#it would appear I posted some fanfic this year

[theragethatisdesire]

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

[kdollikesthighs]

Comeback of a lifetime

Fromis_9 Lee Nagyung x male reader THIS IS A REUPLOAD! Maybe you've seen this work before, maybe you haven't. It used to be uploaded on a blog called K-DGN, run by two people. That blog got destroyed, and now I run this blog by myself, posting only 100% original kdol fanfic content. word count: 5,803

At some point you had to face reality. Your entire life revolved around playing League of Legends, watching kpop fancams, and disappointing your parents. You were already 22 years old, way older than any academy player active nowadays. Making your professional debut would be a miracle. You weren’t bad at the game, far from it, actually. You consistently hit challenger rank getting to the top 500 in all of South Korea. The only thing that eluded you was that top 100 rank, the milestone needed to get picked up by a professional team. It was never easy to make these kinds of decisions, but you vowed today was the last day you’d spend at this PC bang. Thousands of hours you spent in this place, but today would be the final one. Goodbye, comfy gaming chairs. Goodbye, on demand snack ordering. Goodbye, staying up to long past midnight grinding ELO. Goodbye, all the other regulars who you’d grown distantly attached to.

These regulars included the 16-year-old duo stack you’d been seeing come in every day for the last three years. You believed that one of them would make it pro while the other was just a stepping stone. It also included that 30-something-year-old, still grinding Starcraft 2. A grim sight of a potential future. Finally, it also included the cute girl that was around your age, who would appear and disappear again sporadically for long stretches of time. She’d always be tucked away in some corner of the establishment, wearing a variation of dark colored covering clothes, baseball caps and a black mouth mask. All you could tell about her appearance was her alluring eyes, and that she had a body that no hoodie could hide.

They were all present today, as if cosmically aware of your departure and giving you one grand goodbye. You were so deprived of normal human interaction that the delusion was almost enough to make you wipe away a tear. You normally weren’t one to focus on anything other than your game, but today you thought to yourself that since it was your last day anyways, you might as well take a risk. Today, you took place on the computer next to the cute girl you’d always admired from afar.

You couldn’t blame her for dressing the way she did, hiding herself. You go to a PC bang to focus on gaming, not to get hit on. If she dressed up, you were sure she’d have no time to focus on her matches. This was the first time you sat somewhere where you could see her screen. 

You could never confirm before today, but you had a sneaking suspicion she was also into LoL. You heard her rage about “my son of a bitch jungler”, or her “ dumbass inting support” on rare occasions. She seemed to be able to keep her calm most of the time though. Now, you could finally take a peek at her monitor and confirm it to be true.

A thought entered itself in your head that today you could finally use those skills you’d been honing all these years to impress her, and maybe you could get a fresh start on some social contact and a way out of this miserable life. Your little peak revealed her rank as well. She was currently down in the trenches of Silver 2. Not very impressive, but a good sign that you had a shot at impressing her. Hopefully.

Step 1: Log in to your LoL account. Step 2: Play a game and hope she looks over at your monitor and sees how good you are. Step 3: Have her fawn over how good you are. Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, but that's all you had the courage for today.

Uh-oh. Maybe it was better to think of a plan while you weren’t still OBVIOUSLY staring at her screen. She had noticed, her eyes slowly peeking over towards yours as you made eye contact. You could tell the tip of her nose was scrunched up like an angry cat telling you to back off. This was the first time you had a real chance to take in her eyes, and you felt like you could drown in them. They were big, round and somewhere in between cute and sexy. Enough to instantly fluster you. They felt familiar as well. Like you could swear you had seen these eyes a thousand times before. You shook it off and took the hint, finally looking away and leaving her be. You settled in to your little spot for the night and started queueing. Your games went surprisingly well. Better than usual, even. It was almost as if the universe heard you were wanting to quit, and decided to entice you to stay. You were on a roll, win after win after win. The booth next to you, well, you weren’t looking anymore, but the sounds were enough to tell. She was raging, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. Against your better judgment, you decided to sneak a fast peak over at her setup. Big mistake. Seemingly possessed with some supernatural gift, she immediately caught your eyes darting over to her, and glared at you as if to say “you’re next”. You quickly started looking back over at your own screen. She… wasn’t however. It was impossible to ignore her staring daggers at you, peering over while slowly moving closer and peeking at your screen. You weren’t in-game yet, just sitting in queue for 12 minutes already (as you were used to for high-ELO games), but your rank was clearly on display. Did this somehow count as step 2 from your plan? “Hey, nerd.” cut through the silence, and also through your hopes of reaching part 3 of your plan. “Can you help me out here?” She continued, in a surprisingly bashful, cutesy tone. Her chair was fully turned towards yours at this point but her face was turned toward the floor, hiding behind her facemask and under her baseball cap. You expected scorn, a giant explosion in your face, but instead she was acting cute? Did your plan work? “What’s… up?” You replied hesitantly. She responded by turning her chair towards her monitor again and pointing her hand flatly at the chat log of her currently active game.

You stood up and hovered over her shoulder as you studied what was up. The screen was gray and she was waiting to respawn. The girl was playing marksman and had a current KDA of 3/7/1. Suffice it to say it was not the greatest performance, but that wasn’t her point. “Can you believe this fucking guy?!” She berated the enemy marksman, who had spent the entire game flaming and mocking her in chat after every kill he got on her. “You want me to get revenge on him for you?” She was taken aback a little, her eyes squinting at you like you just said something insane. “What? I wanted you to tell me they’re a piece of shit and for you to compliment me so I’d feel better about myself.” Her response made you feel like you did say something stupid, but to your surprise she got up from her chair. “Right, I mean, they are a fucking piece of shit,” you responded, laying it on a little thick, “and they are lucky to even be in a game with a cutie like you.” Your response made her chuckle a couple of high pitched laughs, before taking in a big breath. “That’s more like it!” She clapped her hands, satisfied with your response. “Now sit down and get revenge for me, please?” Her hands clasped together, unifying in front of her belly button and causing her to push her bosom together. You hadn’t noticed before now, but her hoodie had zipped down slightly, allowing you to take a peek at what she was working with. You couldn’t help but glance, but what took you back the most was that when you looked back at her face, her eyes were still fixated on yours. She definitely saw you look, but she either acted like she didn’t see, or that she didn’t care that you looked. Whatever the case was, you sat down in that chair and were ready to lock in.

It took you less than one minute to bait her opponent in, completely outmaneuvering him and getting that shut down. “That was amazing! Serves him right!” The girl erupted, impressed by your display of digital dominance. This was child’s play for you though, since defeating a silver player is a given. She leaned over your left side, her chest slightly pressing into your shoulder, getting you even more worked up than you already were.

“Well, I should get back to my seat.” You relented, considering this a job well done. Getting a chance to show off your skills to a girl you could only assume was the cutest you’d ever seen in your life was a good end to your career here you thought. She disagreed. Strongly. “What? No! You can’t stop now, you have to completely destroy him!” She pleaded, clearly having bigger plans for you. “I really shouldn’t, you know, it’s against the terms of service and- ” you objected. As much as you enjoyed the praise, you really wanted to get some gaming against some good players today. “I’ll make it worth your while every time you kill them?” She rebuffed your rejection, ever so slightly provoking you by further unzipping her hoodie revealing a low cut black tee underneath. “Say less!” was all you replied, before reseating yourself back in her chair. You were locked in like a man possessed, not even noticing how you just missed the 14 minute queue pop on your own computer, destroying any chance of having a good game any time soon.

Your target came back to lane, and like clockwork, it barely took a full minute to send him back to spawn. As promised, the mystery girl delivered. She got real close to you, pressing her soft chest against you once more. Her face, this time even closer than before. So close that you could feel the warmth of her breath disperse through her facemask on your skin. Her lips were mere inches removed from your ear.

“You are so fucking good at this, oppa.. We should play together some time and I’ll let you pick me up and carry me.” Her sultry tone effortlessly seduced you, cementing the idea that you would do anything and everything that she’d ask of you. You couldn’t fight the creeping feeling that at this point it wasn’t just her eyes that felt familiar. You could have sworn you’d heard this voice before.

Another minute passes by, and you reward your lane opponent with another one way trip to the respawn fountain. You hated to admit it, but you were trying your absolute best at this point. Making calls, guiding your jungler, leading your team to objectives. If every kill meant a response from her, you had every intention of ending this game with 100 kills.

Your reward this time? She pulled your chair back a little, creating space for her to squeeze in between before planting herself in your lap. Her soft ass pressed up against your waking erection, which you hoped she either didn’t notice or at least pretended to not notice. Her hips bucked and swirled, grinding against your groin no more and no less than two times before settling in and removing any doubt of her not feeling your cock snuggled in between her thighs. Once again, no recognition or scorn was earned for it. “Can you still play like this?” her cutesy voice inquired with her pitch rising, making it impossible to complain even if you wanted to. You gave her a slight nod, finally releasing your breath and looking past the beauty fitting into your shape and refocusing on the game. You had kills to farm. She leaned forward, pressing her ass even more into you, and took control of the keyboard before typing up a storm. With a newfound confidence in your skills, she was now taunting her nemesis. You focused up, and once more scored a kill on your target. It seemed like her taunting worked, and tilted the enemy into trying to prove themselves. She did a little jump in your lap cheering you on. She twisted her upper body towards you, placing both of her hands on your shoulders before retreating one back to remove her face mask and ball cap combo in order to finally reveal herself to you. She left you no time to connect the dots, leaning down towards the left side of your face and planting a kiss on your cheek. “Keep this up, and I’ll make sure you never forget this.” As much as this excited you, the revelation of you connecting the dots on why her eyes and voice felt familiar was too grand to not remark on. The girl sitting in your lap right was none other than Lee Nagyung, the visual from one of your favorite girl groups, Fromis_9! “Holy shit you’re Nagyung!” You couldn’t help but exclaim, maybe even against your better judgment. “And you’re going right back to your own seat if you don’t quiet down!” She scowled back, her teeth exposed through her lips as she brought her finger before her mouth, shushing you. She looked around desperately to see if your little stunt had caused any complications, but it was a slow day at the PC bang. Luckily for you, nobody had seemed to hear you.

“Understood! I’m sorry, I’m just a big fan.” You continued, pleading your case. A cute smirk adorned her face, before she closed her eyes and gave you a small understanding nod. In the chaos, you had completely lost focus of the game, and only regained it once you noticed your screen going gray and the chat being filled with “Great, our Jinx is back to inting” messages. Nagyung didn’t even need to tell you to focus up as you took immediate control of the game again, guiding your team on what to do until you respawned. Laning phase had ended by this point, but it was still a Silver lobby. This meant that the laning phase usually just shifted to everyone laning in the mid lane. When your screen turned into color, you rushed mid lane where you last spotted your target, and took him down again without even a hint of trouble. This time his entire team was also there, and you knew you could take them all down. But you backed off. You pinged your team back, your reasoning being the longer this game went on, the more chances you’d have to kill your opponent.

Nagyung kept her promise, and her rewards were ever growing. She pressed B on your keyboard causing you to recall, giving you a slight moment of respite. She palmed her hands over yours, gently lifting them off of the keyboard and mouse, and brought them closer to her body. She guided your hands downwards in between the split of her hoodie and her pants, and finally underneath her t-shirt. Your hands grazed against the warm feeling of her bare skin before being allowed to land on the soft fabric of the sports bra covering her breasts. Nagyung’s grip tightened on yours, forcing you to squeeze onto her soft chest, your thick cock growing ever harder as it pushed into her thighs. She turned her head towards yours ever so slightly, puffing up a moan into your ears.

You could feel your hands melt away into her bosom, but crossing this threshold had unlocked something within you. Her hands start to move yours as if to say your time is up, but you didn’t want to stop before you had had your fun. Your fingertips circled around, making her nipples just that slightest bit harder allowing you to place both between your index and thumb, and pinched them eliciting another much more genuine moan from the girl playing with you. Her hips buckled into you, almost as if she had started grinding on you before you agreed to take your hands away and refocused on earning those rewards.

Sure enough, like a gift on a silver platter, your target showed up once more. Another free kill for you, but this time not without you also taking their tier one mid lane turret. You felt like you’d have to start considering when and where you killed him, or this game might end sooner than you’d like. This time, Nagyung shifted her balance in your lap. She turned her back towards your right side, her entire frame pointing to your left and towards the wall her PC booth was up against. She hooked her left arm around your neck with her entire body being supported by your frame as she hung her legs off of the left side of the chair’s armrest. Her body was now slightly further away from yours. You almost felt like this was becoming a punishment. That was until she started using her hand. Her right hand crossed her body and found its way onto your bulge peeking through your pants. This left no doubt whatsoever that she had felt you pressing into her multiple times, but her soft, dainty little hand caressing the silhouette of your dick left you without complaint. She was applying tender pressure downwards onto your member, her hand shifting around the contours of what she could discern off your cock, gliding up and down as if to tease you. “Get more kills” was the message. She finished teasing you, then made a small request. “Don’t let me fall.” sounded the command, placing both your hands around her thin waist. A little surprise but you did as you were told, focusing your strength now on holding her upright. She took over the controls once more, placing herself in safety before going right back to flaming her adversary. As soon as she was done, she hooked her arm back around you and relinquished control back over to you. “Now kick his ass for me, oppa!” She instructed you, your confidence boosted and your desire to fulfill her request causing you to smirk. She looked back at your face, a little impressed with how serious you were taking this. You were following along with the chat logs, and despite being a Silver 2 in the game, when it came to flaming others she was at least Diamond. Your hands were back on the keyboard, and to your surprise her hand was back on your groin. It was a little harder to perform like this, but she monitored your performance, and judged it still good enough to allow her to have her fun. She started making a little competition out of it, speeding up and slowing down depending on how focused you had to be in the game. You almost began to believe she wanted you to fail, and the smiles she gave you after hearing your moans were enough to solidify that thought.

No problem, you knew you could win against these players with one hand tied behind your back. Sure enough, enemy number one showed up, and met another quick end. You barely escaped death this time however, partially because of Nagyung’s incessant teasing. Your performance earned yourself another reward, one she was more than eager to give to you. Her hands retreated back to herself, and you needed no hint to help her hold her body upright. Nagyung’s hands floated around the base of her hoodie, goading you with how slow she moved. Her fingers twirled around the zipper, softly clasping the metal tab before splitting the two sides apart. Her hands started to lift her shirt from the bottom towards her neck. From behind, nothing had changed. Her hoodie covered everything everyone else in the PC bang could see, but to you, you were now presented with an unimpeded sight of her tits, only covered by a sports bra. She wasn’t done. She did the same with her bra, resting all the fabric right under her neckline exposing her breast to you before pushing them together for your viewing pleasure. They weren’t the biggest tits, but they looked so inviting to bury your face into. As if able to read your mind, Nagyung raised her eyebrow, cocking her head downwards before making you an offer. “You know you can kiss them if you want, oppa. But only if you don’t die.” You were almost surprised. You expected yourself to be more hesitant, but with the way her voice and demeanor lured you in, no resistance was possible. Your face drew closer to her chest, and you posited your lips around one of her nipples. You suckled on it for a couple of seconds, before clasping her pink flesh between your teeth, ever so slight applying pressure. Her moans were like honey to you. Addicting. You couldn’t get enough. As good as your situation had quickly become, you knew you had more kills to farm, so you opened your eyes and looked back towards your screen. Close enough, as you just barely managed to prevent a death. She purred into your ear, proud of you being able to pull back and survive danger once more. You used this opportunity to bait her rival into your team, securing another free and easy kill. This was almost too easy for someone like you, but you weren’t about to back down now. Not a great call. Your team managed to get Baron off of that. This meant the game could be ended at any moment. The reward however? Absolutely worth it. As soon as you secured Baron, Nagyung took over the keyboard again and typed up a storm, really getting under her foe's skin. “Go back to base, I want you to look at me for this next part, oppa.” She whispered into your ear. Her flawless face pulled back while she stared into your eyes, her eyebrows merging in the center of her forehead, pleading with you for what she had in store for you. You licked your lips, instinctively feeling what was about to come before she leaned into you, your lips merging as she kissed you. You felt her tongue prod temporarily into your mouth before you felt her retreating, leaving you breathless as you took in the sight of her biting her bottom lip.

