#not only did he bring in the matter but my guy was lit inside there as well with the other soldiers

[darabeatha]

-Pats the empty passenger seat of his mecha horse-

[blond3ang3l]

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you’ve watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn’t know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

…and his dick very hard

“I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!”

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn’t bring you. Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. The way your thick thighs filled them out compared to his own, he couldn’t resist grabbing them. Grabbing them led to groping them, which lead to him sneaking his hands under the boxer. This caught you off guard and stopped your sudden rant with a small gasp. He chuckled and slipped two fingers in his mouth covering them in his saliva before slipping them back under the boxers.

“Cmon baby, keeping telling me about the little videos.”

He had to have been joking. No way was he just gonna pretend he wasn’t teasing you. Like his finger wasn’t circling around your aching hole.

“Go on I’m waiting baby. Keeping telling me bout what you learned.”

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you knew it would get you no where. This wasn’t a new thing, eren was always so needy. It was always worse after a tour. Even if it had only been a relatively short one.

“Okay well like I was saying, erotomania is something that a lot of celebrity stalkers have. Especially kpop ones. It’s when someone genuinely believes they’re in a relationship with a celebrity. Remember that girl that literally would follow you to the airport? That crazy bitch probably had it.”

Eren couldn’t help but bite his lip as he listened to you go on. God you looked so fucking good. Your hair looked so good. He was so glad he got you your own personal stylist so you never had to worry about needing to go to a shop or someone else’s house. You smelled so good too. That vanilla body oil you used was just fucking irresistible. He didn’t know whether he liked that one or the strawberry poundcake one more. Either way it only made him want you more.

He slowly slid a finger inside you, watching your face contort as you tried to keep your composure. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat. He missed seeing your face. Facetime wasn’t enough. Having to sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off to pictures and homemade pornos wasn’t enough for him. He needed to see you. To feel you. He slid his free hand up your shirt, groping your chest as he thrusted finger in out and of you.

“R-ren, fuck. Cmon baby, how am i supposed to talk while you’re doing this.”

Your whines only made eren smile as he thrusted a second finger inside you. He watched you as you threw your head back while crying out. He was enjoying every second of teasing you. You were so impatient and he knew it. That’s why he catered to every need you had. You hated having to wait and tended to be bratty when you did. So he made everything about you. Whatever you wanted you had. But this time he needed to be selfish. He wanted to watch you come undone first. And that’s exactly what we’re doing.

Your tight grip on his shoulders told him everything. Your nails were digging deep into his skin as you pushed back against his fingers. You didn’t want to admit it but you missed Ren so much. Your fingers and toys didn’t compare to what he could do. How he could prolong your orgasm by teasing you. He could feel you leaking all over his thigh, his boxers now all sticky along with his thigh. He slowly slid his fingers out of you causing you whine.

He didn’t feel bad at all. It was about him this time. He gripped your hips dragging you along his thigh, making it even more of a mess. You hid your face out of embarrassment. It was too much at how he could make you a whiny mess. No other man could do this to you but him.

You couldn’t help the small noises that fell past your lips as you grinded against his thigh. Eren shivered feeling your warm breath against the side of his neck. The way you tugged at his hair he knew you were close. He could read your body like a damn book.

“Cmon baby, almost there. Let me see you.”

“F-fuck ren, I cant.”

Eren wasn’t having that at all. You couldn’t what? You were gonna disobey him? No chance in hell. He gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him

“You telling me no baby? I could have sworn I said I wanted to see your face. I’ve been gone for a long time and you think your whining is gonna stop me?”

You loved moment like this when Eren suddenly got serious. He was…well he was very off Standish which came off to mean as others. But he babied you. The moment you told him no thought after he told you to do something? It was like a switch flipped in him. His tight grip on your face was only turning you on more which made you rut against his leg faster.

“You’re gonna be good aren’t you baby? Gonna cum for me like a good little whore?”

You eagerly nodded as you bit your lip. You could only cry out his name as you came all over his thigh, making a mess in his boxers. Eren kept his grip on your face to make sure you maintained eye contact the entire time. A smirk creeping on his face as you came.

“There you go baby, let’s go get you cleaned up..”

———————————————————————

@merakidoll Eren fic just like I promised🫶🏽

———————————————————————

Based of a conversation with my boyfriend where I literally was going on about mental illness during my rant about the many video essays I watch

[famwhy]

Inconsistent

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

Hobie Brown X F!Reader

Synopsis: In which, Hobie Brown confuses the shit out of you.

Note: following up on my last post, here is how I would write Hobie's speech patterns.

"What are you doin' up 'ere?"

Your lids fluttered open, eyes flitting to the side.

He stood there, hands stuffed in those ridiculously high pockets you always criticised with a click of your tongue; criticisms he would respond to with a light, airy laugh that never failed to melt your insides and turn you into a pile of mush.

The glow of the billboard lit him up, coating his silhouette in a warm orange that complimented him so well—bringing out his piercing, dark eyes in ways you had only ever dreamt of.

"I just felt like the ground was getting a little boring." You shrugged, forcibly tearing your gaze away from his intoxicating form to bring it back to the twinkling city below you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your peripheral caught the sight of those familiar, heavy boots appearing out of nowhere to swing beside your own and, all of a sudden, the bustle of the sparkling street below you was the least of your worries.

Ultimately, you found your eyes trailing back up to his form—breath hitching in your throat as you gazed at him once again.

He was close; much closer than usual. His knees were practically touching your own and the piercings that littered his face glinted under your gaze. Half-lidded eyes stared back at you—a smirk sly enough to make you gulp situated on his handsome face.

"What you sayin'?"

"Hm?" You blinked.

"C'mon, love, I know when some'in's goin' on in that pre'y likkle head of yours." His leg nudged against your own, instantly sending warm tingles through your whole body. "You can chat to me; 'bout anything. You know that."

You almost couldn't help the fond smile that stretched across your lips at his words. "Yeah, I know."

Hobie had always been tender and caring; sweet and kind. He knew exactly what to say, when to say it, and how to put it. It was one of the reasons why your legs turned to jelly when around him; one of the many reasons why he absolutely floored you.

He was just so vocal about everything he believed in—held such strong opinions that he was never afraid of voicing out; that he would yell and scream at the top of his lungs about—you had almost found yourself envious of his confidence.

Even his clothes were loud; bold and so incredibly out there. You couldn't ignore his presence even if you wanted to—

—and to be honest, you never really did want to.

"How's the youngen?"

"He's fine, still on my arse about not needing his big sis to coddle him—" you rolled your eyes, "—how're yours?"

"They're 'opeless," snickered the guy, "man's out 'ere lookin' at 'er like she's the only person in the world and they're still not together."

He threw his hands up in his exasperation and you found yourself giggling slightly—you always did at his antics, no matter how ridiculous.

"...what about you?"

He rose a brow. "What about me?"

"You, uh, you have anyone you're thinking about that way?" A sudden rush of nervousness hit you all at once and you found yourself wondering why exactly you decided to open your damn mouth. "Y'know, like a— a girlfriend or something?"

"I don't believe in labels."

He said it—plain and simple—and your heart felt like it shattered in your chest, pieces of broken shards getting stuck to your insides to sting you even further.

"Oh..."

He didn't believe in labels. You probably weren't even on the list of potential lovers for him. Of course, how could you have let yourself hope for anything more?

"There's this one girl though."

You blinked, the rapidly growing pool of salty water in your eyes being desperately put to a halt. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She's a nice one—nice personali'y—" he placed one arm against the rough stone of the building, leaning in so close, you could feel the light puffs of his breath against your skin, "—'m thinking of goin' for it."

You wanted to be mad at him, to loathe him for liking another girl while you were so obviously head over heels for him—but in that moment, all you could focus on were his lips and the shockingly short amount of distance between them and your own.

Your heart was beating right out of your chest and you were just so confused. Here he was, talking to you about some girl he was interested in; shattering your heart in a million pieces like some worthless, glass vase—and then he was somehow making the useless shards continue to beat pathetically at just his proximity right after he broke them.

He was just so—

"Mm?!"

Your eyes widened a little, disbelief rendering you unable to move; to respond to the sudden feeling of lips on your own—of his lips on your own.

You. He was talking about you.

Warmth bubbled inside of you—coating your whole form in a lovely sheen of bliss—and soon, your lids fluttered shut as you pushed back against him—reciprocating his passion with your own.

The kiss was sweet and tender, but it soon grew into something more than that. His arm wound around your waist as soon as you kissed back, pulling you flush up against his form and allowing you to feel the heat of his body against your own.

Your fingers made their way to his wild locks, tugging on them as you felt his hands trail down, landing on your arse and pulling you onto his lap—as though just having you right up against him wasn't enough; as though he had to have you closer.

The electricity that ran through your body was enough to coax a smile out of you—one you knew he could feel through the kiss; that you hoped he would reciprocate with just as much love.

And he did, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own—dazed, half-lidded eyes staring straight at you with a mixture between a suggestive smirk and a genuinely joyful smile on his face.

You almost forgot to breathe as you looked at him with just as many pink clouds littered in your gaze—just as much adoration written clearly in your eyes.

"How about it, love?" He asked against your lips, "wanna be mine?"

You giggled dreamily, almost like a little school girl with a crush. "I thought you didn't believe in labels?"

"I don't believe in consistency."

It was official—

—Hobie Brown was the most confusing man you had ever met.

[insomniac4000]

could you write a fic for willne maybe about him and y/n maybe something about finally confessing their love for eachother?? xx love your writing!

Third Times A Charm- WillNE 1417 Words

The bright afternoon sun was out in full force, casting long, golden rays over London as the couple made they way down the bustling streets. Will glanced over at y/n, who was animatedly talking about the latest video she’d watched. Her eyes lit up when she got excited, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. They’d been dating for about a six months now, and every moment with her was a reminder of how lucky he was. But today, something else was on Will's mind, there was something he had been wanting to say for a while but hadn’t yet found the right moment, he was determined to find it today.

��Will, are you even listening?” she teased, playfully nudging him in the side.

“Of course I am!” He replied with a grin, though he knew she could see through it. Will's mind was racing, trying to figure out how to say the words that had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now. He wanted it to be perfect, but it felt like every time he tried to bring it up, something got in the way.

The couple turned a corner, and suddenly, the busy street opened up into a small park a little oasis in the middle of the city. The grass was lush and green, dotted with families having picnics and couples lounging on blankets. A few kids chased each other around, their laughter ringing through the air. Will couldn’t help but think how perfect this spot would be to finally tell y/n what he had been holding in.

“Hey, y/n,” Will started, his voice a little shakier than he intended. She turned to him, her smile softening into something more intimate. The way she looked at him, like he was the only person in the world that mattered, it gave Will a surge of confidence. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she tilted her head in that adorable way she did when she was curious. Will opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out, a voice interrupted him.

“OMG you are WillNE!!!?"

The couple both turned to see a young guy, probably in his late teens/early twenties, rushing over. He had a wide grin on his face and was clutching his phone like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m a huge fan! Can I get a picture?”

Will blinked, he had considered telling the boy to fuck off but the moment had now gone.

“Yeah, mate, sure,” He said, forcing a smile as Will took the phone and posed for the photo.

Y/n stepped back slightly, giving the boys some space. She was great like that never getting annoyed or jealous when her and Will were interrupted. But as the fan left, practically bouncing with excitement, Will couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated.

“Sorry about that,” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t be silly, Will,” y/n said with a laugh. “You have fans. It’s part of the job, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” They continued walking through the park, but the moment felt lost. Will tried to shake off the disappointment, telling himself that there’d be other opportunities. Maybe somewhere more private would be better, anyway.

The second time Will tried to tell y/n he loved her, they were back at Will's flat, lounging around after a lazy Sunday brunch. The sun streamed through the windows, filling the room with a warm, golden glow. They’d been lying on the couch together, her head resting on his chest while they scrolled through their phones. It was the kind of comfortable silence they'd grown to love, where words weren’t always necessary.

But Will knew he couldn’t keep holding it in. The feeling had been building up inside him, more so after the attempt at the park. He needed her to know.

“Y/n,” Will said softly, setting his phone down on the coffee table. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She looked up at Will, her eyes filled with curiosity. “What is it, Will?”

He swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. I just needed to say the words. “I—”

Before he could finish however, y/n suddenly gasped, her hand flying up to her nose. “Oh no, I think I’m getting a nosebleed.”

Will blinked, the words freezing in my throat as she scrambled off the couch and rushed toward the bathroom. Will sat there for a moment, dumbfounded, before reality kicked in and to his best judgement followed her.

