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wanders-in-wonderland · 6 months ago

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Don't Move

*Loosely inspired by the new Netflix movie Don’t Move but I haven’t actually watched it and only saw clips and read the synopsis.

I never should have parked so far from the grocery store. I’d stopped to grab a few items for dinner on my way home from work and parked in the last row, wanting to give myself an opportunity to walk a little extra to the store and stretch my legs after sitting at a computer desk all day, especially since today was an uncharacteristically sunny fall day. When I finish shopping and come back out to my car, I vaguely take note of another car parked next to me.

Weird, considering half the lot was empty but who am I to judge, I’m not the parking police. I roll my cart to my car, unload my shopping bags, and return the cart before rounding my car to get in and leave. That’s when I realize that the car next to me parked absurdly close to mine.

I silently judge the distance and decide that maybe I can squeeze myself into my driver side door without dinging his door or mine so I step in the space between the two vehicles. As soon as I pull open my door, I can tell that my plan won’t work. I huff out a little laugh and decide to just crawl in through the passenger side when I hear the car door slam from behind.

“Sorry!” An embarrassed sounding male voice sounds. “I totally misjudged the distance and parked a little too close.”

I turn to see a tall man stride around what I assume is his car that he was sitting in, coming towards me. I smile back at him, “No worries, it happens to the best of us. I can just crawl in through the other side.”

His eyes crinkle in a kind smile and he raises one hand to run through his hair bashfully. I realize that he’s really attractive, the kind of boy-next-door attractive that makes you feel at ease. He’s closed the distance between us and stands near the back bumper of both our cars, his frame filling the space and effectively trapping me in.

“No, don’t, I can move my car, just give me a sec,” he says, giving a wry chuckle. I glance down at his other hand and see him holding an umbrella. I raise an eyebrow, gesturing towards it with my chin, “Expecting rain?”

He looks down as if he’s surprised to see the umbrella in his hand, “Oh! This! Well, you can never be too prepared, right?” He shrugs lightly and takes another step into my space.

“Plus, it’s really useful for times like this,” he says before clicking a button on the handle that makes the tip light up with electricity. His umbrella is a stun gun in disguise. Before I can react, he jabs it into my side and I let out a strangled yelp as sharp pain floods my body and I crumple.

He catches me and the last thing I see before my vision goes black is his handsome face twisted in a dark, menacing smile.

—

The rhythmic jostling of a car wakes me up and I found myself laid out across the backseat of a car with my arms tied behind my back and my legs tied together at my ankles. I let out a soft whine, my body aching as I slowly clear my head.

My eyes dart around the car and I see him driving. He tilts the rearview mirror down so we can see each other and he flashes me a charming smile.

“Good morning. Sleep well?” His voice is teasing, as if we were lovers, waking up in bed together and not a deranged kidnapper and his prey.

“What the fuck? Let me go!” I thrash against my restraints but he’s also strapped me into the seatbelts and made it impossible for me to get free.

He smiles, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

I feel the car turn and from my limited view out the windows, I see him turn us from a main road onto a smaller path that seems to lead into the forest. Fear starts to overtake my every emotion.

“Where are you taking me? Are you going to kill me?” I say, my voice cracking.

He laughs in response but doesn’t deign to give me a verbal response. Before I can muster up the courage to ask more, the car comes to a stop and he steps out before opening the door by my feet.

With a strong grip, he hauls me out of the car and I stumble out, legs unsteady and uncoordinated from being bound together. “Please, please, let me go!” I beg him, my heart in my throat.

He grins at me, “Let’s play a game. I’ll give you an opportunity to run, and if you out-run me, I’ll let you go.” I gasp, staring at him, waiting for the catch. He reaches behind me and with a swift motion, unties my arms. He leans down and does the same for my ankles and I stare at him in shock.

“You better run, little bird.” His voice is teasing as he takes a step back from me. I don’t hesitate. I spin and take off.

My breath is harsh and my heartbeat wild as I sprint through the woods, ignoring the branches that scratch at my face and arms. I hear his laugh following me and then his voice shouting after me, “Run, little bird, run as fast as you want but you won’t get far!”

I don’t stop to think, just mindlessly crashing through the woods as fast as I can, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I’m not sure how far I’m able to get when suddenly, my leg seems to give out from underneath me and I take a tumble.

I gasp, trying my best not to scream as I trip and find myself landing hard on the ground. Pain shoots through my body and I grit my teeth, not wanting to make any more noise in case he can hear me. Adrenaline is still pumping through me as I scramble to push myself back up from the floor. I manage to stand and take a step before my knees buckle again and I drop to my hands and knees.

What the fuck is going on? Why isn’t my body cooperating? I’m frantic, horror filling my blood as I realize something is very wrong. My legs won’t move and I don’t know why. I try to crawl forward but suddenly, my arms give out and I end up sprawled across my front, branches digging into my body painfully.

I can’t escape like this. My brain is begging my body to just move and keep running but nothing is happening. I use an excruciating amount of effort to roll myself from my front to my back so at least I can have a better vantage point but that’s all that I’m able to accomplish before my body completes shuts down. I’m left splayed out on my back, limbs frozen, mind screaming in panic when I hear footsteps approaching.

And then, I hear his voice. “Little bird, did the drugs kick in?”

My heart drops at his words. He drugged me. That was why I couldn’t move. Tears filled my eyes and I blinked rapidly, the only movement I could still produce.

I see him walk into my view through my tears and I hear him chuckle. “Looks like my little bird can’t fly anymore.” He walks up next to me and looks down at me and waves a syringe mockingly.

“A paralytic. Fast-acting and long-lasting. You’re going to be like this for at least several hours,” he says, a maniacal gleam lighting up his eyes. I try to speak and realize that I can’t even do that.

He crouches down next to me and brushes my hair off my face, then trailing a hand down my cheek, collecting a tear. “We are going to have so much fun together, little bird.”

He hefts me up into his arms and carries me through the forest, retracing the path I’d ran down. I realize with a sinking heart that I did not make it far at all and in a few hundred yards, we end up back at the car. My mind is still screaming at my body to move but nothing obeys.

He carries me into a cabin, the intended destination of our car ride, and I stare listlessly at the space around us. We end up in a bedroom with a large bed and I feel another wave of fear pass over me. He’s going to rape me.

He lays me down gently on the bed like I’m some kind of precious cargo. Then he disappears from view and I hear the sound of running water from what I assume is the connected bathroom. He comes back holding a first aid kit and a wet towel. He starts with the scratches on my face, wiping them down before putting some kind of cream over them, his fingers gentle.

He makes a tsk sound at me, “Look at you, little bird. Covered in scratches, I’m going to need to take good care of you, hm?” He smiles down at me and my stomach curdles. My eyes are wide as I stare back at him, silent.

Then he pulls out a pair of scissors and I want to flinch but I can’t. He starts to cut my shirt off my body and I feel dizzy with terror as my clothes start to fall away in strips. I beg my body to move but just like before, there’s nothing in response.

He moves down to my pants, opting to unbutton them and gently pull them off my legs, taking care to maneuver my body around. Tears are streaming down my face, wetting my temples and my hair as I stare up at the ceiling blankly.

I’m naked now, stripped bare, splayed out on the bed. “Fuck, little bird, you’re beautiful,” he says, his voice low. He runs a hand down my cheek, ghosting over my throat and down between the valley of my breasts, over my stomach, and he comes to rest in between my legs. I close my eyes, trying to escape from this horror.

He nudges my legs further apart, revealing my pussy to his hungry gaze and I feel his finger dance across me. The movement is gentle, teasing, and if I could move, it would have made me tense and jerk away. But instead, I lay still, my body unable to do anything except let him take what he wants.

He trails a gentle finger against my clit and the touch makes electricity dance down my spine. He pulls his hand away for a second and I feel his finger press against my mouth. My eyes fly open to meet his. He smiles at me before gently pushing his finger into my mouth. My lips part with no resistance and when he pulls his hand away, a string of saliva follows.

His spit-wet finger goes back to between my legs and he rubs my clit again. My eyes clench shut as an unwanted wave of pleasure washes over me and if I could moan right now, I know that I would be biting it back. His wet finger moves up and down over me and he knows exactly how hard to rub and where to touch. I feel my breath stutter in my chest and I want nothing more than to push him away, to make him stop.

“Little bird, I can feel you getting wet,” he purrs at me and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. “I’m going to take such good care of this pretty pussy,” he says as he gently slides a finger inside of me. I’m so wet now that there’s no resistance at all, and my relaxed body only helps him breech me.

He adds a second finger and suddenly, I feel the hot touch of a mouth on my clit. It’s unbearable, the forced pleasure permeating every single sense and nerve, the paralytic erasing every possible outlet I could have to soothe the sharp, overwhelming blanket of unwanted bliss. I can’t clench my legs, can’t roll my hips, arch my back, or even make a single sound. It’s torture.

His mouth and fingers work at me relentlessly and I can feel an orgasm building up. Except my body can’t respond to it, my pussy can’t tense and contract, there’s nothing to soften the rush of pleasure that slams into me. Tears are streaming down my face as my orgasm takes my breath away, the unimaginable pleasure shooting through me with no physical outlet. It makes my entire being go hazy, my breathing quickening as much as it could with my body in this state.

He doesn’t stop when I cum. His fingers continue to slide into me, curling upwards to hit my g-spot with painstaking accuracy. He lifts his mouth from my clit and flashes me a devious smile, “I told you I’d take good care of you. And fuck, you taste so fucking good, little bird. I could do this all day.”

His lips seal around my clit again, sucking, flicking, licking. I’m trapped in my body, trapped in this unbearable pleasure, as he wrings another orgasm out of my helpless body. Finally, he pulls back, sliding his fingers out of my dripping pussy. He sits back on his heels and looks down at me, triumph and satisfaction making him look like a king surveying his conquest.

He slides off the bed but stays in my field of vision as he begins to strip, every article of clothing removed revealing his attractive form. When his pants and underwear come off, I see his long, hard cock jut out, tip already dripping with pre-cum. I want to beg him to stop, tell him that I can’t take anymore but I can’t. I can only watch as he stalks toward me, crawling onto the bed and settling between my legs again.

He’s on his knees, towering over me as he strokes his cock languidly. “I’m going to make you fall apart on my cock, and make you take every single inch in that tight fucking cunt of yours. You are going to be mine, little bird.”

He moves my legs from where they’ve been spread wide, moving them to press both against my chest, leaving my pussy exposed and open for him. I feel the head of his cock push against my pussy and I close my eyes, trying to will myself away from this.

He laughs, “You can’t hide from me, you know that.” His body moves as he slides his cock into me. He’s gentle, slowly feeding an inch at a time, giving my lax body time to adjust to his massive size. I want to thrash and writhe, the feeling of his cock filling me so completely takes my breath away and it feels so fucking good I want to crawl out of my skin.

He lets out a low groan, cursing under his breath as he finally sinks all the way into me. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, your cunt was made for me.”

Then, he fucks me. His hips slam into me without remorse, every thrust making my body jolt, his grip on my legs and hips the only things keeping me in place. My eyes roll back into my head as the pleasure overwhelms me.

Every thrust slams into my cervix, the pain-tinged pleasure makes me want to scream, to do anything to relieve this mind-melting, all-encompassing feeling. His movements are relentless, each one punctuated by the sound of his pleasure-filled groans. The sound of my pussy’s wetness fills the room, along with our skin slapping together, creating a cacophony of lewd noise.

“Fuck, little bird, I’m going to cum in your tight cunt. I’m going to mark you as mine from the inside,” he growls, his grip on me tight as his hips speed up. Waves of pleasure crash through me and I want to claw myself out of my physical form. I can’t cope with the pleasure shooting through every nerve with nowhere to go.

His hips stutter against mine and I hear his voice rasp out a drawn-out moan as he cums inside of me. He lets my legs down gently, taking care not to strain me as he leans over me. “Fuck, next time I do this, I want you writhing underneath me in pleasure,” he says, voice breathless. I can only stare back at him in response.

He pulls away from me, the feeling of his cock leaving my pussy sending tingles down my spine. He looks at me, his cum dripping out of my cunt and he smiles. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.” His words push a stab of anguish into me. What more can he do to me? I can’t handle any more.

He climbs off the bed and steps out of my line of sight. When he comes back, he’s holding a horribly mean-looking vibrator. My eyes widen and I blink frantically, my mind screaming at him to please stop. He can’t hear me but he wouldn’t listen to me even if I could verbalize my pleading.

He smiles and spreads my legs apart again, leaving me exposed and I hear the wretched sound of the vibrator fill the room. There’s no gentle touch, no softness that comes to soothe me, just the horrible, nerve-shattering press of the vibrator against my clit.

My mind breaks. The pleasure explodes out of me but every single muscle of my body stays relaxed, amplifying the unimaginable feeling. There’s nothing to dampen it, no clenching of my legs to make it any better, no cries, moans, whimpers, and screams leaving my throat to distract me. Just the vibrator destroying me.

My orgasm rips through me and he doesn’t relent. Moments later, another orgasm makes my every nerve combust and he only grounds the vibrator harder against me. The next one makes my vision go white and my brain shuts down any higher function and leaves me a shell only capable of experiencing the torturous pleasure. The last orgasm rips through me and tears through my consciousness and my world fades to black.

—

I wake up to a darkened room, clearly a few hours since I passed out, judging by the dusky sunset peeking in through the windows. I’m raw, destroyed, shattered. I desperately will my body to move and I feel my heart jump when my fingers twitch against the bed. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the lack of his presence, and for the first time, I feel hope beat in my chest.

And then, I hear footsteps and see him walk into view. My heart sinks. He’s holding another syringe and he smiles at me. “I see you’re awake, I hope you had a good nap.”

I desperately try to force my body to move but all I get is another pathetic twitch of my fingers. His gaze zeros onto it and he smirks. “Looks like you need a second dose, little bird.”

I want to scream, to beg, to do anything to put up a fight but there’s nothing that can be done. He comes up to the bed and with gentle fingers, pushes the syringe into my hip and presses the plunger down. Tears drip out of my eyes as I fight against my paralyzed body, my fingers still twitching desperately.

A few moments later, even that movement leaves me. He brushes my hair off my forehead and leans down to press a long kiss against my head. “You’re mine forever now, little bird.”

Note: This concept is so hot to me and when I saw a clip of the movie's premise, I knew I had to write this! Hope y'all enjoy! <3

#nsft concept #overstim kink #dark fantasy #cl1t torture #rap3 fantasy #sex and drugs #tw noncon #tw rap3 #rap3fetish #overstim nsft #kidnap fantasy

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ducksido · 17 days ago

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What if yuu died?

(I'm feeling angsty >:]) ((I kept crying while writing this))

DWARF'S MINE:

Grim

Grim is the first one to notice.

They were bickering, as usual. Yuu told him not to wander off. He called them bossy and sauntered ahead. He thought Yuu was right behind him until he heard the rumble.

When Grim turns around, the mine is collapsing. He hears a scream—their scream—and then nothing.

At first, Grim is in denial. “They’re probably fine! Just hiding like a scaredy-cat!” he yells, ears flat, tail bristled. He digs at the rocks, paws trembling, not because he’s weak but because he’s scared. His tiny claws scrape until they bleed.

Later, when the truth settles in, Grim doesn’t talk for days. No bragging. No yelling. He just curls up on the couch in Ramshackle, staring at the door like he’s waiting for Yuu to walk through it.

He starts blaming himself. Quietly. “I shoulda protected them… I’m the Great Grim, right? What good is all this power if I couldn’t save 'em…”

Ace Trappola

Ace puts up a wall.

He makes some stupid comment at first. “They seriously died that easily? Weak…”

But his voice cracks halfway through. He avoids eye contact with Deuce and walks away before anyone can see him clench his fists.

Later, Ace returns to the mine alone. He just stands at the spot where the rocks fell, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Dumbass… you weren’t even supposed to be here. What were you thinking, coming down here without magic?”

If anyone tries to talk to him about it, he brushes them off. But sometimes, when no one's looking, he stares at Ramshackle’s gate like he wants to go up and say something—but always turns around.

Deuce Spade

Deuce takes it hard.

He was right there. He thought he was being responsible. He was supposed to look out for the magicless student, right?

“I failed them…” “I should’ve noticed something was wrong…” “If I’d just reacted faster…”

He says things like that a lot. Grim won’t talk. Ace won’t listen. So Deuce just keeps repeating it to himself.

He visits Ramshackle and helps clean it up. Makes sure the firewood is stacked, the beds are neat—even though no one lives there anymore. “I just… want to keep it ready. In case they come back. Somehow.”

Crowley

Crowley is... complicated.

Publicly, he spins it as a “tragic accident”—“A rare, unfortunate incident during a school-sanctioned task! We shall honor our lost guest!” He uses big words and flashy speeches, and pretends like this wasn’t his fault.

But when he’s alone in his office, he looks at the file with Yuu’s name and wonders if he ever even really tried to help them.

He sent a magicless teen to mine with unstable students and monsters.