She placed both her hands on the chair's armrests, moving her entire body away from you before climbing under the desk. She rolled your chair a little closer to her, pulling your legs forward off of the chair. Her hands towards the hem of your pants, undoing your button and pulling down your zipper. Her hands moved forward once more, now making their way to the space in between your underwear and your skin before she pulled them down slightly, exposing your cock. You could feel her fingertips graze against the tip of your cock as she slowly tightened her grip around your girth, pulling it out of your underwear. “Look at the fucking size of you…” she cooed. Your cock was hidden beneath the cover of the desk, but Nagyung wasted no time. With her hand already firmly around the base of your dick, she took one final look into your eyes, as wide as you’d ever seen them, like prey caught in a trap, unsure of whether or not they’d survive. You had never been harder in your life. You had no attention left for the game. The only thing in the world that mattered to you right now was burning the image of Nagyung sizing up your cock into your memory. With her bare chest pressed against your knees, she planted the softest kiss against the underside of your cock’s tip. Her tongue extended from in between her lips, tilting her head sideways as she traced the entire length of your shaft. The length of you caused her to have to use her hands to push her body upwards to reach maximum height before reaching your base again. “Oh fuck,” you can’t help but let escape from your soul as she maintained proper eye contact with you. Her wet tongue dragged a trail of spit all along of your cock, the only thing connecting you being that same strand of spit once she pulled back. Her eyes steeled with her resolve, as if to tell herself that she can do this.

Your hips buck as your tip gets engulfed by her warm and inviting mouth, your breaths becoming ragged and irregular as she pulls you in deeper, testing her own limits against your dick. She hesitates for a second, not breaking eye contact once. She had taken a little over half of your dick in her mouth before her eyes began pleading with you, begging as if her actions weren't far enough, but you had been passive enough today. “All the way, babygirl.” You growled back, taking command for the first time today. As if under a magic spell, her eyes rolled back and she pushed past her limit. You could feel the barrier of her throat break as the rest of your length slid effortlessly down her throat. She held it there for a few seconds before releasing you back into the cold room temperature with a loud pop. You cupped her face in your hands, cherishing her like the beautiful, erotic flower she was. It didn’t last long before she took your hands off of her face, wiped the back of her hand on her chin removing any saliva, and gave you a satisfied smile. “Back to the game. I’ll only continue while you play.” Her terms were clear, but before your hands were back on the keyboard and mouse, she added one final clause.

“And if you win the game, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.” She teasingly added, sending you over the edge, your cock throbbing in her hands as a little precum dripped out to her promise. “Looks like this guy agrees.” She chuckled, before locking your tip inside of her mouth.

She stayed like that for a while to see if you would accept her terms, but once she could hear the sounds of the keys of your keyboard clacking, she knew your answer. She began swirling her tongue around your head, sucking all the precum out of you and drooling it back onto you. This went on for a couple of minutes, with her switching her technique to pressing whatever length of you she had in her mouth against the inside of her cheek and popping it fully out of her mouth, running the edge of her lips over your entire length before taking you back in.

Her hands grabbed your thighs firmly as gasps and moans escaped your mouth, each one causing Nagyung to increase her intensity. Every time you killed her archnemesis, you reported it right away. She took your word for it at this point, and rewarded you all the same.

Her hand grazed your thigh with her fingernails with the slightest of touches before resting itself around your balls. She then began to slowly massage your sack while she continued to fuck her own throat with your cock, going deeper and deeper by the minute. The occasional glance down at her made it hard for you to even want to look at the game, her doe-like eyes so intent on making you feel amazing. Her shirt fabric was still rumpled up against her neck, giving you a slight view of her meticulous tits. Her mascara began to run thanks to the tears forming each time she pushed further. There was a rhythm to her head bobbing up and down your shaft, and it was intoxicating enough to drown in. The feeling of this naughty goddess servicing you while your attention is forced to perform in the game you’d been grinding for years meant that your focus was impossible to maintain. It was overwhelming, enough to make you feel like you’d pass out. Each glide caused an entirely new wave of ecstasy to encompass your being. It was a miracle you managed to still function in the game, consistently scoring kills to keep her rewards coming. The sounds of her gags, stifled coughs and wet slurps as she did her best to ruin your focus were too good to miss as you kept your headset off for the last part of the game. Despite this extra handicap, you still managed to destroy her antagonist once more. From this point on, you felt like you had earned it. She released from her mouth, took a deep breath, and dived right back in. In an instant, the entire length of your dick disappeared into the back of her mouth. You could hear her gag as she struggled to maintain this and in an effort to help, you moved your hips backwards to give her some space. Her hands dug into the back of your hips however, pushing you forward. This was what she wanted, and you had no right pulling out of her mouth. “Nnnghh, fuck!” Her eyes were all she had to talk to you with, but they smirked. She could do this, and you were more than happy to oblige. You even pushed forward a little, a surprised stifled yelp escaping from beneath the desk below you.

Nagyung was fucking herself senseless on your cock, and there was nothing slow about it. A soft, wet slopping sound caught your attention, as you peeked to catch a glimpse of how she had started fingering herself, her mouth still impaled on your cock.

“Nagyung, I’m about to..” you began to moan out, before she released you from her warm insides, reprimanding you. “No, not until you win! And call me babygirl…” Her eyes now failing to meet yours. “Since I don’t want anyone to find out my identity.” She almost whispered, but you understood. “I know, I’m about to win!” You clarified, her eyes widening in surprise as she peeked out from under the desk to confirm. Sure enough, you were sieging the base, and your, or rather, her win was imminent. “Oh fuck, okay, wait just a second!” She replied in a rushed panic, pulling her upper body above the desk enough so that she could lay into her opponent one final time. It was no lie that you wanted to say you were about to win, but you also were about to cum as well. Her sudden pause did put a little halt to that. “I believe you owe me cumming down your throat, babygirl.” You remarked as you directed her back to her task. Like a content little kitty, she purred and climbed back under the desk. Your full focus was now on her and she knew it. She used the opportunity to prime you some more. She pointed both her index fingers at her mouth. “Right here, oppa. This is where you have to cum, okay?” Her mouth was now fully open now as she melodies out a soft “aaaa” with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. The sight was enough to bring you right back to the edge of almost cumming. For the final stretch, she employed one last tactic. She placed both her hands palm upwards on your thighs, inviting you to put your hands on hers. She smiled as you did so, taking both your hands and placing them on the back of her head. “Now fuck my face, okay?” The lewd request made with the cutest tone imaginable was all it took. You forced her head down on your cock, pushing her all the way to the base before pulling her back and pushing her down again. You were fucking her face relentlessly, her mouth accepting you as her eyes looked at you as if she were obsessed with what you were doing. It took no more than a minute of this before you felt it finally happening. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babygirl!” You groaned, signaling the end. You pushed her head all the way down, holding her there for the final relief. The first shot erupted out of you, blasting into the back of her throat. String after string filled up her mouth, each dose accompanied by a grunt from her asking you if this was the last. The viscous sensation of your cum mixing with her saliva was enveloping you. As much as you wanted to sink into your chair, close your eyes and focus on the feeling, you could not tear your eyes away from the idol struggling to keep all of your load combined with your cock in her mouth. She was unsuccessful however, as droplets began to eek out of the corners of her mouth.

You finally let her off of your dick, but instead of gasping for air or getting mad at you, you were treated to another show. She opened her mouth much the same way she did before you fucked it mercilessly, showing you all of your seed she had accumulated in her mouth. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight. Nagyung closed her mouth and swallowed it all in one go. Another open mouth, another “aaaa”, and her promise was fulfilled. She took the liberty to lick whatever she couldn’t keep clean off of you, before giving you a smile for a job well done. “That was fucking amazing.” You sheepishly commented, to which she gave a cute little chuckle, the corner of her mouth turning upwards. “Hehe, I know.” She winked back at you. She climbed out from under the desk, tucking your now half flaccid dick back into your pants, before taking her rightful place back in your lap. Truth be told, you expected her to have sent you back to where you came from by now. Instead, she took your hand one last time for today and guided it in between her thighs, underneath her pants. You could feel how warm and wet she was from playing with herself, your half-mast flying back to full force in response. “I’ll bring a blanket next time so you can fuck me while I’m on your lap. Sounds good, oppa?” She playfully suggested, her aegyo overloading your senses. “I’ll see you tomorrow for some more help! I want to tell Chaeyoung I got into gold before her!” It was never easy making these kinds of decisions, but today wasn’t going to be your last day at this PC bang after all.

[adalindofcabinsix]

that kind of love never dies (I)

summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.3K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.

masterlist

Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.

i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant

if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow

i'll be waiting for you :)

Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.

After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.

All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.

Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.

She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.

For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.

Except, of course, the FBI.

Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.

Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.

Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.

Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.

After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.

She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.

She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.

“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.

The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.

“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.

She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.

Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.

Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.

“Someone would definitely approve of that.”

Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.

“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.

“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”

“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”

“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.

“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”

“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”

“Have fun, Cinderella!”

Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.

Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.

“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.

“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”

“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.

The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.

“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

[kisses4reid]

big change | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - cutting spencer’s hair results in more than just a ‘big change’ appearance wise.

genre - fluff!!!!! cutesy yearning

warnings - idk u scared of haircuts?? scissors??? kissing?? (barely edited btw)

a/n - sometimes i black out and write a fanfic and then find it later on and then i’m like shit this kinda fire and then i edit it and then i post it and then-

You roll your chair over to Spencer’s desk after much staring, and rest an elbow on a low stack of manila folders. Your sneakers squeak as you slow yourself, causing a visible flinch from the long haired boy.

His brunet hair was flicked up at the ends which touched his shoulders, the front pieces tucked behind his ears. As he lifted his gaze, hard expression softening immediately, you whispered, “I know your secret.”

His smile jolted, heart beat quickening. You had a cheeky smile on, hair twirling between your fingers, talking so low. You couldn’t possibly know his secret.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He asked, placing his pen down and turning to give you his full attention.

“You don’t know how to cut your hair.” His long hair suited him, you thought he looked as handsome as he did on your first day of work how many years ago. The day Spencer fell in love.

Dumbfounded, Spencer replied with a pout, “I know how to cut my hair.”

You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly he was aware of the jagged lines and length of his hair, and how he was now bringing hair ties with him everywhere. Which was actually convenient for all female members of the team. He had to admit, it was inconvenient at times, and it wasn’t his favourite to deal with or to look at. He looked back into your sparkling expecting eyes, smiled softly, and continued, “You should cut it for me.”

You lifted your head from your palm and raised your eyebrows, a pink flush ghosting your cheeks. The offer was innocent, it was a favour, but something about it felt so domestic in your head that you couldn’t help but smile hard, cheeks pressing, “Yeah, of course.”

You pushed off his desk and returned to yours, though his gaze never left your sunny appearance.

The next day, you were knocking on a familiar apartment door, rocking on your sneaker heels, eyes wandering anywhere but where you thought Spencer would be when he opened the door. But even when he did open his door, after a thud and small ‘ow’, you couldn’t help but look at him and savour the last moments with his long hair.

He had a navy blue sweater over a white t-shirt, some sweatpants that looked more formal from afar, and mis-match socks on. You gulped and stepped into his apartment, taking everything in as if you hadn’t been there before.

You took off your light purple scarf and placed it on the kitchen counter, along side the small hair cutting kit you had gotten a few years ago (you couldn’t afford a hair cut before your first day at the BAU, it was a diy emergency).

The apartment was dark and cosy, cabinets a rich wood tone, countertops squeaky clean, couches plush and thrifted. You two often talked about the best thrift stores to visit, you had even planned to go to one together one day. As Spencer pulled a wooden bar stool into the kitchen to sit on, you tied your own hair up, reminding yourself of why you were here.

He smelt amazing, like a new book and burnt marshmallow, and as he gazed into your eyes waiting for you to speak, a cat caught your tongue. You were alone in this warm apartment, only the soft music of Spencer’s old playlist in the background, and a heart beating that you weren’t sure was yours or his.

“Um- Okay. Do you have a reference photo or?”

“Yeah,” he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and showed you a reference photo. It was like he wanted to be a boy band member, and as you imagined him with it, you couldn’t be happier.

He got nervous watching your reaction, it was a very drastic change. You placed his phone on the counter top next to your hair kit, his eyes following your every move like if he blinked you would dissipate. And when a small smile ghosted your face, he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"I like it."

"Good."

You leaned close to Spencer, your heat radiating onto him, to pull a lever on his chair to lower him to your eye level. A spray bottle appeared in your hand while the other covered Spencer's brown eyes. Suddenly, cold sprits of water caused Spencer to flinch every time he heard the trigger fire, causing you to giggle lightly. "It's just water." "I didn't get any warning though." He replied sheepishly. He couldn't hear much over his heartbeat, or see much other than you.

The next 15 minutes was spent in radio music and being surrounded by your sweet perfume, trying not to grab you or touch you as much as he wanted to. You were stood in front of him now, eyes focused on his bangs and the hair around his ears, scissors and comb in hand, and he couldn't stop gazing into your eyes like a little boy looking at the stars.

You were utterly gorgeous, beautiful, unreal. Spencer often wondered, especially at the start of your relationship, how nobody else had tried to date you in the team, or in general. But as the two of you grew closer, he realised you were telling everyone no. You were waiting for someone, and it made his heart break everytime he remembered your words.

If only he knew. Your hands jittered slightly, feeling insecure at his hard gaze that you simply couldn't ignore. You hoped in the dim lighting he couldn't see your red cheeks or steep breaths, or that he could. You hoped you never finished cutting his hair, and you thought of other ways you could stay this close. He was tall, warm, comfortable. He was smart, caring, clean. He was Spencer, who wouldn't want to stay with him? A gulp escaped you, and he ripped his eyes off of yours, looking down to avoid your eyes and to see the damage.

There was piles of hair beneath your feet now, and he smiled at the sight.

"Spencer, stop moving your head. I couldv'e cut off your eyebrows." Your laugh filled the apartment, and he looked back up at you.

He hadn't realised how far you had gotten, your eyes scanning his hair for any improvements before a small smile of approval appeared on your cheeks. A breath escaped him. You turned to close your kit. He stood up and placed a hand on the front of your neck, turning your head, and planting his lips on yours.

You squeaked in surprise, quickly kissing back as his hands traveled to your cheeks, holding onto you like you were the only girl in the world. Your fingertips splayed on his chest, you pulled away only to be followed for another kiss, only broken up by a millisecond of a breath.

You opened your eyes and pushed him softly away, noticing the lipstick now stained on his lips and around them. The dim kitchen was spinning, your chest was heaving, and your heart was racing a million beats per minute. You even got a little light-headed before Spencer took his hands from your face and rest them on your waist.

He was much taller now that he wasn't sat, and he looked even more handsome with the haircut you had given him. For a second you thought you were hallucinating. Spencers eyes played between your lips and your eyes, before meeting you in the middle once again. He lifted you slightly, kissing you with movements full of yearning and passion, slowly with multiple breaths in the middle to give you time to reject him (which he expected), but you never did.

You put one hand on his cheek as he pulled away. He smiled widely at you, taking the enthusiasm back as a good sign. He didn't totally fuck up. You whispered, "You kiss your barbers often?" He replied with a cheeky smile, "Only you."

taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors:)

Golden Cufflinks: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. https://colormepurplex2.tumblr.com/post/766335488954138624/golden-cufflinks-jjk Confined: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance. https://www.tumblr.com/cravetive/742183386711539712/%F0%9D%97%96%F0%9D%97%A2%F0%9D%97%A1%F0%9D%97%99%F0%9D%97%9C%F0%9D%97%A1%F0%9D%97%98%F0%9D%97%97 Show Me Something: He was your first kiss years ago, only to become your first heartbreak the next day. Your life would have been much easier if only you would forget about him and move on, instead of having to see him almost every day because your best friend had fallen in love with his best friend. When your pal had suggested having a road trip for the final days of summer break before going back to campus, you said yes for a reprieve. Too bad she forgot to tell you about the two extra passengers tagging along. One of which is the boy that still has a tight hold of your heart without either of you even knowing it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/30396546 Slow Dancing: When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39615618 Call Me Mistress: "It has certainly been quite the party," you began, taking a stroll around the table to give his friends time to ogle you. "But I'm here for someone else on his special day.” The end of the riding crop snapped suggestively against your open palm and you felt excitement bloom around the large table. “Now, let me see if I can find out which of you is the birthday boy..." A long-term client hires the Mistress to help celebrate his best friend’s birthday. The festivities lead to new business. https://dark-muse-iris.tumblr.com/post/164844332231/call-me-mistress-ramen-m-part-1

Sillage: Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact. https://www.tumblr.com/deerguk/144529213896/s-i-l-l-a-g-e-pt-one The Pink Pill: This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria. https://www.tumblr.com/dollfaceksj/723667191148462080/the-pink-pill-jjk-version-m-3-days Reminder: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship. https://www.tumblr.com/dollfaceksj/721591770571554816/reminder-jjk-m-masterlist Stay: “Jungkook,” His name was merely a sigh flying out of your lungs and through your parted lips. “If we do this - if we go down this road - how do we go back?” https://eoieopda.tumblr.com/post/703940957854449664/stay-jjk

Losers: I get lonely when you're not here, and this darkness appears, leaving me stranded. https://www.tumblr.com/eternalguk/744420253674668032/losers-jjk-m

[moeitsu]

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Lore part 2 :)

Wow! You guys really appreciated my first post about Logan's backstory/lore and I'm grateful for all of your feedback!! Here's the link to part 1 if you're interested :)

I'm so happy to see all the love he's getting, its actually surreal to be a part of this fandom again and seeing all the new Wolverine content! The fanart and fanfics are literally my life-source rn. You don't even wanna know what my tiktok saved folder looks like....