“Are you alright?” He asked, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as she leaned over the sink, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice muffled by the tissue she was holding to her nose. Will looked at the tissue and on seeing the tiniest red spot started to go green.

"Oh no Will, you don't like the sight of blood do you?" y/n remembered suddenly.

“I'll be fine. Do you need anything?” Will asked trying to be stoic but feeling a bit useless.

“No, I’ll be fine in a minute,” she assured him, her voice already sounding steadier. “Don’t worry about it, go back into the living I'll be done in a minute.”

Will nodded and retreated back to the living room, sinking onto the couch with a sigh. Will started thinking, maybe he was going about this all wrong. He had been trying to make it a big moment, but maybe what he needed was just…to be honest. He loved her plain and simple. Did it really need to be this grand declaration?

That thought stayed with Will for the rest of the day. The couple didn’t do much after the nosebleed incident just hung out around the flat, watched a few movies, and generally enjoyed each other’s company. As the evening wore on, Will found himself more and more determined to tell her how he felt. No more interruptions, no more waiting for the perfect moment. he was just going to say it.

As the credits rolled on the film they had been watching, Will turned his head slightly to look at y/n. Her eyes were half-closed, and he wondered if she was on the verge of falling asleep.

“Y/n,” Will said softly, not wanting to startle her. She hummed in response, snuggling a little closer to him. Will smiled at that, feeling his heart swell with affection. “I love you.”

The words were out before he even realized it, and for a second, Will held his breath, waiting for her reaction. She froze for a moment, then slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. There was a beat of silence, and he could see the surprise in her eyes, followed by something that looked a lot like happiness. well Will hoped it was anyway.

“Will…you love me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Will nodded, feeling more sure of myself now that the words were out in the open. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been trying to tell you all day, but…well, things kept getting in the way.”

She stared at him for another moment, and then, to his relief, she broke into a wide, beautiful smile. “I love you too, Will.”

Hearing those words from her made everything worth it—the failed attempts, the nerves, all of it. Will felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, and all he could do was pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m so glad you finally said it,” she murmured, resting her head back on Will's shoulder.

“Me too,” he admitted. “I was starting to think it was never going to happen.” He added with a laugh. She laughed softly, and the sound was like music to Will's ears. “I’m just happy you feel the same way I do.”

The couple sat there in silence for a while, the TV still playing in the background, but they really weren't paying attention to it anymore. All Will could think about was how right this felt—being here with her, finally having told her how he felt.

The moment wasn’t perfect, but maybe that was the point. Love wasn’t about grand gestures or perfect timing. It was about the everyday moments, the little things that made up a life together. And now that they'd finally confessed their love they couldn’t wait to keep building that life together.

[cofay]

Licorice 🕷️….

A/n: I was listening to an aespa song and just started thinking of thing so it’s just here like… unedited also

You were a goddess well not really you were god sent in Izuku’s eyes you were a total beauty right from your hair to the souls of your feet and the sway of your hips the sweet sound of your voice. He loved everything about you but there was one problem….you were a Model an untouchable one at that.

So when he finally had a chance to meet you—well not actually meet you he was going to the red carpet event but it didn’t matter he found out you were on the guest list and he wasn’t wasting no time getting the perfect suit.

(It taste so…)

When he showed up his eyes were already scanning the area for you. When he finally saw you it lit something inside of him just seeing you in that outfit did things to him he wanted you bad so bad.

When he finally met you he really felt like he had to be in heaven or at least somewhere heavenly. Just your big vibrant personality and your smile he just couldn’t get enough. When you guys finally entered the museum he made his way to approach you walking towards you his movements awkward but smooth.

“Hey…uh..I really like your idea for the red carpet theme..it’s nice” he stumbled over his words feeling hot,embarrassed and already getting antsy and excited 

“huh- OH! Thanks boo, What’s your name cutie?”

“I-izuku…Izuku Midoriya” he says blushing

“Well I’m Y/n L/n nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too, uhh I’m a really big fan of you and your work”

“Really thank you I really appreciate it I’m actually flattered that a pro hero is a fan of me!”

You lift his hand holding it in both of yours and squeezing it tightly “It was really nice to meet you” ..you say one last time with a bright smile and you walked off to mingle with other celebrities.

(So sweet so sour…)

As the night approaches and only some people leave the party you were making it to your car until Izuku saw you leaving and he wanted to take his chance to get some more one and one time with you and possibly get your number maybe…just maybe

As he was stuck inside his head thinking he seemed like you beat him to it he try’s to fixes himself up as he see’s you coming his way and almost instantly he had a bright smile on his face already before you even spoke. Wow you were so pretty you hair was perfect..your outfit….your smile…you were perfect.

“Hey Midoriya!” You chirped with your keys swinging in your hand

“H-hey Y/n!!”

“How was your night? Did you have a good time?”

“I had a fine time how about you?”

“I mean it was good!..but for a first time a little overwhelming bit I don’t mind..” you giggle to yourself with a breathy sigh

“Wait it was first time coming to big events like this?”

“Yeahh! I may be a model but I don’t really like leaving out as much..”

“Maybe I could…bring you to some as like a plus one…?”

“I don’t mind, here you can have my number!”

You pull out your phone as Izuku fumbles with his, he stands there eagerly as you go to your messages and hand your phone to him as he does the same.

(With sugar and spice ♡︎)

You guys basically hit it off texting each and calls every second there was. It was only a couple days later when he asked if you would like to go out to dinner just to talk more in person I mean why wouldn’t you want to go to dinner with the number 1 pro hero???!?!

You wore a silk black dress that hugged your body showing off your figure you came into the restaurant spotting him at the table already in a nice looking suit you walked to the table and he got up pulling your chair out for you.

“Wow you’re such a gentleman~” you coo sitting down and fixing your dress slightly he sits back down smiling and his cheeks slightly red.

“Thanks…” he sighs looking around nervously before speaking up again. “So how’s modeling been going?”

“It’s been fine, how have you been Mr.pro hero?” You lean forward laying your chin on your hands smirking

“I-it’s been fine you know fighting a couple villains here and there—“

“Are you in a relationship?”

“Oh- uh..” his face turns red as he looks away slightly “No…”

“Do you want to be in one?”

“Uh maybe— I-i—“

Cutting him off the waiter comes up asking the usual ‘what can I get you for today?’ You both told him what you wanted and he walks off you then turn to Izuku placing your attention on him.

“You know you could be a model I mean you definitely have the body and face for it”

“Oh..uh thanks but I don’t thank I can handle all those cameras y’know?”

“Aww are you shy?” You let you leg slide up and down against his calf so slow and sensual

“Ah…um….may..be” a shiver is sent up his spine when you did that but he liked it…I liked it so much that he just knew he had to take you home tonight he needed you now.

[miguelswifey04]

Hey Lin!! Could you do a Noir x Fem reader where Peter gets really jealous of some other guy whos hitting on the reader at some bar, and she takes full advantage of this (Knowing how Peter gets ;p) by entertaining the other guy's flirtiness? Peter gets upset and flips out on the guy and brings you home (smut??? LOL)

Thanks for letting me request!! Love your stuff! :)

LOVE THIS CLICHE TROPE SM <33

🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰

noir stood by your side at the bar being protective of you as you both enjoy the lively atmosphere of the bar. it’s dimly lit and everyone’s having a good time conversing with one another. peter is next to you but he isn’t displaying any type of affection that would tell others you’re taken. he doesn’t have to because he knows you’re his and he enjoys the playful banter between you and the bartender but it’s all just for fun. his eyes crinkle with amusement finding it pretty fun. he isn’t one to get really possessive or aggressive when men hit on you because you never give them that type of attention. he’s busy sipping on his egg cream and playing with his lighter when he notices a man who took the opportunity to strike up a daring conversation with you.

the man tried to impressing you with sweet words and charming gestures. for some reason, it kind of got under noir’s skin. he can’t understand why he reacted that way but he did. maybe it was the way your face lit up and you smiled prettily at that man. you, however, had another motive in mind. you wanted to see if you could awaken spider-noir’s hidden possessiveness which was buried deep and locked away—somewhere in his heart. you were curious to see how he reacts because he usually never would get mad at you or blame you for another man’s motives. knowing full well that spider-noir had a short fuse, you toyed with the other man's advances, playing along with a twinkle in your eye. your coy smile and flirtatious banter were meant to stoke the embers of jealousy within spider-noir, to elicit the reaction you yearned to see.

as the man's hand brushed yours and his words grew bolder, spider-noir’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching in a mix of irritation and protective possessiveness. he had always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and this situation was no exception.

tolerating no further restraint, spider-noir stepped between you and the other man, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. gone was the playful banter. in its place, a possessive hunger burned within his gaze.

“step away from them now," he growled lowly, his voice laced with a potent combination of warning and desire. the atmosphere around you shifted, tension thick in the air, as spider-noir’s protective instincts took hold.

fearless, you leaned closer to spider-noir, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered, "awww, what’s wrong baby? are you jealous, my love? does it rile you up to see me tease another man? you know i’m all yours, but sometimes it's fun to make you a little possessive."

his nostrils flared, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. “you wanna play this game? fine by me darling. we’re leaving.”admission had struck a nerve, the allure of playing with fire irresistible to both of you. in that moment, you could see a fire burning in his dark eyes, a hunger that needed to be satiated. you were excited if you were being honest. you’d finally made him jealous and you couldn’t lie to yourself—the way he reacted kind of turned you on.

without uttering another word, spider-noir clasped your hand firmly, a silent invitation for you to leave the bar. the world outside had lost its appeal, the chemistry between you and spider-noir demanding to be indulged. he took you to the car opening it for you and letting you inside without a word. at least he was being a gentleman while being pretty jealous. the whole car ride was silent and you tried to speak to him but no matter what he only gave you short one-word responses; his gaze never left the road.

the anger and jealousy fueled your passion, igniting a connection that burned hotter than ever. he unleashed his longing and possessiveness upon you as soon as you both made it back home. Spider-Noir's dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense as he climbed atop you with a commanding presence. the air was thick with a mix of tension, desire, and a tinge of reproach.

as he hovered above you, his voice laced with authority, he spoke with a profound seriousness, his words piercing your heart while igniting a familiar flame of arousal within you.

“you dare to tease and taunt me, my love," he murmured, his voice deep and velvety, "testing the limits of my possessiveness. remember this: you are mine, body and soul. no other man should dare to touch what is rightfully mine."

“oh am i? then, prove to me i’m yours.” you smirked while you felt his warm breathe trickle onto your face. his hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head, asserting his dominance as his gaze drank in your vulnerable state. spider-noir’s touch was commanding yet laced with a raw tenderness, a reminder of his undying love mixed with the lesson he intended to impart.

“you need to be reminded of your place, my darling," he continued, his lips grazing your ear, his breath sending shivers cascading down your spine. "i am the one who claims you, protects you, and lavishes you with pleasure. no one else can fulfill those desires quite like i can."

with a possessive growl, spider-noir’s lips sought out yours, capturing them in a searing kiss filled with equal parts desire and discipline. the kiss was both punishing and passionate, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

his hands, firm and demanding, roamed your body, mapping every curve and dip, claiming territory with his touch. you squirmed beneath him, the mixture of submission and arousal driving you wild as you absorbed the lesson he was so fervently teaching.

delving into the depths of pleasure and pain, spider-noir left his mark upon your body, nipping and grazing over sensitive skin, marking you as his own. with each act of possession, his words of instruction mingled with your desire, etching themselves into the depths of your being. he ripped your clothes off of you as he pushed your head down onto the pillow while your ass was up. he ripped off your undergarments as he took you from behind. you felt him enter you with one swift motion, you welcoming in your wet entrance. you swallowed his cock so needfully and clenched every time you felt him stretch out your whole just right. he was aggressive but lovely at the same time. you hips snapped against his as he buried his fingers deep into your skin of your hips—that was definitely going to leave bruises in the morning. your cries, begs, and moans fueled his desire to make you a whimpering mess. he had a tight grip on your hair while a string of saliva cascaded down your flushed lips down to your chin. you were completely being destroyed yet you loved every second of it.