He knew they were different. Vulnerable. And yet, he brushed it off.

There’s a note he writes but never sends, addressed to the mirror that summoned Yuu:

“This realm took what it never should have touched. And now it has blood on its hands.”

He keeps the key to Ramshackle on his desk. Every time he sees it, he flinches.

RIDDLE'S OVERBLOT

Grim

He saw it happen.

He was right there—he saw the blast coming, and he tried to drag Yuu back, but they slipped from his grip.

“Yuu?” he calls out, paw nudging at their arm. “Hey. Hey, c’mon, this ain’t funny. Get up.”

He tries to laugh it off at first. Grim doesn’t do death. He doesn’t understand it. Not really.

But when the healers come and shake their heads, when no one responds, something inside Grim shatters.

His magic starts reacting wildly. He growls and sparks with unstable fire, yelling at Riddle’s unconscious body like it’s his fault. “You ruined everything! They’re gone and it’s because of YOU!”

Afterward, he won’t eat. Won’t talk. He curls up in Yuu’s bed with their uniform jacket tucked under his chin, tail limp.

“They promised we’d figure stuff out together... Now I gotta do it alone?”

Ace Trappola

Ace flips out.

Not right away. First, it’s disbelief. “No, no, they’re gonna get up. Right? Deuce? Tell me they’re fine.”

Then, it’s anger. At Riddle. At Cater and Trey for not stopping it. At himself.

He slams his fist into a wall so hard his knuckles bleed. “I should’ve pulled them out. I saw the signs. I knew something was gonna happen.”

He gets snappy. Bitter. Starts arguments with anyone who tries to sugarcoat it. “They didn’t ‘pass peacefully.’ They got caught up in some overblot crap that wasn’t even their fault!”

He avoids Ramshackle. Too many memories. Too much guilt.

But he keeps Yuu’s student ID in his jacket pocket.

Deuce Spade

Deuce cries.

He tries to hold it in, tries to be strong—because that’s what he thinks Yuu would’ve wanted—but the tears come anyway. He sobs into his hands when no one’s looking, shaking with the weight of regret.

“I promised to protect them…” he whispers.

He keeps up their dorm. Keeps bringing food to Grim, even if the little guy won’t touch it. He visits Crowley’s office demanding answers, demanding justice, yelling that this shouldn’t have happened.

Deuce becomes the one who remembers the little things—how Yuu liked their tea, the dumb jokes they told, the way they always said "I've got your back" even without magic.

And he makes sure everyone else remembers too.

Riddle Rosehearts

When he wakes up from the overblot and hears the news, he goes silent.

He doesn't cry. Doesn’t scream. He just… shuts down.

He asks to see the body. Crowley says no.

So Riddle walks to the rose maze himself, stands in the spot where Yuu fell, and just stares at the blood-stained petals.

“I didn’t mean to…”

He says it to no one. Over and over. A mantra. A curse.

He writes an apology note but tears it up. Who would it even go to?

Trey and Cater notice the shift—Riddle becomes harsher on himself. More rigid. Less confident. Because deep down, he knows:

Someone died because he lost control.

Cater Diamond

Cater’s smile doesn’t slip right away.

He’s used to filtering his emotions. Used to staying “on brand,” even when he’s horrified. So when he sees Yuu’s lifeless form after the magic storm clears, he just… freezes.

“H-Haha… no way, right? This has to be a prank. Right, Riddle?”

No one answers. Grim is howling. Ace is screaming. Deuce is crying.

Cater’s hands start to shake.

Later, he’ll post nothing. Not even a filtered picture. He'll ghost Magicam for a while.

He tries to visit Ramshackle once, to drop off a bouquet of marigolds and forget-me-nots—but the door creaks open and he sees Grim curled up on the couch, and he just can’t do it.

“I didn’t even know them,” he murmurs to himself, “and it still hurts this bad… What about the ones who did?”

Trey Clover

Trey stays composed. He always does.

He takes over when everyone else is falling apart—helping stabilize the overblot aftermath, escorting Riddle away from the scene, offering Deuce a tissue, shielding Cater from seeing too much.

But when he's alone in the kitchen later, making a tart for no one, he lets himself break a little.

His knife pauses mid-slice. A cherry slips and stains the counter red.

“I should’ve noticed Riddle was this close to snapping,” he mutters. “If I’d stopped him sooner…”

Trey doesn't cry. But guilt clings to him like powdered sugar on a fresh cake. Yuu wasn’t his responsibility, but they were in his dorm's garden. Under his vice-leadership. And that’s not something he forgets easily.

He leaves a note at Ramshackle with a box of treats:

“For Grim. I know they liked sweet things. —Trey”

Dire Crowley

Crowley is the one who has to “make it official.”

He stands before the gathered first years, his usual flourish gone. There’s no fanfare, no dramatic cloak-swoosh. Just a stiff, solemn tone.

“It is with deepest regret that I must confirm… the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm has passed, following the incident involving an overblot.”

He doesn’t look anyone in the eye.

When the students leave, he stays behind in the hall, staring at the cracked mirror that once brought Yuu here.

“They were never supposed to be involved in magic,” he mutters. “I was supposed to protect them…”

He writes a formal report. Then another one. Then a third. None of them feel right.

Later, Crowley visits Ramshackle and sets down a key with a tiny raven charm beside their bed.

“I promised you safety. I failed. May this place remember you better than I did.”

LEONA'S OVERBLOT

It’s live. NRC's Spelldrive match is being broadcast across Twisted Wonderland.

Leona’s magic erupts like a sandstorm hurricane—spikes of sand and flame. Yuu is running, dragging an injured Grim, trying to reach Jack.

Then comes the roar.

Then silence.

The sand settles. A figure lies limp in the wreckage.

There’s a gasp on the feed. The camera zooms in— —and the world watches as the magicless Prefect, the one who stood beside overblots and chaos, lies still on the battlefield.

Grim

Grim doesn’t even process what happens at first.

He sees the sandstorm. The explosion of magic. He hears Yuu scream—and then nothing. Just silence.

He claws at their body. “Get up! Hey! I said get UP!”

He tries to use his magic. Tries to warm them up with a fireball. Nothing works.

He sobs until his voice is hoarse. He doesn’t leave their side—not when the teachers show up, not when the sun sets, not even when Crowley tries to move him.

“You said we were gonna leave this place together, remember? You promised…”

After that, he never says their name again. But he whispers it in his sleep, tail curled around their favorite pillow.

Ace Trappola

Ace punches Leona.

No questions, no hesitation—he hauls off and decks him right across the jaw, shouting “You bastard! You KILLED them!”

It doesn’t matter that Leona’s still recovering from the overblot. It doesn’t matter that he gets dragged off. He’s shaking with rage.

Ace’s grief comes out as fire. Loud. Angry. Messy.

Later, he sneaks into Ramshackle alone. He rifles through Yuu’s drawers, looking for something—a hoodie, a note, an old snack wrapper. Anything that still smells like them.

He finds a photo they all took before the Spelldrive match.

He keeps it in his wallet.

Deuce Spade

Deuce kneels beside Yuu’s body and doesn’t move for a long time.

He holds their hand. It’s still warm. He begs the healers to try again. Begs the staff to do something.

“They can’t be gone… Not them. Not Yuu…”

He starts blaming himself. “If I’d been faster. If I’d trained harder. If I’d just been stronger—”

He throws himself into becoming stronger after that. Pushing past his limits. Studying harder. Training until he drops.

But he never stops wearing the little Ramshackle pin Yuu made for him, safety-pinned to the inside of his collar.

Cater Diamond

Cater completely drops the act.

No more filters. No cute captions. No jokes.

He vanishes from Magicam for a full month. When he comes back, it’s quiet. Just a black square and one line:

“Miss u, bestie.”

He tries to keep smiling around others, especially Grim, but it’s clearly forced. His voice cracks sometimes.

“I never even said goodbye… How could I not say goodbye?!”

Cater leaves a bracelet at the edge of the Savanaclaw field where they fell—green and silver beads, their initials on it.

He comes back every week to make sure it's still there.

Trey Clover

Trey becomes the one who takes care of everyone else.

He comforts Grim. Checks on Deuce. Calms Ace. Brings food even when no one eats.

He tries to be steady, reliable—but even he has his moments.

Sometimes, late at night in the kitchen, when he’s baking and the scent of vanilla fills the room, he sees Yuu laughing by the counter and has to sit down before he breaks.

He brings a box of strawberry tarts to Ramshackle and places it on their bed, whispering, “You always liked these… right?”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is devastated.

He stares at their body with wide, horrified eyes. His throat closes. He stammers something—rules, overblot laws, consequences—but the words fall flat.

He visits their grave alone. He brings roses, red and white.

“I should have stopped Leona. I knew something was wrong. I should have said something. Done something…”

He reads old messages Yuu sent him. Keeps rereading them, like they'll change.

When Heartslabyul hosts a tea party in their memory, Riddle personally makes sure it’s perfect.

“They deserve nothing less.”

Jack Howl

Jack grits his teeth.

He says nothing at first. Just watches in silence as the healers pronounce Yuu gone.

But later, he trains. Harder than ever. His knuckles split. His legs ache.

“If I’d been there a second earlier… I could’ve shielded them.”

He doesn’t cry, but he starts carrying himself a little more respectfully. For Yuu.

At Ramshackle, he leaves a desert lily by their bed—a flower that survives in harshness. “You were tough. I’ll honor that.”

Dire Crowley

Crowley looks… older afterward.

He gives a dramatic speech at the memorial. Everyone assumes he’s playing it up again—until he chokes up mid-sentence.

“This school was supposed to keep them safe…”

He writes a letter to the Headmage’s council, arguing that overblots are no longer “rare accidents,” but institutional failures.

He also writes one to Yuu.

It sits in his drawer, never sent.

“You deserved better. From this world. From me. I only hope the next life is kinder.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona doesn’t say a word when he’s told Yuu didn’t survive.

He just stares. At the scorch mark in the dirt. At the faces of the others—Grim sobbing, Deuce shaking, Ace screaming at him. He says nothing.

He turns away.

No apology. No excuse. He doesn't even try to defend himself.

Later, alone in his dorm, he leans against the wall with a clenched jaw, grinding his molars. His overblot haze is gone, but the image of Yuu—burned into his memory—won’t leave.

“Tch... They were a nobody. Just some magicless brat...”

But he’s not saying it to anyone else. He’s trying to convince himself. Because deep down, he knows that’s not true. Yuu stood their ground. Faced him when even Savanaclaw students ran. And they died because of him.

The next day, Leona doesn’t come out of his room.

The week after that, he’s quieter. Less sharp-tongued. Still dangerous, still smug—but there’s a heaviness in his voice now.

He doesn’t go to the memorial. But he sends a small wrapped parcel to Ramshackle with Ruggie.

Inside: a faded Savanaclaw armband and a simple note.

They had guts. —L

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t close to Yuu, but they helped him once.

Shared a snack. Laughed at his dumb jokes. Treated him like a person, not Leona’s errand boy.

So when he sees their body, something shifts.

“…They’re really gone?”

He doesn’t cry. He’s too used to loss for that. But his stomach churns as he watches Grim howl and Ace get dragged away from Leona.

Ruggie knew this was gonna happen eventually. He just didn’t think it’d be Yuu.

He feels the tension in the dorm, hears the whispers from other students, and suddenly everything feels too loud.

That night, he lights a candle in the Savanaclaw lounge. It’s small, cheap, something from the Night Market.

He stares at the flame and murmurs, “Rest easy, alright? Sorry we never got to hang out more…”

Then he turns and gets back to work, because someone has to clean up the mess.

But he steals food from the cafeteria a little more often now.

For Grim.

AZUL'S OVERBLOT

Grim

He can’t even scream this time.

He runs to their body, but the water’s still seeping away. He tries to drag them out. Shouts for help.

He sobs into their clothes, claws clenched around fabric, whispering over and over, “No no no—come on, come on—don’t do this, please—”

He tries breathing fire, again and again, like maybe the warmth will bring them back.

Azul’s contracts burn around them. Grim doesn’t care. He curls around their chest and doesn’t move for hours.

Ace Trappola

Ace laughs.

It’s a broken sound, too sharp to be real.

“No way. No way they’re— They can’t be— This is stupid. They survived Leona. They survived Riddle. They’re Yuu.”

He looks at Azul like he wants to kill him, but then just… stops. He walks over to Yuu’s body and sits down beside them, knees to his chest, silent.

Hours later, he mutters to no one, “I didn’t even get to say sorry… I called them annoying this morning…”

Deuce Spade

Deuce falls to his knees.

He shakes Azul by the collar, shouting “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” before Jack pulls him back.

Then he kneels by Yuu and clutches their hand like it’s an anchor. He doesn’t move for a long time, even when everyone else starts to leave.

He wears their Ramshackle pin on his blazer after that. Cleans it every morning.

When he does tests, exams, in a track race, he whispers under his breath, “Watch me. I’ll make you proud.”

Jack Howl

Jack stands frozen in place.

His tail bristles. His claws dig into his palms. But he doesn’t lash out. He doesn’t cry.

He walks over and picks up the tattered scarf Yuu always wore, brushes the ink off it gently.

“They were a good one,” he says quietly.

He trains harder after that. Says less. But anyone who enters the Savannaclaw training field will find a small stone marker in the far corner.

“To the one who stood tall without claws.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie curses.

“Damn it. Damn it all.”

He kicks one of the broken tables. Then another. And then he stops—because he sees Grim, curled and shaking, and his chest aches.

He drops to a squat beside him, puts a hand on Grim’s back.

“They were… They were somethin’ else, huh?”

He steals food from the Lounge that night. Loads of it. Drops it off at Ramshackle with no note.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he swears to himself: No one else from their circle dies on his watch.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s the first to arrive after the overblot ends.

He sees the ink, the body, the shattered remains of the contracts—and doesn’t speak. Not at first.

“…You actually went and got them killed, huh?” he mutters to Azul.

Leona walks over to Yuu and crouches low. His tail flicks.

“Should’ve told you not to play hero again. Should’ve made you stay out of this.”

He leaves a desert lily by their side and walks away before anyone sees his hands shaking.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is catatonic.

He collapses when the overblot fades. The moment he sees what he’s done—who he’s killed—his voice dies in his throat.

“No… No, no, no… I didn’t mean…”

He vomits ink.

He sobs behind his hands.

He screams at the sea for days afterward.

He locks himself in his office and doesn't come out. Not for weeks. He can’t even look at his own reflection.

Eventually, he stops using contracts.

He burns every single one.

Jade Leech

Jade is… quiet.

Too quiet.

He kneels beside the body and closes their eyes. Straightens their sleeves. Brushes the ink from their lashes.

Then he looks at Azul—torn, sobbing—and doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t smile after that. Not in the Lounge. Not in class.

When asked, he only says: “They were… sincere. And brave. It's a shame. A true shame.”

He visits Ramshackle every now and then, leaving wild mushrooms at the doorstep.

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn’t take it well.

First, he laughs.

“Eh? Seriously? Shrimpy’s dead? Just like that?”

Then his smile vanishes. Completely.

“...No fun.”

He walks into the Lounge’s VIP room and trashes it. Rips through furniture. Breaks the glass. Shatters the chandelier.

No one stops him.

After that, he won’t talk about it. If someone mentions Yuu, he gets quiet.

He goes out swimming in the ocean for hours. Sometimes all night.

When he comes back, he’s always more tired.

Dire Crowley

Crowley stands at the edge of the scene, looking like a ghost.

This is the third time now. Third overblot. Third time Yuu has nearly died. Except this time…

He pulls his hat down, voice tight. “I failed them. Again.”

He doesn’t perform this time. No grand speeches. Just silence and shame.

He drafts a dozen letters to Yuu’s family—then throws them all out. What could he say? "Your child died in another world under my care?"

He declares a school-wide mourning period and cancels all contracts indefinitely.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is.

JAMIL'S OVERBLOT

They were too close. Always too close.

In trying to protect Kalim, in trying to talk Jamil down, they stepped into range—and one of the snake-like braids struck. Fast. Precise. Poisonous.

No one noticed the bite at first. Not even Yuu.

But as the overblot fades, and the sand settles, they collapse—pale, lips turning blue, their breathing labored until…

It stops.

And the music dies with them.

Grim

He’s the first to notice something’s wrong.

He shakes Yuu’s arm, pats their cheek. “Oi, this isn’t funny—come on, we’ve gotta scold Jamil, right?”

But their chest doesn’t rise.

Grim screams. His voice cracks.

“YUU?!”

He doesn’t leave their side for the rest of the night, paws clutching their arm, growling at anyone who tries to move them.

When Ace and Deuce return, he nearly attacks them just to stop them from seeing.

Jamil Viper

He sees the bite. He knows exactly what it means.

He knows.

He drops to his knees.

“...No… no no no…”

His voice shakes. His hands tremble. His overblot form may have faded, but its consequences linger like venom in his blood.

He killed them.

No tricks. No schemes. No brainwashing. Just murder.