You guys asked for more so here is part 2! It's not as organized as the first part, apologies. I'm using both the movies and comics here. Some stuff isn't confirmed but generally accepted in the mcu.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Wolverine first appeared in The Incredible Hulk #180. He was supposed to be a mutated human/animal but the idea was later scrapped.

He was approx. 197 years old when he died in the movie 'Logan'

There's multiple different deaths in the comics but I wont get into that.

Logan is 5'3"- 5'5" (short king)

He has black hair and blue eyes

Before the adamantium, he weighed 196lbs (88kg). After the binding he was 300lbs (136kg)

His body is poisoned by the adamantium metal as it breaks down over time. Requiring him to be in a constant state of regeneration, which begins to slow down as he ages.

Without the metal he probably could have lived a lot longer.

Logan has a fear of water, or rather, drowning. It’s one of the only times can’t regenerate. It would cause his death.

The Weapon X program is also responsible for this fear since he was submerged under water for a long period of time for the binding.

The metal in his body also makes him so heavy it would be very difficult for him to swim.

In the comics Logan temporarily loses his healing factor due to a virus created by Dr. Abraham Cornelius. (Weapon X scientist) This event leaves him vulnerable for the first time in his life, forcing him to confront the reality of his mortality.

His healing ability greatly affects his mental state. Logan can quickly recover from physical damage, but he still feels all the pain. His ability to cope and endure despite the overwhelming suffering is central to his character.

Logan has an acute sense of smell. He can track people and objects across a great distance. It’s so precise that he can identify people’s emotional states such as fear or anger. Even when someone is lying.

Logan was sensitive, shy, and timid as a child.

The first person he ever killed was his biological father.

After killing his father he ran away from home with his friend Rose. (a hired companion to help care for him when he was young). Unfortunately, Logan accidently killed her during a fight.

Logan speaks several languages, due to his extensive life and travels. He speaks English, Japanese, Russian, Spanish, Chinese, Cheyenne and Lakota.

He’s actually an incredibly smart guy, don’t let him fool you.

Despite his love for alcohol, Logan’s healing factor makes it nearly impossible for him to get drunk.

Logan brews his own beer in the Origins comics. (we love a domestic husband)

On Logan’s birthday every year, Sabretooth seeks him out just to beat him up as a twisted "gift." Sabretooth calls this tradition "birthday beatings."

Spider-Man and Wolverine have teamed up a few times in the comics and they are a hilarious pair.

Logan's "berserker rage" is not just a result of his animalistic mutant powers. But stems from his deep psychological trauma. This side of him only emerges when he is pushed into extreme emotional or physical stress.

At one point before he escaped the Weapon X experiment, he was hired to kill Charles Xavier.

Logan's wife Itsu and son Daken were allegedly killed by the Winter Soldier, however it was later revealed that his son actually lived and had been consumed by hatred for his father. Logan was forced to kill his own son before he could cause more harm.

This act is one of, if not the most painful moment in Logan’s life, as it represents his ultimate failure as a father.

Logan blames himself for Jean Grey’s death.

He lived a majority of his life without his memories. Having no idea who he actually is.

Despite his involvement with the X-Men and his many close relationships he often feels like an outsider. Like he doesn’t belong anywhere. He isolates himself because loneliness is a familiar feeling.

Logan prefers the solitude and sanctity of nature. He loves the outdoors and has a lot of respect for the natural world. Often retreating into the wild for his own peace.

In one comic he baby sits Luke Cage and Jessica Jones daughter. Danielle Cage.

He can be quite playful at times with the younger mutants. For example, building a snowman with Jubilee.

Logan dreams of a normal life. He dreams of having a family with a wife and children and leaving the violence behind.

[wannabespiderman]

Man vs machine

Hello! This is my first fanfic written in English so I'm slightly nervous to post this but I couldn't get this idea out of my head so... I hope you enjoy :)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Just an old man confused about modern technology.

.

.

.

You were walking past the living room door when a discontented grunt caught your attention. You took two steps back to crane your neck past the half-closed door. Bucky was sitting on the sofa, leaning over the living room table, which looked like a toddler’s table compared to him, his face illuminated by the bright screen of his new laptop that you’ve bought him not too long ago. His eyebrows were tightly knit together when he mumbled a quiet curse. You turned around, a curious expression on your face as you walked through the door.

"You okay, baby?" you asked and promptly sat down next to him. Bucky gave you an inscrutable look before turning his eyes back to the screen. “Where the hell do I find my emails?” he asked in frustration. A sudden laugh escaped you. You should have realized that a 106 year old man who had little to do with electronics would have some trouble with a laptop. Bucky gave you a displeased look with a slight, unconcious pout appearing on his face. “Click on the internet icon.” You spoke softly, willing to help. Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I don’t need the internet, I need my emails.” You stayed silent for a moment, slightly baffled by his words. Just last week you took the effort to set up a Google account with him and you were pretty sure he had paid attention then. “Bucky.” You said an amused huff escaping you. “Your e-mail is connected to the Internet. Just click on the icon.” Bucky clicked his tongue in annoyance to cover his slight embarrassment and went back to staring at the desktop. He was definitely taking his time, and at one point you doubted he knew what an icon was. “Need any help?” you asked as kindly as you could, though the sight of Bucky squinting his eyes like a real old man made your voice sound rather amused. With an exhausted sigh, Bucky leaned back against the seat back and rubbed his face, his shoulders visibly slumping. “You do it.”

You snort, but immediately apologize after he gives you an exceptionally grumpy look. “You can do it.” You said encouragingly, giving him a small smile. Bucky rolled his eyes, but relented and bent over the laptop again. You shuffled closer to it so you could see the screen properly, and the little orange and blue Firefox icon literally jumped out at you. You pointed your finger at it and looked at it again. “Just click on this one.”

You tried to be patient with him, really, and actually he did exactly what you said, but you couldn’t hold back the little sigh that left your mouth as he moved the cursor over the Firefox icon and clicked. Once. “Okay.” You mumbled, rubbing your eye. Apparently, you needed to be more specific. "This time you click twice." Another brief but piercing look from Bucky before he actually double-clicked and the browser opened. You sent a quick thank you to the heavens before instructing him to type the url into the search tab and cringed silently when he started typing with both of his pointer fingers. Right this second you decided to teach him how to properly type with all ten of his fingers later. A few more instructions later, probably a little more than usually necessary, he reached the Google log-in site.

“I assume you can handle the rest?” It was supposed to be a statement but your voice shifted into a question at the end.

He hummed quietly in affirmation, though his brow was still furrowed as if this whole thing was incredibly complicated which, to be honest… it probably was for him. You pressed your lips together, a slight sting of guilt coursing through you, your previous amusement and frustration about his hardship completely vanishing. One second you were quietly sat next to him and the other you had your arms wrapped around his bicep and your head leaning on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about laughing earlier.” You whispered, almost too quiet for him to understand if he weren’t a Super-Soldier and had enhanced hearing. “I know it’s new for you.” Bucky tried to shrug it off but you saw how his eyes softened when he tilted his head to look down at you. A sudden, quiet chuckle escaped him, making you quirk an eyebrow in curiosity.

“You’d think, as a Cyborg, I’d be better at this.”

[slayfics]

Explosive tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter one: You stalk Katsuki’s social media page.

Chapter links

Your phone lit up with a notification buzzing on your desk. You pick up your phone to see a notification from Instagram and see that Izuku has followed you. You curiously look at his page and see that it has an overwhelming amount of All Might photos, then click over to see who else he is following and quickly realize he has followed everyone from the class.

You had just recently started your first year at U.A. and still hadn't interacted too much with your other classmates. So curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled through Izuku's following list to look at some of your classmate's pages to get a better understanding of them.

You glanced at many of your classmates pages. Mina's page was super pink and most photos were either selfies or her or her out with friends. She seemed to have an easy time making friends and getting along with others. She was probably the classmate you had the most interactions with. Purely because she would come up to you as if she had already known you her whole life. Much like she did to everyone else.

Shoto's page was empty expect for one picture of soba.

Eijiro's page had only two photos. One of the pro hero Crimson Riot and another was a selfie with his bright red hair. You couldn't help but wonder if some of your classmates deleted their old photo's to start over fresh at U.A.

Kyoka had a bunch of pictures of concerts and band albums with a few pictures of herself in between.

Tenya had a bunch of picture's of books he read and recommended.

Continuing to scroll through Izuku's following list you stopped when coming across Katsuki's page.

You clicked on his page and scrolled through the few pictures he had. Your cheeks flushed ever so slightly looking at one of the selfies he had posted.

You weren't sure why but something about him had caught your attention. Ever since being in the same group as him in the U.A. entrance exam, you had found yourself curious about him. All of your other classmates seemed to be put off by his constant angry demeanor, but something about his tenacity made you want to know more about him.

You pulled your knees into your chest as you stared at your phone. Your phone was unlocked sitting idly on Katsuki's Instagram page. The bright screen illuminated your dimmed room.

You twirled your hair absentmindedly as you debated following him. Just do it, don't be a coward you told yourself. You swiftly picked up your phone and clicked follow then locked and dropped your phone down back on your desk.

To your surprise, your phone buzzed again shortly after, you quickly looked and felt your heart flutter. He had liked one of your pictures. Not just a picture, but a picture of yourself you posted a few days ago.

Your face flushed as you held your phone in your hand. Suddenly, your phone dinged with another notification making you jump.

He had followed back.

You gripped your phone in your hand harder as you scrolled over to direct message him and stared at the page feeling your cheeks get even warmer. Come on just say something, you tried to hype yourself up.

He liked your picture and followed you back so obviously that means something right? Fuck it just do it you said to yourself and typed out a message.

"Hey I never got a chance to ask what happened after we split up?"

You typed and sent swiftly before you lost your nerve. During a training for your class at USJ some villains had broken in and attacked the class. You were split up with Bakugo and Kirishima for a short time before the two boys decided to go after more of the villains while you went back to the exit with the rest of the class.

You set your phone down not expecting an answer any time soon but you were surprised to see three dots appear almost immediately. Your heart dropped at the next message.

"What’s your address? I’ll Come over and tell you all about it."

What?! Were you reading that right?? You never expected that response. Your hands started to shake a bit.

It was late and surely the others in the house wouldn’t approve of having him over at this time. Fuck- you knew you were supposed to be on your best behavior since starting U.A. but… how were you supposed to say no.

"You ok with sneaking in?"

"Yeah just hurry up and send your address."

Before putting any more thought into it you typed out your address and pressed send.

Oh crap- You looked around your room and noticed all the stuffed animals on your bed. You quickly shoved them all in the closet along with some loose clothes that were around your room.

It wasn't long before you heard a loud explosion from outside and your phone dinged again with a notification.

"Which window is yours?"

You opened your window and saw Katsuki standing outside, within a split second of spotting you he had used his quirk to be at your window seal. You backed up as he jumped into your room.

"Uh- Hi," You greeted him trying to sound confident but it was evident in your voice you were nervous.

Katsuki sat on your bed leaning back against the wall.

"So you want to know what happened?" He asked, his face adorned with his usual smirk.

"Yeah," you said, as you sat down in the chair at your desk facing Katsuki.

"We found the other villains and I took down that warp gate villain, which slowed the rest of them down."

"Wow really?!" You said, amazed. You knew All Might had shown up and taken over so you didn't expect to hear that Katsuki had played that much of a part in the fight.

"Fucking Deku got in my way though!" Katsuki yelled.

"Hey are you alright?" You heard someone else in the house call from outside the room as they approached your door.

"Shit!" You grabbed Katsuki by his shirt and shoved him into your closet. Just in time for them to knock on your door.

You opened your door, "Yeah sorry it was just the TV- didn't realize it was gonna be that loud." You lied.

"Oh- ok-," they said, slightly suspicious since your TV was off but having no other evidence decided to drop the subject. "Well goodnight don't stay up too late," they said as they started to walk away.

"I won't don't worry! Goodnight," you called back, shutting your door quickly.

You opened your closet door and a few of your stuffed animals fell out.

Katsuki had one of them in his hand, "This is a cute little guy," He said with a smug smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you said, reaching trying to grab the stuffed bear from him, but he quickly avoided your grasp.

"Did you hide these in the closet because I was coming over?" He asked, eyes analyzing you.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, stubbornly crossing your arms.

"I bet they were all on your bed, weren't they? Tell me the truth or the bear gets it," He said, sparks flying from his fingertips.

"Quite down! You're gonna get me in trouble!" You pleaded.

"Better hurry up and tell me then," he said, a smirk growing.

"Ok- Fine, yes! I moved them off my bed because you were coming over. Happy?" You said, giving in to his taunts. You tried to grab for the bear again but he moved the bear away from you once more.

"One more question, is this the first time you've had a boy in your room?" He asked. You felt your face instantly light up with a blush, and you averted your gaze looking at his feet.

"Hm- I'll take that as a yes," He laughed and handed out the bear for you to grab. You grabbed it from his hand, your fingers grazing across his when you did.

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow, wouldn't want to get you in trouble, you're not supposed to stay up too late," He teased as he made his way back over to your window.

You turned around wanting to call out to him but didn't know what to say. As quickly as he came in, he left you alone in your room once more.

Thank you for reading! I’m very excited to share this series~

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

[n3rdyw0rdy]

My thoughts on Vefve

I’ve been a fan of Ghost and Pals since 2018, and only in recent years have I joined the fandom. If you’ve seen my past tumblr account, you can tell that I’m quite the fan of Christopher Pierre (Aka: The Distortionist)

I’ve noticed Vefve when I saw her reference sheet for her version of Christopher Pierre and went down the pipeline of her works, and I’ve got some thoughts.

Selfshipping

I have no problem with self shipping at all, since I myself, if you couldn’t tell, make countless ocs for fandoms or characters I like.

What I do feel odd about is Vefve’s self ship with Christopher Pierre. I have heard that Vefve is in her early or late 20’s (I’m not completely certain, but she claimed to be an adult), which the character, Christopher, is 17.

I know she has stated that the version if Chris that she ships herself with is “aged up”, but Christopher, quite literally, hasn’t aged a bit in her art. Even if he’s supposed to be “24”, Vefve has done nothing to his design to indicate that he’s older than he canonically is, appearance wise, which rubs me the wrong way.

“He’s fictional”, I don’t hear you guys saying that when Erin Clover shipped herself with Bakugo while she was in her 30’s.

The Vampire Au

I wasn’t familiar with this AU or the fanfic that went along with it until recently.

I know that Vefve has made a statement saying how she doesn’t like the fanfic anymore, but I beg to differ.

For context, the fanfic consisted of Christopher Pierre as a Vampire, and Kennith Simmons (keep him in mind) as a victim. Christopher attacks Kennith and offed him, but then kissed the severed head of Kennith.

This fanfic is both odd and just weird to me. The random n3crophilia and weird romanticization of the situation leaves a weird taste in my mouth, and if anything, unnecessary.

I understand that Vefve wanted it to be a “horror” fic and not glamorized, but the fanfic itself does that. She even made the excuse that “vampires can’t control themself” or are mindless monsters, but even with that logic, I don’t think a mindless monster would make out with a severed head.

Even with Vefve’s statement of not liking the fic or au, she still mentions it a lot and even made art of the kiss scene, which discourages me to believe that she was honest about it.

Mischaracterization and Chrisken (christopher x kennith)

Probably the most prevalent excuse Vefve gives for defending this ship is that she “changed the characters” so the relationship isn’t as toxic as it would, and with that, fully mischaracterizing the two characters.

Vefve has changed Christopher to a “dominant nonchalant charismatic charmer” while Kennith is a “Sweet innocent boy”. This may be nitpicky of me, or over exaggerating their recharactsrizations, but I just personally dislike it. She also characterizes Kennith to be “child like”, which is really odd to me since canonically, he’s an adult and Christopher is still a minor. I know it’s only a one year age gap, but I have more thoughts on the ship itself below.