“no other man can make you feel this good, could they?” you couldn’t even respond as he gripped the back of your neck, pushing your head back down onto the pillow. he was going at full force and his thrusts were relentless. this was your punishment for entertaining that man at the bar. he could feel you close and he picked up his pace. this happened a couple times, and he wasn’t going to let you cum once but multiple times. he knew whenever he made you cum multiple times you’d be beyond overstimulated. “i know, too sensitive huh? you can take it.” you nodded and cried out for the love of god. you were too overwhelmed by the sensations that your body trembled. you lips quivered and you shut your eyes tightly as you felt your third orgasm coming in.

as the lesson reached its climax, spider-noir released his hold and gazed into your eyes, his expression softened with a mixture of reverence and affection. he had claimed you, reaffirming the depths of his love and the boundaries of his possessiveness.

in the aftermath, as your bodies heaved with shared pleasure, spider-noir held you close, the intensity of his embrace a reminder of the love that drove his actions. his voice, now gentle and tender, filled the room.

“remember, my love," he whispered, his voice a velvet caress against your ear, "you belong to me, body and soul. i am yours, just as you are mine. let this lesson we've learned bind us closer, strengthening the passionate connection that burns between us."

and in his arms, his touch a delicate mix of possessiveness and affection, you found solace and comfort, reassured that your love for each other was a force that could withstand any test, ensuring your journey continued with an unyielding hunger for each other's desires.

tags 🏷️: @kairiscorner @alliwriteistrash @refridgerators

[noellefan101]

Heyaaaa, I saw a yandere Genshin blog that writes for ladies and I know what I must do!

Could I see what Yandere Yoimiya's like? Perhaps general headcanons as to how she acts once she's in a relationship with her beloved?? TYSM, I'd love to see what you make of this!!

:3 no real intro cuz im really tired, sry

prob ooc yoimiya, but like extra ooc cuz im too tired to think straight

i wrote most of this at 1 am and the rest in math class

i feel like she would be a very soft yandere, yk not hurting her darling or not even wanting to kidnap (but she would if she thought that you would be more safe like that, will hate so much herself if she ever hurt you)

ofc like any other yandere she would kill for you, but it wont be for dumb reasons like some dude looked at you for 0.1 second, no,

but it'll be more if you really hated your boss or someone dared actually hurt you or say something that really broke you

she is really gentle and sweet, plus she loves to make you new fireworks and just gifts you a lot of things in general, even if you're "just friends"

"[y/n]! there you are, i brought you some of my new fireworks!" she yelled as she ran up to you, her eyes glued to your figure ignoring anything else around her in the process.

"look, arent they going to be pretty!" she said as she showed you her concept drawing for the fireworks, and ided they were pretty, and going to be even prettier when in lit up in the sky

"im sure they are, yoimiya" your smile was so sweet and looked so lovely on you, you were the only thing going trough her mind as she got lost in your eyes.. "uhm yoimiya, you ok?

"h-huh?! o-oh yeah love, uh i mean [y-y/n] i-im fine, uhm, would you uuhh like to see the f-fireworks in action?" her face was so warm it felt like she was burning more then that guy would be right now, what stupid idea he had, he should've never even thought about touching you then she wouldnt be so late to seeing you today and- "yeah of course i want to see the fireworks you made!"her thoguh got cut off with your voice, that beautiful voice...

and also acts like you're the litteral reason she is alive (you are), so if she ever hurt you if even by a tiny scratch she would actually just die inside, and look like she died on the outside

yoimiya

she is really supportive of whatever you do, and if you have like a fashion brand or something it would be the only thing she is willing to wear, or if you work at restaurant she would eat there everytime you have a shift

she would definitely bring you flowers on random occasions and just say it wasnt because of anything special or anything, but it was just because she missed you and really needed to see you or she would've mentally destroyed herself not knowing if you were ok or not

"h-hi, i uhm brought you flowers! y-yeah, flowers i hope you like them i picked them myself" she said giving you a beautiful and big bouquet of your favorite flower, wait did you ever tell her what your favorite flower is?? you dont think so, but you guess it doesnt matter right now, maybe you just forgot you told her (you never told her your favorite flower, yet she knows the exact shade of that flower you like the most).

"awww thank you, yoimiya! i love them!!" you said as you held them close to youer chest, she really wishes she were those flowers right now, all close you. she looked up at your lips, getting cought in the thought of how soft they look and how she so wanted to kiss y-

"y-your w-welcome, i-i just thought t-that you were so pretty that you c-could use some flowers- what! n-no no i-i mean you i uhhh i-i have to go n-now yeah, i-i'll see you l-later" she panicked, what was she saying and in front of you too no no no, what if you thought she was weird now, or what if she went too fast and too far...

"o-oh ok, have a nice day yoimiya! thank you again for the flowers" you waved goodbye with one hand and had the flowers in the other, wondering why she seemed to be running out to the middle of nowhere. she talked so fast you didnt even hear what she said other than a few words which were "you were so pretty", and they left a blush behind that certainly would go away for a few hours or so.

if you lived far away, like not even in inazuma, she would send so many letters to you, even if you didnt know who she was as she just saw you while on the road once and fell so badly in love, its fine you're going to fall for her sooner or later

she would also visit you again and again but that costs a lot of money so she tries to convince you to move in with her, but if thta doesnt work she might actually get frustrated and just drug you and then take you home herself

with that idea still in mind, if she met you while in sumeru and you were a student she still doesnt want to interfere with the things you love (though save some of that love for her pls) so she wouldnt kidnap you but would wait patiently for as long as you need, or promise to take you out to study the things in inazuma instead (she would murder your professer if they said no and that you should stay in the akademiya, abselutely)

"how are you doing this week? i know i send you a lot of letters but i just had to when i found out where you lived so i didnt have to travel so much as it costs quite a bit. but its worth it if it means i can see you every so often, as you are slowly becoming the reason i exist, i would love to hear about everything you have done in your life, big or small. please think about visiting inazuma soon, i would love to show you around all the different regions, shops and more. i also learned what proper love is now because of you, and i think it indeed is you, as i cant find anything that i love and adore more than you.

i also picked some fireworks out for you, they are from my personal collection and are very pretty, just like you, i would love to get your feedback on them and would happily make you a thousand more if you want me to. i will also make different ones if you get bored of the ones youcurrently have

please keep yourself safe

Your Love-Yoimiya"

attached to the letter is a few too many fireworks, and some inazuman snacks and accessories too, she doesnt seem to be very wealthy yet has bought you what looks like a diamond necklace and a very pretty ring.

would absolutely cook you meals throughout the day, she'll cook you anything you want for breakfast, lunch, and dinner but she also makes sure you're healthy and checks in on you every few hours to make sure you drink enough too

if you're really depressed, she would make sure you had your meds for it and stuff, would also hand feed you everything. she calls it that because she hates using the word force but yes, she forces you to eat and will not take no for an answer

almost killed your doctor when the meds stop working, but then found out later that its completly normal and its not the doctor trying to kill you (you saved a life that day, multible even)

*knock knock* "oh, my love, i found you! here's your lunch for the day, i used some of the leftovers from yesterday, i really hope you like. oh i also got you your favorite snack right here, and then remember to drink your water too." she left with a kiss to your cheek and blew you an extra kiss before closing the door to your room again.

she wasnt lying when she said you would fall inlove with her at soem point, as you were certainly beginning to fall down deep in the hole that is Yoimiya.

she loves to hug you when around you in general, but loves to kiss you cheek when she feels like you've been away from her for too long. would never actually kiss your lips, altough she wants to, you have to give her permission first and then she might if she still has the confidence

she becomes a literal puddle when you just as much as touch her cheek, yes she has to touch you every second you are near her, but its different when its you doing anything!!!

she thinks you're a god, and in her eyes you are, doesnt matter how ugly you think you are or how weak you actually are. she will worship you so much you would think every 'imperfection' you have is prettier than ever.

she looked into your eyes as she lays in your lap, the sky is pretty, and that was what she thought she would be looking at the whole time, but it seems she made other plans. your eyes are just too captivating, too pretty, and too- her thoughts cut off as she felt your hand play with her loose hair, as she had put it down just as you started to ask her the question.

your hands were soft, and felt nice in her hair. she could lay here forever if it meant you were going to be here and stroke her hair like this, she's sure her pops wouldn't mind if she feel asleep for just a little longer, and she definitely could when she is laying on her darling.

"yoimiya? oh, you're awake, how as your na-" "you look divine" she cut you off as she just stared up at you like you were the god of beauty, like you were the god of her heart, and maybe you were, but to her it wasnt even a maybe. "y-you think so? dont i just look messy? or ugly? i dont think i even brushed my hair today" she looked up at you with a questioning look in her eyes

"no how dare you even think that, you look divine, beautiful, pretty, majestic, lovely, attractive, god-like, charming-" she stopped when you held a hand over her mouth, she wanted to kiss it so badly... "ok ok, i-i get it, i look pretty to you" your face was red, really red, and it looked cute she thinks, very cute indeed. she should make you blush more often so she can see more of your beauty that is only for her too see.

she had an even bigger smile on for the next week and no one knew why, but she normally smiles a lot so they didnt question her. though she would have happily answered with a long rant about you.

when you two actually started dating she would have a constant blush on her face for the next month or smt, she just cant believe you would actually date her, i mean you were just so perfect in every way, and then theres her what do you even see in her, do you even see anything in her?

but its fine if you dont, she wont let you leave anyway, she cant lose you not now, not ever. you are hers and hers alone, and you know she will make sure it stays that way, even if it costs her verything else. you will be hers, and she will be yours.

i uhh didnt just give you general headcanos heh, your welcome??? wtf is going on with me rn

im so single that being kidnapped by a hot person doesnt sound bad at all, like take me PLEASE... *cough cough* thank u for reading pls kidnap me, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[miraruinada]

When Granja Recognized Iovan

"Subjectification is love. But why do we love someone like that? Let's leave the matter here. I gave it a formula. I was talking about self-relating negativity in terms which are full of traps. That's not unusual. Everything I say has traps. Why on earth would I say it was about something else when it's about the spirit? We know that language never gives, never allows us to formulate anything but things which have three, five, twenty-five meanings. The subject presumed to know."

Granja, as he spoke in this lecture, could not finish this specific line of thought. Iovan Herrera, before then simply a person who'd sneaked into those lectures, felt a desire to stand up, walk up to the podium, and wash her hands inside Granja's pitcher of water. Granja watched her without saying a word. Iovan continued without saying a word. They did not speak until at last other students stood up to try and drag her away.

"What's this? Are you going to rough me up? I was just expressing myself, like this gentlewoman, understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"I'd just like to add I specifically chose this moment to intervene, and that the composite body which up to fifty years ago could be called culture, that is, people expressing in fragmented ways what they feel, is now a lie and can only called spectacle. The backdrop of which is tied to, and serves as, a link between all alienated individual activities.

"If all people here and now were to join together and, freely and authentically, wanted to communicate, it'd be on a different basis, with a different perspective. Of course, this can't be expected of students who by definition will one day become the managers of our system, with their justifications, and who are also the public whom, with a guilty conscience, will pick up the remains of the decaying spectacle.

"That's why I chose this precise moment to have some fun, to be like those guys who express themselves authentically. I didn't do it to annoy you, but I did choose this particular moment."

The lecture hall applauded. Granja asked Iovan to sit down beside him, and began to speak in response. A few students lingered next to Iovan. Some of them, Ignacio Otxo, Hugo Valdez, were among the first members of the Young Farmers.

"So, let's see what we can do. By expressing yourself in this way, in front of this audience which is more than ready to hear these revolutionary statements. What was it exactly that you wanted to do?"

"That's the question which parents, sages, ideologues, bureaucrats, and the polis always ask the growing number of people who act like me. My answer is, I want to do just one thing. Revolution. It's clear that, at the stage we've reached at this moment, one of our main targets will be exactly those moments when people like you are bringing to people like these justification for their miserable lives. That's what you do."

"Not at all."

After a few seconds of silence, Iovan splashed water on Granja and stormed off. Some of the students followed her. Ignacio stayed, Hugo followed Iovan. Granja was not angered at her actions, only annoyed that his cigarette was snuffed from the water. As he lit his cigarette and wiped his clothes with a napkin, he continued.

"Let's hope there'll be a new organization. It's not impossible, you know? It's not impossible that we see it born in the form of a rule which is called, which goes by the name of that supreme aspiration: that is the whole. As she was just saying, we should all be a part of it, we should close ranks together to achieve... Well, what exactly? What does organization mean if not a new order? A new order is the return to something which, if you remember the premise from which I started, is the order of the discourse of the master, simply that.

"It's the one word which hasn't been mentioned, but it's the very term which organization implies. It is quite conceivable that there be a lot of progress in this sense. If we can call that progress. I mean, what we discover from getting close to what is happening to a certain number of people, that is, that certain something invaluable, which she referred to as will just now, subjective will. This subjective will, if we look at in an absolutely permanent sense, can only manifest itself through its own division, since it is doubtless meant to suggest something to us. It's not, however, our image of the achievement of total harmony. You heard an appeal, one familiar to me. It was very touching, despite the fact that it led to a few problems with my tie.