He doesn’t run. He doesn’t speak. He just sits in the sand, staring at his hands, unable to move.

He’s silent for hours.

When they drag him away, he doesn’t resist.

Kalim Al-Asim

He doesn’t understand at first.

“Yuu? What are they doing? They’re just sleeping, right? Right, Jamil?!"

But Jamil won’t meet his eyes.

And when Grim doesn’t answer—when Grim starts sobbing—Kalim’s smile falls. Shatters.

“No… no, no, this isn’t…”

He grabs Yuu’s hand and holds it like he can warm it back to life.

“Please—wake up—we haven’t even gone swimming yet! You promised!”

He cries hard. For hours. He tries to take the blame, keeps saying:

“It should’ve been me. I was the one he hated…”

Azul Ashengrotto

When Azul sees the body, he goes eerily quiet.

He slams the lounge door shut, tells Jade and Floyd to cancel operations for a week. When they ask why, he just mutters:

“Yuu’s dead. Jamil’s overblot.”

That night, Azul goes down to the sea and throws in a silver pen—a token Yuu once gave him when he helped them with a contract.

He doesn’t talk about it afterward.

But he never lets a client leave with a dangerous deal again.

Jade Leech

Jade lowers his when he sees the body.

“…How unfortunate.”

He’s quiet for a long while. He plants a rare desert flower in a terrarium—a tribute. Waters it every morning.

When questioned, he only says, “They were brave. It is a shame bravery rarely guarantees survival.”

But his smiles are smaller now. More thoughtful. Especially around Jamil.

Floyd Leech

He gets quiet.

Too quiet.

He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t grin. Just tosses a beach ball into the ocean and watches it float away.

When asked, he mutters, “Shrimpy was s’posed to come back. I was gonna show ‘em how to really swim…”

And then, with no warning, he grabs Jamil by the collar and slams him into a wall.

“You bit them, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t hit him. Just glares, then shoves him down and walks away.

He doesn’t show up to class for three days after that.

Crowley

He returns in high spirits, sunburned and humming—until he sees the school’s flag at half-mast.

“What happened—?”

Grim hits him with a fireball before he can finish his sentence.

When Crowley sees Yuu’s name etched into the memorial stone, he drops to his knees.

He doesn’t even try to justify himself.

He just whispers, “I left. Again. And they paid for it…”

And for once, Crowley vanishes from public view.

Not even the staff can find him for days.

Ace Trappola

He bursts through the gate, duffel in hand, bragging to Deuce—until Grim tackles him, claws shaking.

“They’re gone,” Grim wheezes, “They’re gone, Ace!”

Ace laughs. “Huh? Quit messin’ with me—what do you—”

Then he sees Deuce’s face pale. And the memorial stone. And the empty Ramshackle doorway.

“…No. No, no—this is a joke, right?!”

He punches the wall until his knuckles bleed.

Deuce Spade

He drops his bag the moment Grim tells them.

“No way… No—they were fine. They were fine when we left—”

He clutches his stomach and falls to his knees. “Why weren’t we here? Why didn’t we come back sooner?!”

He visits the grave every morning for a week. Leaves flowers. Doesn’t say much in class.

His grades improve. His magic sharpens.

He swears it won’t happen again.

Riddle Rosehearts

He stares at the nameplate on the stone.

“…They died protecting someone else?”

He places a red rose beneath the inscription.

“They never followed the rules… and still had the nerve to leave before I could thank them.”

His voice is brittle.

After that, he disciplines his dorm a little less harshly.

He gives Grim his leftover tarts in silence.

Trey Clover

He sighs deeply, brows furrowed.

“…I should’ve known something like this would happen.”

He helps Cater plan a quiet tribute in Heartslabyul. A tea party with Yuu’s favorite sweets. No rules. No scolding.

Just stories.

Trey keeps their seat open.

Cater Diamond

He cries in the hallway.

No selfies. No filters. No pretending.

Just raw, ugly crying.

“Why didn’t I get more pictures with them…?”

He organizes a social feed in their memory. Posts their art. Their dumb selfies. Their best moments.

It goes viral within NRC. Students from all dorms comment:

“They helped me.” “They stood up for me.” “I miss them…”

Leona Kingscholar

“…Damn snake.”

He growls low, tail twitching.

He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t threaten. Just walks out of the dorm and stares at the cliffs until sunset.

He was starting to respect them.

Now he never gets the chance.

Ruggie Bucchi

He’s pissed.

At Crowley. At Jamil. At himself.

He sneaks into the infirmary late at night and punches the wall once—just once.

Then he wipes his eyes and leaves, like nothing happened.

But he leaves offerings at the stone every week. Small things.

Bread. Buttons. A lucky toothpick.

Jack Howl

He stands before the memorial with flowers in hand and says nothing.

Not a word.

But he starts training harder.

When he duels, he whispers: “Hope you’re watching.”

VIL'S OVERBLOT

The air is thick with smoke and glamour. Vil's overblot form collapses, and the world finally breathes.

Everyone thinks it's over.

Until Yuu sways.

Until their lips tremble with blue.

Until they fall with no warning.

Grim reaches them first, and then all hell breaks loose.

Grim

He’s laughing at first. “We did it, right?! Right, Hench—?”

He sees the foam on their lips.

“No.”

He shakes them. “No—NO! Don’t you dare pull this crap—wake up! You said we were gonna get celebratory tuna!”

He shrieks when they stop breathing. He claws at his own face, trembling so hard he can barely speak.

When someone touches him, he bites them.

“DON’T—touch them—don’t take them away!!”

Ace Trappola

He rushes to Yuu’s side, shouting their name. Shaking them like that’ll undo it.

He looks to Deuce. Then to Grim. Then to Vil.

“WHO DID THIS?!”

He’s crying—actually crying—and it’s not cute. It’s ugly. Angry. Messy.

“I should’ve noticed—I should’ve—why didn’t I—?!”

He tries to do CPR. Tries to cast a healing spell. Anything.

None of it works.

Deuce Spade

He goes quiet. Stone-faced.

He tries to carry Yuu’s body like they’re still breathing, like maybe warmth and motion will bring them back.

His voice is hoarse: “I’ll take them to the infirmary. I can fix this. I can fix this.”

He doesn't stop walking until someone physically pulls him back.

When he finally lets go, he drops to his knees and sobs into his hands.

Jamil Viper

When he sees the foaming poison, the slow purple hue crawling over Yuu’s veins…

He knows.

“…Vil used poison,” he mutters, numb. “And they were too close.”

He staggers back, staring at his hands like he’s watching it happen all over again.

“Not again,” he whispers. “Not again.”

He turns and walks away. Doesn’t look back.

This time, he cries alone.

Kalim Al-Asim

“Yuu…?”

He kneels beside them. Touches their cheek.

“Yuu? Come on, wake up—it’s over, we won! You said you’d teach me how to bake that cake, remember?”

He keeps babbling. Keeps smiling. Even as tears start to fall.

Even when they don’t wake up.

“…They were always smiling,” he whispers. “Even when things were scary…”

Epel Felmier

He starts shaking.

He was right beside them. Right beside them.

And he didn’t notice.

“They were fine—they were still standing—they were smiling—”

He screams into his hands. Then punches the ground until his knuckles bleed.

Vil tries to stop him.

Epel shouts, “DON’T!”

And turns away, teeth bared in grief.

Rook Hunt

The first thing he says is quiet. Reverent.

“…They died beautifully.”

Everyone stares.

Then he kneels down and closes Yuu’s eyes gently.

“They were a soul full of light. To burn out in such a theatrical, bittersweet way… it’s almost poetic.”

His voice breaks.

He looks at Vil.

“Mon Roi. What have you done?”

Vil Schoenheit

He knew.

He knew what was in the poison. How fast it worked. How potent it was.

And still—still—he let it happen.

When Yuu collapses, his voice fails. He runs to them, brushes their hair back.

He presses his forehead to theirs.

“…You idiot,” he chokes. “Why didn’t you move? You should have stayed behind the curtain!”

He doesn’t say much after that.

But he cancels his return to the stage.

Forever.

Crowley

He returns to a somber, shattered NRC.

When he hears what happened, he doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t excuse himself.

He walks into Ramshackle dorm, sits in the dark, and whispers:

“I keep failing you.”

He shuts the dorm down for a week.

He leaves a golden brooch on Yuu’s old pillow.

Trey, Cater, Riddle, Leona, Ruggie, Jack

Trey makes a cake and leaves it at Ramshackle. Says nothing.

Cater posts one last selfie with Yuu and doesn’t log into Magicam again for a month.

Riddle reprimands Vil for days—then visits the grave in silence.

Leona grits his teeth, then throws a spell book across his room. Doesn’t talk about it.

Ruggie mutters, “Figures someone like him would mess it up,” then wipes his eyes.

Jack makes a point to place wildflowers near their grave every few days.

Jade whispers, “They died protecting others. Admirable… but costly.”

Floyd just says, “Shrimpy’s really gone, huh…” and doesn’t smile for a week.

Azul throws himself into managing the lounge, late at night he stares at a framed picture of him and Yuu and cries.

Hornton

He’s fixing the stage with his magic. Alone. Quiet. Restoring the ruins left behind after Vil’s rampage.

Then he sees it—Yuu’s name on the memorial plaque. A candle burning low.

He stares.

His magic falters.

“…No.”

His voice shakes.

“...No.”

He vanishes from the stage.

Later, students find the ruins of a blasted tree behind Ramshackle.

And Malleus is there. Silent. Still. Staring at Yuu’s favorite bench—the one they sat on during night talks.

He places a glowing crystal beside it. It hums softly. Mourning.

“No one else sat with me in the dark,” he whispers. “No one else called me ‘Hornton.’”

IDIA'S OVERBLOT

Grim

He's inconsolable.

Screaming. Thrashing. Clinging to Yuu's unmoving form. There's soot on his fur and tear tracks down his face.

“They were just—they were just joking about food! We were gonna go home, we were—they PROMISED!!”

He tries to breathe fire in grief, but it sputters out into smoke. He curls into their chest and won’t let go.

Ace Trappola

“No.”

He walks up. Stares. Backs away.

“No. No—no, this isn’t—that’s not funny, Yuu. Get up.”

He turns to Deuce. His voice is cracking.

“They’re gonna sit up. They’re just messing with us, right?”

But no one laughs.

He kneels down and covers his face with both hands.

Deuce Spade

His entire body locks up.

“I should’ve—gone in with them. I should’ve…”

His fists clench so tightly they bleed.

He kneels beside Grim and takes one of Yuu’s hands in his. Quiet.

“Thank you… for everything.”

Jack Howl

He has no words. Only a silent, thunderous grief.

He lowers his head respectfully. Closes Yuu’s eyes with trembling fingers.

He doesn't cry. But his voice is hoarse for days.

Later, he trains until he collapses. Trying to make sure no one else dies again.

Ruggie Bucchi

“…Sh*t.”

That’s all he says at first. He turns away.

Wipes his eyes before anyone sees.

But he leaves a meat pie at their grave later. Wrapped in a checkered cloth. No note. No message.

Just something Yuu said they always wanted to try.

Leona Kingscholar

He scowls. Says they were reckless. That it was bound to happen.

But the minute no one’s watching, he storms off into the desert garden and roars so loud it shakes the windows.

When he comes back, he’s dragging an ancient herb said to revive the dead.

It doesn’t work.

Trey Clover

He finds Grim later in Ramshackle.

And quietly makes enough food for two, even though only Grim eats.

No one sees him cry.

But he starts baking a certain kind of cake more often—one that only Yuu ever asked for.

Cater Diamond

He doesn’t post anything on Magicam for three months.

He tries to smile. He jokes. But his heart’s not in it.

He visits Ramshackle every week and leaves flowers—sunflowers, yellow and bright.

“You always made things feel warm, y’know?” he whispers.

Riddle Rosehearts

He keeps it together at first.

But when he’s alone? He breaks.

He slams his fists into the desk. Screams into the void.

“They didn’t have magic! They shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have had to go alone!”

He writes a law in Yuu’s honor: “No student shall face a magical threat without backup.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul’s hands shake when he sees Yuu’s body.

“They gave me a second chance,” he whispers.

“And I couldn’t even…”

He shuts down the Lounge for a week.

He orders every contract reviewed. Removes every dangerous clause Yuu once called out.

He leaves an ornate seashell at their grave. Etched with: “For the one who believed in me.”

Jade Leech

“…A tragedy.”

His tone is calm. But his eyes are not.

He takes off his gloves and places them over Yuu’s hands, folding them gently.

“I suppose I must find a new mushroom for mourning,” he murmurs.

He visits often. Leaves nothing but silence and prayers.

Floyd Leech

At first? Nothing.

Just blank staring.

Then: “Shrimpy’s really gone, huh?”

He doesn’t cry.

But he drags Idia by the collar and nearly kills him.

“You owe them. FIX IT.”

It takes four people to pull him off.

He doesn't smile after that. Not for a long time.

Idia Shroud

At first, he thinks it’s a glitch.

Then he sees them—unmoving, burned at the edges, body limp in Grim’s arms.

He doesn’t scream.

He just stares. A long time. And says:

“…I killed them.”

He doesn't resist when Floyd attacks. He wants to be punished.

Later, he shuts himself inside the lab. Ignores Ortho. Refuses food.

All he says, over and over, is:

“I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this.”

Ortho Shroud

“No. No, no, no—please wake up! I can scan you—I can rebuild you, I can—”

His voice distorts.

“PLEASE DON’T LEAVE NII-SAN BEHIND!!”

When Yuu doesn’t stir, Ortho’s eyes dim.

He flies off.

And no one sees him for three days.

Crowley

He was there. Watching from the surface. Powerless to go down with them.

When Yuu doesn’t return, he collapses to his knees.

He says nothing.

But every night after, the gate to the Underworld glows dimly. Lit by a single enchanted candle.

Burning for the student who dared cross the River Styx.

MALLEUS'S OVERBLOT (may be inaccurate)

Grim

He holds your hand as you fade, clawing at the thorns like they'll move.

“Don’t go. You—you always saved everyone!! I was supposed to protect you—!!”

He’s wailing.

When it’s over, he curls into your chest and doesn’t speak for two days.

Ace Trappola

He’s the first to scream.

“WHAT’S THE POINT OF WAKING UP IF THEY’RE DEAD!?”

He runs at the thorns. Punches them until his fists bleed. Until Deuce pulls him back.

He curses Malleus. Then curses himself.

Then, eventually, just sits on the floor. Staring.

Deuce Spade

He kneels beside your body.

His voice cracks as he says:

“I became a better person because of you…”

Then, in a whisper:

“…I don’t know how to be good without you.”

Cater Diamond

“No… not them… anyone but them…”

He sobs. No filters. No jokes. No posing.

His Magicam goes dark again. He locks himself in his room and cries into their old photos.

Trey Clover

He can’t breathe when he sees you.

He covers his face. Kneels.

“I should’ve done more. Been there. Helped you—something.”

He leaves a tiny tart beside your grave, baked with your favorite flavor.

Riddle Rosehearts

His voice is a whisper. Unsteady.

“They were the only one who understood me... even after everything I did...”

He places a rose—red and thornless—on your chest.

And kneels, head bowed.

Leona Kingscholar

He stares down at you. Quiet.

“I told you not to play hero,” he murmurs.

He sounds tired. Angry. Hollow.

But he watches over your grave when no one else will.

Silent. Guarding. For hours at a time.

Ruggie Bucchi

"...Tch."

He turns his back. Walks away.

But hours later, someone finds a crumpled note by your bed.

"Thanks for feeding me."

Jack Howl

He stands still for a long time.

Then salutes you with quiet reverence.

“You had more heart than anyone I’ve ever met.”

He trains harder than ever after that. To live by your example.

Azul Ashengrotto

He drops to his knees.

“This wasn’t part of the deal…”

His voice breaks.

“I would've traded everything. Just—just to keep them safe…”

He cancels all contracts for a week. Shuts down the Lounge. Cries behind locked doors.

Jade Leech

He gently closes your eyes.

And, for once, doesn’t smile.

“Even rare orchids wither in the frost,” he says.

And places a white lily beside you.

Floyd Leech

“…Shrimpy…”

He pokes your cheek.

No response.

Then he howls. He tears up a hallway. Slams a wall with a fist that cracks stone.

He doesn’t laugh again for a month.

Kalim Al-Asim

“No no no—you were supposed to live!! You saved me!! Why didn’t I save you!?”

He sobs into Jamil’s shoulder.

He lights candles in your memory every night.

Jamil Viper

He closes his eyes.

He doesn't speak. Just mutters a single word:

“Unfair.”

But later, he visits your resting place, presses a charm into the soil.

“I owed you more than I gave.”

Vil Schoenheit

He holds you like glass. Like something sacred.

“Your final act was... selfless. Poetic. Tragic.”

He speaks at your memorial.

And always leaves a pristine white rose.

Epel Felmier

His shoulders shake.

He refuses to speak at the ceremony. But he carves a tiny wooden charm for you.

He carries it in his pocket. Always.