Now for the ship itself, I’m not a fan at all. Sorry. But don’t take this being the only reason I don’t really like Vefve, as seen above theres more understandable reasons for my distaste other than me being nitpicky. The ship itself doesn’t really work for me, especially by how realistically, it would be really toxic. Toxic ships have a right to exist, but I feel like if it got into the hands of Vefve or people like her, it would be glamorized to hell and back. (pun intended)

Other thoughts

Generally, the very risky and otherwise odd things she post of Christopher and the fanart her fans make her is very jarring, especially knowing the context of Christopher as a character and his age.

The dynamic of Vefve’s version of Chrisken is just really generic and oddly fetishistic. I’m not accusing anything, but being honest, their relationship feels like it was written by a person who just discovered gay people existed. Sorry. That was mean. But I’m trying to give my honest opinion.

Vefve’s behavior towards people who dislike her is somewhat immature for an adult. Yes, I do understand that some people send death threats to her which can be a bit overboard, but Vefve going out of her way to make post about them seems unnecessary if she can just block them.

I don’t like using the word cringe, but Vefve is cringe. Sorry. I genuinely hate using the word cringe by how watered down the meaning became, but I have no other label to think of when it comes to Vefve. Her fans are no different either. Sorry, that was also mean. Please don’t publicly execute me.

These were my honest thoughts on Vefve. I know that I might be dogpiled for even criticizing her for anything, but I feel like someone had so say at least something. If I missed anything, I’ll edit this, but whoever read through this whole thing and agree with me, have a good day. And if you disagree, also have a good day, but if please don’t associate with me.

And if Vefve is reading this, hi, stay cringe, but don’t thirst over canonically minor characters. Thank you.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter One

Pairing: Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest. Now, with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans bring you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Word Count: 67+ and counting (of the whole fic)

Chapters: 10/??

Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. 

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

____________________________________________

Author note: Hoteliers, This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?

<3 Stay Smutty

Chapter One - The Commercial

Content Warning: None but let me know if I missed any!

“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” - Mahatma Gandhi

____________________________________________

Your fingers find the brass handle as anxiety builds in the back of your throat. 

Are you nervous? Why are you nervous? The commercial seemed so inviting and everyone seemed so nice - even if it was a bit glitchy in some frames. If they are indeed as altruistic as they appear, then you’ll be fine! 

But, what if they don’t accept you? 

Nonsense, you just need to show that you care, that you can help. After all, Princess Morningstar wouldn’t turn help away, would she? You were there in the courtyard a few days ago when Heaven’s clock ticked down from one year to 6 months: 182 days right before your eyes. Damn… But it gave you an opening - a reason to repent as opposed to just showing up out of the blue and inventing some backstory in an attempt to explain your sudden desire to achieve redemption. It was an opportunity you couldn’t refuse. 

“Okay, so the Extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal…” 

As you stepped into the Hotel, you couldn’t help but be underwhelmed by the state of the place. From the outside it seemed big and glamorous - despite the random bits of cell phone tower and… was that a mast from a ship? On the inside, it was worse. Way worse. It wasn’t gross, it was an array of stuff… that was probably the best way to put it. The carpet was torn, the wallpaper peeling, parts of the wall had been tacked together with newer planks of wood to repair unknown sources of damage. It was… Well at least it didn’t smell… that bad… 

Emerging into the foyer, small suitcase in hand - after all, you didn’t own much - you searched for the front desk, but the only thing resembling any sort of check-in area was a bar where a cat-bird thing was organizing bottles. 

To your left was a small inlet before a fireplace, fit with television and radio where two demons sat, listening to a blonde haired bellhop pace.

“… well just handle it! Right!?” The girl grabbed at her hair.

No, not a bellhop. Princess Charlie Morningstar. God, she looked just like her dad. The only thing she got from Lilith was her height. Probably a good thing…

Your heart sank at the sight of her. Biting back the flood of memories threatening to spill down your face, you take a deep breath and enter. 

“Yes,” a grey demon stood, a waterfall of dark hair brushed the floor as she walked. “We will.” She grabs Charlie’s shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing. 

They still hadn’t noticed you. Was this eavesdropping? Were you being rude? That wouldn’t make for a great first impression. 

You took a few hesitant steps forward hoping they’d hear your heels clack against the wood.

“Oh please,” the spider-looking thing sitting on the couch scoffed, staring down at his phone as he talked. “Ya’ had less than half a chance before you started all this salvation bullshit. And now… ain’t no silver linin’, toots.” 

You cleared your throat, having practically snuck up on the group. 

“Oh my gosh!” The blonde squeaked as the grey demon with ridiculously long hair pulled a spear on you, stepping before the Princess. 

You dropped the suit case immediately, raising your arms to show you meant no harm.

“Who are you? What are you doing sneaking around?” She demanded.

Your eyes flit to the “X” eye patch, then to the silver tip mere inches from your nose.

Oh shit, this girl’s the Fallen. Relax, you accounted for that. So long as she doesn’t recognize you…

“I’m sorry!” You squeak, taking a half step back. She follows, her spear not leaving your face. “I tried making noise but you must not have heard me. I was just looking to check-in but…”

“Huh!” The Princess gasped so loud it made your ears pop. 

Pushing the ex-Exorcist - huh, funny - aside the blond grabs your shoulders and squeezes. “Are you a guest!?” Her eyes sparkled. 

“Well, yeah. I was hoping…” you didn’t get a chance to finish before she brought you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe. She lifted you off your feet and spun you in a circle before placing you back on the ground. 

“Yay! Vaggie, our very first guest!” She sang. 

“Hey!” The spider finally looked up from his phone. “I’m sittin’ right ‘ere ya’ know?” 

Did he have six eyes or two? Hard to tell but the pink dots decorating his face blinked when he did. 

Creepy.

“Okay, hun,” the Fallen drops her spear, taking Charlie by the arm in an endearing way, but you really knew it was to hold her back. “Let’s give our guest some space. Let her breathe. She can’t be redeemed if you suffocate her and she dies… Again.” 

“Right,” she laughs, reigning herself in. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Her arms fan out to the room, gesturing to the rundown establishment. 

You musture a genuine smile, not because you’re impressed with the place but because the Princess’ happiness was infectious.

“My name is Charlie!” She takes your hand in hers.

“My name is Thestral,” you answer between the vigorous shakes rolling up your arm. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” the Fallen pulls Charlie away from you. “I’m Vaggie. The guy on the couch is Angel and Husk is behind the bar.” 

Angel gives you a mindless wave, frowning at something on his phone. The bar cat tips his hat to you before pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Was the bartender supposed to drink the supply? Also, wasn’t it barely nine in the morning? 

“Let me get your bag!” Charlie snatches the hardback suitcase before you have a chance to protest. Dragging you by the elbow, she insists upon a tour.

The Hotel was cute - if not a weird hodgepodge of thrown together dimensions. The bar was clearly cut from somewhere else, the piano room is definitely not of this century, and don’t get you started on the pool. All in all however, it was cute. You could see yourself here, in the library reading late at night with a glass of red, in the music room practicing your piano, on the back balcony enjoying the breeze and screams of innocents. It wasn’t perfect - nothing compared to the luxury you experienced before Hell - but it felt home-y. 

“This is you!” Charlie pulls a key from her pocket as she stops before a door. “Angel is to the left and Alastor is just across the hall.” Grabbing your arm once more, she drags you inside.

It’s cute but humble - something you’d expect from a bed and breakfast and not a city hotel. The room is huge, with a four post bed wrapped in white sheets, neatly tucked into the sides military style. To your left is a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table. Past that were two doors, one leading to a small walk-in closet and the other a tile bathroom.

Frankly, coming from sharing a cramped city apartment in Cannibal Town to this was a huge step up as far as you were concerned. 

“Here you are!” She dropped a black key in your hand, a cat’s eye decorating the handle. Finally, a room to call your own. “Nifty cleans on Sundays and…”

“Wait, my room gets cleaned?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. 

“Of course! We don’t want you to have anything to worry about when you stay with us. Redemption is the goal, afterall!” Charlie sang. 

That was going to be a problem… 

Charlie stood staring at you for a long moment, her eyes sparkling in the low light. Her hands cupped her chin as she smiled at you with such emotion you were surprised her face didn’t split in half right there. She looked like a small child, waiting for a candy bar or something. 

God, you didn’t realize how enthusiastic she would be about all this. Now is definitely not the time to tell her you had no intentions of being redeemed. You were just here for the chaos. Frankly, any normal person would feel guilty right about now, but not you. 

Oh, you had far bigger plans for Ms. Morningstar, she just didn’t know it yet. 

“Okay,” Vaggie steps up, grabbing her by the collar. “We’ll let you get unpacked. It’s Sunday so brunch is at eleven in the kitchen. We’ll come get you and show you the way. If you need anything there’s a rotary phone by the bed, just call Husk at the bar. He’s always there…” 

“A rotary phone?” You scrunch your nose.

Sure enough, a black rotary phone sat on the bedside table. What century was this? Cannibal Town was stuck in the 1900s but at least they had cell phones. 

“Yeah, the Hotel Manager is a bit outdated with his tastes…” Vaggie grumbles. You sensed tension in her comment but didn’t ask for further details.

“Anyway!” Charlie puts a hand on your shoulder. “We’re really, REALLY glad you’re here.” She breathed in your face, her voice cracking with the threat of tears. 

God, she even had Lucifer’s mannerisms…

You huffed, blowing off the extra emotions her smile pushed into you. “Thank you for taking me in.”

Watching as the Exorcist pulled the Princess back down the hallway, you shut your door and collapsed against the wood. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. Charlie was going to be someone you could only handle in small doses. 

The Princess definitely didn’t recognize you and neither did Vaggie. She might be Hell Royalty but she was oblivious. 

Did she know about Vaggie? Maybe she did and has already accepted it. This place is about second chances after all. 

It didn’t take you long to unpack, after all you didn’t have many personal possessions. A few sets of clothes, some boots and heels, your toiletries and makeup… The suitcase was only half full when you packed it with every possession you owned. Now all you could do was stand before the mirror in the bathroom and stare at yourself as the anxiety began to build again. You fixed your red lipstick over and over until it drove you mad. Throwing the makeup back into your bag, your mind turned to your outfit. 

You were dressed in black slacks which sat high on your hips, fanning out at your legs. Tucked into your waistband was a white button up, giving you the hourglass appearance. Your silver hair was twisted into a bun at the back of your head, a metal clip holding it in place. Your eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, your yellow irises emitting their own form of light. 

Out of all the animalistic appearances in Hell, you were gifted the rare form of a somewhat normal human shape. No tail, no ears, no horns - well, in your normal state anyway. It was just you, with skin as pale white as Charlie’s and a nose tipped in black. You stood a normal five foot four, but in heels you could argue five and a half. You didn’t have canines as sharp and distinct as others, but hey who needed them? You preferred fighting with your hands, anyway. 

Frankly, you were boring compared to the Sinners and Natives of Hell. The most interesting note was the tattoo which spanned your back from shoulder blades to your hips, but that wasn’t important at the moment. 

Your mind returned to your clothes again. They were nice, nothing too flashy and definitely not Velvette brand, but were they too much? Weekend brunches in Cannibal Town were always such a classy affair, something you were expected to dress up for despite the messy array of food which was served. 

Was that expected here? 

As if on cue, a door opens in the hallway and footsteps echo across the carpet. 

Perhaps you should ask. 

Racing to the door, you peak your head out to find Angel heading to the stairs, his nose stuck in his phone. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” You chirp. It was barely audible and he wasn’t paying attention but you were a new voice, which definitely drew him from whatever battle was playing itself out on his screen. 

“Oh, hey!” He tucked the cell phone back into his pocket. His face contorted into a smile, he was doing his best not to show his frustration but it was still quite obvious. “They put ya’ right next to me aye?” He leans against the doorframe, one arm on the wall, the other three at his hips. “Just a fair warning. I can get a little loud. If ya’ know what I mean?” He winks at you, a knowing smile spreading across his sharp teeth as he elbows your side.

God, he was tall, he’d have to be like six foot three or something. 

Up close, and with his attention fully on you, you could finally study his eyes: right eye sclera black, left white. Someone owned him, but with restrictive conditions. 

You already knew the answer: Valentino. Hey, what can ya’ say? You did your homework. 

“Do you guys dress up for brunch or is it more casual?” You smiled, doing your best not to stare at the pink dots blinking back at you on his cheeks. Still creepy. 

“Oh, uh, I dunno, toots. I normally just go in whatever I have on.” He gestured to his pink striped shirt and long boots. 

Casual it is then.

“But if ya’ prefer. I could go in nothing at all,” he purrs, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. You got the sense that it wasn’t genuine flirting. That he was trying to make you smile more than anything else. He enjoys entertaining others like that. Probably why he became a Porn Star - and such a famous one at that. 

His face lit up at your laugh. 

“Great, the wire in this bra is killing me!” You mime a pain in your back, eliciting a laugh from the spider demon himself. 

“I like yous,” he holds out a hand to shake. “Names Angel Dust.” 

“Thestral,” you shook his furry hand - he had so many, you wondered how he went shopping for shirts. 

“Thestral? Like the dead horses from ‘arry Potter?” 

“You know your JK Rowling?” 

Angel had to have died in like the 40s/50s - from what research you did before coming here. How did he know about the books and movies made popular in the 2010s? 

“Yeah, she ended up down here after she died. Kept writing weird shit about her characters. Really changed my views on the Potterverse. It was shocking for a while but you can only be so entertaining on Sinstagram and Vitter for so long these days.” He shrugged. 

“Huh, for some reason that doesn’t surprise me, but thank you. The last place I lived, everyone was expected to dress for meals and I just wanted to be sure.” 

“No problem, toots. If ya’ don’t mind me askin’, how long yous been down here? If ya’ didn’t know about the Potter thang, it couldn’t have been that long?” His accent: New York? 

“Just shy of six years, actually,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously, feeling the bubbles beginning to fester inside you. 

You’ve done work to gather information before, but you’ve never had to act like you were now. You were always behind a mask… How many details were too many to share? 

“Oh, damn, just shy of being a Fleshy!” He smiles. 

“A Fleshy?” You scrunch your nose.

“Yeah, the living or whatnot.” He pulls out his phone again, frowning at the notification screen before pulling up an app. Something was definitely bothering him. “Hey, whatcha say we head down a little early? I can pull up her Vitter page and show ya’ some good ones?” The spider demon smiled, frustration weighing down his eyebrows. He had a single gold tooth which sparkled in the low light. 

“Sure!” You tried to respond not too excitedly. 

This was the plan. Get in early with one of the Hotel mates and use it as a way to get information on the others. 

You had thought it was going to be Husk. What bartender didn’t love gossip? But here was Angel offering himself up on a silver platter. 

You only had about an hour before brunch was served, but those sixty minutes laying in the alcove by the fireplace were the most hilarious minutes of your life. Angel had you laughing so hard you were crying. Things were going well. Despite the constant text messages from Valentino you pretended not to notice chime across the screen.

At about eleven, a small girl named Nifty - who introduced herself as the housemaid - emerged from the kitchen to announce that brunch was ready, and as everyone piled into the room and found their designated places, you realized you didn’t know where to go. It was like being the new kid at school walking into the lunchroom with a sack lunch and not a friend in the world to rescue you. 

“Hey” Angel waved you to the only available seat left, which just so happened to be at the head. “Sit next to me, will ya’?” 

Relief.

“No! That’s Mr. Alastor’s seat!” Nifty protested from her place by the oven. Her entire body practically vibrated with energy. 

“Mr. Alastor?” That name definitely did not come up in your research.

“Relax, Tiny. Smiles is on the terrace this morning drinkin’ his tea.” Angel leaned back in his chair, one set of arms folded behind his head. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill ‘em. Or maybe it will and we can finally be free o’ him and his creepy, ol’ timey ways. Either way, we’ll be fine.” 

You blinked a few times before hesitantly falling into the seat. Nifty gave a great sigh as she watched you sit, not liking it but allowing it. She busied herself with serving platters of food, her lips twisted in a pout.

It’s a chair. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Maybe he was one of those people who was territorial with their things? 

As you sat and passed the food around, you couldn’t help the hairs which prickled on the back of your neck. How could you have missed another guest at the Hotel? You swore you wrote down everyone you saw in that glitchy commercial and did thorough research before coming here. You were never this sloppy. 

“Can I get you anything to drink, Thestral?” Charlie was at the fridge with five different bottles of liquid in her hand, eagerly awaiting your answer. 

“Coffee would be great,” you smiled through a mouth full of eggs, one hand over your face to be polite. God, Nifty was a great cook. You usually never ate breakfast but this was amazing. 