"It's love! It's love telling you that if we were all like that, all together, loving each other, it would herald the dawn of a New Tenochtitlan. We've seen it various times in history, but never at just any old moment. It happens because something manifests itself which is not strictly within the order of discourse, because there has been a discourse which is proliferating and engendering innumerable little ones, which makes all of you terribly uncomfortable. There is a scientific discourse whose very presence threatens us with the idea that things will be resolved in terms of mechanics, ballistics, equilibria, currents, and the more we understand the better. We'll soon be like products, a certain type of individual who'll fit in with everyone and everything.

"But experience shows us that things aren't like that. What experience shows us is that it is one language, the one you've all grown up with, which you received from the world, from your family. It's something which couldn't have been transmitted to you without bringing with it a whole vibrant, confused reality which was formed by the desires of your parents. So an individual's upbringing is influenced by the parent, by the parental language, by that fundamental something. That is where love turns towards that kind of vibrant call, to that union with... What? With something which is obviously very alienating. What is really incredible is that she imagined that, by beating the sky with her fists, that this alienation which was exactly what she was telling you about is a sort of... An appeal for what? For more of what? For more truth?

"Her words were identical to the truth she believed at that moment, and she became the instrument, the messenger, the angel come to rescue you from your sleep, in the end!"

This incident was also the moment of birth of the Young Farmers.

[let-me-be-an-egg-toast]

PROLOGUE - MURPHY LAW. SCENE 3 - SCENE 4 FADE IN: INT. MURPHY LAW DETECTIVE AGENCY - NIGHT Blades of moonlight cut across MURPHY's face as he looked at the letter in one hand. In the other, he held a lit cigarette, bringing it up to his mouth to blow out a puff of smoke. NARRATOR: The Foundation. Always bringing the worst trouble wherever they go, especially if you were the main target.

There was a low sneer to his voice, recalling all the worst memories in his mind connected to the dastardly organization.

The unassuming envelope lay unopened in his hands, a measly stamp containing a crescent moon placed in the top left-hand corner of its back. Typewritten in the middle were the words,"TO MURPHY LAW." NARRATOR: It's like swimming in an open sea, all alone and blind in dark waters. Suddenly, a shark swims over you, and it'll continue to tail your scent no matter how much you swim away. There will only be one in the beginning, but soon you'll get circled by an entire population of them, blocking your every exit. You can only pray to your God He'll give you the chance to make it out alive. MURPHY looks out his window, a stripe of moonlight illuminating his eyes, focused and sharp. NARRATOR: If that God even existed. And even if He did, consider that the labcoats already got to Him first. MURPHY quietly growls, walking away from the window and tossing the letter onto his desk. NARRATOR: Once you make the mistake of biting the hook, they'll never let go until they get what they want. He looks intensely at the envelope; he doesn't need to open it. NARRATOR: This is their hook. Another bait for me to bite, another trap to blindly put my foot in. He picks it up again, silently analyzing it. NARRATOR: It's not the first time they threw one out, but it will be the last time I fell for it again. He cautiously opens the flap. NARRATOR: I already know their tricks. I already know that I can't expect anything, but I can always expect consequences, danger, and most of all, deception. He pulls out the paper and unfolds it. Outside, it was starting to rain. NARRATOR: So what's stopping this from being another one? The camera zooms into the first sentence of O5-1's letter. O5-1: "Greetings, Mr. Law." DISSOLVE TO: INT. MURPHY'S CAR - NIGHT (DOWNPOUR) The sound of thunder reverberates throughout the atmosphere, creating a sense of unease for the weak-hearted. For MURPHY, it was just another Monday, unfortunately. NARRATOR: The problem with everyone these days is they're all trying to be heroes. They do it by waiting for something to happen, or they go and do it themselves by making a problem. Only a few go and solve the existing ones. Rain drops after rain drops harshly fall against MURPHY's window, like a dame crying over her recently murdered husband and aunt. He is unbothered as usual, more focused on getting all of this over with. NARRATOR: But me? I'm not interested in being a hero. His eyes narrow at the view before him as he reaches near the place.

NARRATOR: After all, I'm just the guy they call when everything that could go wrong...did. NARRATOR: And unfortunately for me- He stops the car just a few blocks away from the destination. NARRATOR: -everything did go wrong for O5-1. Knowing the Foundation, one wouldn't know what aces they got up their sleeves, but unluckily for them, MURPHY has been running into those pencil-pushers one too many times to know just how they act. He doesn't get out just yet; instead, he cautiously looks at his surroundings from inside the vehicle. Nothing but drenched buildings and heavy rain. NARRATOR: I'm not usually this stupid, but O5-1's letter seemed desperate enough. Desperate, even for her own people. He decides to finally exit his car, with the sound of the door hitting against the vehicle echoing throughout the empty, pouring street. NARRATOR: After all, they were a condescending bunch of schmucks who just had to have absolute control over almost everything, even over life and death. The worst kind of leaders. NARRATOR: Tried to control me too, trying to pin all kinds of names on me, among other things... He instantly shuts his eyes close at the rush of memories to his brain.

NARRATOR: Unfortunately, I don't follow authority. The rain hit against MURPHY like rapid bullets from the sky, drenching him through his own trenchcoat and trillby hat as he continues to carefully walk on the equally wet pavement. NARRATOR: Besides, she called me Mr. Law; that's respect. But I can't let my guard down just because of that. The last time an O5 did that too was no. 5, and it turned out to be another facade in the end. NARRATOR: But I just have to ask. He finally reaches the actual location; an empty warehouse. The building was foreboding, casting tall shadows before it as lightning struck the sky once again.

NARRATOR: What the hell did O5-1 do in order to turn their own entire organization against them? CHAPTER 1 - THE BIG SLEEP

[aajjks]

y/n outfit: https://pin.it/5DzJtPjg0

TPOL!JK

being pregnant is…strange.

it feels like yesterday you were at the hospital receiving the news of your pregnancy, and here you are four months later, doing your best to cover said pregnancy. you’ve yet to tell your mother the news despite your best friend telling you countless times to come clean about it, but you just can’t bring yourself to break the news to her. then there’s your baby daddy, or should you even call him that?

“sorry i’m late guys,” you apologize as you pull the chair from the small table and sit with your two best friends, alina and yerin. “jesus, y/n!” panics alina as she reaches to hold the chair as you sit down. “girl, what are you wearing?” yerin asks as she examines your layered outfit: the sweater, overalls, and boot combination is a far cry from your previous fashion choices. “you look hot as hell,” she remarks and you unabashedly agree as you unclip the overalls and take a moment to catch your breath.

“i’m only wearing this to hide it from my mom,” you pant out as you rub your four-month-old belly. alina gasps when she gets a glimpse of it. “aw, look at how big you’re getting,” she coos, “i know right?” you chime in as you look down at your small round belly. “soooo, i think i can’t access my other savings account jungkook made for me,” you say, causing yerin to be confused. “why not?” she says, her tone showing her obvious irritation towards jungkook. “not sure. i know he told me about it before, but i guess he took the money back”

“how much money was in the account?”

“not sure. he never told me, but i’m sure he knew i needed it”

“what an asshole” yerin rolls her eyes. “i thought you’ve been saving money from your part-time job?” alina chimes in, and you respond. “i have, but it’s not enough. plus…i quit”

“YOU WHAT?!” your friends say in unison. “why would you do that?” yerin asks, confused as to why you would do something so drastic. “they don’t pay for maternity leave, and they were planning on letting me go, anyways”

“why? did they find out you were pregnant?”

“no, they just didn’t need me anymore….at least the morning sickness phase is gone though”

~🫧

Four months.

He honestly didn’t think that you would last that long. It pisses him off, but at the same time it’s kind of amusing to see you try to survive on your own.

Jungkook sits alone in the dimly lit study of his penthouse. The quiet hum of the city below filters through the glass walls, but it does nothing to soothe the storm inside him.

It has been four months since you left, and you still consume every corner of his mind.

He tells himself he’s furious. No—he is furious. But beneath that anger lies something darker, something he refuses to acknowledge.

The pregnancy. Your growing stomach. It’s not something he has to imagine, because he knows.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to the stack of reports on the table. He’s keeping an eye on you, even if you don’t know it.

The private investigator he hired ensures that every detail of your life reaches him— your trips to the grocery store, your appointments at the doctor, the moments you spend alone.

His grip tightens around the glass of whiskey in his hand. He pictures you waddling around in oversized clothes, trying to hide the truth of your condition from the world.

A bitter smile curves his lips. You might think you’ve escaped him, but you’re wrong.

You belong to him. And so does the life growing inside of you.

The control he holds over you is his twisted solace. Cutting you off financially had been deliberate— a reminder that no matter how far you run, you’ll never sever the strings he has tied to you.

He takes another sip of whiskey, leaning back in his chair. The reports have made it clear: you’re struggling.

The part-time job you quit. The savings you’re running out of. The reliance on your friends to stay afloat.

His hand twitches slightly at the thought of your stubbornness. You could have come back, and all of this could have been avoided. But no— you’ve chosen to fight.

Jungkook knows you won’t last long without him. And when the moment comes, he’ll be waiting.

The thought of your growing belly stirs something primal in him.

He’s told himself over and over that he doesn’t want the child, that it’s nothing more than an inconvenience. But his possessiveness tells a different story.

You carrying someone else’s child is unthinkable. This child, whether he wants it or not— is a part of you.

And that alone is enough to deepen his obsession.

He lets out a long breath, staring at the ceiling. You might think you’re in control, but he knows better.

Jungkook has already decided how this ends.

You’ll remember who holds the reins. You’ll come back to him. You always do.

But now he cannot wait anymore.

Jungkook’s mind churns with dark thoughts as he sits in the silence of his penthouse.

The ticking of the clock is almost unbearable, the seconds passing slower with each thought of what he plans to do tonight.

His fingers drum against the side of his whiskey glass, the ice cubes clinking softly.

He’s waited long enough. The thought of your mother—your eomma… lurking in the back of his mind like a wound.

He’s put it off, but now there’s no escaping it. He’ll have to face her, the woman who’s always been a barrier between him and you. The one who’ll probably never understand his actions, but it doesn’t matter.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, staring out at the city below. He knows what he’s about to do will escalate everything.

But this is how it has to be.

He can’t just let you walk around with the evidence of what you’ve done—

what you’ve both done… without setting things straight.

His phone buzzes on the table. It’s a reminder from his assistant, confirming the meeting time with your mother. Jungkook smiles to himself, a cruel twist on his lips.

He picks up the phone, typing a quick response before slipping it into his pocket. The plans are set.

He’s never cared much for confrontation, but this is different. This is about his future—about his control.

You may think you can hide the truth, but he’s not leaving anything up to chance anymore.

The thought of your mother’s reaction fills him with anticipation. He’s fully aware that she doesn’t know the truth about your pregnancy.

The fact that she’s still in the dark about the situation gives him a sense of power. The look on her face when he tells her will be worth every second of the discomfort.

Jungkook stands, his posture rigid, the cold fury radiating from him like a palpable force.

He walks toward the door, his fingers wrapping around the doorknob. It’s time. Time to remind you both of who holds the power.

Tonight, he’ll lay it all out. And when he’s done, there will be no room for misunderstandings.

You’ll come crawling back to him. You’ll see the truth— the one he’s forced you into— and he’ll make sure of it.

As he steps into the elevator, his eyes lock onto his reflection in the polished metal walls.

He knows what he’s doing is far from right, but it’s too late to turn back now. All that matters is control. And tonight, he takes it all back.

•••

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as he drives through the city, his mind is a whirlwind of calculations and emotions.

The engine hums beneath him,

He’s been planning this for days— this moment when he’ll confront the reality of your pregnancy with your mother. The more he thinks about it, the more determined he becomes.

You have brought this upon yourself.

As he pulls up to your mother’s home, the familiar sight of her place stirs a strange feeling inside him. It’s not quite fear, but it’s not far from it.

He’s never been a fan of these kinds of meetings, but tonight he has no choice. He parks in the driveway and takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what’s to come.

He steps out of the car, his tailored suit brushing against the cool night air.

The lights inside the house glow softly through the windows, casting shadows that seem to stretch toward him like beckoning hands.

His footsteps echo on the gravel as he makes his way to the front door, the sound of his heels deliberate, sharp.

When he knocks, the door opens almost immediately.

