#this game is insane. play spark NOW!

[carmenpeach]

[astrxealis]

sandalphon i love you but my gacha luck w him is utterly Horrid. i have had to spark for him every single unit of his (used sierotix on one of them too) and even irl w jp official gbf merch i never get him.............

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error 410: (Self aware!AU, Caleb Edition) Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader. Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, Stressedout!reader. Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog Word count: 1k *"when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you"* *- Friedrich Nietzsche.*

You've heard that quote.., maybe even read it somewhere before but it didn't matter, not when your eyes were starting to ache, a slight burning sensation pulsing behind your eyelids. The only thing staring back at you were the questions in your assignment. The heels of your palm digging into your eyes, rubbing them, trying to drown out the sensation. You had work to do, upcoming tests countless assignments, projects- the dates and deadlines were already starting to blur. Maybe you should sleep. Take a little break, it wouldn't hurt to rest... The sickening feeling of guilt and shame in your gut was going to stay there- despite the efforts to try and study a little more.

It was your fault, really. You didn't do the things you should've on time, procrastinating and postponing work when you shouldn't have. Unfortunately, time never waits for anyone. A click of the power button broke the silence surrounding your room, closing your laptop. You stood up from your desk, stretching your arms over your head, the sound of bones cracking filling your ears. Slumping down on the bed felt much better- the cold sheets against your heated skin felt good, relaxing even. Your tongue darting out to lick your lips, feeling the chapped skin and the stinging sensation sparking up when the fleshy organ touched a small cut on your lip, caused by the frequent biting and pulling of the skin on your lips. A sigh left your lips, swallowing the dryness in the back of your throat. You felt thirsty, your throat felt dry.. empty but not enough to burn and that was reason enough for your mind to stop you from getting up, along with the effort it was going to take to just get yourself a glass of water. Laying against the cold sheets, your mind wandered thinking about something that might get you to sleep. Sleep was slowly becoming a foreign concept- something that happened few and far in between. Your college studies wasn't making it any better- Doing a degree in law along with criminology honors. You really were crazy to have chosen these subjects but your curiosity often went against your decisions. The need to understand and learn more about the few things that you were interested in. There was only silence surrounding you, until a small **ping!** vibrated through the room and in your ears, looking down at your phone to see a message from the game you spent so much of your time on; Love and Deep space and of course, your precious love interest, Caleb. It was almost insane how your eyes lit up when the loading screen of the game showed up. That pretty boy sitting quietly on the leather chair, asleep. A small poke on his cheek was enough for him to let out the usual autogenerated response you always heard. He was so cute, so pretty, so.. human. It was one of the reasons you liked him so much. Over every other love interest, he just felt like a person. A person you could understand- a person you could relate to. You understood why he did the things he did.

Tapping on the small chat button, Caleb was standing there- looking at you. Interacting with him was comforting in a sense. His little teasing yet sincere comments were enough to make your heart stutter. It had became routine by now, doing the daily tasks- getting gems, playing on the claw machine and the kitty cards. Yeah, maybe the kitty cards would be a good idea today. You still had one kitty card attempt left this week. Playing kitty cards with Caleb was fun to say the atleast. It was annoying how good he was at that game. You could never get three wins in a row, sometimes it made you want to punch him through the screen, affectionately of course. Just when you thought you were going to win, all it took was two cards for the whole game to be flipped in his favor. It was so frustrating. "If you keep winning, I'm not going to play with you.." You muttered to yourself, maybe you should stop talking to yourself when no one was going to reply back. "Maybe you should stop and take care of yourself if you can't even focus on the game," Caleb replied in that small text box. That was new, you hadn't seen a reply like that before.. Now that you think about it, did your MC even say anything for Caleb to reply back? Maybe you had missed it, too focused on the game, too focused on him. After miserably loosing the kitty card mini game, you decided to just chat with him by clicking on tête-à-tête. Talking about studies.. wanting to hear his comforting words but with those limited options, how could you tell about how terrible study habits, your conflicting feelings?

You felt stupid, incompetent, like a failure for not being able to complete some simple assignments but how do you tell all that to a fictional love interest in a game? It was shameful in a way, relying so much on the opinions and comforting of something that wasn't even real? It was just so weird.. how he mattered so much to you. Your thumb caressed the screen of your phone where his cheek was, as if he could feel your touch. It made a burning sensation flare up in the back your throat as the brightness of your screen burned into your retinas. Exhaustion of the day catching upto you. Your body curling up on the sheets of your bed. Yeah, maybe sleep would be better. Maybe you'd dream of him.

A/N- Hi everyone, I'm a new writer so this work might feel like really dry and dull. This is just part 1. I'm going to write more. This fic is inspired by Error 404 fanfic of @ittybittyfanblog. I hope you like it.

[noorpersona]

Favourite Positions: Sugawara

Sugawara Koushi had always been attentive. He had a way of reading you—of knowing exactly what you needed before you even asked. But tonight, you were the one who made the first move.

It started as a simple suggestion, whispered against his lips as you straddled his lap, your fingers curling into his soft, silver-streaked hair. "I want to try something different tonight, Koushi."

He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his brown eyes. "Different how?"

When you told him, his smile widened—slow, intrigued, dangerous.

"Yeah?" His voice dropped, hands squeezing at your waist. "Alright, sweetheart. Let’s try it."

And that was how you ended up here, tangled together, your legs draped over his shoulders, his mouth hot and greedy against you while you did your best to keep up.