The Hotel inhabitants sat and talked like family. This place has only been open what? Two weeks? And already they got along like they’ve lived together for years. It was kinda cute actually but spelled issues for your plans. A close-knit group like this - especially so fast - only meant it was going to be harder to work your way in. Sure, Angel hung out with you for the past hour and you had a great time, but that was just surface level stuff. You were going to need to dig deeper. 

“No! Nobody look at me,” Husk grumbled from a few seats down. “That machine is a nightmare.” He motioned to the silver espresso machine sitting on the corner countertop behind you. 

It looked brand new, barely been touched! A machine like that probably cost hundreds and they weren’t using it?

“I’m sorry.” Charlie frowned from her place by the fridge. “We’ve had it for a while and no one can figure it out. Husk took a look at it last and although he tried, we got nowhere. Nifty bought beans for it and everything…”

A small smile found your lips, “Mind if I take a look?” 

“Goodluck with that kiddo, that machine is cursed,” Husk buried his head in his arms, the orange juice in front of him bubbling with alcohol - which you would guess was more booze than orange at how much of his flask you saw him pouring into it earlier. 

Seems like everyone knows, as no one glanced his way when it happened, but no one seemed to mind his drinking habits this early in the morning. Most likely a recurrent behavior then…

Husk was an old soul, probably the oldest one in this room. The cat had a history of gambling debts which mysteriously disappeared one day - the day he fell from power. You didn’t know the exact details but you heard it wasn’t pretty afterwards. The Vees swooped in pretty fast and gobbled up what remained of the fallen Overlord’s territory. It’s part of the reason they are where they are now. You wondered if the others knew about him? Maybe, seeing as how he’s found himself at the hotel built on second chances. 

Taking the beans from Nifty, you quickly check over the machine. It’s a simple Breville Barista model, nothing too top of the line, but still a commercial appliance. 

You wonder who they sent out on the errand to get this because they clearly had no idea what they were getting. This thing was meant for a high end coffee chain, to be used for hours straight, not sitting in a run down hotel’s kitchen. Regardless, you knew the model and how to use it.

Preheating the machine, you fill the grinder with beans before asking, “Hey Husk, pick your poison.”

He blinks at you a few times before answering. “Double espresso.” 

Simple enough.

Clicking a single wall basket into the portafilter, you fill the metal device with ground beans before tapping it flat. Sliding it into the machine with a click, you grab two shot glasses and watch as the brew fills to the line, the fresh scent of chocolate, caramel, and nuts fill the kitchen. You pour both into a white glass and send it down the table to Husk who sits dumbfounded at the end of the kitchen. In fact, everyone had stopped eating completely to watch you work.

Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you count the eyes boring into you. 

Oh, fuck. You drew too much attention to yourself. 

“Fuck, kid. This is good.” Husk chirps from the end of the table, having taken his first sip. “Where’d you learn to do that?” 

“I worked at a cafe just outside Cannibal Town when I first got here,” you rub the back of your neck, an uncomfortable laugh escaping your lips. “They had a machine just like this, but far bigger.” 

That was true. After you fell, you were set up with a place to stay and a job at the local coffee shop which sat inbetween Cannibal Town and the border zone. It didn’t only serve certain… appetites, but was meant for a wider audience. You served everything from finger cakes (yes, fingers in the cakes) to bagels and cream cheese alongside the coffee creations. 

“Oooh, Cannibal Town. This kid’s got bite,” Angel laughs. “I didn’t know you swung that way.” The spider demon shovels another pile of eggs onto his plate. He ate a lot. 

“Oh, no. Not really, I just happened to… land there.” Technically you weren’t lying. 

That first day in Hell was brutal. You smacked into cement face first, a pile of blood and broken bones. Luckily the streets weren’t crowded, and you were found and taken care of before anyone even noticed. 

“So you just stayed in Cannibal Town for fun?” Vaggie didn’t look impressed. In fact, she looked suspicious - ever the hypervigilant soldier she was designed to be. 

“Well…” There it was, the rubbing on the back of your neck again. By the end of today, your skin was going to be raw. 

God, why was this so much easier with a mask on? 

“Hey!” Charlie cut in, clearly sensing your discomfort. “You don’t have to tell us.” She cups your hands within her own. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We can get to know you at your own pace. Don’t push yourself. Okay?” 

You offer her a sweet smile.

Wow, the Princess was really buying your act - or lack thereof, by how anxious this job was making you. 

“Now, do you know how to make a cappuccino?” She motioned back to the machine. You silently thanked her for the change in conversation. 

A genuine smile formed on your lips, “what kind of milk?” 

The rest of the brunch passed quickly after you showed off your artistic masterpiece that was to become Vaggie’s coffee. The Princess ordered the beverage for her girlfriend, and after making a butterfly out of the milk atop the bubbles everyone else quickly got in line and ordered their own. 

It didn’t bother you, in fact it made you more comfortable. You got to observe their behavior and interactions as a silent third party noting the ways in which they teased each other. 

Husk could be a grump but you got the sense that he was a big softie. You couldn’t tell if Angel was actually flirting with the cat demon or just pushing his buttons, either way, the barkeep slunked out, flask in hand, with red cheeks. 

When the chair started rattling, Nifty was prohibited from drinking anymore caffeine. She put up a pretty good fight but as soon as she saw a bug, she took off after it, needle in hand. 

Angel returned to the couch, face in his phone, clearly stressed about something. 

After helping with the dishes - Charlie protested but you insisted - she invited you to join the three of them by the fire where you had found them earlier that morning. You didn’t really have anything else to do, other than to try and win over the Hotel natives. 

You could go hide in your room - the Lord knows your social meter needed the break. The group was welcoming but was… a lot. Especially Charlie, but the Princess and Vaggie had questions about the commercial and how Sinners were handling the recent date change for the Extermination. You shrugged and offered whatever you could - which wasn’t a lot. 

“They’re desperate,” you answered. 

“That’s right, they’re desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the Extermination,” Vaggie smiled, smacking her fist against her hand. 

“Worked for me,” you shrugged, watching Angel from the corner of your eye. 

Your heart melted a little for the spider demon. Valentino was known to be ruthless and manipulative - and the way he treated women… It was why you never took a job from the Overlord, let alone gave him a card. In fact, none of the Vees had your card. You didn’t like them, but you didn’t need to see how it affected Angel to decide that. 

“This would be a perfect time to recruit more Sinners for the Hotel! We should get more rooms ready!” Charlie beamed. Of course she would find a way to spin this into something good. 

“Cute idea and all, but are you really gonna go out in all this?” Angel turns his phone around, videos of the Doomsday Distract flash across the screen. 

It was pretty chaotic, but when was that place not on fire? 

“Well, it’s not like all Sinners are going to show up on our doorstep like Thestral did.” Charlie offered, motioning to you. 

She wasn’t wrong… 

BOOM! 

Ah, perfect timing, Princess. 

The entire Hotel rocked as dust and debris filled the foyer burning your lungs and eyes. 

“Show yourself, Alassstor!” A voice echoed from outside. 

The four of you ran to the now collapsed wall, veering into the streets to get a better look. Husk simply rolled his eyes and took another drink. 

He was used to this? 

Floating above the cobblestone streets was a yellow blimp equipped with an army of… eggs? 

“Who are you?” A voice chimed from above, but it was… different - static-y…

“Who am I? Who am I?! I am the great Ssssssir Pentiousssss!” Deep within the zeppelin stood a black and yellow snake at the helm. He was dressed to the nines in army regalia. 

Hmm, Sir Pentious? Had you heard of him before? You wracked your brain trying to think but nothing immediately came of mind. He had resources - clearly Carmilla Carmine supplies him by the brand on the metal - but was he a threat? He did put a hole through the building. 

You spun studying his dirty work. 

A missile? Sloppy, but still a step up from the lowest rung of demon. 

“Inventor, architect of dessstruction, villain extraordinaire!” The snake twirls his arms, gesturing to himself and his work. 

You scoff. Yeah right… 

“Ooh you tell 'em boss!” The eggs chime. 

What the fuck…? The eggs are sentient? Now that’s kind of interesting. 

Testing the waters, you let an invisible finger of power slip from you and slither over to the zeppelin. It poked and prodded till it found a way through the metal before coming to rest by the snake demon’s tail. Gently, you caressed his form, searching for the power his soul possessed. 

Yes, he definitely still had his soul, but from what you gathered - or rather, lack of what you gathered - this demon was no more a threat than a mosquito was to an elephant. But a better question was, what brought him here? 

A chime of static fills the air, like little bolts of electricity, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. 

What the…?

You spin, checking behind you to find the source of the static snaking its way down your spine, but no one was there. 

Charlie yelps, bringing your attention back to the group, as a trail of shadow crawls between her feet, giving way to a demon in red materializing from the darkness. 

How did he do that? 

The demon’s back was to you, his attention fully on the blimp. You didn’t recognize his silhouette. His deer ears, hooves, and antlers were pretty iconic, but you didn’t know any demon like that. He wasn’t a Hellborn, his profile didn’t fit any of the creatures Hell bred. So a Human Sinner then?

The demon stood before you, a red suit complete with red-tipped black boots, and black slacks. His jacket was long, ending at his knees. The hair atop his head was cut cleanly, red and tipped in black, and tousled ever so perfectly.  

Yeah, you had no idea who this guy was. Which did not sit well with you. 

Nifty materializes on his shoulder. When had she slipped out here? “Ooh, he’s a bad boy,” the tiny demon sings. 

Okay then…

The demon lifts her from his person and drops her gently onto the cement. “Ha, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you!” 

His voice isn’t just static, it’s like a radio? 

The snake drops his smile. “I attacked you literally last week.”

The red demon cocks his head.

“We've done battle, like... 20 times.”

The demon brings both hands to his staff. No, that’s not right, microphone? “Well, you must have been really bad at this.” 

You snort, but do your best to stifle the giggle into your palm. 

The demon stiffens. You swear you see his shadow elongate in your direction. A trick of the light? An hallucination? You look to Angel for direction but he’s too busy watching the interaction, clearly entertained. 

“Silence! Now cower! For when I've ssslain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal.” 

Nifty reappears on the demon’s shoulder, garnering his attention. “Ooh! Wait, who are the Vees?” 

“Oh, nobody important,” the red demon sings. 

Nobody important, eh? For someone to so easily dismiss the Vees like that they’d have to either be stupid or think themselves more powerful - in both cases, they’re stupid. I agree, independently, the Vees are more annoying than anything. One by one they weren’t a threat, but all three together… 

Testing a theory, you let that tendril of power sneak from your core, and just as you had Sir Pentious, you let it slither to the base of the demon’s shoes. Delicately prodding…

SMACK! 

A slap hits your power so hard it sends your head spinning. You fall backwards into Angel who wraps his arms under your shoulders to steady you. 

“You okay, toots?” Angel whispers in your ear, your vision spinning. 

Holy shit. 

It was either the sheer force of the blow or the dizziness in its wake, but you swore you saw faces laughing at you in the shadows. 

“Uh,” you shake your head, willing the sting to subside. 

Jesus, what was that? You’ve never had a reaction like that before… 

“I think so?” You find your feet. “Just all the excitement… Caught me off guard.” You give him a fake laugh. He shrugs it off. 

What the fuck…?

The next thing you know, Charlie’s grip is on your arm. “I promise it’s not always like this!” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Vaggie shake her head. “Yes it is..” she grumbles before swearing under her breath in… Spanish? 

Patting Charlie’s arm, you assure her that it doesn’t bother you. That Cannibal Town - and anywhere else in Pentagram City for that matter - were far worse than this place. Which was true. The only place you could get any peace and quiet was the Wrath Ring - way out in the country. Not that you’d been to the Wrath Ring… Technically… 

The attention is finally turned away from you when an array of tendrils shoots from the red demon’s form. They descend upon the blimp, shredding it to pieces. The eggs spark into a panic as their helmsman desperately shouts commands. 

Maniac laughs bubble in the demon’s chest as he slowly gets to work. It takes a moment before you realize it, but he isn’t taking his time because he has to, he’s doing it to toy with the snake demon. He enjoys the destruction. 

You watch as the tension in the demon’s shoulder slowly diminishes with each attack. The pure enjoyment brings a small smile to your lips. 

So this guy enjoys chaos just as much as you do, huh? 

“Um… Alastor!” 

Ah, so this is the famous Mr. Alastor? 

The Princess slowly approaches the demon, but it isn’t fear you smell wafting off her person, it’s… anxiety? “I think he’s had enough.”

Vaggie is on Charlie’s heels in an instant, her hands flying to her back to summon her spear just in case. 

So little Ms. Morningstar wasn’t afraid of him, but Vaggie sure as Hell doesn’t trust him. Interesting. 

“Nah. He’s got a few more hits in him.” Angel crosses his arms, clearly entertained by the onslaught. Despite the chaotic scene before us, his eyes occasionally flit to the red demon - keeping him within eyesight. 

Hmm, Angel didn’t trust him either. 

You take a step forward but Angel pulls you back, shaking his head. 

The snake demon falls from the zeppelin, landing face first with a smack on the pavement. You couldn’t help but grimace. That had to hurt. 

Alastor twirls his staff - microphone? - as an egg falls and breaks into pieces at Charlie’s feet.

 “Thanks for another forgettable experience!” He sings.

Okay, that you do laugh at. This guy was pretty witty, you had to give it to him. 

The four Hotel Natives shoot you a look of disbelief as you giggle into your hand. Looking between you and the red demon, fear slowly etching across their brows.

Alastor’s shoulders stiffen as he turns, finding the source of giggles rumbling through your chest. His smile is pulled taut across his cheek, but the look he gives you… it wasn’t confusion necessarily swimming behind his eyes, more so like he didn’t know what to think. 

The giggles die down as your cheeks heat under his gaze. 

Was he not used to people finding him funny? 

“Thank you… For letting your guard down!” The snake’s tail whips forward and rips the corner of Alastor’s suit from his person. A small chunk of fabric gives way. “Aha! Yah!” The snake celebrates before noticing the purely demonic smile overcoming the red demon’s face. “Oh, shit…” 

The red demon’s antlers grow as an aura of green overtakes the atmosphere. From his microphone an explosion of green bursts through, sending the snake demon flying across Pentagram City. 

Hmm… Why didn’t he just kill him? He’s just gonna come back. The mosquitos always do. 

“Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor!” The demon inspects his jacket. Despite his jovial attitude, you could see the irritation in his eyebrows. 

A mask. This demon was wearing a mask. 

Finally, now that the chaos was over, you had a chance to inspect the red demon. He must have felt your eyes on him, for when he finally looked up, his gaze was locked with yours. Your cheeks heated under the pressure of his gaze. His eyes, glowing like red crystal in direct sunlight, made your legs feel heavy and your chest tight. 

Was it getting harder to breathe or was it just you? Are you… Are you intimidated right now? No. You’ve never been intimidated by a demon in your life. Angels maybe, but never a Human Sinner. What was wrong with you? 

“And who might this be?” Your heart fluttered at the purr in his voice. 

Twirling his microphone behind his back, he took a step towards you, standing tall at his full height. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, now cast in his shadow. It felt eerily colder in the shade, but there was something else there too. An extra presence you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

The demon was dressed to the nines. His red suit perfectly tailored to his form. It splayed out around his hips, accentuating a waist line supporting a broad chest. His hair was cropped short around his angular face, his eyes half-lidded as they bore into you. The red of his irises practically glowing. He was a classy demon, clearly not of this century. He regarded you with a sense of curiosity - an aura of green still lingered, however. It was meant to intimidate you, not necessarily threaten you. 

Okay, this guy thinks he’s tough shit, huh? 

Before Charlie had a chance to intervene, you thrust your arm forward, meeting his eyes, not backing down to his overwhelming sense of self importance. 

“Thestral, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Alastor.” You offer him a soft smile. 

You took the shift of stiffness in his shoulders to mean that you had made the wrong move. This was a demon who carried himself quite highly - probably used to lesser demons cowering in his presence, not laughing at his jokes or meeting his eyeline let alone offering their hand first. At that, he didn’t know what to make of you, which made you dangerous. Which made you a target of interest. 

Shit. 

Day one and you’re already fucking up the whole “lay low” part of the plan.  

“Oh, darling, you flatter me,” he takes your hand. “Just Alastor will do.” 

A shiver rolls down your spine as the tips of his claws scrape across your skin, so sharp they could cut flesh. They probably have, but you weren’t worried. He couldn’t hurt you anyway. Not really.

“Well, ‘Just Alastor,’ thank you for the entertainment.” You cross both arms behind your back mimicking his stance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Angel’s jaw drop. 