There stands your mother, her expression warm but slightly weary.

She’s a little older now, but there’s something about her presence that still carries the strength it always had when Jungkook first met her.

She’s the last person he wants to face, but the only one who can understand the situation fully.

“Jungkook,” she greets him softly, her voice like a calm breeze. “It’s good to see you.”

She steps back to let him inside, her eyes scanning him for any sign of unease. He hides it well, masking the storm brewing inside him.

“Thank you, Mrs L/N,” Jungkook responds, his voice smooth, betraying none of the tension inside.

He enters the house, noting how neat and cozy it looks. He knows this is just a front for what’s really happening. The calm before the storm.

Once inside, he takes off his coat and hangs it by the door, the weight of it a reminder of the responsibility he’s about to unload onto her. He inhales deeply, centering himself.

No more games, no more delays.

“Can I get you something to drink?” your mother asks, her eyes warm and inviting.

“Water’s fine,” Jungkook answers, his gaze shifting to the photos on the mantle.

Family pictures. Your childhood, a reminder of how long he’s known you, how long he’s been a part of this family.

But tonight, none of that matters. All that matters is control, and he intends to take it back.

He sits down on the couch, his back straight, his posture perfect. Your mother moves gracefully to the kitchen, her presence still calm, like nothing could disrupt the peace in this house.

Jungkook’s fingers tap against his knee, the tension in his body growing with each passing second.

Oh, he cannot wait for this.

As she returns with a glass of water, she sits across from him. “I take it there’s something on your mind?” she asks, her tone both curious and cautious.

Jungkook’s lips curl into a thin smile, but it’s not warm. “Yes, eomma, there’s something I need to tell you.”

His voice hardens, the gravity of the moment finally settling in. “It’s about your daughter.”

Your mother tilts her head slightly, a subtle sign of concern. “What about her?”

Jungkook remains seated across from your mother, the weight of the moment pressing down on him as he watches her intently.

The silence between them feels suffocating, but he knows he has to control the conversation, steer it in the direction he needs.

This isn’t about the pregnancy yet—not directly. What matters now is the betrayal he feels.

He clears his throat, his fingers drumming lightly on the table.

Your mother’s brow furrows slightly, sensing the tension in his words. “What’s happened, Jungkook? You’re worrying me.”

He takes a slow breath, gathering his thoughts. “She left me,”

he says, his tone flat, emotionless. His gaze doesn’t waver from her face. “Ynleft me, and I’m… disappointed in her.”

Your mother blinks, her shock evident in the slight widening of her eyes.

She opens her mouth, but no words come out at first. It’s like she’s struggling to understand what he’s saying.

“She… left you?” she repeats, her voice soft, almost too gentle for the sharpness of his confession.

“Why would she do that?”

Jungkook leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “She couldn’t handle things anymore,” he says.

“She’s been acting reckless, pulling away from me, and now she’s gone. I gave her everything,everything—and she just leaves without a word.”

His words come out clipped, restrained. The anger that churns beneath the surface is palpable, but he keeps it in check, savoring the control he has in this moment.

Your mother shakes her head slowly, trying to process his words. “But… she wouldn’t leave you without a reason. There must be something else going on.”

Jungkook’s lips curl into a tight smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It doesn’t matter now,” he says, his voice sharp.

“She made her choice. And now I’m left picking up the pieces, trying to figure out what went wrong.”

He watches your mother’s face closely, studying every subtle change in her expression. She’s worried— he can see it in her eyes—but he’s not here for her sympathy.

He’s here to make sure she understands who’s in control, who’s been wronged.

“I just wanted to let you know,”

he continues, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest, “because it’s not something I’m going to sweep under the rug. You deserve to know the truth.

“She… she’s the one who walked away.”

There’s a long silence before your mother speaks again, her voice soft, almost fragile.

“Jungkook… I’m sorry. I know you cared for her. But you must understand… Yn is not someone who would make such a decision lightly.”

He scoffs inwardly but doesn’t show it on his face. “She did, eomma. And now I’m left to figure out what’s next. I thought she would be someone I could rely on, but now…”

He trails off, letting the unspoken words hang in the air.

Your mother’s eyes soften with sympathy, but Jungkook doesn’t want her sympathy.

He doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him. He’s not here to be pitied. He’s here to make sure she knows that, in the end, he’s still in control of the situation.

no matter how much it hurts him.

“And I think there is something else that you should know about your daughter too..” he smirks, but quickly masks it. You don’t seem to be at home.

Of course, because you’re busy planning with your friends on how to escape him.

But you have no idea on what awaits you.

[rxgerthatt]

even satan used to be an angel

Pairing : Lloyd Hansen x reader

Summary : Lloyd Hansen is an ass. You’re in denial.

Warnings : smut/18+/descriptions of gunshot

A/N : man I’m on a roll! Enjoy babies!

“So angel face, I hear we’re working together.”

You fucking hate Lloyd Hansen.

Even when he leans over your desk now, smug smile on his face - cocky, brazen attitude on his chest like a badge - it’s hard not to punch him square in the face. You keep it together with a deep breath.

“Unfortunately,” you say, looking back down at the paperwork before you.

Lloyd chuckles, hand tilting your chin to look at him but you turn away, cut a glance in his direction - the iciest you could muster.

You’d argued with your boss - please, anyone but him, please - well, more like begged, but at that point you didn’t care. You would do anything to get out of working with Hansen, and you mean anything.

“Awh, don’t be like that sunshine!” He laughs before his voice drops lower. “We’ll make a great team.”

You’ll believe that when you see it.

—

It’s a fucking sleeper agent.

No intel, no name and this job was about to be so much longer than you needed it to be. You were sure by the end of it you will have lost your sanity completely.

To make matters worse, your lead is your home town. It had been years since you’d been home and with any other company you reckon you would be happy about it, but it wasn’t any other company - it was Lloyd fucking Hansen.

“Jesus - it’s fucking hot,” Lloyd blows out a breath of air - dramatic. “How did you live here?”

You look at him incredulously, “not all of us had a trust fund at the age of seven.”

Lloyd laughs, a deep belly chuckle, white gleaming teeth peaking out from a perfectly styled moustache. How was this guy an agent? He looked like he should be at the fucking social club.

You lead the way to the safe house - your old home.

It sat alone, an old style plantation home just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans. It was surrounded by lush nature. Ivy climbed like veins up the sides of the building - twisting and pulsing with life. Your parents left it for you - they’re only daughter - and you had little time to look after it given your job.

“You sure you didn’t have a trust fund at seven?” Lloyd asks.

“Shut up,” you reply, fetching the key from a rock placed perfectly on the patio.

The house had remained untouched - cobwebs making homes in corners long forgotten. The stairwell stretched in front of you as you walked in, white paint peeling from a wooden banister, you mothers old ornaments dusty and dull compared to what you remember.

You catch Lloyd studying a family picture. You’re 19 in it - little pink sundress with white sneakers and sun kissed skin - the sweetest smile in New Orleans. You hated reminiscing.

“You look like your mother,” he commented. “She’s hot.”

You roll your eyes, “have you always got to be this insufferable?”

“Yes,” he responds with a smile. “You’ll come around, they always do.”

Yeah - right.

—

You follow a lead to an old cafe at the end of St Louis.

It brings back memories you don’t want to unbox. A quaint little building, striped gazebo and open planned - the inside lit with warm lanterns, bathing everything in a golden glow.

You used to come here after school with friends - their pastries were to die for. Now you were here with your greatest nemesis - looking for a faceless man. Or woman, who were you to judge.

“Ah! Y/N! My darling!”

You remember Annalise. She knew your parents well, used to watch you on a Thursday afternoon when your mom was on the back shift. She pulls you into a bear hug.

“How are you Annalise?” You ask her, reciprocating her affection. Lloyd smirks as he watches the interaction. Smug prick.

Your dislike for him ran deep in your veins, and you don’t use the word ‘hate’ lightly. Typically you give people a chance - give them time and you’ll warm up to them. You’d known Lloyd Hansen for five years, and you were still waiting for the switch to flip.

“I’m well,” Annalise replies and it’s only then you notice how much she had aged. Skin like wet leather, hair as white as snow and you don’t remember her being as hunched as she is now. You imagine she was thinking the same.

You catch her looking at Lloyd and you hope to god she doesn’t ask-

“And who’s this?” She smiles. Fuck sake.

Before you can speak, Lloyd is stretching a thick arm towards her, “nice to meet you ma’am, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend Lloyd.”

You bristle, words caught in your throat because that was low. You knew he was sneaky but fuck. Annalise makes a squeak before grabbing both of your hands - you’re too busy cutting Lloyd a deadly glance to share her excitement.

“Oh! I can tell you so many stories about Y/N when she was young-“

“That will be unnecessary,” you cut her off. Lloyd begins laughing beside you and you feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment. You decide then that this is the worst mission you had ever been on.

Your boss would be signing your resignation upon return.

“We’re actually looking for someone Annalise,” Lloyd turns on his charm and you notice the way the older lady melts. If only her husband could see this.

He turns his phone with an updated picture HQ had sent in this morning. It was of a young man - the assumed suspect.

“Oh yes! He lives near the swamp. Be careful down there, lotta gators.”

You look down at Lloyd’s slip ons with a complacent grin.

“You’ll need to change your slippers.”

—

So, turns out the suspect is in possession of some really valuable intel.

You found this out when it hit you and Lloyd in the face, a cloud of colour - purple, blue and fuck knows what else because it was down your throat, in your eyes.

All in all not a great experience.

“What the fuck!” You heard Lloyd shout. He’s coughing, waving his hands about erratically - finger on the trigger and bang.

Well - the suspect is dead.

Your vision comes back, granted it’s blurry and your eyes are sensitive but at least you weren’t blind - yet.

A bullet hole, right in the centre of his forehead - leaking blood, parts of his brain in his lap and his skin was already turning a bluish grey. Maybe that was just the dingy lighting.

You’re lightheaded, skull pushing against your brain and it’s not long before you’re throwing up the contents of your stomach, skin slicked in sweat with a sudden heat that was completely unbearable.

“Hey sugar,” Lloyds hand is on your back. “We gotta get you out of here.”

Lloyd looks funny. He’s in a purple filter, face contorting every time you blink and it makes you giggle uncontrollably.

“You’re so handsome.”

That has him concerned.

He lifts you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. The sun blinds you, the steady sway makes you titter even more and you feel Lloyd shaking. He’s laughing now too?

This really isn’t good.

—

By some miracle you end up back at your house.

A call to your boss confirms the worst. It was some kind of pollen you had both inhaled - Fibre 2.0 they were calling it - a truth pollen to put it simply. Any poor asshole that consumed it could tell nothing but the harsh punch of truth.

You’re sitting on the sofa - filter falling from your mouth and you’re telling Lloyd about your life in New Orleans. He’s listening, staring at you with eyes like cherry pies - wide and sweet and so unlike himself.

“I’ve had a crush on you since the training academy,” he blurts.

“Me too,” you surprise him.

It’s not long before he has you bent over the kitchen table, black panties at your ankles as he pounds into you from behind and oh - if your mother could see you now.

But it felt too damn good to care.

“You’re the hottest,” he grunts, pushing his cock into places you didn’t know existed and knocking the breath from your lungs in a minty puff. Your insides curl with pleasure, an undeniable pressure building in your groin and you moan like a fucking porn star as you grip the table.

“Thanks,” you manage to squeeze out. “You’ve got a great dick.”

“Thanks,” he replies, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

The orgasm hits like a wave of warm water, stealing the thoughts from your brain and you’re a mumbling fucking mess for Lloyd Hansen.

Fuck Fibre 2.0.

He finishes on your back, cleans you up afterwards and helps you to the sofa. It’s oddly caring, affectionate and you can’t help but point that out because you need to say everything that comes into your head.

“You’re being nice,” you pant.

“I’m nice when I want to be,” he slumps beside you. “Plus, that was the best sex I’ve had in my life. You deserve me being nice.”

“I’ll remember that Lloyd.”

—

You argue when the pollen wears off.

“It’s a truth pollen sunshine!” He shouts from the bottom step, you standing above him. “Which only means one thing. Oh! I know! You were telling the truth!”

“I don’t give a fuck what it was!” You scream, stomach cringing and you really hated yourself right now. “I don’t like you!”

“Boring,” he sing-songs and your fury bursts as you throw an ornament at his head. He dodges, narrowing his gaze back towards you.

“You can be in-denial all you want angel face,” he’s pointing a finger at you now - he’s hot when he’s pissed. “You and I know the truth - you want a bit of the Hansen.”