Rook Hunt

Tears fall freely.

“Ah, mon trésor… such beauty, such sacrifice…”

He writes a ballad in your honor. He performs it in the forest, alone.

Idia Shroud

He stares at you with wide eyes. Whispering to himself.

“No. No. Not again. Not another one. Not like Ortho—!”

He curls into himself.

And when he reboots Ortho later, he hugs him like he’ll disappear too.

Ortho Shroud

He powers down for a full day.

And when he reactivates, he asks:

“Why didn’t I detect the danger? Why couldn’t I save them?”

He makes a digital backup of your voice. It plays when he’s alone.

Lilia Vanrouge

He lowers his head and whispers in old fae tongue.

“They were brave.”

He sings an ancient lullaby only fae children know.

And your grave is tended by wild roses from then on.

Silver

He brushes your hair back.

“I thought we’d all wake up…”

He places a dream charm on your chest.

“So you’d never be afraid. Not even now.”

Sebek Zigvolt

He yells.

First at Malleus. Then at the world. Then at himself.

“They protected you, my lord! And now they’re GONE!”

His voice breaks.

He kneels beside your grave.

“They were… a knight.”

Malleus Draconia

When he sees you fall, his world ends.

The thorns fade. The dreams collapse.

You lay still in his arms.

His voice is a whisper. A plead.

“No. No no no. This isn't what I wanted…”

He doesn’t overblot again.

He just… disappears.

Some say he wandered into the thorns. Others say he turned into mist.

But on quiet nights, a low voice murmurs:

“I wanted eternity with you.”

Crowley

For once… he takes responsibility.

He wears all black.

He lays a feathered mask at your grave.

And whispers:

“You were the one good thing I never deserved.”

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst yuu #twst headcanons #yuu died #main character death #angst #tw death #tw main character death #tw heavy topics

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gf2bellamy · 3 months ago

Note

HI IM BACK AGAIN!! just wanted to say a huge thank you for doing my request :DD

anyway i had this really cewl idea where the reader kinda dresses up as spencer one day for a prank or a joke and he LOVES IT

idk how he’d react or anything but i thought it was really cute !

YOURE THE BEST!!

- 🐚

dress up — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: Of course !! You're so very welcome <333 THIS IDEA IS SO CUTE AND FUN i love it so creative - thank you for requesting i hope you like it !!! also the first picture is what i'd imagine the outfit would look like but ofc you're free to imagine any other outfit !

You held your coffee tightly, the warmth seeping through your fingers as you stepped into the elevator. You tapped your foot impatiently against the metal floor.

The brown satchel hung at your side, an almost identical match to Spencer’s. The moment you saw it at the store yesterday, the idea struck you like a lightning bolt.

What if, just for a day, you dressed like him?

The thought had been amusing, almost childish in its excitement, but you couldn’t shake it. After all, Spencer had an undeniably good sense of style—classic, intellectual, effortlessly endearing.

So, you woke up early that morning, carefully piecing together the outfit. A checkered button-down, layered under a cable-knit sweater, topped with a brown blazer. Dark slacks and your best attempt at his signature satchel completed the look.

You had smiled at yourself in the mirror, suppressing a laugh. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough. Close enough that he would notice.

You grinned to yourself as you stepped into the BAU, the usual hum of conversation and rustling papers filling the air.

You made your way toward your desk, your fingers wrapped around the warm coffee cup as you stole a glance at Spencer.

He was deeply engrossed in the pile of case files before him, his eyes darting across the pages in that rapid way of his, completely unaware of your presence.

But the moment you set your coffee down with a soft thud, he stirred, lifting his head with the beginnings of a familiar smile—one he always gave you in the morning.

Except this time, it never fully formed.

His mouth fell open slightly, his brows knitting together in visible confusion as his gaze swept over you.

His eyes lingered on the checkered button-down peeking from beneath your cream-colored sweater, the structured blazer draped effortlessly over your shoulders, and finally, the brown satchel at your side.

You watched the gears turn in his brilliant mind, the way he pieced it together like he was solving a puzzle. The realization hit him all at once.

"You—" Spencer started, blinking rapidly, before his voice caught in his throat. He looked back at you, then at your outfit, then back at you again, as if trying to confirm whether his brain was playing tricks on him.

You simply raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly, amusement dancing in your eyes.

A teasing smile played at your lips as you leaned against your desk. "Something wrong, Dr. Reid?"

His lips parted, but no immediate response came. Instead, he let out a short, breathy laugh—equal parts bewildered and amused. "You’re… you’re dressed like me."

You feigned a gasp, placing a hand on your chest. "What? No. This is just my natural sense of style."

Spencer narrowed his eyes playfully, clearly unconvinced. "The satchel—it's nearly identical to mine."

You casually adjusted the strap on your shoulder. "Great minds think alike."

"And the sweater over the button-down?" His voice held an unmistakable note of amusement now.

"Classic, isn’t it?" You shrugged. "I figured if I’m going to be the second smartest person in the BAU, I should at least dress the part."

Spencer huffed out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his curls as if still trying to process it all.

For a moment, he just stared at you. And then, with the smallest shake of his head, he muttered under his breath, "Unbelievable."

You smirked. "Believe it, genius."

His lips twitched as he finally broke into a full smile—the kind that made your stomach flip.

Mission accomplished.

"Oh, wait! Let me show you the most important part," you announced with a grin, making your way over to his desk.

Spencer’s eyes followed you, still filled with disbelief, as if his brain was struggling to catch up with reality. You stopped beside him.

Then, with a dramatic flourish, you bent down and lifted the hem of your pants, revealing your socks.

"Mismatched," you declared proudly. One sock was patterned with tiny astronauts, the other with bright yellow ducks. "It’s not a Spencer Reid outfit if it doesn’t include mismatched socks, right?"

You shot him a cheeky smile, waiting for his reaction.

For a second, he just stared.

Mouth slightly open.

Eyes wide.

Silent.

Then, in the span of a breath, he let out a sharp laugh—genuine, unfiltered, and completely caught off guard.

"You—" he tried, but another laugh escaped before he could finish. "You really committed to this."

You straightened up, feigning offense. "Of course I did! I take my role as Spencer Reid 2.0 very seriously."

He shook his head, still chuckling as he ran a hand through his curls. "Unbelievable."

"Believable," you corrected with a smirk, plopping down in the chair next to him.

Spencer studied you for a moment, his gaze softer now. Then, as if making a silent decision, he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his desk.

"You know," he said, voice quieter but no less warm, "I think you might be pulling it off better than I do."

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip at the compliment, but you masked it with an easy shrug. "Well, I do make everything look good."

He huffed out another small laugh, shaking his head before looking back down at his papers. "I don’t know whether I should be flattered or worried about my own fashion sense now."

You nudged his shoulder lightly. "Definitely flattered."

And though he didn’t say anything, the faint pink dusting his cheeks told you he absolutely was.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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helioooss · 7 months ago

Text

fade into you

synopsis: you meet hollywood star, jennie kim, on a sleepless night…the first of many…you both bring comfort to each other.

w/c: 8k+

warnings: slow fckn burn, it’s too long. y/n is lonely, jennie’s lonely…and you’re both just yearning for each other.

a/n: ive been working on this for ages and obviously got carried away with how long it is

Los Angeles is never quiet. At night, the city hums with a different kind of energy; neon lights, angry car horns and the low murmur of people who don’t want the day to end. From your apartment’s rooftop, the party below sounds like a distant wave, layers of brick and glass muffling all the noise.

You’re usually never present at these things, but tonight, your neighbour, Irene - a nepo baby producer, invited you to one of her parties after bumping into her earlier.

It’s funny, really. You live in the city of stars, but it never felt like your world — you don’t belong to a galaxy of velvet ropes, red carpets and flashing cameras. And so, you decided to step out of the room, immediately wandering to your spot.

Your fingers graze the edge of the cold metal railing as you take a deep breath, hoping the fresh air might clear the maze of thoughts running through your head. Insomnia has a way of weaving itself into your bones, and tonight is no exception. The weight of your sleepless nights presses on your eyelids, but you know sleep won’t come.

It never does when you need it.

Just as you fish a pack of cigarettes out of your pocket, beginning to settle into the quietness, the soft click of a door opening behind you startles you out of your zone.

Someone steps out onto the rooftop, their presence breaking the stillness. You don’t look right away, assuming it’s another party guest taking a break from the noise below. But then, you feel it; the odd sense of familiarity.

A voice follows, soft and hesitant. “Mind if I join you?”

You turn towards her, and there she stands in all her glory: Jennie Kim, Hollywood’s darling. Even with only the shadows of the moonlight illuminating the place, there’s no mistaking her - sleek black dress and all.

You recognise her immediately, but you don’t react the way most people would. There’s no gasp of surprise, no wide-eyed admiration.

“Go ahead,” you motion towards the empty space beside you, putting the cigarettes back into your pocket. “All yours.”

Jennie looks momentarily taken aback by your nonchalance, but she moves closer, leaning against the railing a few feet away. For a moment, neither of you speaks. It’s not awkward, just quiet.

It’s the kind of silence that you both seek.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to be up here,” she says after a while, her eyes scanning the city below.

“Neither did I,” you reply. You glance at her, studying the way her fingers fidget slightly with the hem of her jacket. For all the fame, all the attention she must be used to, Jennie seems surprisingly normal. “I’m usually up here alone.”

She’s still gazing out at the city when she speaks again. “I needed to get away for a bit. The noise gets too overwhelming.”

You hum, understanding what she means. “I know the feeling, everyone down there is just too caught up in their worlds. And it’s not mine, sadly.”

Jennie tilts her head slightly, as if your words resonate with her. The laughter below rings louder for a moment before it dies down again, leaving the two of you in a strange bubble of calm.

For a few more moments, neither of you speak a word - entangled in the comfortable silence that breaks with the occasional gust of wind and traffic.

“I’m Jennie, by the way,” she says out of a sudden, her voice a whisper; almost uncertain.

You smile at her. “I know.”

Jennie’s lips mirror yours, the first one you’ve seen since the party started. “Heard good things about me, I hope?”

This earns her a chuckle from you as you shake your head. “Hmm, I’ll keep that mystery to myself.”

There’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes at your response, studying you for a moment longer, as if trying to figure out why you’re not treating her the same way everyone else does - but she seems to appreciate it, because when she speaks again, her voice is lighter, less guarded.

“Do you live here?” she asks, brows furrowed and all, her curiosity breaking through her reserved demeanor. “I saw you at Irene’s party earlier.”

“Yeah, a few floors down,” you answer, glancing back at the building behind you. “Don’t know why Irene invited me and why I showed up, honestly, I knew it wasn’t going to be my crowd.”

“Of course Irene did,” she laughs. “I’m glad you came, though. Who else would be on this dodgy rooftop with me?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you grin, ignoring the latter comment. “I come up here when I need to clear my head, it’s a great spot.”

Jennie hums in agreement. “I don’t get to be alone much. There’s always someone around, always wanting something from me.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. Her world is one you’ve only ever seen from an outside perspective, but the way she says it, there’s a weariness in her voice that feels too familiar.

You’ve felt it too, for different reasons.

“I guess it’s hard to find quiet when you’re…well, you,” you say carefully, not wanting to pry too much. “You’re a star.”

Jennie lets out a quiet laugh, though there’s no real humour in it. “Yeah, it’s hard to find anything real sometimes.”

Her words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, you see the person behind the fame.

Jennie Kim, the Hollywood star, is just Jennie right now, someone who’s tired, someone who’s trying to escape, just like you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That night is the first of many.

The rooftop becomes your shared sanctuary, a place where both of you can escape the noise of the world below. You don’t plan these encounters, they just happen.

Sometimes you come up, expecting to be alone, and find Jennie already there, sitting quietly on one of the lounge chairs. Other times, she arrives after you, silently joining you by the railing.

The conversations are never forced. They start slowly, like the flicker of a match that eventually catches fire. Jennie talks about her life, the constant pressure of living up to expectations, how exhausting it is to always be in the public eye.

You’re surprised by how candid she is, how she doesn’t shy away from talking about the things that bother her the most.

“I love acting,” she says one night, her voice raw in the darkness. “But sometimes I feel like I’m losing myself in it. Like I’m becoming this version of myself that’s not really me.”

You listen quietly, nodding as you try to understand what that must feel like. “I get it. I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to be famous, but I know what it’s like to feel disconnected from yourself.”

Jennie looks at you then, her coffee-coloured eyes searching yours. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Like no matter what you do, it’s never enough?”

The question catches you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer. “All the time. I’m a writer, and every day I feel like I’m failing at it. Like everything I write is just mediocre and no one wants to read it.”

She nods, her gaze softening. “I read it.”

Your heart nearly drops, blood rushing to your cheeks. “You do?”

“I adore your writing, and believe me, others do too.”

There’s comfort in her words, a weight that presses down on both of you as you sit there in the quiet of the night. You never expected to have this kind of connection with someone like Jennie Kim, but here you are, two people who feel lost in different ways.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A few days had passed since that unexpected rooftop meeting with Jennie, and you’ve been trying your best not to think about it too much - brushing it off as a surreal, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

You let out a sigh as you press open on the elevator, a coffee and a book on the other hand. You’re hoping to spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on work, but the doors reveal Irene in her designer boots and oversized sunglasses.

She flashes you a wide grin, her energy filling the small space instantly. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite writer. Went Houdini at my party again, did you?”

You chuckle, rubbing your nape. “Yeah, sorry about that. All the stars in the room hurt my eyes, you know?”

She waves her hand dismissively, her signature rings glittering. “No dramas, you didn’t miss much. Drunk producers trying to convince everyone they’re geniuses and some rookie actor crying in the corner because he didn’t get the role he wanted.”

You snort, taking a sip of your coffee. “Sounds like quite the event.”

“I know, just boring new Hollywood stuff,” she responds, leaning against the wall. “Jennie was there too, though, surprisingly.”

You blink in surprise, caught off guard by the mention of her. “Jennie?”

The elevator doors open and closes again when none of you move, too indulged in the conversation now.

“Yeah, Jennie Kim. You know, international superstar, face of like a hundred different brands, has a smile that could end wars; that Jennie,” Irene teases, raising an eyebrow. “I heard you two met on the rooftop the other night.”

“Hmm, we did,” you reply slowly, not sure where Irene is going with this. “It was kind of by accident.”

“Uh-huh,” she’s smiling at you, like she knows something you don’t. “Funny thing about that, she was asking about you the next day.”

You have a surprised look written on your face. “She was?”

She lets out a dramatic sigh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as if this was the juiciest gossip she’d ever shared in her life. “You know, casual stuff. Like, ‘do you know Y/N well?’ and ‘what’s Y/N like?’ It was actually adorable.”

You stare at her, completely thrown off balance. “Why though?”

“I’m just saying, you must have made quite the impression. People don’t usually catch Jennie’s interest like that. It’s hard to break through the whole ‘world-famous celebrity’ thing she’s got going on, you feel?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to downplay it as you ignore the flutter all over your chest. “I don’t know. We just talked for a bit, that’s all.”

Irene rolls her eyes in disbelief. “Oh sure, just a bit.”

Your face goes warm at the thought, and you quickly shake your head. “No, no. It’s not —“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” she interrupts, holding her hands up as if she’d heard the excuse a thousand times. “But come on, Y/N, Jennie doesn’t ask about people she’s not interested in.“

You groan at that, not sure how to respond.

Her grin softens into something more genuine as she presses the elevator open. “Listen, you don’t have to close yourself to every person who knocks at your door. This whole time I’ve been this building, I’ve been in elevator rides with girls who were bawling their eyes out and I just know they came from your apartment.”

“How would you even know that?” you ask, defensive tone in your voice.

“They wear the same sad look on their face.” The doors slide open, and she steps out, leaving you to process everything she had said. “Oh, and Y/N?” she calls out after you, sticking her fingers out just before the doors can close.

“Yeah?”

“Try not to overthink it,” she adds with a playful smirk. “Jennie is interested in you. The rooftop meetings might turn into something more elevated if you know what I mean.”

You whine at her joke, and she bursts out laughing, the sound echoing in the hallway as the elevator doors slide shut, leaving you wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jennie is different at night. Softer, more vulnerable than the poised and confident image you occasionally catch glimpses of on magazine covers or the news. Out here, with only the night sky and the cold breeze as witnesses, Jennie is just Jennie. And you, well, you aren’t a nameless, sleepless writer either.

You’re someone she seeks out, the only person she can talk to without having to put a mask on.

One night, you’re both sitting on the lounge chairs near the edge of the roof, the distant glow of the city illuminating the sky like a sea of fading stars.

The conversation has been low after not seeing each other for over a week, the both of you just drowning in your own thoughts. However, the only difference is that the silence between you is comfortable now; a result of the odd friendship you’d built over the weeks.

“Do you ever feel like you’re just…floating?” she finally breaks the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turn your head slightly to face her, trying to understand what she means. Her skin is glowing under the moonlight, hair loose and tousled as it fell into gentle waves over her shoulder. “Floating?”