“Of course! I live to please! I’m not the Hotel Manager for nothing!” There it is again, a small shift in his body language. He didn’t know what to make of your lack of fear. 

The static is interrupted by a laugh track, sounding as if from a live studio audience - from a radio.

“So does that mean you’re going to do you’re job?” Vaggie takes a step forward, motioning to the half destroyed wall of the Hotel. 

“Of course! Can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already! What would the papers say?” With a snap of his fingers, black ink demons appear with construction tools. 

Five. Five faceless demons. Which means he owns at least five souls. But that was not nearly enough power to equate to the destruction you had just witnessed. 

By the time you turn back to him, he’s already strolling down the cobblestone path and off into Pentagram City. You couldn’t help still feeling watched, however, like the sensation of his red eyes still on your form, but nowhere to be found. 

You spun but again, no one was watching you. 

“Word of advice, stay away from him,” Vaggie crosses her arm in Charlie’s, ready to lead her back inside. 

“Yeah, Hairclip,” Angel Dust appears behind you, poking at the silver metal in your hair. “You got a lot of balls on you to stand up to that one.” 

“What does that mean?” You scrunch your nose in confusion. 

“Well…” Charlie takes a step forward, touching the tips of her fingers together with anxiety. “Alastor can be a little…”

Before she has a chance to respond, Vaggie and Angel offer suggestions. 

“Creepy.” 

“Unpredictable.” 

“Insane.” 

“Murderous.” 

“Bloodthirsty.” 

“Aren’t those basically the same thing?” Angel shrugs. 

“He’s a bad boy,” Nifty chirps by your ankle. 

Where did she come from? 

“Temperamental,” Charlie offers with an awkward smile.

Why did that not feel like a compromising adjective? 

“The point is, Alastor is dangerous. It would be best not to poke and prod him too much,” Vaggie runs a hand through her ridiculously long hair, huffing.

Poke and prod… Shit! Shit! Shit! That force I felt slap my power away earlier, was that him? Did he know it was me? No! No! No! This wasn’t good. This was anything but good. 

The blood melted from your face. 

“Hey toots, you don’t look so good. Maybe we should get ya’ back inside?” Angel’s arm comes to rest on your shoulder, leading you towards the doors. “Don’t sweat it too much. He’s harmless as long as you’re not a threat. He won’t lay a finger on ya’, we won’t let him. Right gurls?” 

“Right.” They chime as you made your way through the double doors. 

This job just got a lot more complicated…

SCREECH! 

“What the fuck is that?” Husk yells from behind the bar, his claws over his ears. 

The television by the fireplace hisses, having turned itself on. 

“Welcome home!” The box sang. “I’m going to make you wish that you stayed gone!” 

The screen jumped through a few stations of fuzz before settling on a news broadcast. Vox, the media demon, sat behind a reporter’s desk, going on and on about… the Radio Demon? 

As if in response, the radio in the foyer screams to life, making the five of you jump. 

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air!” You recognized the old timey voice as Alastor’s.

“What the fuck is goin’ on!?”Angel screamed over the noise. 

Vaggie ran over to the television and ripped the cord out of the wall. No good, the television continued to flash images of Vox screaming as if he could hear and respond to Alastor’s radio. 

The Exorcist fisted the cord in frustration before pulling her spear from the Void. Charlie stopped her, however, preventing her from destroying the only piece of real technology in this building besides the coffee maker. 

The Hotel Natives and you were subjected to the torture that was Alastor’s and Vox’s tantrum, until finally, they both shut down. 

“Holy Jesus, what the fuck was all that about?” Angel screamed, his ears ringing from the noise. 

“Fucking Vox and his ego,” Husk grumbled from the bar. The cat poured himself a drink. 

“Ahhhhhh!” A eardrum splitting scream pierced the air, making you all, yet again, jump and cover your ears. Vaggie ran to the radio and shut it off rescuing whatever was left of your hearing from… well, whatever the fuck that was. 

“Was that part of Alastor’s bit?” Angel asked the room. 

No one answered, for no one knew the answer. Seems Alastor is a big mystery around here. 

“Drink anyone?” Husk raised a bottle of whiskey in question. 

Fuck, after that you needed one. Silently cursing yourself for your lack of thoroughness in your research, you joined the bar cat. 

You huffed as you sat on the stool.

“You good?” Husk asked, pulling out a menu.

“Yeah,” you rubbed your temples, willing the forming headache away. “Just a lot of homework to do.” 

____________________________________________

It was late, the sky turning towards darkness as opposed to its usual red light. 

The Greed Ring always smelled like metal to you. Not copper, like blood, but like the cold steel of coins. You weren’t in the Greed Ring, of course. Sinners couldn’t travel out of Pride - technically. Yet the stench clung to them nevertheless. 

You landed at the bottom of the cement path leading to the mansion, outside the gates. 

Normally your meetups were discreet, often conducted in the shadows of terraces, rooftops, or alleyways. Oh so rarely did people invite you inside. 

But not this time. This employer loved appearances so much so that he rented out a mansion on the edge of town just for this: a meeting that would last five, ten minutes tops. The vanity of Greed…

The demons next to you jumped as black smoke began to curl away revealing a hooded figure. 

“I believe I am expected,” a deep voice growled from beneath the fabric. Concealed in shadow, the shark demons opened the gate to let you pass, their guns shaking in their hands. Nearing the door, another set of demons stepped to the side, their eyes filled with fear. 

Ugh, how you so enjoyed the scent of terror as it wafted in waves from their forms. Pathetic, honestly. 

You found Crimson sitting before his fire, a glass of whiskey in hand, his hat set on the table next to him. The imp rubbed the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, clearly it had been a long day. The servant standing next to him, whiskey bottle and towel in hand, leans down to alert him of your presence. 

“Huh? What?” The crime lord jumps to his feet. “Already!?” He lets out a joyous laugh, before finding his hat and setting it between his horns.

Out of the corner of your eye, the waiter slinks from the room. The liquid in the whiskey bottle jostling as he shakes in fear. 

“Chaz is swimming with the fishes already, aye!?” Both hands grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, he stands before you, offering you a seat at the end of the table. Sliding into the head chair, he offers you a drink, which you refuse of course. 

He takes a long sip of his whiskey, letting the burn sink in before continuing. “Did he suffer?” 

You frowned.  No questions. He knew this. That was part of the deal. It was always part of the deal. 

“Ah, come on, can’t fault a guy for trying?” He laughs, but you aren’t amused. 

As if on cue, a shark demon enters the room, dropping a suitcase onto the table before skittering out of the room. Crim opens the case and turns it towards you to reveal fat stacks of cash lining the case’s bottom. 

“It’s all there, I assure you.” He lights a cigar and leans back in his chair. “Pentagram City currency, not the Native stuff.”

You ignore the money. You knew it was all there. You knew none of the bills were traceable. Crim was a pro when it came to moving money around. You didn’t have to worry about covering your tracks from this job like the last ones. Honestly, you didn’t deal in money that often. Your trade was in souls, but Crimson was a Hellborn, and head of a mafia gang at that. You’ve never done business with a Hell Native, so you were hoping your reputation was enough of a threat to keep him quiet. 

But, the money wasn’t why you took this case. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing he could see their yellow glow - the only part of your face anyone ever saw - before slipping a black gloved hand from your cloak. His eyes find your fingers, uncurled before him expectantly, as the scent hits your nose. 

Fear. 

You knew this diphsit wasn’t stupid enough not to be afraid of you. Was it the sight of your claws? Or the red still staining the leather? 

“Right. Right.” He dug into the hidden pocket of his jacket, producing an obsidian calling card. The flames from the fire flicker across its metal surface as he holds it out to you. 

Finally, you had won this card back. It had taken forever to track it down after the last person you entrusted it with lost it in a game of cards. Of all the things to wager! You’d have killed the demon, but senseless death wasn’t part of your repertoire. 

The card disappeared from the Pride Ring soon after, passing amongst the hands of Hell as it made its way downwards. It eventually became useless, a piece of metallic junk which eventually landed in Crimson’s hand. He figured out what it was, of course he would. He had eyes and ears everywhere - even in the Sinner’s Ring. So when he appeared in Pride a week ago and summoned you in the dead of night you knew you had to do whatever you could to get the calling card back. 

Even if it meant taking down a low level mark and solving some petty personal drama. The calling card now safely tucked away in the leather of your shirt, you stood and made your way to the door. 

“Ain’t you gonna take the money?” Crim motioned to the suitcase still sitting open on the table.

With a flick of your wrist the case closed, locked itself, and slipped into the Void. 

As you exited the room you could hear the imp demon call out after you, “Pleasure doing business with yous!”

Crim was known to be a man of his word, or he’d soon find himself a dead man…

Link to Chapter Two!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[onewmin]

boiling water | nanami kento

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Summary: Kento gets distracted by the memory of you.

Word count: ~2.3k

Author’s Note: it’s a sort of side story, Nanami’s pov, to the main fanfic that I’m currently working on. I’ll post the main story soon, so if this part gets you interested, let me know!! (warnings and the story are under the cut)

Warnings: AU (I guess, cause it contradicts the canon events a lot); smut MINORS DNI: slight fingering (f receiving), slight nipple play (f receiving), a description of penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks); established relationship, descriptions of past intercourse; some angst if you squint, Nanami hates himself; typos

Masterlist

Nanami Kento was a man of his word, it was an undeniable fact.

But it was difficult for him to keep his word when you were so deliciously rubbing your body under the hot water. Taking showers together was a ritual both of you had gotten accustomed to a long time ago: no matter how tired or upset you were, a shower before sleep had to be shared. Kento couldn’t get enough of your smooth skin under his calloused fingers, and the sweet scent of the shower gel he inhaled while peppering kisses along your neck. That was his stress relief, a solace in his gloomy days.

“Ken”, you said in a low voice, “could you rub my back, please?” He hummed and took the loofa from your hands, pressing it to your soft skin. Drawing circles of bubbles, Nanami pushed his body close to yours, his hand with the loofa going under your breasts. 

“Are you done there?” You whispered, your body leaning on his. 

“Mhm”, he replied, moving the loofa to your collarbones and then back to your breasts. “Care to put the loofa away?” You nodded, putting it back to the shelf. As you stood under the hot water, Nanami watched how your hands roamed around your body, washing the strawberry gel off, eyes closed. Your cheeks got a bit rosy as the water temperature was to your liking: boiling. When you shared the shower for the first time, Kento almost fainted and you had to help him go back to the bed and whispered countless apologies by peppering kisses all over his palms. Little did nineteen-year old Kento know four years later he’d be looking forward to these showers. 

“Come here”, you peered at him with hazy eyes as he cupped your cheeks. Having left a small kiss on your forehead, Kento pecked your lips. They were silken, pillowy against his; the addicting feeling of this moment, when your breath would softly tickle under his nose and your half-lidded eyes pierce through him. “I love you”, he muttered as his fingers caressed your cheek, “I love you more than anything in the world”.

You gave him a smile in response, arms wrapping around his neck. Warmth blossomed in Kento’s chest as you tilted your head and parted your lips, inviting him to finally kiss you. In a flash, his lips were on yours, hands tightened on your waist. You tasted like mango flavored tea and chocolate ice cream the two of you shared after dinner. Nanami’s head started spinning — was it the boiling water? — no, the intoxicating taste of you on his lips was driving him absolutely insane. How could it be possible to ever let this go, to ever abandon these little whimpers ‘cause his hands grabbed your ass without stopping the kiss?

“Kento”, you gasped, burying your head in the crook of his neck, “Kento, please”. Before he knew, you were leaving sloppy, wet kisses alongside his jaw. Stopping himself from letting out a moan, Nanami moved his hand lower, right to your aching core.

“Uh, Kento”, you rasped, “fuck me here. Please, Ken, fuck-“

Nanami growled. Your pleas were always a song to his ears, a sweet little melody he was eager to hear whenever he could. When his fingers ran through your slick folds, he closed his eyes and hissed — the man was about to break his word given to you several months ago. Wouldn’t he appear as a horny teenager in your eyes if he indulged in it now?

“Ken, what’s wrong?” Your hands cupped his cheeks as you forced him to look at you. Nanami sighed, hands reaching behind you to turn the water off. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt”, he mumbled, arms wrapped around your torso. “I almost dropped you the last time we-“

“Ken”. You interrupted him, your warm lips brushing against his. “You don’t have to hold me, when we have sex”, a small peck left on his lips, “I can just… turn around”. A suggestive look on your face got his dick twitching, aching for being buried inside your velvety walls. But Nanami shook his head as he kissed your forehead.

“I wanna see your face”, he purred in your skin.

“My face or my tits?” You laughed. He returned a smile and kissed you lightly. 

“Both”.

Less than two minutes passed before the two of you were on the bed, your back pressed against cotton sheets as Nanami devoured your lips with his. He still kept his promise, though — I’m not gonna fuck you in the shower ever again, for your sake — as he couldn’t drop you from the bed. The last time your wet pussy was bouncing on his shaft, he almost dropped your body on the floor when his foot slipped. Holding you while standing, gripping your butt when he pounded into you while you gripped his shoulders and repeated his name as a mantra was a view worth fucking you right in the shower; but when he almost lost his balance and let go of your legs, Nanami had his heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of injuring you. So he swore to you a thousand times he wouldn’t do it again: neither sex nor any form of foreplay. 

The word was kept, still. 

Kento’s tongue swirled on your hardened nipple, making you arch your back, pressing your chest even closer to his. Your fingers gripped his hair, as you were lost in the sugary pleasure his mouth was giving you. Nanami hummed as he sucked on your sensitive nipples one by one, earning a hoarse moan from you.

“Gonna finger you, hm?” He murmured, sucking in between your breasts, making sure to leave a purple mark. That was only the beginning.

“No, no'', you panted; Kento looked at you, eyes clouded with lust. “Want you inside, Ken, please”. You leaned in to press his lips back to yours in a heated kiss. “Baby, please”, your brain was already half-working as you could only beg for him to put this distance between you to a halt.

“Whatever you want, princess”, he breathed out in your mouth, tongue running along your neck as you grabbed his shoulders. He brought your gaze back to his face when he watched you draw your lower lip between your teeth as he pumped himself before lining at your entrance. “Sure you’re ready?”

You started nodding frantically, hands back to cupping his cheeks. “I fin-, mhm” you closed your eyes when he ran the tip of his cock along your slick folds, “I fingered myself before you came home. Really, really”, you arched your back again as Nanami pressed his thumb on your clit, “I’m really ready, baby”.

“Anything for you”, he lowered his head to meet your lips in a sloppy kiss one more time before he slipped the tip inside. Earning a tiny gasp from you, Nanami buried his head in the crook of your neck. He could’ve come right then and there, when your plushy walls devoured the tip of his dick; to be fair, a mere sight of your begging for him was enough for him to cum without even touching you. “I love you so much”, his voice, thick with lust and desire, reached the deepest parts of you, bringing you to a hazy state of mind. 

Nanami pushed his thick cock inside you slowly, languidly, his mind absorbing in every whimper and mewl that was leaving your peachy lips. His girl, so desperate for him, so ready, so wet — his, his and his only. His first love, the love of his life, his fiancée, his future wife, his entire existence wrapped in the most desirable woman in the whole galaxy. “I love you”, your hungry kisses were followed by him bottoming out completely, “Ken, I love you so much”. 

Oh, darling, he thought, fingers gripping your waist, how I love you. He was moving, his cock slowly ravishing your dripping cunt. He grunted as he saw your finger creep up to your pulsating bundle of nerves; brushing your hand off, Nanami replaced it with his thumb. 

“You wanna cum already?” He chuckled under his breath while drawing painfully slow circles on your clit. “Hope you’d do it a bit later”, your quivering body gave him exactly what he wanted: you gripping the sheets as you gasped for air, lost in pleasure.

“Kento!” A smack on the shoulder slapped Nanami back into reality. Oh no. He was in front of his computer, gray office walls dawning on his already somber world. He was daydreaming again. “Wanna go for a smoke?” His colleague said quietly; Nanami nodded, taking the cigarette pack out of the bag and following the man to the elevator. A couple of more people joined them on the way; Kento kept up with the conversation absentmindedly while the elevator was going to the first floor.

Ah, it was raining again. Standing under the roof in the designated smoking area, Kento’s thoughts flew to your nagging whenever the rain started. Despite having to deal with downpours constantly due to the country’s weather, you still found yourself cursing whenever a drop of rain hit the ground. Nanami laughed at your screwed face, leaving a sweet kiss on your cheek to soften your expression. He loved your sulky days, and he loved your sunny shy smile whenever he’d made you happier in your greyest mood. Was it also raining in Tokyo? Were you whining while sitting behind your desk at school? Did you take the umbrella with you in the morning? Or you forgot it as you usually did? 