Give me a break.

You turn away, marching up the flight of stairs to your bedroom with a wave of your hand.

“Keep dreaming Hansen.”

—

It’s you who ends up dreaming.

Replaying the feeling of him deep inside you - over and over again. Your shorts were soaked through, a deep pulsing in your intimate area that had you whining because you needed that release.

The release only he could give you.

It was 4 am. He was surely asleep - you could just check. God! You were weak! Right now, your word meant jack shit. Like dirt on the bottom of your shoe and it was all because of that pollen. If you hadn’t inhaled that, you would have never fucked him and you wouldn’t be feeling like this!

Right?

A sudden thought of - what if the hatred I feel isn’t hatred at all? - crosses your mind and you want to bat it away as quickly as it comes. It sticks like gum and before you know it you’re standing outside his door.

What am I doing?

Before you can turn the door is open. He’s shirtless, eyes squinting as he adjusts to being awake and you’d never seen him so undone.

“Angel, it’s 4 in the morning-“

You kiss him, push him into the room and he’s caught off guard momentarily before he’s kissing you back. It’s a heated kiss - all tongue and teeth clashing together, but you couldn’t ignore how you felt anymore.

Pushing him onto the bed you drop to the floor, unbuckling his belt to reveal an already hard cock - staring you right in the face, judging you because -

Look at you now.

You don’t allow yourself to think anymore, taking his cock into your mouth you feel a swell of pride when he melts before you. Maybe you were looking at this all wrong because who had that affect on Lloyd Hansen?

He breaths heavy as you bob up and down, taking him like a pro, spit dripping down your chin in the most lurid way but you didn’t give a fuck.

“Holy s-shit angel,” he croaks. “You’re too good at that.”

He’s pulling you from the floor, laying you down on the bed with something about how that’s not how this works before he’s pushing into you.

Like a match to gasoline your body comes alive. You wiggle beneath him, trying to accommodate his thick girth and he takes your tit into his mouth.

“Fuck, you’ve got the best tits,” he groans. “Always knew you were hiding something special under those cat suits.”

You moan in reply as he begins to move, a steady rhythm, not like the brutal pounding in the kitchen. No, this was passionate, slow and deliberate like he wanted to make it last forever.

God, you hope it would.

There’s a squelch that starts from the joining of your bodies and it only serves to bring you closer to release. You pant, holding his arm with one of yours to keep you from drowning in the waters of your own pleasure.

He grunts as you squeeze him, the metaphorical coil in your stomach snapping with such force it makes you stretch your spine. You gasp for breath and he’s not far behind you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and pressing a kiss there.

The question of whether he wanted you to leave was soon answered when he pulled you under the covers, wrapping you in strong arms and holding you there.

“I could be good for you,” he says so uncharacteristically. “I don’t like a lotta people sugar, but I like you.”

He’s being honest. As honest as he had been not even 48 hours ago. You knew Lloyd, you’d known him a long time. He was a good liar, but not that good.

You offer him a smile, “you’re not all bad Hansen.”

Sure - he’s tortured the fuck out of some people, but you were no angel. You had more than enough kills under your belt to warrant that trip down the River Styx.

“So when we’re back, you’ll let me take you for dinner?” He asks hopeful, you see that twinkle in his eyes.

“Sure,” you reply, laying your head back on his chest and you feel it release a pressure.

Did you make Lloyd Hansen nervous?

How many times had you answered that question differently? Let me take you out sugar? Let me show you a good time? Be mine angel face?

You suppose even Satan was an angel once.

[trashmammal69]

I love your mitsuru and yukari fic had me pacing around my room (aaaaaah the meeting back up again !!!!) (Kotone!!!!!!)

Ahhh!! Tysm!! Also, HOLY SHIT I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while! Did not expect writer's block to hit me so hard! But I *have* started writing ch 3! As an apology for the uhh... delays... (and as thanks for the kind words!) you're getting an extra special sneak peek at the opening of ch 3! It's still wip, but I hope you enjoy, and that it *somewhat* makes up for the drought. Enjoy!

Yukari hopped up the stairs of the dorm and stepped inside. She was greeted by the familiar ambiance of the building, the cheap fluorescent lighting and mildewy wallpaper making her feel at home. She made sure to give Koromaru a fond pet and kiss on the forehead before strolling into the lounge. The only person there at the moment was Junpei, who was mashing buttons on a small handheld.

"Yo, Yukari! 'Sup?"

She sat down on the sofa across from him, and dropped her shoulders, "Not much..."

He looked up from from his game, "Somethin' on your mind?"

Yukari bit her lip, wondering if Junpei was really the best person to talk to about this, but she replied anyway, "Um, Junpei, what does it feel like when you talk to Chidori?"

At the mere mention of her, Junpei's face lit up, "Chidorita, eh? Well, I'm always excited to visit her, obviously, and each time we talk, I feel a bit antsy... but like, in a good way!"

"Huh..." Yukari fidgeted with her hands.

"Anyway, why do you ask?" He gasped, and put on a sing-songy voice, "Yukari, do you *liiike* someone?"

She groaned, "I don't know! Maybe? I mean--no! I think..." She put her head in her hands, "ugh, this is so confusing..."

Junpei chuckled, "Tell ya what, you tell me how you feel about him, and I'll use my *Ace Detective* skills, and give you my expert opinion."

Yukari snickered, "Alright, 'Ace Detective' I guess I'll tell." She drummed her fingers along her knees as she explained her feelings, "Um, this is *so* embarrassing, but... I'm always really looking forward to seeing them. Which is something I don't really feel about people? But with them, it's different. I feel so light every time we hang out, or even just talk. It makes me happy, just being with them."

She looked up, and was met with a shit-eating grin plastered across Junpei's face.

"Dude, you have got it *bad*."

Yukari leaned her head back over the sofa, and sighed, "I hate to admit it, but you're probably right."

"So," he said, "who is it?"

She considered turning back now, considered waving the details aside and never bringing up the matter again. But... she had already come this far...

"It's..." Yukari groaned. "I can't believe *you're* the first one I'm telling about about this."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" He sputtered.

Yukari shot him a glare.

"Know what? Never mind. Continue."

"It's..." She winced. "It's... a girl..."

Instantly, a toothy smile formed on Junpei's face, "Oooooo, you got a hankerin' for the ladies, huh?"

"Ugh, shut it, Stupei! You got a problem with that?!"

He laughed, and raised his hands defensively, "Not at all! You should like what you like, y'know?"

He leaned forward, "So, what lovely lady has caught your eye?"

After rolling her eyes, she relented, "It's... Kotone."

Junpei seemed elated, "Dude! I totally get that! She's super sweet, and a real cutie, to boot."

Yukari flushed, "Jeez, you don't need to lay it all out like that!"

"But you do agree, right?"

"I mean, yeah... she *is* really cute."

He beamed, "Man, this is great news! You two would be perfect together! Oh! Can I be your wingman?!"

"Not in a million years, Junpei."

"What?! I'd be great at it! I'd even teach you some of my pick up lines!"

She snickered, "I don't know what's worse, your pickup lines, or the fact they might actually work on Kotone."

"Now you're talking!" He laughed, "Seriously though, you need any help with her, I'm your guy." He shot her double finger guns and a wink.

"I'll think about it...."

"I'm not hearin' a no!"

"You know, you are super annoying sometimes." She chuckled. "But... thanks. I think talking about this really helped."

"Anytime, dude."

Before heading upstairs, she snapped around and jabbed a finger at him. "Oh, and if you tell *anyone* about this, it's curtains, got it?"

Junpei made a zipper motion over his mouth and gave a thumbs up, "Your secret's safe with me!"

"It better be! I mean it!"

[maeleelee]

“She’s mine.”

This is a little drabble I decided to write. I had a request for Jamie Hayter but there wasn’t anything else on the request so I took matters into my hands. 

Details: Jamie is a mafia boss, she’s pretty good at what she does. Aspen comes in to town and Jamie wants her. 

This is a AU imagine. I am dyslexic so there might be misspelled wrongs. Please forgive me. Give me feed back please! I am write part two if you guys would like. 

This is ridiculous.” She huffed at her men. “She was right there, ya idiots!” They looked down and the head man, Adam, stepped up. “Jamie, she had her friends with her. There were a few actually, so there was no way to get her without them jumping in.” “You were suppose to just give her the paper, you duff.” She wanted to scream. She wanted Aspen under her wing. They would make the perfect ring leaders but Aspen had her own thing going on. Somehow Aspen had gotten into the business around here, when this area was Jamie’s. She owns everything in this town. Aspen had weaseled her way into James life by trying to buy some of the area in town. No one would say yes until they talked to James of course. Jamie let her buy a small bar in town so she could keep an eye on her. Aspen was on a no hurt list. Jamie however figured she’d have to do the work herself, since no one else could do it right. Jamie decided to go out for the night, only bringing her two friends, Britt and Rebel, however her guard, Adam, refused for her to go without him. Once they pulled up to the bar, everyone there was staring. Jamie rolled her eyes and walked inside. Aspen had changed stuff around. The bar was updated, as well as the booths. The dance floor was lit up and there were people dancing, drunk enough not to pay attention to Jamie walking in. Aspen smiled and waved at them. “Welcome to my Bar, The Sip. We server the best. What can I get for you ladies?” She looked at Adam and smiled. “And gent.” Jamie was in all. This girl was everything she wanted. She was cute and kind, caring even. Jamie looked at the group and then back to Aspen. “Four beers, whatever you pick is fine.” Aspen nodded, then turned to look at the taps. Jamie started to look around again. People watching as Britt would tell her. Nothing looked like Aspen. Nothing was standing out, as was no one else. Aspen had everything Jamie wanted for sure. “Aspen, where is my money?” The group turned to the man at the end of the bar. “I told you I’ll have it. I still have a week until rent is due.” Jamie was confused. She was informed Aspen bought this place out right. Jamie let her buy it. The man had lied to her and that was a no go. She didn’t deal with liars very well. Adam looked at Jamie and was asking if she wanted him to deal with the man. She shook her head. “Aspen, I told you, I need the money now.” Aspen rolled her eyes and looked at the guy as she poured the beers. “It’s not my fault you gambled all the money away that I gave you last month. I told you to get help. I don’t have the money.” The guy grabbed Aspen by the shirt and pulled her to him over the bar. “If you don’t give me that money.” Aspen nodded and acting like she would until she grabbed the man by the back of the neck and smashed his face onto the counter. “Don’t touch me, you’ll get the money next week.” He groaned as he went to walk away. His nose was definitely broken and it was pouring blood. Jamie snickered at the man. As he got close to the door, Jamie turned to Adam. “Take him back to the house. I’ll handle him when I get back.” She whispered to him. He smiled, finished his beer, and walked out the door. They had found a booth to hang out in. Aspen walked over and placed three more beers on the table and winked as she walked away. Jamie got up and walked to the bar where Aspen was just getting back to. “Oh, did I get you the wrong beer?” Jamie smiled and shook her head. “No ma’am. I was actually going to ask for your name.” Aspens face got hot and you could tell she was flustered. “Aspen, Aspen Indigo. And you are?” “I’m Jamie. Jamie Hayter.” Aspens eyes grew as she realized who was in front of her. “Are you here to take my bar back?” Jamie shook her head. “No actually, I was informed you had bought it out right. So I’m going to make sure you have no rent left. I stick to my word when I let people buy from me, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” Aspen looked back at Jamie. “Rent isn’t a problem. I make more than enough.” Jamie shook her head. “Then you’ll put that money up into savings. You’re not gonna feed that man’s habit anymore. Promise.” Aspen smiled. “Thank you.” Jamie grabbed Aspens hand and held her pinky out and put it around Aspens pinky. “You can thank me by letting me take you out. On a date. Tomorrow, if you’re free.” Aspen grew even more red and nodded. “I’d love that.” Jamie kissed Aspens pinky. “I’ll pick you up at 8.” Jamie said as she walked back to the booth.

[okinawa-division]

It’s just that Japan has turned around into the midsummer —The perfect time to enjoy a beach trip for most people.

Once a certain jet-black car has reached its destination at one of the best hot-spots being reviewed in Okinawa, the boy with reddish hair has been spotted stepping out of the car …with a number of boxes in his arms. 

The seashell chimes hanging above the bar’s doors let out their lovely rattling sound as he gets inside.

“Good afternoon, mister. Are you perhaps Mr. Young of Eagle’s Nest? I’m Yuuya Kanata from Nara division. I’m here today to relay the birthday presents from my team.”