You think she’s beautiful.

“It’s like,” she pauses, searching for the right words. “Like you’re living, but not really living. Just…existing for the sake of it. Going through the same routine because that’s what’s expected of you.”

You don’t need to think long before answering. “Sometimes, I do. I think that’s what happens when you stop feeling connected to the things that you love.”

She shifts slightly in her seat, her expression thoughtful. “I used to love my job. Like I could become someone else and leave everything behind for a while. But now, now it feels like I’m just acting all the time. I barely know who I am.”

She’s opening up more tonight, more than she ever has. There’s something about the way she talks that makes you want to listen harder, to dig beneath the surface and understand what’s really troubling her.

“You feel like you’re stuck playing a role,” you suggest gently, watching her as she nods slowly.

“Exactly. Even when I’m not on set, I’m still Jennie Kim, the celebrity. Sometimes, I don’t want to be her. Sometimes, I just want to be…me. Whoever that is.”

You know what she means. In your own way, you’ve felt the same; lost in a sea of expectations, trying to live up to an image of yourself that you’re not even sure is real anymore.

“I think a lot of people feel that way,” you say gently. “Like they’re wearing a mask for the world, and it’s too hard to take it off.”

She lets out a quiet sigh, leaning her head back against the chair. “It gets exhausting, you know? Having to pretend all the time.“

There’s a tinge of sadness in her voice that makes your heart ache. You’ve always seen Jennie as the kind of person who has it all — fame, fortune, adoration from millions of people. But hearing her talk like this, you realise even those things can’t shield someone from the loneliness that comes with them.

“Why don’t you?”

She smiles, but it’s a tired smile. “I wish I could. Perhaps, one day.”

“Perhaps.”

The weight of her words settles over the two of you like a blanket, heavy and suffocating. You wish you could say something to make it better, but you know there’s no easy answer to what Jennie’s going through. She’s trapped in a world that demands everything from her, and there’s no simple way out.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say after a long silence, the words feeling inadequate.

She shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. “It’s not your fault.”

You sit together for a while longer, the night air cool against your skin. For the first time in a long while, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence with words.

Her presence is enough, and you hope, in some small way, that yours is enough for her too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s a rare afternoon off for you, and you find yourself being dragged by Irene to a cozy outdoor café with Rosé, another pop star you had met through Irene sometime ago. The three of you settle into a comfortable rhythm over lunch, laughing and talking over plates of food that Irene ordered for the table, always with a flair of overconsumption.

“Okay, but seriously, who designed those shoes for that premiere?” Irene says, her voice full of exaggerated exasperation. She’s waving a fork in the air as she continues. “I mean, did they hate me? I almost broke an ankle just walking down the red carpet.”

Rosé chuckles, sipping her champagne, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re lucky it didn’t turn into a meme,” she teases.

Irene gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in horror. “I could not imagine becoming a meme.”

You laugh at her, shaking your head as you poke your salad. “Oh no, what would happen?”

Rosé smiles at you, leaning in slightly. “So, Y/N, how’s work been? Have you finished that chapter you were talking about last time?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. “Still working on it. Just haven’t been sleeping lately.”

Irene smirks. “Oh, I bet I know why.”

Already knowing what was coming, you raise an eyebrow. “Irene, don’t even —“

“Jennie Kim,” she announces, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And, might I add, she’s been asking about you again.”

Rosé’s eyes widens slightly, a curious smile playing on her lips as she glances between you and the producer. “Wait, Jennie? As in Jennie Jennie?”

You huff, sinking lower into your chair. “Yes, that Jennie. And no, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

Rosé tilts her head, clearly intrigued. “What’s there to think about? Jennie doesn’t usually talk about people unless they’re special.”

You shoot a glare at Irene, who’s beaming like she’d just uncovered the juiciest gossip in town. “Yeah, thanks for that. Jennie and I are just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Irene says, clearly enjoying herself as she spears a piece of steak with her fork. “Friends that like hang out almost every night.”

Rosé giggles, leaning in closer. “Okay, now I have to know. Spill the details. What’s going on with you and her?”

You heave out a sigh, knowing there is no way you are getting out of this. “We met on the rooftop a while back during one of Irene’s parties. Since then, we’ve just been meeting up there. Talking, you know…late night conversations when her and I can’t sleep.”

“And she’s been asking about you,” Irene adds with a pointed look. “A lot.”

“Irene!”

Rosé laughs, covering her mouth. “Honestly, I’ve noticed Jennie’s been in a better mood lately. Like, even during backstage events, she seems lighter. Happier. I wonder if that has anything to do with you.”

You’re taken aback by Rosé’s observation. Jennie did seem happier lately, more relaxed, even when the weight of fame pressed down on her. But you never considered that your late night talks might have had anything to do with it.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, feeling a bit flustered. “We’re just talking. That’s all.”

Irene and Rosé exchanged amused glances, clearly not buying your attempts at downplaying it.

“Whatever you say,” Irene responds, smirking. “But I think it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Jennie likes you. And, if you ask me, you should stop overthinking and just go for it.”

Rosé nods in agreement, her smile warm and inviting. “She’s a good person, Y/N. If she’s happier because of you, that says something.”

“She’s not going to hurt you,” Irene interjects with a lighter tone. “Please don’t hurt her too - she’s a lonely soul, that one. You both are, so I’m glad you found each other.”

You shift in your seat, feeling the weight of their words. Part of you wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you had a bigger impact on Jennie than you realised.

But another part of you is still scared of what could happen if you got too close, if you let yourself fall for her. After all, love hadn’t been kind to you; so you closed your door on it.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, giving them a small smile. You roll your eyes as Irene and Rosé clinked their glasses; perhaps they were right. Maybe it’s time to stop overthinking and start letting things happen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The nights blur together in a series of quiet conversations and shared solitude. You find yourself growing more comfortable around Jennie, and she around you. The walls between you have come down, and though you don’t say it aloud, you’ve both come to rely on these nights together.

It’s strange. You’ve never had a friendship like this, one that exists solely in the darkness, in the quiet of the night, away from the prying eyes of the world. By day, you’re still the same sleepless writer, struggling to meet deadlines, battling the constant feeling that you’re not good enough. But at night, up here with her, you feel a little more at peace. Even if sleep still eludes you, there’s just something comforting about your moments together.

One particularly clear night, she asks a question that catches you off guard.

“Why do you stay up here so late? Don’t you ever sleep?”

You laugh. “I wish. I don’t really sleep much these days. I don’t wanna rely on my tablets so much.”

Jennie frowns, a shade of concern in her eyes. “Insomnia?”

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “It’s been getting worse lately. I’ll lie in bed for hours, but my mind just won’t shut off. It’s like there’s too much going on in my head, and no matter what I do, I can’t get it to quiet down.”

Jennie watches you for a moment, her expression gentler. “That sounds awful.”

“It is,” you say, your gaze drifting back to the skyline. “It’s been making everything harder. I can’t focus during the day, and my writing’s been…so terrible, honestly. I’m barely functional most mornings.”

The words spill out before you can stop them, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much, but she doesn’t judge you.

She just listens.

“I wish I could help.”

“You already do,” you reply, surprised by your own honesty. “These nights…talking with you, it helps. I don’t feel so alone.”

Jennie grins, and for the first time, it feels genuine, unburdened by the weight she usually carries. “I’m glad.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Time passes and the nights stretch on, and something between you begins to shift as you look back on your conversation with Irene and Rosé.

It’s subtle at first; small moments, fleeting glances, a brush of your hands as you pass each other by the railing. You don’t talk about it, but it’s there, lingering in the air between you like a secret neither of you is quite ready to admit.

One night, you find yourself standing closer to Jennie than usual, your arms almost touching as you both lean on the railing, looking out at the city below. The moon is particularly bright tonight, casting a soft glow over the rooftop, and the stars seem to be watching you, waiting.

You hadn’t seen her in weeks, and she greets you with boxes of pizza and a bottle of wine in her hand, telling you how much she hates fashion week.

“Have you ever wondered…” her tone is careful, almost hesitant as she pauses. “Have you ever wondered if we were meant to meet? Like, maybe we were supposed to find each other up here.”

You glance at her to find her looking at the city in front of you, studying the way her features soften in the moonlight, her dark eyes reflecting the glow of the city. There’s something vulnerable about her in this moment, something that makes your heart ache in a way you’re not ready to face.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “But I’m glad we did.”

“I missed you,” she admits. “Did you miss me?”

“I did, it feels lonely without you here now.”

Her gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The noise of the city fades into the background, and all you can hear is the steady beat of your own heart. There’s something electric in the air, something that pulls you closer to her, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in.

Your lips meet hers in a soft, hesitant kiss, and for a brief moment, everything falls away. The doubts, the fears, the sleepless nights; it all fades, leaving only the warmth of Jennie’s touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.

But then reality crashes back in, and you pull away, your heart racing. “I can’t,” you whisper, stepping back. “I’m sorry, Jennie. I just…I can’t.”

She looks at you, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. She nods slowly, her voice barely audible. “It’s okay. I get it.”

You want to say more, to explain why can’t let it happen, but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you turn and leave the rooftop, the weight of what just happened pressing down on you like a heavy blanket.

After that night, everything changes.

Jennie stops coming to the rooftop, and though you try to tell yourself it’s for the best, a part of you misses her. You miss the quiet conversations, the way she made you feel understood in a way no one else ever has, but you know you can’t let yourself get attached.

You can’t risk hurting her, or yourself. The walls you built took years to stabilise, you can’t let someone else in again.

Days turn into weeks, and you start seeing Jennie everywhere, but only from a distance. You catch glimpses of her in magazine articles, on TV interviews, on red carpets. She’s back in the spotlight, drowning herself in her work, and you watch from the sidelines as she slips further and further away.

You tell yourself it’s better this way, but the truth is, it hurts. You’ve grown to care for Jennie in a way you didn’t expect, and now that she’s gone, the rooftop feels emptier than ever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’re sitting at your desk one afternoon, trying to concentrate on writing but finding it nearly impossible. The words on the screen blur together as your mind drifts back to her — like it always seems to do lately. The nights without her have been long and restless, and no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, you can’t stop thinking about her.

And it certainly doesn’t help that you’ve been avoiding Irene and everyone that could possibly be in Jennie’s circle.

“Hey, are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?” Lisa’s voice pulls you back to reality. You nod, turning towards her.

Lisa, your best friend and old roommate, has been talking for the past ten minutes about some new reality show she’s obsessed with. She’s sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, glancing back at your laptop. “Something about hot contestants and drama, right?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, eyes narrowing. “Sure, that’s exactly it.”

“What’s up with that look?”

“You’ve been so weird lately, zoning out and acting mysterious. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you say a little too quickly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Work, deadlines, you know how it is.”

“Hmm,” Lisa hums, clearly not convinced. She stretches her arms and yawns before tossing her phone onto the couch and standing up. “Well, whatever it is, you need a break. You’ve been glued to that laptop for hours. I’m making coffee. Want some?”

You nod absentmindedly, barely listening as Lisa walks into the kitchen. You can hear your phone vibrating from your bedroom, but you don’t check it immediately. You assume it’s just another email from other editors or some work-related notification.

Instead, you scroll through your half-finished article, sighing at the lack of progress.

“Hey, do you mind if I grab your phone charger?” Lisa asks from the kitchen.

“Yeah, go ahead. It’s on the table by my bed,” you reply, not thinking twice.

She disappears into your room, and you return to your article. For a few blissful minutes, you actually manage to focus, typing out a few coherent sentences before her voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

“Oh my GOD.”

You flinch, nearly knocking over your water bottle in the process. Her voice has jumped several octaves, and it’s followed by a burst of nervous laughter. “What?!” you yell out, spinning around in your chair.

She comes charging back into the living room, your phone in her hand, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Uh, excuse me. Who’s texting you? Because I just saw a whole bunch of messages from someone named Jennie—” she holds up your phone “With a VERY familiar profile picture.”

You freeze, realizing immediately what your best friend has stumbled upon.

“Lisa —“

“Oh no, no, no,” she interjects, waving your phone around like it’s court case evidence. “Do not even try to tell me that Jennie is just some random friend. I recognise that face anywhere! Jennie Kim is messaging you?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Lisa, please, calm down. It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think? I’m sorry to invade your privacy but you invaded mine for four years,” her eyes are practically bulging out of her head now, and she’s shrieking. She opens the messages, scrolling through them with increasing disbelief. “She’s asking how you are. She’s sending cute little ‘I miss you’ texts. I miss you? This is Jennie Kim! And you’re not responding?!”

You can’t help but chuckle at Lisa’s reaction, but your stomach twists with anxiety. “It’s complicated.”

“This is a Hollywood star sending you heart emojis, there’s nothing complicated about this except the fact that you haven’t told me!”

Before you can respond, the Thai woman glances at your phone again, her eyes widening as she scrolls even further. “Oh, hold up. Is this —” her hand flies to her mouth dramatically. “Is this a picture of you and Jennie?“

You visibly cringe. That was a picture Jennie had taken during one of your rooftop nights. It wasn’t anything too intimate, just the two of you sitting side by side, the city lights spread out behind you. Jennie had sent it to you as a reminder of the night, and at the time, it felt special, something just for you both to remember.

“How are you so calm right now? Do you realize what this means? You’ve been hanging out with Jennie Kim, and you never told me?” Lisa’s voice rises again as she shakes her head in disbelief.

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Look, it’s not exactly something I could just bring up over dinner, okay? ‘Hey, by the way, I’ve been spending nights on the rooftop with one of the most famous celebrities in the world. How’s your day?’”

She stares at you for a moment, her mouth still open, before she bursts out laughing. “Honestly, yeah, that would have been exactly the way to bring it up!”

You can’t help but laugh with her, though the tension in your chest doesn’t completely disappear. She flops onto the couch, still holding your phone, her eyes wide with amazement as she stares at the messages again.

“So, let me get this straight,” she says slowly. “You and Jennie Kim, Hollywood superstar, what? Friends? Dating? In some weird rooftop-based relationship that I clearly need all the details about?”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of the situation press down on you. “I don’t know. We spent nights talking, and yeah, we got close. But then things got complicated, and I -“ you stop yourself, the memories of pulling away from Jennie still fresh in your mind. “I don’t know what we are. I think I fumbled her.”

Lisa purses her lips, clearly sensing the conflict in your voice. “So, let me get this straight. She’s sending you these sweet, thoughtful texts, you two have clearly shared something important, and your reaction is to not respond?”

You wince. “It’s not that simple.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It’s complicated,” you repeat, your voice quieting.

She sits up, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, fine. I get it. It’s complicated. But,” she leans in, her voice turning more serious, “do you care about her?”

You hesitate, the answer lodged somewhere deep inside you, tangled up with fear and uncertainty. “Yeah,” you finally say. “I really do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Lisa says, her tone both exasperated and gentle. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. If you care about her, let her know.“

You sit in silence for a moment, processing her words because she’s somehow right.

Jennie has been reaching out to you, and you’ve been too scared to respond. Too scared of getting hurt, of what it might mean if you let yourself care this much.

Lisa, seeing the wheels turning in your head, grins and tosses your phone back to you. “I’m just saying, if you don’t respond to those messages, I will. And trust me, you don’t want me getting involved.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, I definitely don’t.”

“Okay, now, coffee and reply to her,” she demands as she heads back to the kitchen, you look down at your phone. Jennie’s messages are still there, waiting for a reply.

You open the chat, your fingers hovering over the screen, but you decide against it and put your phone back into your pocket.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Months have passed since you’d last seen Jennie on the rooftop. The silence between you is like a dull ache, made worse by the guilt you’ve been carrying for leaving her hanging without explanation. Even though she had reached out, sending you texts in the weeks following that night, you never replied.

And now, she stopped messaging altogether.

At first, you convinced yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that someone like Jennie didn’t need the confusion and the mess that came with you. She was too bright, too big for your small world.

It was better this way, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself, until you saw the photos.

One night, you’re scrolling through social media, trying to keep your mind occupied. That’s when you saw it: Jennie with Kai. Hands intertwined, walking together like the perfect Hollywood couple.

The caption under the photo read: Hollywood’s newest power couple: Jennie Kim and Kai spotted together again.

Your heart sinks as you stare at the image. There is something about seeing her with someone else, someone who fit into her world so seamlessly, that makes your breath catch in your throat. The rational part of you knew this was inevitable. You’d pushed her away, and she moved on. She has every right to.

That doesn’t stop it from hurting.

For the next few days, you read more headlines about Jennie and Kai. Every time you opened your phone, there was a new photo, a new article speculating about their relationship. The more you saw, the more the hurt settled deep into your chest. You couldn’t bear it anymore.

So, you made a decision.

When the ache became too much, you, went straight to Jennie’s contact, and deleted it. Then you went further: blocking her number, unfollowing her on every social media platform and erasing every trace of her from your life.

It feels like the only way to move on.

Days pass, and even though Jennie’s name no longer appears in your phone, the ghost of her lingers. You throw yourself into work everyday, trying to bury the feelings under deadlines and distractions. Lisa, who had been pestering you about texting Jennie back, eventually gave up, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation when you refused to talk about it anymore.