He could’ve just taken the phone from his pocket and called you. He could’ve just asked. Like, was it hard? 

It was, actually. He was the one to leave you, the one to abandon the love the two of you had been building for over a decade — just because he got scared. Scared to death, frankly speaking. He knew he could live his life not being a jujutsu sorcerer, but… Could he drag you along with him? Could he allow his selfishness and fear to draw you away from your friends, students, your life? Of course, you were on the same page about stopping doing this job once you two finally settled down, but were you really ready to do that? 

“I-I” You stuttered under his piercing gaze. “Right now?”

“Right now”. He repeated. “Either we leave right now or we never do it”.

“Ken, I…” You thought trailed off as you sighed loudly. “I didn’t even… I never thought it would be… So fast. I still need time to think”.

He took it too personally, now he understands that. You weren’t rejecting his offer, on the contrary actually: you were ready to go to the end of the world with him, follow him to the darkest depths of Hell — but he didn’t want you to think it over more than you did. The Jujutsu world was dangerous and he was tired of losing people and harming innocents. He gave it up once, easily; however, you couldn’t. And now, six months later, Nanami has finally realized it.

“What a moron”, he mumbled, throwing the cigarette into the bin. Leaving all his life behind and for what? For the mirage of peace? For the misery he covered with indifference? Being a sorcerer goes along with loss, principal Yaga once told him, if you manage to get used to it, it’ll be easier, Kento. Because, no matter how hard it is, loss is not the only thing this life gives you.

“Hey, Nanami”, his colleague took a cigarette from his pack, “y’know that Haruka from the marketing team likes you, right?”

“So what?” Kento stared the man down; he saw Haruko almost every day and certainly noticed her cheeks turn bright color red whenever he spoke to her. Whatever. She wasn’t the one Kento’s mind was focused on; no one could replace the girl with pigtails, who would give him a timid kiss on the cheek before every class. The girl he fell in love with, running to her at any moment given, and the woman who he left behind several months ago, running from her to an unknown, dark future. At least, there’s no more loss, he’d gaslight himself, at least, no one’s suffering because of me. He hoped you grew to hate him now; he hoped you didn’t cry yourself to sleep because he abandoned you. He hoped for that, but he was perfectly aware of it not being true.

“She’s really hot, though”, the man noticed, “you’d better do something before someone else snatches her”.

“I don’t care”. Nanami sighed and headed back to the office. That was true; the only woman he cared about was five hundred kilometers away, taking the subway to work, running around the school, teaching kids her techniques and protecting them on missions, throwing herself in front of danger — just to save everyone she loved. 

Would you take him back if he flew back to Tokyo and showed up at your shared apartment? If he were you, he wouldn’t. If he were you, he’d beat himself to death, throw punches with his cursed technique, but he wouldn’t take himself back. You didn’t deserve the mess he’d created, thinking he was the most righteous man on Earth, you didn’t deserve the pain he’d inflicted on you by leaving, abruptly, a small note on the kitchen counter replacing his words. He was a coward. And you didn’t need to welcome a coward like him back with open arms. 

Nanami Kento wasn’t a man of his word, this is an undeniable fact. Because if he truly was then he wouldn’t have ever left the woman he promised to stay with forever.

the next part (will be uploaded soon)

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 1: How The Fuck Did I Get Here?

I don't know exactly what I'm going to be doing with all these posts, but at a minimum, we will be having the following, not necessarily in this order:

A discussion of some of the parts of Worm I liked most. Some genuine and well-earned praise for Wildbow.

An analysis of Amy Dallon as she exists in Worm, though more for unpacking my own thoughts in one place rather than some deep literary stuff.

A discussion of things I was genuinely surprised by in the Text itself versus the stuff I picked up via fandom osmosis and fanfic. Expectation vs reality and stuff.

A discussion of just who the fuck the target audience of Worm actually probably maybe was, and what the fuck I just read.

And a detailed (for my own unpacking of thoughts than to convince anyone of anything) discussion of why I'm not going to read Ward. Nothing new there, but still, it'll be nice to put it all one one place.

But first, let's take a step back and answer one very important question: How in the bloody fuck did I end up here? How the fuck did reading Worm even happen? Because as I've said before, superhero media isn't my thing, I'm definitely not the target audience for Worm, and while I enjoyed it, only liking it 60% is a barely passing grade, as it were.

So how the blue hell did I end up here?

I don't know exactly when I first became aware of Worm. What I do know is that I was loosely aware of it by 2019, because I was active on SpaceBattles, and of course, Worm is all over there. I'd see the name, and I knew it referred to a work of fiction, but that's about all I knew. It might have been before 2019 that I first heard the name, it might not have. I say by 2019, because I know that sometime in 2019, I was in a discord server associated with one of the many spinoff sites to Spacebattles (I believe it was Frozen in Carbonite, which was honestly a pretty noxious website but I didn't know that going in) and I made a post using this meme:

And I got an answer that was something to the effect of 'It's an edgy villain protagonist superhero story'. And so I shrugged, and I moved on. Not my speed. Superheroes aren't my thing, not really, not in of themselves. I first got into AoS watching it with my then GF back in... 2015? And then I got into shipping Skyeward in it. Then I watched Arrow because some of the people I followed from Skyeward were into it and again, pretty much stayed for the shipping and certain characters. Flash and Legends of Tomorrow and Supergirl were entered into as branching off from Arrow.

And yes I've watched a good chunk of the MCU, but mostly because why not watch a movie and there's a handful of characters I liked. But I've never read a single superhero comic book, as far as I can recall, and I've never really been super into any superhero cartoons, just watched them if they happened to be on Cartoon Network when I was a kid.

At some point between then and this year, I found a Worm CYOA on r/nsfwcyoa, and despite never having read it, gave it a look, played around with it, and picked up random errant facts about the story and characters therein. I would revisit this CYOA and similar ones as they got updates, and along the way got my first exposure to the whole 'fanon' problem of the Worm fandom, when one of the options in one of the CYOAs was to make certain popular fanon true for the version of Earth-Bet 'your character' appeared in for the CYOA. Things like making Woobie Amy true, or turning Vicky into the Collateral Damage Barbie she's cast as by some people, et cetera.

And then, at some point probably late last year or early this year, I think, I was on Questionable Questing (the pervert uncle of Spacebattles, as it were) and I saw a fic get posted that was Worm - so, prepared to ignore it - and then I saw it was also tagged with several of my kinks. And I've read smutfics that aren't for one of my fandoms if I really like the kinks and it's just a smutfic, so I gave it a show. How much do you need to know about the source canon for a smutfic, eh?

I don't remember much about that fic, or even which of my kinks in particular it had, but I would read a few other such stories here and there until sometime in... probably May or so, maybe late April, when I made an errant post on QQ in a thread discussing stories you considered but never actually read, that I had considered Worm (because by then I had, ish, after some of the various go-arounds with the CYOA and picking up bits of osmosis here and there) but that the whole thing sounded too bleak and grimdark and depressing.

This spawned a conversation about Worm, and if it was really grimdark (one person I think went so far as to say it wasn't even depressing or bleak, and oh to live in that person's world) and if it was really a deconstruction or a love letter to superhero media or a takedown of superhero media or w/e. And at some point, someone made a comment about Wildbow having disdain for his fans, or something like that.

And I was like 'I feel like there's a story there'. And yes there was. One of the things that came up were the so-called 'retcons' of Ward re: Amy (whether or not they are actually retcons is beyond the point of this post, please don't discuss it here). And here's the thing, my thought then was: I've been there.

I've been there when characters have been set on, or are seemingly being set up for, some kind of redemption arc, and then some new installment pulls the rug out from under the character in a way that feels very, very deliberately aimed at fans of the character. Grant Ward is the most notable case of this for me. 2015 and 2016 me had quite a few things to say about that. 2024 me lacks the energy or desire to go into detail.

It's not fun, either way. So I sympathized. And I figured that probably meant Amy Dallon would be my sort of character. But I didn't want to read Worm - it sounded depressing, it was 1.6 million words, Taylor didn't sound super appealing and I knew she was the main POV, and superheroes aren't my thing.

But it wouldn't leave my head. So I started poking around on places like r/parahumans (a den of bad takes and noxious fans if there ever was one) and r/WormFanfic and the Parahumans wiki and looked through a few threads on SB and started trawling the Amy Dallon tag here on Tumblr and developed some thoughts.

Amy Dallon, and the injustice of what happened to her in Ward had crawled inside my head and it wasn't going anywhere. I ranted to my friends about all the shit I'd learned and was like 'I HAVEN'T EVEN READ THIS WORK AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I WANT TO AND IT JUST WON'T LEAVE MY BRAIN!'. I remember seeing a post saying something about how someone who had read worm couldn't relate to people who hadn't and weren't constantly thinking about Amy and I reblogged it saying 'I haven't even read Worm and I'm constantly thinking about Amy' and I think the OP of the post reblogged my reblog and called me a whole new kind of person or something. I don't remember and don't care to go digging.

The things that held me back the most continued to be the sheer length of Worm, a fear that Taylor would be insufferable and the fact that it still sounded godforsakenly depressing. (2 out of 3 ain't bad, as Meatloaf Says). So eventually I decided to go poking around and read some fic to get the idea if I'd actually read it. I don't remember all the ones I read in this period, but they included: I, Panacea, Desperate Times Call For Desperate Pleasures, Queen of Blood and More Than Meets The Eye. It was around this time I also started getting multiple Worm Fic Ideas, which was... fun. Because you know, it's one thing to read fanfic without knowing the source canon, but I've always loathed in previous fandoms when people say they're writing a fic for a canon they've only read fic from (and was always an immediate X-out for me) and I have too much dignity self-respect as a writer to do that myself.

Now, fic ideas don't mean I have to write them. I have ASOIAF and TVD fic Ideas I'm never going to write, and my notebooks across the ages are littered with fic Ideas I had and then put aside and never wrote. Some still haunt my dreams like Edgar Allen Poe's Telltale Heart. But still.

Eventually, after someone made a comment to me to the effect of 'with all due respect, if you haven't read Worm, shut up about it' I decided to at least make an effort to read it. Spite was my original intent - I wanted to see if my opinion about Amy's storyline in Worm specifically would remain the same (and it broadly has) and if so, I would feel satisfied I'd been right.

(For the record, It did remain the same (pretty much, more on this in a future post) and I do feel satisfied that I was right.)

And so, on June 16th, half on a whim and half because I knew I'd have things to say and I wanted to section them off my main blog, I made this blog and began reading Gestation 1.1. I gave it even odds in my head I'd give up before I was more than a few arcs in.

Wasn't even tempted until Arcs 12 and 13. Then was tempted again in the absolute nadir of the work, 17-19. And then again during the Behemoth fight. Once I got past that, I was never temped.

So that's I got here. Existing adjacent to Worm for years, some osmosis, an ill-timed comment, some snarky responses and a character that burrows into my brain by hitting all of my buttons.

[finnsbubblegum]

I Don’t Deserve You {Part 2} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, protective joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s), stalking, sexual assault attempt (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.

Words count: 2.9k 

A/N: This is part 2 for I Don’t Deserve You Part 1. Thank you to everyone who read my fanfic! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

It was a usual Monday after the night Joel saved you from Josh. You woke up early and got ready to work and meet your students. 

“Good morning, kids! How was your weekend?” You asked the students with a soft tone.

“I watched a movie with my dad last night!” A girl shouted.

“It was my birthday yesterday!” Another girl shouted.

They were active and you were always happy to listen to their stories. Their stories were always interesting to you. You loved how children were so pure and innocent. 

“Oh really? Well, happy birthday to you! Why don’t we all sing happy birthday to Samantha?” 

You invited the other students to sing the Happy Birthday song for Samantha. Each of the students followed your clap and sang the Happy Birthday song together. The day went and it was already time for the class to be dismissed. 

“Okay everyone! Class is dismissed! Don’t forget to do your homework!”

Everyone was packing their bags hurriedly and you glanced at the door. The door had a rectangle transparent glass and you saw Joel. When he caught your eye, he quickly hid. You found him so cute and felt butterflies in your stomach. It felt like you were in your teenage years all over again. You shook your head and smiled. The kids were starting to leave one by one and you began to pack your stuff on the table. 

“I saw you there Joel.” You teased Joel who was still hiding.

“Uhm.. Sorry.” He slowly walked inside the class and cleared his throat.

“You caught me.” He smiled shyly and put his hand on the nape of his neck.

“Are you stalking me now?” You joked.

“Absolutely not. I was just around and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re teaching the kids. Hope you didn’t teach them curse words.” He joked remembering his last joke at the bar that was cut off by Josh’s appearance.

“Of course not.” You scoffed and slightly hit his chest. 

“Are you heading home now?” Joel put his hands on his waist.

“Yes, all the kids have gone home so I should go home now.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Joel gestured a movement from his hands as if he was asking you to follow him.

“Sure. Thank you.” You grabbed your purse and jacket.

Joel wasn’t actually around the area. He was not patrolling that day and couldn’t keep thinking about last night. He was worried that Josh might come to you and bother you again. After thinking about it for a few hours, he decided to visit you at school and walk you home. He thought that it was the least thing he could do to protect you. Without realizing it, he was starting to have feelings towards you. 

“Do you want to come in and have dinner with me tonight? I can cook something for us.” You hoped Joel would say yes before you got in your house.

“Sure. Ellie is making friends now so she often stays out late.” 

“Great. Come in.” You welcomed Joel.

You hung your jacket and Joel did the same. 

“Please make yourself at home while I cook dinner.” You smiled at Joel.

Joel nodded and sat on the sofa in your living room. You walked to your kitchen, opened your fridge and took out some ingredients. 

“Can I help you with somethin’?” Joel suddenly stood up and walked towards you.

“No, no. I’m good. Let me serve you dinner tonight.” Joel was your guest so you wanted to serve him.

“Okay.” Joel walked away and started to look around your house.

“You have a lot of books.” Joel stopped at your bookshelf.

“Oh, yes. I love to read. I’m a teacher.” You laughed.

“Right.” Joel chuckled.

After a few moments of banter while you were preparing dinner, you were finally done.

“Dinner’s ready.” You called for Joel.

He looked back from the sofa and hurried his way to the dining table.

“Smells good.” He sniffed.

You both started eating. You were nervous because you were scared Joel might not like your cooking. And your legs were shaking under the table.

“Hmm.. It’s delicious. Thank you.” Joel praised your food.

“Phew.. I was scared you didn’t like it.” You sighed.

“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve ever had in the past 20 years.” He chuckled as he shoved another spoonful of your cooking.

“Thank you, Joel. You’re really sweet.” You were touched hearing his words.

The two of you had conversations as you finished your dinner. 

“Let me wash the dishes. You cooked so I will wash the dishes.” Joel offered.

“Sure.” You gave your dishes to Joel.

You watched him from behind and got lost in your fantasy. You were imagining a life where you and Joel lived under the same roof as family. And you were the wife making dinner for your husband when he got off from work. He looked dashing from behind and his shoulder was broad. You imagined how it would feel kissing him. But you didn’t want to rush so you had to hold yourself. You hit your head and got back to reality. 

“Done.” Joel wiped his hands with a towel.

“Thank you, Joel. For washing the dishes.” 

“It’s nothin’. You cooked for me so it’s fair if I wash the dishes.” He shook his head.

You wondered how a man like him treated you so nice. You kept wondering why he didn’t come into your life sooner. Then you remembered why. You were half his age. But you didn’t care. As long as he made you happy, you didn’t care about anything.

You and Joel spent a few hours hanging out at your house then it was time for him to go home.

“I should probably head home.” Joel looked at you.

“Yeah, sure. Thank you for walking me home today.”

“Anytime. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.” Joel thanked you.

You chuckled as you walked him to your door and grabbed his jacket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” You waved your hand goodbye to Joel.

The next day, Joel came and picked you up from work. He walked you home and had dinner with you for the second day, third day, fourth day, and it went on and on. Except when it was his turn to go on patrol, he couldn’t walk you home. But he would always tell you in advance if he couldn’t walk you home. 

Joel and you often hung out in the city as well. Since you got close with Joel, Josh had never shown up. He just stared at you from afar but he had never approached you. You even had less guys flirting with you. As time went by, people were starting to recognize your relationship with him. People were making rumors and talking about you and Joel. They were talking about how far your age gap was and how Joel didn’t deserve you. He was old and ruthless but you were young and kind. You didn’t care what anyone said. Joel had never hurt you, he was always respectful, he was definitely not like what other people said. As a matter of fact, Joel had never been kind to anyone but you. 