“This box is my gift. They may look all yummy but they are in fact scented candles I found nice. If by any chance, I think they will make good decorations to your bar at nighttime. Their smells are quite something too. This one has a vanilla scent, this one is strawberry milkshake, this one is butter cream, and many more —Well, they all smell like desserts in my opinion.”

And then he brings out a cooler box. 

“Okay, these ones are actually edible haha. They’re Monaka ice cream made from my teammate despite him telling me that making ice cream isn’t really his land of expertise. Even so, he expects something cool like ice cream would sell off rather well in summer and more particularly; maybe somewhere with a tropical climate like in Okinawa. And in case you want to be more creative with them, the empty shells (crispy wafer) are also available in the additional bag.”

“From Saigo-san are the beautifully painted ceramic plates and the last one is from Mr. Chishio —Hmm, the latter is like… the assistant of Saigo-san? Honestly, just how many jobs this guy has been carrying under that title. I don’t know why, but Mr. Chishio seems to know your place rather well even before we entered the DRB. He even asked me to tell you ‘Thank you for the trading’ and give me his own gift for you.”

Inside the box from the guy called Chishio are a collection of kitchen knives for various uses ...Just don’t get the wrong idea. Japanese are known for using different knives for each different role in the kitchen. So, the ultimate motive behind this gift is only for cooking …Definitely, not for murdering someone, maybe?

“And that’s all we’ve got for you today. Lastly, Happy Birthday Mr. Young —EH? YOU ALSO GOT A KITTY?” 

Seemingly distracted for a minute, the boy soon keeps his composure back from petting the kitten a couple of times. 

“…It’s a shame that I’ve to fetch some seafoods for my teammates before dinnertime, so let me say a good-bye for today. Nevertheless, hope you and your teammates all have a nice year!”

——— BONUS: about fifteen minutes ago

Chishio: We’ve already arrived at the bar so why don’t we order some liquor on our way home?

Yuuya: How do you forget that I’m still underage and alcohol seems likely to be downright sedative to me? What wicked humor you have today, Chishio-san. At least don’t convince your minor to be your drinking friend!

Chishio: *chuckles* Aren't you 19 this year, kid?

Rashaad smiled at the handful of gifts he had received from the Nara Division. Truthfully, he wasn't all that familiar with them, though he did know of them. It was one of the many perks of being a bartender; you knew just about everyone in Japan, whether they had revealed themselves or not. He made a mental note that he'd have to interact with the Nara team later on when he had some free time. Before he departed, the bar owner disappeared quickly into his bar before returning with a bottle of sake and some cups.

"For Chishio-san and Fuyugami-san," Rashaad stated, handing him the bottle and the cups. "Tell them to make sure it's thoroughly heated first."

Bidding the young teenager a farewell, Rashaad looked at the gifts he had received. Out of all of them, the candles were perhaps his favorite. Opening a random one, he quickly lit it with his lighter. In a matter of seconds, the entire bar seemed to smell like some fruity cereal, making Rashaad nod his head, enjoying the aroma.

Sitting down on one of the stools in his bar, he chose the vanilla and chocolate parfait as he began digging into it, eating it was his hands. He heard a small 'purr' from above and looked as it was his kitten, Coco, whom Rashaad had forgotten was on top of his head. Looking up at him, he placed a small thing of ice cream on one of the plates, Fuyugami-san had given him.

The feline, not needing to be told twice, dug into the sweet milky treat, using his small tongue to eat it. The scene made Rashaad grin; this birthday was truly shaping up to be, perhaps, his best upon leaving the States.

Thanks for the gift!

[hottpinkpenguin]

Joel Miller X Fem!Reader - Last of Us - Part 2

A/N: read part 1 here!

Warnings: hints of sexual violence (no descriptions); dark themes; post-apocalyptic dystopia; death of reader's minor child; probably a lot of non-canon details since I've never played the game; not proofread; spoilers if you haven't seen the show/played the game Word Count: 2650 Abbreviations: QZ = quarantine zone; FDRA "Fedra" = Federal Disaster Response Agency

----

“You look like hell, Joel.”

“K.”

Tessa looked Joel up and down, making a point to grimace as she did. 

“What, am I too ugly to do business with or something?” Joel’s tone was biting, his patience running thin. The restlessness in his bones was gnawing something awful today.

“Where’d your pet go?”

Joel’s stare was flat, but Tessa knew him well enough to see the slight jump in his jaw muscle as he clenched his teeth momentarily.

“My pet?”

“Yeah, that sad sack with the dead kid.” 

Joel’s knuckles turned white on the back of the chair he was leaning on. 

“What are you talk-”

“Oh come on, Joel. Don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like every other stupid fuck around here.” Tessa gestured around the dimly lit basement where she’d met Joel for the swap. They were alone, but Joel knew who she was referring to. Her crew. Good at stealing, running, and turning profits, but not amusing to her the way he was. Joel didn’t react, he just kept staring at her.

“It’s my job to know what my guys are up to,” Tessa pointed out as if she were explaining something to a young child. 

“I’m not one of your guys,” Joel countered through gritted teeth. “The only thing we need to know about each other is what I have and what you’ll pay for it.” He looked pointedly at the half-smoked pack of cigarettes, sawed off shotgun, and car battery on the table between them. 

Tessa chewed on the inside of her lip as she looked up at him. The bare lightbulb overhead cast harsh shadows on her face. 

“That wasn’t always true, though.” Her voice was softer now, a hint of playfulness in her tone. An invitation. She smirked up at him coquettishly. Joel shook his head, trying to shake out the memories that expression brought to mind. 

“That was a mistake, Tessa.” 

“A good one, though. Sometimes good mistakes are worth making a few times.” 

Joel shook his head, exhaling softly. He should have known better. Never put your prick where you put your money. 

“No, Tessa.”

“Come on, Joel. Just for old time’s sake.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Tessa’s eyes turned from flirtatious to bitter as the smile melted from her lips. 

“So she was your pet.”

Joel felt himself tense up. This was a game that he really didn’t want to play. Tessa was a dangerous woman. He’d done well to stay on her good side for so many years, but this had been a serious miscalculation. He shouldn’t have plucked at her jealousy by bringing you into the mix. 

“She wasn’t anything,” he insisted. He kept his tone even, forced himself to hold Tessa’s accusing gaze. Tessa had a good bullshit meter, but she was blind when it came to Joel. He’d used that a few times before, but this was a moment when it really mattered. He couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you. 

A heavy tension settled between them as Tessa took a drag of her cigarette. Joel swallowed down a surge of anger at the oblique threat to your safety. 

“Fine.” Tessa stood up quickly, tamping out the end of her cigarette on the table and surveying its contents. “I’ll give you eight for the lot.” 

Joel ran a hand through his graying hair in exasperation. 

“That’s less than half of what we agreed on.”

“Yeah, it is.” Tessa knocked on the metal door behind her. It swung open, two of her lackeys swooping in to scoop up the contraband that Joel had brought her. Tessa grabbed a duffel bag from one of them, unzipping a side pocket and rifling through a dirty, wrinkled stack of meal cards. She pulled out eight pink slips and thrust them towards Joel. He knew better than to argue, and took them begrudgingly. 

“You’re screwing me on this, Tessa.” 

“And you’re screwing her.” Tessa’s voice was low. Joel didn’t miss the pain in her words. “In your dreams or in reality. Either way, you’re screwing her.” 

Joel opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. His mouth snapped close. Tessa nodded in confirmation. She zipped up the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

“So this is about me not picking you?” Joel couldn’t stop the question from slipping out. He could have kicked himself for the fucking stupidity. 

Tessa froze halfway up the first step of the stairwell behind the door. She half-turned back to him. On the other side of the doorframe, her entire face was cast in shadow. 

“Partially. But partially because I can’t trust you anymore.”

“How do you figure that?” Joel stuffed the eight cards into the back pocket of his jeans, sensing that their conversation was coming to an end. He didn’t want to linger any longer than he needed. 

“Because. You’re not a free agent anymore, Joel. You’ve got something to lose. Which means people can get to you. And if they can get to you, they can get to me.” 

Tessa didn’t wait for him to reply before she started up the stairs. The door behind her swung shut, leaving Joel alone with the bare lightbulb and a jolt of fear in his gut that confirmed one thing:

Tessa was right. 

*****

The frozen ground crunched under your knees as you knelt down in front of the lopsided piece of wood that marked Gabriel’s grave. He wasn’t buried there, of course; FDRA confiscated all the corpses. What they did with them from there, you couldn’t let yourself think about. But you’d buried his favorite pair of sneakers and the tattered Captain America comic book he loved so much in this spot. It had been weeks since you’d visited. 

“Hi, baby.” You patted the cold, hard soil in front of his grave marker with a trembling hand. The frigid January air had gnawed your fingertips numb.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

In the distance, a raven cawed. 

“Things have been… well, they’ve been bad since you left.”

The abandoned lot you’d buried Gabriel in was overgrown with vines. It had been a playground once. A rusted swing set lay overturned on its side a few feet from where you knelt. Behind it, a monkey bar and slide combo emerged from the weeds. Gabriel used to like to play here when he was little. Eddie would take him on the rare days he had off. 

“I miss you.” You choked on the words, feeling your resolve beginning to fracture as tears burned the corners of your eyes. You swiped them away as your nose started to run. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m trying to do better. I’m trying, baby.” 

Next to the wooden stake with Gabriel’s name roughly carved into it, a second stake stuck out from the ground. It was more worn and weathered after years of sun and rain. Eddie’s name was barely visible anymore. Like Gabriel, Eddie also wasn’t buried here, but this was where you chose to remember him. 

“I love you both.” Two hands on the ground this time. One in front of each of your boys. A tear slid free from your cheek and slapped onto the frosted ground between your knees. 

“I’ll visit more, I promise.” You rose from your knees, tucking your frozen hands under your armpits with a shiver.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

Your body went still, icy dread shooting through your veins. You knew that voice. 

“Just paying my respects, Dirk.” 

You turned to face Dirk Reynolds, keeping your face in a mask of calm. He was the last person you wanted to run into out here so far from the rest of the QZ. 

“Sorry to hear about your boy.” Dirk sounded anything but sorry. He was walking towards you slowly, eyeing you like prey. You fought the urge to run, but the sight of the FDRA-issued semi-automatic in his hands made you think twice. 

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Actually, it meant dog shit to you, but Dirk Reynolds wasn’t a man to play with. Even Eddie had been afraid of him, and Eddie was as fearless as they came. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of how alone the two of you were.

“You’re all alone now, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but take a half step back. He was still a good fifteen paces from you, but too close for comfort. His words set your teeth on edge. 

“I like to come out here by myself. Get some peace and quiet.” You knew that wasn’t the kind of alone Dirk was getting at, but you were desperate to change the subject. His brown, bloodshot eyes raked you up one side and down the other. Despite the layers of clothing you’d piled on to try and fight off the Boston winter, his gaze made you feel woefully underdressed. 

“That ain’t what I meant, y/n.” His voice dropped an octave, practically turning into a growl. He kept moving closer to you, taking his time, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’m getting by,” you stammered back. “Mrs. Hughes and her girls are good to me. They look out for me.” You wondered if Dirk would back down knowing that there were people who might miss you if you stayed out too long. Mrs. Hughes and her daughters were good to you, but you doubted that they’d notice your absence until well past curfew. God knows what shape Dirk would have you in by then. Your throat went dry and you felt your lip start to tremble.

“You look scared, y/n. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He was close enough that you could hear the frost-stiff ground crunch under his feet.

“I- I know.” Your reply wasn’t convincing in the least. Because you knew one thing: Dirk Reynolds would hurt you. You’d heard plenty of stories from the other women who lived near you in the QZ. 

“I look out for my friends. And I’ve got plenty of friends around here. I could treat you real good. Keep you warm, comfortable. Keep you safe.” Dirk lingered on the last word, a thinly veiled threat. 

“I’m sure. And we all appreciate everything you do for us. Truly.” 

Dirk was FDRA, but he was also something of a self-styled neighborhood mafioso. He took bribes from all the drug dealers, smugglers, and pimps in the four block radius where you lived, and in exchange Dirk turned a blind eye to their goings and comings. You remembered him from when you’d first gotten to the QZ. He’d been a fat, boastful lecher back then. The twenty years since had seen him shed the beer gut and hone a real violent streak. He wasn’t the brightest man you’d met by half, but you couldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. You hoped your appeal to his ego would work. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you showed me some of that appreciation.” 

You fell back another half step, your hands still raised in the air like it was a stick up. The fact that he hadn’t told you to put them down told you enough about his intentions. 