“You’re going to regret this,” Lisa warns before leaving your apartment one night, shaking her head. “You can’t just block someone out of your life like that.”

But you did. And now you’re left with the quiet, empty space that Jennie used to fill.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s not until a few days later, when Irene and Rosé show up unannounced at your apartment, that you realise things are far from over.

You’re typing away at your desk, again trying (and failing) to focus on the article you should have finished five hours ago, when there’s a loud knock at your door. Before you can even get up to answer, the door swings open, and in walks Irene and Rosé, looking far too determined and scary for your liking.

“Uh, hey?” you greet awkwardly, completely thrown off by their sudden arrival. “Is there a reason you two are barging into my apartment?”

Irene doesn’t waste any time. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe, giving you a knowing look. “We need to talk.”

Rosé steps forward, her expression much softer but equally serious. “Yeah, we’ve been worried about you.”

You frown. “Worried about me? I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Irene is sarcastic, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing great, which is why you’ve completely ghosted Jennie and blocked her on everything.”

Your stomach drops, but you try to play it off. “How do you even -“

“We’re her friends, Y/N,” Rosé cuts you off gently, sitting down on the edge of your couch. “We know. And we’ve noticed that she hasn’t been the same since -“

“Since you decided to disappear on her,” Irene finishes bluntly, cutting straight to the point. “I mean, come on. Jennie literally never shuts up about you. She hasn’t been herself, even with Kai in the picture.”

At the mention of Kai, you feel your chest tighten, the hurt bubbling back up. “I saw the photos. Jennie and Kai…they look happy. I figured she moved on. It’s for the best.”

Irene heaves out a dramatic groan, throwing her head back. “Oh my God, Y/N, that’s exactly what’s wrong. She’s not happy with Kai. It’s all for PR. She’s been miserable ever since you stopped talking to her.”

You blink, stunned by her words. “What?”

Rosé sighs this time, her eyes full of sympathy. “She’s been going through the motions, but it’s obvious she’s hurting. We can see it, even if no one else can. Jennie’s been quieter, more closed off. And trust me, it’s not because of Kai.”

“She’s still hung up on you,” Irene adds, her tone softening just a little. “She might be out there with Kai for appearances, but she’s not happy, Y/N, she seems worst than before.”

You feel the weight of their words press down on you. You didn’t think about how much your silence had hurt Jennie. You’d convinced yourself that stepping back was the right thing to do, that she was better off without you in her life.

“I just,” you trail off, running a hand through your hair. “I thought she’d moved on. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Well, congrats, you’re officially not in the way,” Irene laughs dryly. “And now she’s miserable, and you’re miserable. Great job, everyone!”

Rosé shoots her a look before turning back to you. “Y/N, you need to talk to her. She’s not okay, and I don’t think you are either.”

Looking down at your hands, your mind starts racing. You had blocked Jennie, thinking it was the only way to protect yourself and her from more hurt. But now, being cornered by Irene and Rosé, you figure that all you had done was push her away without giving either of you a chance to figure out what this really was.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper, the guilt settling deep in your chest.

Irene sighs deeply, sitting down beside Rosé on the couch. “Look, you don’t need some grand speech. Just be honest. Talk to her.”

Rosé nods in agreement. “Yeah. She misses you, Y/N. And I think you miss her too.”

You feel a lump form in your throat as their words start to sink in. They’re right - you do miss Jennie. More than you have been willing to admit. Taking a deep breath, you nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Good luck, Y/N. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The rooftop has always been your sanctuary, the one place where you can feel the world slowing down, but ever since you distanced yourself from Jennie, you couldn’t bring yourself to come back.

Tonight, something is different. There is an undeniable pull guiding you back to the place that had once brought you peace. After Irene and Rosé cornered you in your apartment, you’d been thinking about Jennie more than ever. Maybe, after all this time, it was finally time to confront your feelings and reach out to her.

As you step out onto the rooftop, the familiar chill of the night air brushes against your skin. You let out a deep breath, expecting to find the space empty like it had been for the last few weeks. But instead, you’re frozen in your tracks.

Jennie is already there.

Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, staring out at the city lights, her silhouette framed by the silver glow of the moon. For a moment, you stand there, unsure if you should stay or leave, but then Jennie turns, her eyes locking onto yours.

There is a flicker of emotions on her face; hurt, confusion and maybe even relief.

“You’re here,” she begins softly, her voice carrying through the quiet night.

You swallow hard, taking a hesitant step forward. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

She stands up slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. There is a heaviness in her expression, one you recognise all too well. “Why did you block me?” she asks, her voice strained with emotion. “Why are you pushing me out of your life, Y/N?”

The words hit you harder than you expect. You’d prepared yourself for this moment, but now that it’s here, she’s here, the guilt weighs on your chest like stones.

You take another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Jennie —”

“I thought we had something,” she stops you, her voice rising ever so slightly. “I thought we shared the same feelings. But then you just…disappeared. Did I make you feel sick?”

You can hear the hurt in her voice, and it cuts through you like a knife. You look down, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jennie. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just, I didn’t know what to do.”

She shakes her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You could have talked to me. You could have told me what you were feeling instead of just shutting me out.”

There’s a long silence as you stand there, feeling the weight of everything you had kept bottled up inside for so long. You know you owe her an explanation; an honest one this time.

“I thought you were better off without me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw you with Kai, and he fits into your world. He’s everything you need. He understands the pressure you’re under, and he can handle it. I don’t belong in your world, Jennie.”

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “Kai? Y/N, Kai was just…he was never anything serious. He doesn’t make me feel the way you do. It was my job.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the pain of the past few weeks bubbling up inside you. “But he fits. He’s a part of that life, your life. I don’t. I don’t know how to navigate your world. I’m scared of falling for you because I’ve been hurt before. Really badly. And I don’t think I can handle it if I get hurt again.”

Her expression softens, the hurt in her eyes replaced by something else, something warmer.

She took a step closer, her voice gentle but firm. “You think you’re not good enough for me? Y/N, you’re the only person I’ve ever felt like I could be myself around. The only person who makes me feel like I don’t have to be Jennie Kim. With you, I can just be Jennie.”

The vulnerability in her voice, the raw emotion, it’s all there laid out in front of you.

“I pushed you away because I didn’t feel like I deserved you,” you confess, your voice trembling. “After my last relationship, I’ve had this constant anxiety. My insomnia, everything, it’s all because I’ve been scared to let anyone in. I didn’t want to fall in love again, not after the heartbreak I went through. And with you…it feels so much bigger, so much scarier.”

She steps even closer, her eyes searching yours. “I understand,” she whispers. “I’ve been scared too. But I’m not scared of you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops at her confession. The world around you falls away as her words hangs in the air, weightless but powerful. “You’re in love with me?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving yours. “Yes. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but you shut me out. I genuinely believe that I was made for you, Y/N.”

The tears you’ve been holding back finally break free, and before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you, pulling Jennie into a tight embrace. She wraps her arms around you, holding you just as tightly, and in that moment, all the fear and anxiety you’ve been carrying melt away.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble into her shoulder, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll look after you.”

Her words soothe the ache that has been sitting in your heart for so long; creating a home for itself. You lean in, pressing your forehead against hers, wrapped in each other’s arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you feel a sense of peace. The weight you have been carrying on your shoulders begins to lift, and you know, finally, that it’s okay to let yourself fall.

“I love you too,” your voice is shaky but certain. “I’m in love with you, Jennie.”

She smiles through her tears, her eyes bright with joy. She cups your face in her hands and leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

When you pull away, she rests her head against your chest, her arms still wrapped around you. The night air is cool, but the warmth of her body against yours is keeping you grounded.

“I’m here,” she says once more, her voice barely audible. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

#kpop x reader #jennie kim imagines #blackpink imagines #blackpink x reader #kpop gg #jennie kim #blackpink

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solxamber · 7 months ago

Note

Hello again im the person who asked for the seraphim reader shshs I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING ONG😭😭😭

Im asking again if ya dont mind if you do mine again👉👈 will you do reader as that cat from caroline that always disappeared and have the same attitude as that cat (i forgot the name💔) with Jade, Azul, Jamil. Right what scenarios you can imagine dont mind T v T..

Jade, Azul, Jamil with a 'The Cat'! Reader

hi! thanks for the request <3 (also the cat doesn't have a name iirc, isn't he just "the cat"?)

Jade Leech

Jade, with his poised and enigmatic demeanor, actually enjoys your elusive nature—but that doesn’t mean he’s not intrigued by it. Whenever you slip away from conversations, he’s one of the few who doesn’t immediately react, just giving you a knowing look. He catches on quickly that your disappearances are deliberate, and he plays along, responding with subtle jabs that mirror your own humor.

"I do wonder, where have you been lurking this time? The ceiling? The rafters?" Jade’s tone is teasing, his eyes twinkling like he’s in on a private joke only the two of you share.

You appear behind him without a sound, leaning close enough to whisper, “Maybe I never left.”

Jade doesn’t flinch—he’s used to your antics by now—but there’s a slight quirk of his eyebrow that tells you you’ve gotten under his skin just enough. “Careful, or I might follow next time.”

“If you can,” you reply, your voice full of that Cheshire-like amusement, before disappearing again—though you know he’ll catch up soon enough.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul finds your habit of appearing and disappearing at will infuriatingly fascinating. You’re always there when he least expects it, often chiming in with sarcastic remarks that leave him rattled. As the sharp, business-minded octopus he is, he tries his best to maintain control in any situation. But with you, his usual composure is constantly tested.

One day, you’re lounging lazily across his desk, legs swinging off the edge, watching him fumble through contracts. “Careful, Azul. Miss a clause, and it’s your soul next.”

Azul nearly jumps out of his chair, gripping his quill a little too tightly. “How did you get in here? This office is private!”

You simply grin, your voice smooth. “Doors are for people who can’t make their own entrances.”

He huffs, straightening his glasses. “If you’re here to disrupt my business, you’ll need to schedule an appointment like everyone else.”

“Or,” you say, your figure already fading into thin air as you lazily wave a hand, “I’ll just pop in when it’s most inconvenient.”

Azul groans, but you know deep down he’s already thinking of ways to turn your strange talent into a profitable venture.

Jamil Viper

Jamil is hard to surprise, but you’ve perfected the art of doing just that. No matter how calculated his moves are, you always manage to show up when he’s most stressed, casually inserting yourself into the situation with a smug, knowing look that drives him mad.

One evening, while Jamil is in the middle of strategizing, you suddenly appear on the counter, legs crossed, watching him as if you’ve been there the entire time. “Why so tense, Viper? Afraid someone might be... watching?”

Jamil freezes for half a second, then glares at you. “I knew you were there. You’re just trying to unsettle me.”

You grin wider, stretching like a lazy feline. “If you knew, you wouldn’t look so rattled. You humans are always so easy to predict.”

He sighs, clearly not in the mood for your games, but there’s a flicker of exasperated fondness in his eyes. “If you’re not here to help, at least don’t get in my way.”

You disappear once more, your voice echoing behind. “Maybe I’m helping more than you realize.”

Jamil shakes his head but smirks slightly, knowing you’ll pop up again at the worst possible time. He’s already preparing for it, even if he knows you’ll always keep him on his toes.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #jade leech #jade #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil #jamil viper

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pixiexdusts-world · 2 months ago

Text

Safe haven

Hwang Jun-ho x reader

Summary: Jun-ho’s girlfriend helps him escape work for a rare moment of peace and warmth.

Word count: 589

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The city outside was restless—sirens in the distance, car horns blaring, the occasional shout drifting up from the streets below. But inside our apartment, everything was quiet, warm. Safe.

Hwang Jun-ho sat at the kitchen table, his head slightly bowed as he scrolled through case files on his phone. His dark eyes flicked back and forth across the screen, his fingers resting near the untouched cup of tea I had made him. He probably hadn’t even noticed it was there.

I leaned against the counter, watching him with a small smile. “You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be off duty, you’re really bad at relaxing.”

His lips twitched slightly, the closest thing to a smirk. “This is me relaxing.”

I scoffed, pushing off the counter and walking over to him. “Right, because nothing says ‘cozy night in’ like crime scene reports.” Before he could react, I plucked the phone from his hands and set it face-down on the table. “For one night, just be here. With me.”

Jun-ho sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He was always like this—restless, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, never fully letting himself breathe. But he let me pull him back, time and time again.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was no bite in his voice.

“And you love me for it,” I shot back, mirroring the smirk he always gave me.

He shook his head, exhaling a quiet chuckle as I walked over to the couch, curling up under the thick knit blanket. After a moment, I heard him get up, the chair scraping softly against the floor before he crossed the room and sat beside me.

I leaned into him without a second thought, resting my head against his shoulder. He was warm, solid. He hesitated for just a second—always so careful, so controlled—before he let out a breath and wrapped an arm around me.

For a while, we just sat there, the only sounds coming from the soft rain tapping against the window. I traced lazy circles on the back of his hand, feeling the slight roughness of his skin, the callouses from years of gripping a gun, chasing ghosts through the streets.

“You work too hard,” I murmured.

He hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t argue. That was the closest I was going to get to a confession.

“Sometimes I wonder what you even see in me,” he admitted after a long silence. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

I lifted my head, frowning. “What kind of question is that?”

He didn’t look at me, just stared ahead, his expression unreadable. “I disappear for days, sometimes weeks. I bring my work home when I shouldn’t. I—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “You deserve better than this.”

I studied him for a moment, my chest tightening. This was the part of Jun-ho no one else got to see—the man who carried too much, who believed he had to bear everything alone.

Gently, I reached for his face, guiding him to look at me. “I don’t want ‘better.’ I want you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“I don’t say it enough,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to.” I smiled, tilting my head until our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss.

The weight he carried didn’t disappear, but for now, at least, he let me hold some of it with him.

#squid game #squid game season 1 #squid game season 2 #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader #squid game x you #hwang jun ho x y/n #hwang jun ho x you #hwang jun ho x reader #jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho #jun ho squid game

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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago

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would love more oscar with pregnant reader, just like rlly fluffy and cute, maybe like a babymoon type situation ?? 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Cw: reader is pregnant

"Pool or beach?", Oscar asked as he saw you put on your maternity bikini, adjusting the band around your bump.

After careful consideration from both you and Oscar, you realised that your babymoon would be better spent in a sunny european location with a beach. It would mean you had quick access to care if you needed it, you were close to home if anything happened and you'd be able to relax without having to out much more of a strain on your body, saving the hiking plans for another time.

"I'd really like to read by the pool", you offered, looking out at the villa's pool by the barbecue and outside lounging area.

"Okay", was all your husband said before he started bringing your things outside while you strutted in front of him.

Maybe it was a little carnal to feel like this, but he couldn't help himself - his wife, the love of his life, was carrying their baby and you looked beautiful doing it. Your body was the amazing, safe home for you baby and he welcomed all of the changes it brought, often reminding you in front of the mirror just how much he did.

"I know it's a little warm out, but I'd like a cuddle", you mused, smiling when Oscar pulled you into his lap, his hands going around your waist as rubbing your baby bump as he kissed your shoulder.

"I'm good with it, but we need sun protection", he asserted, getting the bottle and starting to apply the product on your skin, littering kisses along your back and chest before he was face to face with you, "hello, beautiful", he kissed your lips.

"Hey, Osc", you blushed at the attention he was giving you, kissing his lips again before getting the bottle from his hands, "my turn now", you smiled.

Moments of intimacy hadn't ceased to exist - Oscar never failed to make you feel special -, but they had a different look nowadays, like this one. Your hands worked on your husband's muscles, caressing the skin and enjoying how he reacted to your touches before you set the bottle down, "all done".

Laying down comfortably in his embrace, Oscar mused about his thoughts when he noticed you weren't reading yet, "do you think the baby will look like me or like you? I'm partial to them looking like you", he admitted.

"I think your genes will take over mine on a few things", you mumbled, "but maybe he could have my curly hair, your eyes, because they're very pretty".

"He could have your chubby cheeks - your mother sent me a few pictures last week when she was looking through your baby stuff and I melted, Y/N", Oscar admitted as he touched your face lightly.

"He's going to be a very handsome boy, just like his daddy", you put your hand on top of the one Oscar had on your bump.

"And very kind, beautiful, thoughtful like mummy", he kissed your neck, "I can't wait to be a parents with you, my love".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#oscar piastri blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago

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Okay, this post is not based on a request. I kept thinking about it for hours and finally decided to write it down: how the OP characters would text their s/o. So here are some texting headcanons for some of my favorite characters: Eustass Kid, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Sabo. I'll probably write a part 2 with my other beloved characters: Luffy, Marco, Killer, and Robin. :D

☆Texting HCs for Kid, Law, Sanji, Zoro & Sabo

CW : g/n reader, MDNI, Kid is cursing, fluff, funny, partly nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro

WC : 2k

Kid

Your name/photo in his contacts: mine. With a photo of your ass, obviously. And when he's mad at you, he renames you mid(ge).