Your feelings towards Joel have grown deeper and deeper. On the other side, you had no idea how Joel felt towards you. Did he like you or did he just see you as a kid who needed protection? But you didn’t want this to end so you kept your feelings hidden until it was 2 months since you and Joel spent time together. You couldn’t hold your feelings hidden any longer.

It was another usual dinner with Joel. You watched him as he was walking outside your front porch. 

“Joel.” You stopped him before he walked his way home.

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows and looked back.

“Can I ask you something?” You wiped your sweaty hands to your jeans.

“Sure. What is it?” He walked his way back to your porch where you were standing, resting his hands on the handrail.

“What are we, Joel? I mean - I - I like you, Joel.” You confessed your feelings to Joel and stepped closer to him.

Instead of telling you the way he felt about you, he took a step back. 

“No.” His voice was really low, he shook his head and looked down.

Your eyes were getting blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel quickly walked away from you.

“Joel.. Please..” You tried to stop him but you thought it was better to stay.

You were heartbroken. You went to your bedroom, covered your face with your pillow and cried all night.

On his way home, Joel was also heartbroken. He couldn’t see you cry like that, especially because of him. He regretted leaving you hanging like that. He wished he could hug you and comfort you. But he knew he shouldn’t. He had heard the rumors and he agreed to what people were saying. He regretted treating you nice if it would end up breaking your heart. He shouldn’t give you hope in the first place. Since then, Joel started avoiding you. He didn’t walk you home and didn’t have dinner with you. You and Joel ended just like that.

You hadn’t seen Joel since. Your days went so slow. Days felt weeks, weeks felt months, months felt years. It has been a month and you hated this feeling. You wanted closure so you decided to find Joel. You walked to his house and knocked on his door.

“Hi!” It was Ellie.

“Uhm.. Hi! Is Joel home?” You asked Ellie.

“Yeah! Joel! Someone’s here looking for you!” Ellie shouted and called Joel.

Joel made his way down stairs and his eyes widened when he saw you at his front door.

“We need to talk, please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel gestured to Ellie to go, he closed the door and invited you to sit on the patio chairs at his front porch.

You sat with him but he didn’t say anything. So you started the conversation.

“Did I do something wrong, Joel?” You tried to find what was wrong to fix your relationship with him.

“No.” He replied coldly.

“It’s okay. Just tell me, Joel. Let me fix us.” You begged him.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” Joel wanted the best for you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. What do you mean?” You were confused.

“I know you heard about the rumors. They were right. I don’t deserve you. I’m old. I’ve done bad things. I’ve killed people. And you’re young, beautiful…inside out, kind, perfect and everythin’. You deserve someone way better than me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started anythin’ with you. I realized I was crossin’ the line, that's why it’s better that I stopped before I hurt you more.” Joel put his elbow on his knees as he explained to you.

“That’s not right. I don’t care what people say, Joel. You treated me so nice. You’ve never hurt me. You protect me, Joel.” You shook your head in denial.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve you.” Joel started to raise his voice.

“No, Joel. Please. Give me a chance. I can’t live without you. Please. Give us a chance.” You cried as you begged him.

Joel wanted to cry but he held it. He didn’t want to look weak. Instead he stood up and asked you to leave. 

“I promise I won’t see you again.” Joel’s words made your heart even wretched.

“Joel, please..don’t..Can you at least give me a hug as a goodbye? Please?” You grabbed his wrist.

Joel wanted to hug you. He really did. But it would just make him change his mind. If he hugged you, he might not be able to let you go. So he let go of your hand and walked inside his house. You cried so loud and kneeled in front of his door. Hoping for Joel to come out and change his mind, but a few hours went by and he didn’t appear. You were getting hopeless so you decided to go home. You cried on your walk and you didn’t realize someone was following you. You grabbed your keys and went inside your house. Someone was holding your door before you closed it. 

“Joel?” You hoped Joel was following you home.

“Nuh-uh baby. It’s me. Josh.” Josh smirked.

You gasped and started to shake. 

“Wh-what are you do-doing?” Josh could hear you were scared.

“I told you that old man is no good, baby. You should have been with me in the first place. I wouldn’t make you cry. I’m way better than him. That old man knows it. He really doesn’t deserve you. But I deserve you.” It turned out that Josh had been stalking you and he was eavesdropping your conversation with Joel.

“No. Josh. Please get out of my house.” You tried to act like you were not scared but he could see you were shaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re mine now.” Josh claimed you as his because he knew Joel wouldn’t be there to protect you from him anymore.

“No, please go.” You walked backwards as he slowly walked towards you.

On the other side, Joel kept thinking about what he had said to you. He knew it was for the best but somehow he felt something weird in his heart. He guessed maybe he should have hugged you goodbye. He didn’t hear your cries anymore so he decided to walk to your house. He saw your door was left open and he heard a loud thud and your scream. Joel’s heart was beating faster as he rushed inside your house.

“Stay still!” Josh was on top of you, holding your hands, trying to take off your pants.

“Josh, stop it!” You tried to push Josh away but he was too heavy.

Joel’s eyes widened as he was shocked to see what was happening. He ran towards you, grabbed Josh from behind and threw him aside. Josh was hurting laying on the floor. Joel’s eyes locked on Josh and punched him over and over again. Josh’s face was full of blood and he was begging for Joel to stop. 

“Don’t you ever touch her again! You lay a hand on her again, I’ll break your arm!” Joel lifted Josh by his collar and yelled at his face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Josh begged Joel for his life.

“Now get the fuck out of this house and never show your face again!” Joel pointed his finger towards the door as he raised his voice again.

Joel closed the door after Josh crawled his way out of your house. You were in shock, crying, hyperventilating, shaking, and holding your ripped shirt to cover yourself. You had never seen Joel like this before. He was scary when he was angry just like what other people in the town talked about.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice was different from seconds ago.

He sounded very soft. He took off his jacket and put it on you. 

“I got you, babygirl. I got you.” He looked at you with worried eyes. (TLOU ep 8 reference 😘)

He wiped your tears with his thumb and hugged you. His hands rubbed your back in circles until your breathing was normal again. 

“Can you stand?” He asked you.

You nodded and guided him to your bedroom. He kept holding your arm, holding your weight as you walked. You opened your closet to get new clothes and changed into a new one. Joel faced the wall as you changed your clothes. He was always respectful to you. Not like the other guys you had met.

“Here.” You gave Joel his jacket back.

“Do you want me to stay?” He thought he would stay for the night to make sure you were safe.

“Will you?” You asked Joel with your puppy eyes as you sat on the bed.

“Of course, darlin’. I don’t want Josh to come here again and hurt you.” Joel walked to your bedroom door.

“Where are you going? I thought you’re staying.” You were confused.

“I am. I’m sleepin’ on the couch.” 

You chuckled. Everytime he did or said something, you fell in love with him more.

“Joel, stay here.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed.

“No. I shouldn’t.” He still kept his chivalry.

“Joel, please. I don’t think I can sleep if you’re not next to me. I feel safe when I’m with you. Please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel shyly moved his way to your bed and laid beside you.

You moved closer to him, put your head on his chest, and rested your hands on his stomach. You could hear his heart beating faster and his body was stiff because of your movements. Joel took a deep breath and put his arms around you. He rubbed your back in circles.

“I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you. But can I get that chance for our relationship? Give me a chance to be better for you?” He rested his chin on your head.

“You should stop being insecure, Joel. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. All the guys who flirted with me.. They weren't like you. I know for a fact they only want to get in my pants. But you’re different. Am I right?” You caressed his chest.

“No. You’re wrong.” You were shocked by his joke and raised your head to face him.

“I’m joking. Relax.” He laughed.

“Don’t ever do that again.” You put your head back to his chest and hit his chest.

“Oh! You’re bleeding! We need to get your fist cleaned up!” You took his hands worriedly.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve been worse.” Joel chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“Okay, then.” You kissed his bleeding fist that saved you from Josh. 

The two of you spent the night cuddling, talking and getting to know each other. Joel told you about his past, Sarah, and Ellie as you drift into your sleep. 

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[snotty-zombie]

Rageous-tober part 3!!

Day 19: Velchid

Day 21: Vampire

Day 26: Orchid

More under the cut 😉

Day 19: Velchid

This kinda marks the spot where I started doing more and more for each entry and making life so much more difficult for myself haha I started like adding extra little bits beside the main piece just for fun which made the pressure of posting on time a lot tougher (I eventually said fuck it and just posted them late cuz who gives af haha)

I honestly love drawing full bodies of Rhinestone because she wears such bright clothing and accessories all covered in stickers and charms (her miku keychain is based off of one I own myself reeheehee) and she’s always pulling a funny face

Stark contrast to Velvet with her neat pearl jewellery and tidy hair and delicate acrylic nails. I try to make each part of her outfit somewhat matching and colour coordinated because I feel like her and Veneer are so anal retentive about that sort of thing like they FREAK if something is like slightly off like their shoes and top are different shades of black or whatever- exhibit A, Velvet’s witch costume which is all matching colours as well as her lovely nails and ring

Then there on the bonus pics is Vels tormenting the smelly boys as well as some Velstone angst, they’ll be ok

Day 21: vampire 🧛‍♂️ 🦇 🩸

QUITE PROUD OF THIS ONE, would you believe me if I said I finished it back in mid September because I was so excited for Halloween? I didn’t know I was going to be doing an inktober event this year so when I saw the vampire prompt I shoved this in a box to wait until then to post it

Veneer couldn’t decide between being a cowboy or a vampire for Halloween so he had the genius idea of combining both into one costume… a vampire cowboy! Cowboy vampire- either works. Veneer gives me HUGE vampire energy, just the inherent cuntyness of a vampire mixed with Veneer’s annoying teenage sass is chefs kiss- plus he’s as pale as a vampire anyway so no need for makeup

And his smelly hairy werewolf bf that he can drag along with his lasso and order to bite people

Day 26: Orchid Rhinestone!

Kidding the prompt was Orchid but it was referring to the same Rageon so

This is a really big one haha it was just an excuse to vomit some of my Rhinestone headcannons onto a page and it was sooooo fun

Starting off at the top, she’s a big video game person, only things she spends her hard earned cash on are video games and cosplay materials but she’ll never admit it.

Secret Easter egg moment there of her and Veneer from Jobiesayscheese’s fanfic (my favourite ever fyi, you should totes read it), the girls who know, know.

Sea urchin Rhinestone appearance! Will definitely be seeing more of her because I’m so proud of my furry designs for them all haha omfg, she makes rattling sounds when she moves, particularly when her spines aren’t tied back- I’m sure you can imagine the sound they make, sort of like hollow bamboo being clinked together mixed with jewellery tinkling

AND HER COSPLAY YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE (another ten points if you can name all the cosplays) she’s as hands on as it gets, nothing is bought, everything is hand sewn and glued and all that, she does everything by hand with her own patterns (most of the time), she even managed to convince Velvet to let her make a costume for her one time so they could have a couples cosplay. She also does literally every kind of craft out there and is always knitting or crocheting something for her friends or gf to wear like a cute jumper or a warm winter hat (she’s a giver) or felting holiday decorations as gifts :3c

Part 1! Part 2! Part 3! Part 4!

[ninjadeathblade]

Nachos (a Nimona fanfic)

Summary: Nimona tags along on Ballister's nacho date with Ambrosius (set post-movie)

Warnings: A couple swears and that's about it

Word count: 1,050

Fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Author notes: Thanks you to @skating-is-cool for scheming with me on my other post about this. I didn't put loads of effort into this if I'm honest but I let the boys finally have their nachos together.

"You promise to behave?" Ballister asked nervously, refusing to go inside until Nimona agreed. The shapeshifter had been begging to come along with him to his date with Ambrosius. Ballister had reluctantly agreed, knowing that if he'd told her no she would've snuck along anyway. Nimona shrugged, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"I dunno. Maybe." She shot him a grin full of fangs, almost falling over before catching her balance again and leaning forward onto her tiptoes.

"Nimona, please," Ballister sighed, exasperation clawing at the inside of his skull as he brought a hand to his face to rub across his eyes. "This is the first time since…everything that me and Ambrosius have actually been able to go on a date." Ballister struggled to articulate it to her. Mentally, he understood that Nimona was over a thousand years old and had probably seen many people be in love. But he also had latched onto her as some kind of younger sibling or daughter to him, which meant he had to explain everything. "Because we've left the army now, I don't have to hide who I am as much. You should understand that."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Nimona replied, flashing him another smile. "C'mon then, let's go see your boyfriend." Ballister made to grab her shoulder before she headed into the bar but she weaved away from him, slipping through the door into the bar. Ballister gritted his teeth before following Nimona, a certain air of anxiety around him. He knew that Ambrosius still loved him, that hadn't changed. But would it be awkward? The last time they were here Ambrosius was trying to convince him to kill Nimona. Ballister mulled over his thoughts as he followed Nimona through the bar, not paying much attention to his surroundings.

"Hey handsome." Ballister jerked out of his thoughts at Ambrosius' voice, looking down at his lover. Ambrosius smiled softly up at him, moving over in the booth seat to make room for him. Ballister shot him a shy smile in return, sitting down beside him while Nimona took the seat across from him.

"You're sure you don't mind she's here?" Ballister whispered, resting his head on Ambrosius' shoulder.

"She's family, it's not like she wouldn't be here," Ambrosius responded, pressing a light kiss to the top of Ballister's head. Ballister closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of safety. It hadn't been long since the queen had died but it felt like years of being on edge constantly.

"You know I can hear you two, right?" Nimona butted into the conversation and Ballister opened his eyes again, regarding her with a deadpan stare.

"You know you could let us be romantic together every now and then?" He retorted, earning a snort of laughter from Ambrosius. Nimona stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention to something over his shoulder. She transformed into a mouse, scuttling across the table.

"Be back soon." Ballister sighed with relief, visibly sagging in his seat. As much as he loved Nimona, it did feel more than a little weird having her third-wheeling on his date. After all, she was like a daughter to him. And although he wanted to spend time with her, it felt strange to have her on his date with Ambrosius.

"May I get you anything sirs?" A waitress appeared almost out of thin air beside them.

"Nachos," the two of them said in unison.

"No olives. He's allergic," Ballister added, jerking a thumb at Ambrosius. The waitress nodded, walking away.

"You always have to specify, don't you?" Ambrosius teased, playfully poking Ballister in the side. Ballister laughed quietly, wrapping his prosthetic arm around Ambrosius' waist.

"I can't have you dying. Who would continue the Gloreth bloodline?" Ballister joked with a gentle squeeze to Ambrosius' hip. Ambrosius practically doubled over with laughter, banging his fist on the table a couple of times.

"Shit, Bal, you think I'd actually continue the bloodline?" Ambrosius questioned, eyes slightly teary from laughter as he looked up at Ballister. "The closest thing to a child that anyone is getting from me is Nimona. We are adopting her, right? I mean, I get she's technically older than us but she's still a child, you know?" Ballister placed a gentle kiss against Ambrosius' cheek.

"Yeah, if she's fine with it. I haven't asked her yet," Ballister told him, withdrawing his hand from its position around his lover, fidgeting with his hands under the table. The two of them fell into silence, something that had rarely happened in the time they'd known one another. The waitress returned, placing their bowls of nachos on the table and Ballister didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry." Ambrosius broke the silence. Ballister glanced towards him, noticing the tear tracks down his cheeks. He was honestly unsure if they were from laughter or not. "I'm so sorry I didn't trust you. Or Nimona." Ballister placed his hand over Ambrosius', the dark metal contrasting against his light skin. "I didn't even try to listen to you when you explained."

"It's not your fault," Ballister assured him.

"But it is. If I'd listened, if I'd tried to help then maybe it wouldn't have turned out this way." Ambrosius skimmed his thumb across the back of Ballister's hand. "If I could then I'd change it all." Ballister brushed the tears away from Ambrosius' eyes, turning in his seat to face him.

"But if that happened then we wouldn't have our family," Ballister pointed out, pulling Ambrosius into a hug. The two of them sat there in the booth for a while, feeling grateful that despite everything they still had one another.

"These nachos are delicious, I see why you both keep coming back here." Ballister pulled away from Ambrosius slightly, glaring at Nimona. She was lying slightly across the other side of the booth, a bowl of nachos in her hands as she ate some of them.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ballister swore. "Can you not see we're having a moment?"

"Yes. And I'm having nachos," Nimona replied, biting into another one. Ambrosius pressed a kiss against Ballister's temple.

"Leave her be. It's fine," Ambrosius said. Ballister smiled softly, pulling the second bowl of nachos towards him and his love.

"Yeah. It couldn't be better."