“What… Dirk, I- uh, I’m not ready… For all that. Still grie-grieving.” You could barely speak, the sheer panic ringing in your ears like bells. He was close enough to reach out and touch you now. You started calculating the chances of making it if you took off in a run. That gun he held in his hands gave you pause. You’d seen what Dirk did to some of the women who’d turned down his advances. And you’d known a few women - by face only - who’d mysteriously disappeared. There were rumors, of course, that Dirk had something to do with it; but up until now, you’d been able to wave those rumors off. You had other worries to pay attention to. But now, all you could think about was getting away. You didn’t think you’d make it very far before he shot you. And despite everything you’d lost, the terror pulsing in your blood told you that you weren’t ready to die. Not yet. 

“Y/N! There you are!” A vaguely familiar voice called out to you from over Dirk’s shoulder. You kept yourself completely still as Dirk’s face darkened in irritation, grunting angrily as he spun around to face the source of the sound. 

Joel Miller was striding across the frozen carpet of vines at the northeast corner of the empty playground, waving at you like you were an old friend. Your knees almost buckled in relief at the sight. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I wish you’d told me you’d come out here to see Gabriel.” Your heart twitched at the sound of your son’s name. An idle corner of your thoughts wondered how Joel knew that’s why you were here, but that was a question for later. With Dirk distracted, you made your move. You scurried around Dirk, careful not to get close enough to let him grab you, and made a beeline for Joel. You had to consciously fight the urge to run.

“Sir, I appreciate you looking after her.” Joel’s tone was sunny and friendly. A little too obsequious, you thought, but maybe that was because you knew Joel was putting on a show for Dirk’s benefit. 

You closed the distance between you and Joel quickly, the skin on your back prickling in a frenzy to get away from Dirk. 

“Get behind me,” Joel whispered to you through gritted teeth when you were in earshot. His voice was low and urgent, but the smile he wore for show never faltered.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Dirk’s reply was casual, but his tone was threatening and coarse. “Pretty little thing like that shouldn’t be alone in these parts. Can’t be too careful. All kinds of things slipping through the wall these days.” You knew Dirk was referring to the infected that occasionally broke into the QZ through the maze of dilapidated buildings, subway tunnels, and sewers. For your part, you’d have gladly traded the open city to get as far away from Dirk’s leering stare as possible. 

“That’s what I tell her, once a day if it’s twelve times. Isn’t it?” Joel turned to you, obscuring his face from Dirk’s view. There was a question in his eyes: did he hurt you. You shook your head quickly, letting your eyes fall to the ground. You sidled closer to Joel’s shoulder. He noted the movement and casually shifted his weight to step squarely between you and Dirk.

“We’ll go on and head back then. Don’t want to miss curfew. Thanks for your help, again. I won’t let her out of my sight, that’s a promise.” Joel turned away from Dirk, gesturing with his eyes for you to walk towards the boarded up building at the far end of the playground. He kept himself behind you, between you and Dirk. 

“Make sure you do that,” Dirk called out after the two of you. His voice was bitter and dark.

“Keep walking. Don’t look back,” Joel urged. He hovered a hand on your lower back, his touch so light you thought you imagined it. Despite the remnants of fear crackling in your nerves, his touch sent a gentle wave of warmth up your spine. You felt the terror subside slightly. 

You let Joel lead you silently back to his apartment. The two of you never shared a word, but there was a clear understanding that you wouldn’t be going home. It wasn’t until you stepped through the familiar doorway that you let out the faintest smile at the promise Joel had made: I won’t let her out of my sight. You knew the promise had been made under duress, but you sincerely hoped he was serious.

read part 3 here! **let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[loveandmurders]

Knife and fire : meeting Michael at the asylum headcanons

Hello everyone! This is my first try with Michael Myers. It is based on Rob Zombie’s first movie. This movie depicts my favourite version of Michael so it felt the most natural to write for it.

Hope you’ll enjoy as it is different from what I did so far on this blog.

Also more or less a female reader (squint hard enough and it’s gender neutral), with no description (not even for the outfit)

Warnings: psychopath!reader, pyromane!reader, abusive family, mentions of violent murders, one or two strong words, negative perceptions of sex workers.

You were 16 when you arrived in that sort of prison for dangerous kids in which Michael was already locked up for 7 years.

Unlike Michael, you weren’t quiet and everyone could hear your screams of pure anger and despair echoing around the corridors. It seemed you never grew tired of shouting, as if your whole being had so much anger locked inside for too long, that now it had to release the pressure.

Which was actually what was happening. You were exploding like an atomic bomb and it felt like a wave of relief hitting you over and over again, no matter how much your throat was starting to hurt.

You were a pyromane and had already burnt several houses before you got caught.

You loved to see the fire dancing for you. It was so beautiful. The bright colours were attracting you, but not as much as the fact that fire was the essence of pure power.

A power that was destroying everything in its terrible pace.

A power that was putting to an end anything or anyone who ever hurt you. It made you feel safe and warm. 

So far, the fire was the only source of happiness you ever had.

Actually you got caught once you burnt your own family’s house, with all of them inside of it.

It was your birthday party, and you had insisted for your mother to call for all the family members to be there, for once. 

She didn’t realise what you had planned or that your silent anger of years of abuse was bringing a very dark part of yourself to the surface.

For once, you greeted all the negative comments or fake smiles with a bright one on your face. You even laughed when your uncle said you were going to end in the street, pleasuring guys for a living as you were a dumb useless piece of meat.

Your cousins started to laugh too and asked their father if he was going to fuck you once you would be a “whore”.

“Well let’s see” you said and you exited the house, as if you were already ready to prostitute yourself, like he advised.

They all laughed even more, not realising you were finishing your job of locking them inside the house. 

You had already blocked all the windows by breaking their security system. You had locked and threw the key of the back door away, and now you just had to lock the front door for them to be trapped inside.

You also had spread oil in the bedrooms upstairs and on the carpets downstairs.

You had prepared a little cocktail molotov and had hidden it close to the house. You lit it up and instantly felt so good.

Your family was watching you, without understand what the fuck you were doing, until you smashed the window with a brick before throwing the cocktail inside. It landed on the living room carpet and burnt your uncle’s legs who started to cry out in pain.

After that, it went too quickly for your mind to remember everything, but your soul fed on the chaos you brought and you enjoyed the show very much.

You could hear your family screaming and begging you, and you only smiled and waved at them. 

You realised you loved to listen to their pleas. It made you feel so powerful.

You were the goddess of the fire and chaos.

For the first time in forever, your mind was fully at peace, as you were smiling to yourself and humming a little song too.

“Burn it down, burn it down, burn it down”.

The neighbours called 911 but you only noticed it when you had to fight against the police officers who were trying to ‘save’ you. You didn’t fight because you didn’t want them to touch you, but because they were pulling you away from your beloved fire.

Dr Loomis, who seemed to always be around when a crazy kid was killing their family, found you at the police station and spoke with you. You had seemed off to the police, and they had called him.

He was quick to understand what happened, and because of your violence and eyes full of lunacy, he preferred to bring you where he brought Michael a few years ago.

When he asked you if you remembered what happened, you just nodded and hummed with a happy smile “it was a pretty fire, wasn’t it?”

“But your whole family was inside… you killed them all, you realise, do you?”

“They always said I was too cold, so I finally warmed them up like they wanted to.”

It was obvious for Loomis you needed to be locked up for the rest of your life. And he made it clear that you and Michael shouldn’t be in the same room.

Michael hadn’t shown any interest in anyone in the past 7 years, but better be safe than sorry.

That was how you spent one whole year without having seen the Halloween killer. It wasn’t like you cared though. All you could think about was fire. You were like a junkie with withdrawal symptoms.

If Michael was making masks, you were drawing, but only using yellow, orange, red and sometimes blue.

One night though, a guard tried to touch you after he had opened your door cell. He thought he would give you a good reason to cry out, as you were still screaming even after one year there.

But you made him swallow one of your fire drawings and he eventually smothered himself with it.

You watched him, lying on the ground of your cell for a little while before getting bored of his expression of pure agony and fear on his dead face.

You left your cell and started to walk into the corridors, without truly thinking of escaping. You were just curious about who was next door.

You arrived at Michael’s cell. He was facing the wall and you could only see his back.

He seemed to be into his own world, as always.

So far, you hadn’t felt any kind of attraction towards anyone, but this creative giant who was known to have murdered his family - just like you - was definitvely making you feel all hot and bothered.

At some point, he felt your stares on him and slightly moved to watch you from the corner of his eyes.

He would have never guessed you were the one who had been screaming for a year, as you were so silent.

A connection seemed to happen then, but it was quickly broken as guards ran to you and tackled you to the ground. 

You were sent into a dark and isolated room.

When Dr Loomis came to see you, he knew something was awfully wrong.

You were deadly silent, and yet calmly smiling.

He asked you if you were alright and you nodded.

“I think I’m in love, doc” you murmured and Loomis prayed to all the gods for you to not be talking about Michael.

During the following years, you were from time to time catching glimpses of each other and each time, you were growing quiet, as in trance, and Michael was going back to the present. He would even stop crafting if you were near enough.

You were both in your 20’s now.

And the height difference couldn’t make you feel more aroused.

You weren’t sure what Micheal was feeling about you, but you were clearly the only thing he was responding to, apart from his masks.

The head of the sanitarium finally decided to do a test. Since you both were reacting to each other, maybe it would be a good idea to put you in the same room. For scientific purposes of course.

Loomis had never tried so hard to prevent something from happening but he was powerless.

And that was how you finally found yourself in the interrogation room with Micheal. The guards and doctors were outside, leaving the two of you alone.

Michael was working at the table when you arrived, and he looked up from the mask he was making when he heard you coming closer to him. 

In trance, you sat in front of him before smiling at the red creation he was doing.

“That’s my favourite colour” you purred “It’s very so pretty.” you said before giving him one of your latest drawings “maybe you could turn it into another mask… or just put it on your wall” you told him.

For the first time in years, Michael nodded, reacting positively to what he was being said. He took the drawing. His eyes even seemed to smile for a brief instant.

You both stayed in a comfortable silence after that.

After this, you were a lot more calm and the director decided they needed to continue to do little meetings like that between the two of you.

Loomis could tell it was just the calm before the storm.

A really terrible storm.

The more meetings you were having, and the closer you got.

You didn’t need words to understand each other and Michael let you sit closer and closer to him.

Loomis knew games were over when Michael finished making a mask in the shape of a flame, but with dark colours, and gently placed it over your face.

Michael watched you for a while, his head tilted to the side before he nodded in approval.

Behind the mask, you were beaming with happiness.

It felt like he had just proposed to you.

You got confident enough to kiss his cheek; even though it was through both your masks.

He placed his large and big hand on your knee and you both stayed like that until the guards tried to separate you.

Michael got up in a very intimidating way for the guard to step away from you.

You happily giggled and found him very hot at that moment.

“When I’ll find a way to burn this place down, we’ll go back home together” you promised and he stroked your hair in agreement.

You kept wearing the mask.

You didn’t hide behind it like Michael was doing, you were just proudly showing to whom you belonged.

Loomis tried to explain to the director that it was no good, that he never saw Michael act like that, and it might go very bad because you were as dangerous as him. 

You didn’t have Michael’s physical strength, but you were more chaotic and both of you didn’t care about life or death, good or evil.

When you heard the guards assaulting a girl one night, you felt anger rising through your veins. You hated when men were using power on vulnerable people; probably because it was awakening some traumas you had prefered to forget for your own good.

But your anger grew into rage as you heard the men coming into Michael’s cell and bringing him the girl and speaking to him.

You were screaming like you did the first time you arrived there and punching the walls until your hands were bleeding.

You only calmed down when you saw Michael in front of your cell.

He was covered in blood and you felt the thirst for lust and fire consuming you once again.

He found the way to open your door with quick and yet precise movements, without hesitating one second. 

This time you jumped into his arms and kissed his masked lips with burning passion.

You couldn’t tell if he was answering your kiss, until he raised his mask just enough for his lips to touch yours.

You both kissed like the hungry beasts you were, forgetting everything around you. Only your two bodies were existing and melting into one.

After a little while, he put you back on your feet and you grinned at him, as you helped him put his mask back in place.

“So we have blood everywhere, that’s nice. But something’s missing to the deco” you hummed and Michael tilted his head to the side, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Fire!” you exclaimed. “We’re going to burn the whole world to the ground!” you cheered with eyes bright like the flames you loved.

And bringing chaos together, in fire, blood and lust, was definitively what you did.