Such a brat.

His wallpaper: a cool photo of his motorbike (I'm sorry but Kid is that kind of man in love with his own bike/car. But it's okay, he's still my favorite.) Or, a pic of your ass.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery: your ass, random photos of your face when he’s teasing you, his bike, and some punk stuff (music, makeup, outfit etc.)

His fav emoji : none.

He likes to send really, really shorts messages. Like :

"Hi" "u know" "i have an idea" "So listen:"

Goddam Kid, just write the WHOLE sentence in one message.

He's sending you random pictures of his torso, just to flex with his big tiddies.

And you have to respond with a heart emoji and praise him each time.

If you want, he's more than willing to send dick pick too.

Again, you have to praise him. Even if the pictures are absolutely non-aesthetic. He's blessing you with his cock after all.

"Babe, you don't know how to take beautiful pics of your dick." "WTF SHUT UP???????? It's MY dick???!!! OF COURSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL??!!!"

Yeah, Kid is clearly using extra punctuation.

Oh, sure, each morning, you receive a mirror selfie of his outfit of the day. Such a punk fashion icon. "Rate my outfit on a scale of amazing to amazing"

He doesn't use emojis because they sound too soft and stupid. "em0teS aRe f0r s0fT b0ys Y/N"

If you complain about his messages looking cold, he might use random emotes to annoy you like "UgH iF U wAnt 🦬" (with that stupid dumb sponge bob meme)

Whenever he calls you, it seems like he's yelling through the phone.

He likes using caps lock like "HEY Y/N, WANNA FUCK TONIGHT??????"

He's sending you random punk/rock music. And you have to listen and react to every single music, otherwise he's so pissed off. He is sharing his world with you, the less you can do is interact with him.

He also loves sending some pics of what he's working on, because Kid likes to repare/custom some cars or motorbike.

And last thing, I like the idea of Kid Pirates being a punk music band, so sure, Kid loves to send you some videos of him playing guitar. "My fingers are skilled in three things : music, crafting and fingering you all the fucking day long"

His phone is so damaged because he throws it every time he gets angry (like every two minutes).

Law

Your name/photo in his contacts: y/n-ya. With a cursed picture of you. Just to tease you with it.

His wallpaper: nothing, just the random by default home screen. In his view, wallpapers are useless and pointless.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery: random pictures you took of him, emo memes, and boring stuff about medicine or basic hygiene rules for Luffy. And a guide to "how to stop screaming and how to control your anger: a guide for children" for Kid.

His favorite emoji: 🖕🏻

Whenever you annoy him with a stupid joke or a prank you saw on TikTok, his immediate reaction is to block you. He's so annoyed, please, leave him alone. He is immediately aware that it is a prank. Luffy always does the same to him before you do.

He's never using capital, it's for the emo aesthetic, like 'I hate bread'. Nope. But ✨"i hate bread."✨, yeah, much better

And yes, he uses "." everytime, it's for the dark and tired emo aesthetic.

He always leaves a group conversation as soon as you include him. Please, he's so pissed off by those kinds of things.

He's able to leave your message seen for days. Just because he was busy and forgot about what you said. If you need an answer, sure, try to call him. He always keeps his phone in silent mode.

He likes to send you cool articles that he reads. Especially about medicine, tattoos or nerd stuff like movies, books, games etc.

"wanna go to a date tattoo with me tomorrow?"

That kind of question is clearly his love language

He enjoys teasing you with random photos of his tattooed fingers or chest. "I bet you miss these fingers." And yeah, he's clearing curling his fingers on the pic like he would do when they are inside you. He's really good at teasing you with photos.

Kid and Luffy steal his phone whenever he's with them. So be ready to receive a lot of ugly pictures of Law (taken by the chaotic duo), middle fingers from Kid, and blurry meat pictures from Luffy.

Poor Law deserves a break.

Sanji

Your name/photos in his contacts : 💗💘🛐Mon Amour (my love)🛐💘💗 With the most beautiful picture of you.

His wallpaper : a cute couple photo.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery : a lot of cooking videos or photos, you, aesthetic pic of the sky and a private album with some hot nudes that you sent to him.

His favorites emojis : 💘💗💖🛐💍🧎🌺🌸🌹🫦🥰😘🧑🏻‍🍳🍽🍷🥘 (yeah, Sanji LOVES emojis)

He's always texting you back. If he can't reply within a second, he won't open the text. Sanji, leaving his beautiful s/o with that awful "seen"? Never.

All the mornings "good morning sweetheart 💘" and all the evenings "sleep well sweetheart, dream about me 💖"

He wants to take a cute and aesthetic pic of the both of you all the days.

He bombards you with pictures of his cooking. It's cute, but also annoying because he can't help but send extra long texts. He describes every single action he did, along with recipes and tips.

He enjoys seeing your outfit of the day. He can attempt to match his clothes to yours.

Random "I love you 💖" and "if no one told you you were pretty today : you're the prettiest 🥰"

He enjoys sending you cooking videos. "We should eat this tonight. What do you think? 🧑🏻‍🍳"

He's pretty good at sexting. He knows how to take aesthetic photo of his hands, back, or mouth. Not just an ugly dick pick (Kid, Zoro, I'm looking at you). And he also likes to leave you some message like.

I would sit you down on this table if you were with me right now. You know, the one in your kitchen where he had dinner with your parents yesterday? I would gently kiss your neck, fondle your chest, and slowly kneel between your legs until you shout my name. You would pull on my hair, begging me to keep going until you cum repeatedly on my face. 👅 "

And if you send him a nude, well, he's going to die from a nosebleed.

Rest in peace, Sanji.

Zoro

Your name/photos in his contacts : "y/n". You pick a picture for him because Zoro and phones are not compatible.

His wallpaper : a cool katana

What kind of pictures in his gallery : gym selfies, katanas and alcohol (all with ugly quality)

His fav emojis : 👍🏻 and 😴 Like:

"hey Zoro, you're alright" 👍🏻

"Zoro, wanna hang out?" 😴

"Babe, what are you doing?" 😴

"… am i annoying you?" 👍🏻

He can responds to absolutely anything with those two emojis.

Zero is so oblivious, so let's be honest: he is not good at using phones. Almost every day, he forgets his phone at home. And even if he didn't forget about it, it's probably on silent mode or just off.

He doesn’t know how to use the keyboard, so prepare yourself for coded-message like "o!. @= sp⛑t t🧹day???/!df🆎e !!"He can't even use the excuse "my cat walked on my keyboard", he just sucks with technology.

Your messages are often "seen ✔️" and that's all. Not because he wants to be mean, just... he didn't understand the concept of answering every text. He takes all of your messages as random information. Like "Hey, I'd love to see you tonight!". Well. OK. Message understood. That's all.

The only application he has on his phone is Google Maps. Even with it, he still gets lost. "Turn left." Without a doubt, he turns right.

Once, he tried to please you with a dick pic. But the photo was just terrible: bad luminosity, an ugly close-up of his cock, blurred as fuck, and you can see the dirty tissue behind him.

He doesn't answer when you call him because he's either asleep or at the gym (or drunk).

Once, he also tried to send you a voice message, but it was just the sound of the wind. He forgot to talk closer to the microphone.

Sabo

Your name/photos in his contacts : "my revolutionary 🎩💛". With a beautiful pic of your smiling face.

His wallpaper : a symbol of revolution.

What kind of pictures in his gallery : petition screenshots, his brothers, you, anti-capitalist memes and a private album with some hot pic of you (naughty Sabo)

His fav emojis : 🔥✨🖕🏻💛✊🏻😡😏😎🤩👉🏻👌🏻🫵🏻

Sabo is... complicate. Sometimes, he doesn't answer for WEEKS. And sometimes he's extra chatty. And when he's chatty well...

Sabo is always spamming you with petition links. "Save the dolphins", "save the monkeys", "fuck capitalism", "for the resignation of *insert random politician name*"

"Hey sweetheart, manifestation tomorrow. See you there!! 🫵🏻"

When it's not petitions, it's probably videos or articles. Sabo is a pure revolutionary. Be prepared to receive lengthy texts when he wants to fight for a cause. It's cute, honestly. He's really involved and passionate.

"You, me, on a trip tomorrow?! 😏"

Sabo has a knack for surprising you with trips, so prepare yourself. This man craves adventure and surprises. He wants you to join his crazy journey.

Sometimes, he's using proper grammar and punctuation, sometimes he's using a lot of !!!!!!!!??????? And caps lock. Especially when he's furious about something. He makes a lot of typo errors because he's always in a rush while typing.

Let's fught *figrt *fijkt *FUCK *LET'S FIGHT (and fuck)

He enjoys taking pictures of you unexpectedly because it makes you seem more natural.

"So… sweetheart… we have a new roommate" with a cute pic of a dog/frog/duck/snail/whatever. Sabo has a kind heart. If he sees a wounded or abandoned animal, he feels obliged to adopt it.

And regarding spicy texts…

Sabo is a kinky boy. So sure, he's thirsty when it comes to sexting/nudes. As a revolutionary, he is also very careful. He always asks you first before sending you nude or spicy texts. If you're willing, then prepare yourself.

A bunch of nudes. Since he's good with them, he won't display his dick in a weird and unattractive angle to you. He enjoys showing you his hands when he's wearing his gloves. Or a mirror photo of his back.

"I know you will scratch it when I'll fuck you tonight 😏"

You're not forced to send him nude or spicy texts back. He respects your boundaries without exception. And if you send him a photo anyway, he's also really nice. Always a comment like "your ass is soooooo good with this angle. I can't believe I'm that lucky 🥵" and if he wants to save a photo for his collection, he's always asking if it's okay with you.

"Sweetie, i have a new toy for you… 💛"

We all know what he's talking about. Naughty Sabo.

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 5 months ago

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Wicked

pairing: drew starkey x f! girlfriend reader

The sunlight streamed through the windows of the apartment Drew shared with Y/N. It was a rare day off for him, and he’d just gotten back from the gym, sweaty and ready to take a shower, when he heard her voice echoing through the hall. The sound froze him in his tracks.

“Something has changed within me, something is not the same…”

Her voice, powerful and unwavering, carried through the apartment, accompanied by the distant clatter of dishes and the hum of the vacuum. He followed the sound, his curiosity piqued, until he peeked around the corner to find her in one of his old T-shirts, her hair in a messy bun, completely lost in the song.

“I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game!”

Y/N belted the lyrics to “Defying Gravity,” a kitchen rag in one hand as she swept across the living room, cleaning as though it were a Broadway stage. Drew leaned against the doorframe, smirking as he watched her. Her passion, her confidence, the way she poured her heart into every note God, he loved her.

When she reached the final, soaring note, he clapped loudly, startling her. She whipped around, wide-eyed, her cheeks flushing pink.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, flustered but grinning.

“Long enough to know you’re definitely getting that part,” he teased, walking toward her.

“Drew! don’t jinx it!” she scolded, though her smile remained. She had auditioned for the role of Elphaba weeks ago, and it was all she could think about.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m serious, baby. You’ve got it. No one could sing like that and not get the part.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled. “I really hope you’re right.”

When they got home, the celebration continued in a much more private way.

The call came two days later.

Y/N was pacing the living room, her phone pressed tightly to her ear as Drew sat on the couch, trying to decipher her expressions. Then, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.

“Wait, really? I got it? I thank you! Oh my God, thank you!”

She hung up the phone and stared at drew, her hands trembling.

“Well?” he prompted, though he already knew the answer from her reaction.

“I GOT THE PART!” she screamed, jumping up and down. “I’m going to be Elphaba! And and Ariana Grande is playing Glinda!”

Drew barely had time to react before she leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as she buried her face in his neck. He spun her around, laughing at her joy.

“I told you, didn’t I? I knew it!” he said, holding her close.

They celebrated that night with a fancy dinner at her favorite restaurant, toasting to her success. She couldn’t stop smiling, her excitement radiating off her in waves. Drew had never been prouder.

Drew kissed her deeply as soon as they stepped into the bedroom, his hands sliding down her back to grip her thighs. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he murmured against her lips.

Her breath hitched as he pushed her toward the full-length mirror in their bedroom. “You’re incredible, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

He guided her hands to the mirror as he stood behind her, pressing kisses along her neck. Slowly, he undressed her, leaving her bare in front of the reflection. His hands roamed her body, his touch igniting her skin as he whispered praises in her ear.

When he entered her from behind, her moan echoed through the room, her eyes locking with his in the mirror. Watching herself come undone in his arms, seeing the intensity in his gaze as he moved inside her, made the moment even more electrifying.

“You’re perfect,” Drew rasped, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful, so talented, and all mine.”

Y/N clung to the edge of the mirror for support, her body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her. Drew didn’t let up until she was completely spent, her forehead resting against the cool glass as she caught her breath.

Afterward, he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her forehead tenderly. “You’re going to be the best Elphaba the worlds ever seen,” he said, his voice full of love and certainty.

And as Y/N drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but think she was the luckiest woman in the world to have her dream role and a man who believed in her every step of the way.

The night of the premiere was electric. The theater buzzed with excitement as celebrities, critics, and fans filled the seats, eager to witness the debut of the highly anticipated production. Drew sat in the front row, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked up at the grand stage. His girlfriend, his Y/N was about to take the stage as Elphaba, performing alongside Ariana Grande as Glinda.

He couldn’t believe how far she had come. From belting out show tunes while cleaning their apartment to landing the role of a lifetime, Y/N had poured every ounce of her heart and soul into this moment. And now, here she was.

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the audience. The music swelled, and Drew’s breath hitched as Y/N stepped onto the stage, painted green, dressed in Elphaba’s iconic black dress and hat. She radiated confidence, her voice commanding the room as she began to sing.

By the time the show reached its climax Defying Gravity, Drew was gripping the armrests of his chair. The stage was bathed in light, and Y/N and Ariana stood side by side, their voices weaving together in perfect harmony.

“So if you care to find me, look to the western sky…” Y/N sang, her voice soaring.

The audience was captivated, but Drew’s focus was solely on her. Her voice was breathtaking, full of raw emotion and power. As the song built to its crescendo, Y/N stepped forward for her solo moment, the orchestra quieting as the spotlight focused solely on her.

For a brief second, Drew could see her nerves flicker. This was her first time singing live in front of such a massive audience. But then, her gaze found his.

He mouthed the words, I love you.

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small, confident smile tugging at her lips. Taking a deep breath, she launched into the final, soaring note of the song.

“And nobody in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is ever gonna bring me down!”

Her voice filled the theater, resonating with a strength that left the audience spellbound. Drew felt tears streaming down his cheeks as the final note lingered in the air, followed by a beat of stunned silence. Then, the entire theater erupted in applause, a standing ovation sweeping through the room.

Drew stood too, clapping so hard his hands hurt, tears blurring his vision as he watched Y/N bask in the moment. She glanced at him from the stage, her eyes shimmering with joy, and mouthed back, I love you.

As the curtain fell, Drew knew this moment would be etched in his heart forever. She had done it. She had defied every odd, every doubt, and soared to unimaginable heights.

That night, as they celebrated together, Drew held her close and whispered, “You were born for this.” And she believed it, because with Drew’s unwavering love and support, she truly felt unstoppable.

#drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x f! reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x reader #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron

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mommypieck · 1 year ago

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⌗︙・connie touching you for the first time ⸜⸜・

his fingers spread your folds and you catch him moan when he sees your pussy. you're sitting in between connie's legs in front of a mirror while he teaches you how to properly touch yourself. you and connie never really fucked before, only occasional make out sessions so this is the first time he touched you down there.

"you're so pretty." he says as his finger circles your little clit. you arch your back against his front, earning a chuckle from him.

"it feels good, right?" you nod, the way he's touching you is way better than when you do it. suddenly he cups your whole pussy with his hand.

"this is all mine." he says, slapping your cunt lightly. he's proud to have a girlfriend like you with pretty face and pretty pussy.

"i can't wait to eat you out." connie tells you but he stops all of his movements. you want to ask him what's wrong but then you see it, his fingers are soaked in your juices.

"did you get wet because of the slaps?" he asks you, "does my girl like having her pussy slapped?"

you don't know what to answer, but it's true, you weren't so soaked before.

"im touching my baby for the first time and she gets wet when i am rough. does she want my cock right in her cunt? so she can get even wetter when i fuck into her rough and fast?"

his words are making your head spin and your pussy is reacting to them too. connie sees how you twitch in his lap and he decides to give you a little more. his fingers get back on your clit and he rubs it fastly. he's not gentle with how he plays with you and within few seconds, you are cumming on his fingers. you nor connie have never thought that the first time he would make you cum, would look like this.

"so what have we learned? my love loves when i slap her pussy and when i dirty talk to her. hmmm, we are gonna use it later."

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #connie springer x reader #connie smut #connie springer smut #connie springer x you

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juliewillruinu · 8 months ago

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"One Last Time" | Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Pov: You're being married off by your clan which caused you to distance yourself from Toji, but how will you react to finding out he is also being arranged to marry another woman?

18+ MDNI

Dom Toji x fem!reader, smut, P in V, no protection, overflowing cum, slight degrading, cheating (kinda, but not really), ass smacking, and a bit of fingering. (I do not own the artwork above.)

You promised yourself you wouldn't see him again. That your eyes would never meet his.

You promised yourself that you'd live a good life without him. You didn't need him any longer.

You promised yourself to do what was best for your clan. They were your priority.

You promised yourself that you'd be happy with your future husband. You'd learn to love him.

You smiled whenever someone mentioned the name of your fiance, a man, not named Toji. A man you've never met in person. You'd tell them, "I know I'll be happy with him. I've heard so many good things about him."

Everything was sunshine and rainbows until you heard the news that Toji was to be marry into another clan. You acted as if you were fine with it but you were not. Toji was yours. Your family could sell you off to another clan all they wanted, but to know that while you were gone another woman would keep him company, take over your role in his life, it saddened you, it pissed you off, it made you want to strangle yourself. You spent nights crying yourself to sleep. What were you going to do? Was there anything you could do? You could only choose family or love. In this time and age, you couldn't dare have both.

You promised yourself you'd never let his skin grace yours again.

Yet, here you are. Crying in Toji's arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck as his back is rested against the wall of your room. He entered carefully and quietly through your window. He heard how you shut yourself away recently, he knew why. He knew he had to comfort you. One last time.

You told him, "I can be without you, Toji."

"You told me you didn't need me."

You pulled away to bore your red orbs into his and spoke hastily. "I lied! I do need you so don't marry that woman. Don't hurt me like this anymore."

Toji yanked your chin, drawing your face close to his. In that moment, you saw an intensity in his eyes that was unlike anything you had ever witnessed before. His usual demeanor, so often marked by indifference and a seemingly impenetrable exterior, was shattered. The anger and vulnerability in his gaze revealed a depth of emotion you had never seen in him.

He had always seemed untouchable, as though nothing could truly affect him. But now, with you so close, everything was different. You were the only person who had ever seen beyond his Zenin lineage, who had looked at him not as a member of a powerful clan but simply as Toji. The memory of your words, "You're not a Zenin to me. I see you as just Toji," echoed in his mind, a poignant reminder of the rare connection you shared.

"You're not the only one who feels hurt by this. Do you think I like the idea of another man having his lips against yours?" His lips were dangerously close to yours. It made you shiver in anticipation. "Do you think I want him to touch what is mine? Just knowing you'll spend your wedding night with him makes me want to rip his head off. I can't let you go like that."

"Then don't." You said almost pleading. "Don't let him take me away, Toji."

"Do you think he could fuck you this good, huh? I know all your weak spots. He'd be an amateur compared to me. Don't you think?"

"...yes, yes, yes..."

Your moans filled the room as you watched how mercilessly Toji was fucking you through your vanity mirror. His eyes scrunched close as his hand held one of your wrists down and held your hand in his other. His large, vainy cock had you stretched out, vigorously entering to hit your vulnerable spots and your insides, sucking him right back in when he pulled back. Sweat glistened off both your bodies as the force he was using was causing your bed to shake. The heavy storm outside kept your screams from being heard by the servants who might be walking around during these late hours. Toji kept his promise when he told you that'd he'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for your wedding.

Red love bites were left on your neck and breasts while you returned the favor by leaving faint scratch marks on his chest and back and teeth marks on his shoulders.

You hissed as Toji's tip pounded against the one spot you enjoyed the most. You were close again. Just a little longer and you'd melt for him again. Toji must have gotten the message as his eyes fluttered open before making contact with yours through the mirror. You could see a mischievous smirk grow on his face. He could feel your insides slowly clamping down on his cock, almost ready to rip it off him.

"Who gave you permission to come yet?" Before you had a chance to answer, Toji had already pulled his cock out causing a slight "pop" noise to occur. His cum from previous rounds began to ooze out of you now that there wasn't anything to keep it inside. It practically left you whining.

"Don't take it out. I was s'close."

"Naughty girl, you have no shame do you? Tomorrow you'll be someone's wife and here you are drooling for your lovers cock?"

He took his teasing further and inserted his index finger which he pumped back and forth against your walls. He wouldn't even give you at least two fingers, not that it would have been enough to help you finish, but it would give much better results than one finger and Toji knew this well.

"Toji, put it back in...please."

"Do you want it that bad?" You nodded frantically. "Then go ahead take it. Milk it, make yourself cum on it, but you'll be the one doing all the work."

You sat up seeing Toji lay his scratched back against the bed before getting on top of him with your shaking legs. You weren't used to being on top and his posture made it seem as if he'd have you do all the work, but you didn't mind. If he was allowed to prove to you that no man could fuck you the way he could, it was only right to prove to him that no woman would ever be good enough for him unless it was you.

One of his hands traveled up your thigh, fingers caressing your supple skin while the other attempted to align his cock to your entrance. His hand went to your hips, ready to help ease you down on it only to be met by your boldness as you slammed yourself down on his thick length. He threw his head back, grunting as your insides molded around him perfectly causing his cock to pulsate in excitement. His large hands gripped each side of your bum, begging for you to move already. You placed your hands on his toned stomach to keep yourself balanced and began to move up and down. You took your precious time, taking it nice and slow. Toji shouldn't be the only one allowed to tease.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

"Teaching you a lesson from earlier."

"Ah!"

He growled giving your ass a hard smack that left a burning sensation, "don't be a brat."

'You're the one acting like one,' you said to yourself before you picked up the pace. Each time you move down his cock the skin of your bum and his shaft made loud slapping noises that left his gulping.

"Fuck, just like, princess. So fucking tight. You like that don't you?"

You met another slap on your ass when you didn't respond fast enough.

"Yes! It's the best, Toji! It's so fucking good!"

The bed creaked underneath the both of you, his cock hitting every spot imaginable. You could feel his cock start to swell, he was close just as were you. He pulled you down against his chest, wrapping a arm around you waist to keep you attached to him while his other hand pushed down on your bum as he jerks his hips up. There's no doubt about it. You were so cock drunk that even your moans sounded incoherent. It felt like your mind was elsewhere while the center of your stomach tightened.

His hot breath brushed against your skin, "Tell me who you love. Come on, tell me, little whore."

"You! I love you! Fuck, Toji. I love you." He hungrily smashed his lips against yours giving you no time to breathe. His tongue wrestling against yours, seeking for its submission to him. You fisted at the pillows near his head as his cock was destroying your insides. Your thoughts only focused on Toji as he nipped at your bottom lip.

"I can't hold it anymore~"

"Fuck, me too. Come on, princess. Give it to me and I'll reward you."

Toji, in the throes of passion, drives his hips firmly against you one last time. His release is powerful, filling you with a warm, thick sensation as his cum spreads inside you. You feel him pulse and release, the heat and pressure intensifying as he finishes.

As he remains inside you, the sensation of his cum beginning to overflow adds a heightened sense of fullness. Your body responds instinctively, your lower body jolting slightly as the sensation of his release overwhelms you. The tightness in your stomach starts to ease, replaced by a warm, satisfying relaxation.

•••

You and Toji laid sideway near each other, your bodies hidden underneath the silk sheets. You could feel his warm lips press against your head as you buried your face in his chest. His strong hand move up and down your back. His touch, his scent his breathing, they were all so comforting. How could you possible live without this man?

"Toji, let's run away. Tonight. Just me and you. Let's never come back here." Your spoke with a straight face, Toji rested his chin over your head, chuckling at your serious tone.

"What about your clan, hmm?"

"..Screw them.."

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igotanidea · 5 months ago

Text

Three times: Bruce Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo: Family dinner

(I guess this is what happens when I call myself out on not doing the event I planned XD. As always - sorry for typos, grammar etc. - not proofread this just kind of happened in less then an hour, so - )

***

“This is going to be a mess.”

“It’s not going to-“

“You don’t know them-“.

“I think I’ve stalked your boys enough to –“

“Y/N.”

“Bruce”

“This is-“

“Oh, come on, just relax and – Oh, for God’s sake gimme that”.

She stepped in front of him, successfully blocking him from seeing his reflection in the mirror. He was doing a terrible job at doing his own bowtie. The fearless, emotionless Batman, the dark shadow over every criminal in Gotham had shaking fingers because his girlfriend was to attend the family dinner with all his sons.

AKA – the mess with his sons.

“Remind me whose idea was it, again?”

“Mine. Duh.” She send him her most beautiful smile, deftly putting the finishing touches to his look.

“Yeah… right. No one else in their sound mind would have come out with that.” He muttered.

“Did I mention you look extremely handsome tonight?” Her sudden change of a subject made Bruce blush like a schoolboy in a way that couldn’t; be hidden from her watchful gaze.

“You know you’re supposed to say I look beautiful or something like that, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you really that worried, hon?”

“Worried? Who, me? I’m not worried.” Bruce scoffed. Externally to put up a front and internally – because she was so damn right. Poor Y/N had zero idea what she was getting herself into.

“I got contingencies – “

“mhm.” Right, she wouldn’t even imagine the scope of contingencies that would have to be of use when his four boys see each other in the dining room.

“I got tranquilizer for Jason, lollipops for Dick, sleeping pills for Tim and a puppy for Damian.”

“You- what?”

“I got-“

“I heard you the first time, Y/N.”

“Then why-?”

“Lollipops?”

“What? Low blood sugar is not good for any athlete.”

“Dick is not an athlete. And no- “ he cut her off – “hanging out from the chandelier is not an Olympic discipline, Y/N.”

“Well then, in the worst case scenario, we’ll give him a mirror.”

“What, you hope he’d turn into a stone from looking into his own eyes?”

She tilted head looking at him carefully.

“I knew you had a walking dead in the family, but you never mentioned the Medusa”

“If you survive this, you’ll be much better then Perseus, sweetheart.” Bruce kissed the top of her head, praying to whoever was listening that she wouldn’t run out of the manor screaming the first fifteen minutes into the dinner.

***

Five minutes.

It took Dick five minutes to ruin everything.

Out of all of his sons, Bruce was hoping that the first-adopted one would keep a better track record.

Instead, he whistled.

He freaking whistled upon seeing her.

And it took a hell lot of Bruce’s self-control to not strangle him.

And then there was Jason.

Sitting in the corner, arms crossed, stern look on his face, cutting his meat in a way that might as well crash the entire plate.

With a wild look in his eyes, not saying a single word, almost freezing the steaming dinner.

Causing Bruce to start sipping his drink a little faster than intended.

And Tim-

Propped on the elbow, head on the palm, dozing off, almost snoring and almost ending up with his nose in the mashed potatoes.

But Damian turned out to be the worst of them all.

Which probably should have been expected, considering the fact that he was the least aware of the societal norms.

“You’re not a good match for father.”

Bruce choked, Dick laughed and Jason snapped his eyes towards Y/N to see her reaction.

Y/N didn’t react, focusing on chewing.

The atmosphere was becoming a little tense yet no one made any attempt of filling the silence with words.

“I said-“

“I heard.”

Then came the silence again.

“And you’re just gonna-“

“Yeah, I’m just gonna ignore you.”

This was unexpected.

Damian was definitely not used to being treated like this.

And he was not going to tolerate being treated like this.

Who the hell did this girl think she was?!

“You are-!“

“Oh, by all means, do tell me who you think I am.” She snapped and with a mocking smirk looked right into Damian’s eyes, still having in mind that he was just a kid. Being too mean or too harsh was not an option but putting him down a peg or two could be.

“You are-“ Damian started

“Mean?”

“Um-“

“Harsh-“

“I want-“

“Quick – witted?”

“Will you-“

“Not-taking-bullshit kinda girl?”

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH!?”

“I gotta give to you Damian, you are very perceptive.”

“You are mocking me now.”

“Again. Perceptive.”

As she refused to back down, showing her innate stubbornness and strength, a tiny smirk formed on Jason’s lips and disappeared as soon as the second son noticed Dick staring at him.

“stop staring Dickhead!”

“I’m not staring.”

“you are impressed with her, aren’t you?”

“Like hell I am impressed!” this came out of jason’s mouth a little louder than aimed at and obviously everyone heard. “I’m not!” he objected, almost defensively.

“good. Good cause I would lose my sympathy towards you if you were impressed by me so easily, Jason.”

“I – wait, what?”

“Come on, a girl gotta work for it, doesn’t she? Clearly you all think I’m some sort of gold digger?”

“I don’t-!” Dick cried out in confusion

“Mhm. You don’t, Richard. And yet, you had me checked out the second you saw me, didn’t you?”

Dick blushed, being called out like this.

“What is going on…?” Tim muttered, slowly awakening from his slumber due to the screaming match at the table.

“Bet you also believe I got zero worth and less than zero skills to be dating Batman, huh?”

“SHE KNOWS!?” Tim suddenly became awfully awake, as four pair of eyes landed on Bruce, than on Y/N, than on Bruce again with Tim

“The hell, old man?!”

“I swear, you are a fucking hypocrite!”

“That’s outrageous father!”

“I bet she figured this out herself, cause he was careless again-“

Even in his wildest dreams Bruce didn’t imagine that the source of his embarrassment at the family dinner would be the woman he was in love with. And it made him feel a lot of things varying between fear (cause what else was that one capable of), anger (cause what else was that one capable of?!) and pride (cause – well, you know how it goes).

Showing nothing on his face, he gave Y/N a look she understood well enough.

“What? Oh. Bruce come on-“

“This is not-“

“I’m not going to pretend in front of-“

“They were not supposed to-“

“They are your freaking family. And it’s Christmas.”

“I do it for their own good!”

“What? Lying?’

The silence that came out later was deafening. No one, absolutely no one dared to breathe too loud. Even the flies suddenly dropped dead.

Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian was all crossing eyes, waiting for the situation to unravel further though each of them for different reasons. Secretly, each of them was making bets whether it was Y/N or Bruce who would win this argument.

And odds were not in her favor.

Bruce cleared his throat, pushed the chair away from the table and stood up.

REACHING HAND TO HER.

Talking her hand in his, and walking out of the diner room, to the study and closing the door behind them.”

“What the fudge-?” Dick muttered

“Do you think they are going to-?”

“JASON!”

“What? They freaking locked themselves!”

“There are kids in here!”

“I’m not a kid, Grayson!”

“You are a kid Damian!”

“I’m 12!”

“Shut up you little demon spawn!”

“Watch your tongue Todd!”

“I should have stayed by the computer-“

“We were supposed to be nice to her-“

“Well, look how that worked out for you all – “ Y/N’s teasing voice cut right into the boys’ fight before they could move to fisticuffs. She was casually leaning on the doorframe, observing them with unimpressed look on her face.”

“Um-“

“By all means, do not stop on my account. I got three older brothers and-“

“Wait, you got what now-?” Bruce appeared behind her back – “you never told me that.”

“Well I’m full of surprises, but glad you didn’t go full PI on me as you do with every other victim of yours.”

“You are not my victim-“

“Oh yeah, then what am I?” she teased, daring him to confess his feelings in front of the boys.

“Y/N!”

“Fine! Fine, later you little coward.”

Boys chuckled

“And as for you, I am shocked and maybe a little disappointed you are not at each other’s throats already. I was hoping for a show-”

“I’m sorry, how exactly did Bruce describe us to you-?”

“cavemen.”

“Whaat?!”

“Ok, well, maybe not exactly cavemen but-“

Bruce cleared his throat again.

“What now?” she rolled her eyes turning back to him. “Wait, what time is it?”

“9.15.”

“9.15? You sure? Not a 9.14 or --?”

“It’s 9.15 sharp.”

“But that would mean-“

“Mhm.”

“And you are-?”

“Yes.”

“What is going on in here?” Damian was beginning to lose his temper.

“Oh, nothing. I won a bet with Bruce.”

“A bet?! You bet on us!?” Jason yelled feeling like a circus monkey.

“What exactly was the bet about?”

“Well thank you for asking, Tim.” Y/N turned to look at Drake. “I voted on you surviving an hour in each other’s presence. Bruce- well – not so much.”

“Oh my god, we are cavemen in his eyes!” Dick wailed theatrically.

“And now – since he lost” she put an emphasis on the word – “he will apologize for the lack of belief.”

“He what?!”

“No way!”

“Could you give me a second to rush upstairs and grab a camera?”

Gods. Never in his life was Bruce that ashamed.

“Y/N-“

“Bruce-“

“Do I have to-“

“Yes, you have to.”

“But-“

“Come on, really it’s not that hard.”

“I’m shocked you survived this long.” Bruce muttered almost incoherently with the grim expression, willingly making a full out of himself by admitting his wrongdoing.

Leaving the boys in pure shock and maybe, a little respect to this woman who made the Batman do this.

Little did they know that said woman was about to be thoroughly dominated that night for this.

Therefeore – the family dinner happened to be a huge success, everyone getting what they wanted and what they deserved.

Especially Y/N, cause it felt like she won three times.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x y/n #batman x you #batman fluff #bruce wayne fluff

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