It should have been a fair exchange, an even give-and-take. But Koushi wasn’t playing fair.

The second his tongue flicked against you, a slow, precise glide that sent sparks up your spine, you realized you were already at a disadvantage. His grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you still, fully at his mercy.

You tried to focus, to keep up, your hands gripping him, stroking in time with the slow rock of your hips. You wanted to take him apart the way he was ruining you. But then—

He moaned.

The deep, reverberating sound vibrated against your core, and your body jolted, betraying you.

Koushi chuckled against your skin, smug and knowing. "Oh? That got to you?"

You whimpered, trying to suppress the way your thighs trembled around his head. But he felt it. Of course he did.

"You’re so sensitive tonight, sweetheart." His voice was teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something hungry. "I wonder how long you’ll last?"

Your breath hitched as his tongue worked you over with slow, devastating precision. Each flick, each swirl, each deliberate pressure against your clit sent you spiraling higher, faster than you wanted to admit. He was taking his time with you, making sure you felt every second of it.

You tried to fight back, to make him feel just as wrecked. You wrapped your lips around him, sinking down slow, letting your tongue drag along his length in a way you knew drove him insane.

It worked—his breath hitched, his hips twitching against your mouth. A sharp, shaky inhale.

But then, as if reminded of the game you were playing, he groaned into you, deep and unrestrained.

The sound wrecked you. Your grip on him stuttered, your rhythm faltering, a high-pitched whimper slipping from your lips. And just like that—

He knew he had you.

His hands squeezed at your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer, his tongue delving deeper, flicking faster, sucking just hard enough to send you spiraling.

You couldn’t focus anymore. Couldn’t even think.

"K-Koushi—" Your voice broke, your body arching against him as he worked you to the edge with ruthless patience.

"That’s it, sweetheart," he murmured against you. His voice was warm, coaxing, wrecking you. "Let go. I’ve got you."

And you did.

Pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your whole body shaking, tensing, completely unraveling. A sharp cry spilled from your lips, your fingers digging into his thighs as your climax washed over you, leaving you trembling in his grasp.

But Koushi—Koushi wasn’t done.

As you gasped for breath, he didn’t let go. Instead, his hands guided you, adjusting you so you could move freely while still hovering over his face.

"There you go," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "Ride it, sweetheart. Don’t be shy."

Your breath hitched as his tongue pressed against you again, your body twitching from overstimulation.

"I—I can’t—"

"You can," he reassured, hands firm on your thighs, keeping you steady as you ground down against him, chasing the pleasure all over again.

The change in position made it even worse— or better, depending on how you looked at it. You had more control now, more leverage, but the more you rocked against his mouth, the deeper the sensations coiled inside you.

Desperate for something to ground yourself, you let your hands trail down his stomach, wrapping your fingers around him from this angle, stroking in slow, teasing motions as you took him deeper into your mouth.

Koushi groaned into you, his grip on your thighs tightening, fingers digging into your skin as his body tensed beneath you.

His breath turned ragged as your hand moved faster, your grip tightening. He was close.

"Koushi—"

Your voice cracked as you came again, pleasure ripping through you, your whole body trembling in his grasp. The feeling of you tensing, shaking, completely wrecked above him— it pushed him over the edge.

A deep, shuddering groan left his lips as his body tensed beneath you, spilling into your hand as he finally let go, undone by the way you lost yourself above him.

You felt the tremor in his thighs, the way his fingers dug in just a little harder as his breath stuttered, his whole body shaking through the aftershocks.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Just ragged breaths, aftershocks still rippling through you both, your limbs tangled, your bodies completely spent.

Then—a soft chuckle.

Koushi pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your thigh before murmuring against your skin, "Think that might be my new favorite."

You let out a breathless laugh, still too wrecked to even open your eyes.

Just as you started to relax, his fingers brushed along your skin, soft, teasing, lingering.

"You alright, sweetheart?" His voice was sweet, too sweet.

You nodded weakly, still coming down, not yet realizing the danger.

Then, his lips curved against your thigh, and he murmured—

"Good. Let’s go for three."

Oh. You were in trouble.

[tfwbluu]

reader asking riki for her to take control for once and ki actually enjoying and being a sub?

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader

WARNINGS — both of them are idols but its barely mentioned, sub!riki, reader’s a bit shy, sorry yall but i made reader older so he calls her noona here, small nipple play, he gets called good boy, raw sex (stay safe!), praise, indirect mentions of squirting(?), cockwarming.

WORDCOUNT — 1.6K

NOTE — istg i keep getting carried away and suddenly its 1K+ words ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ? i barely write dom!reader so sorry if its a bit rusty.. i tried my best >3< also happy 200 followers !

It was a peaceful evening. You were lying on Riki’s bed while he played games on his computer, the sounds of rapid keyboard clicks and in-game action filling the room.

“Ki,” you suddenly called out.

He hummed in response, his eyes still fixed on the screen, though the slight tilt of his head showed he was listening.

“What do you think about... switching roles?” you asked innocently, your voice quiet.

You watched as he finished the game, closed it out, and spun his chair around. He leaned back for a moment before getting up and lying beside you, his face now close to yours.

“Hm? What roles?” he asked, curiosity sparking in his tone as he settled in next to you.

“Y’know... what if I tried being in control for once?” you mumbled shyly, avoiding his gaze.

His hand tilted your chin up, gently forcing you to meet his eyes as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“I wouldn’t oppose that,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

“You sure?” you asked hesitantly, your eyes searching for any doubt.

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Would it be a bad time to admit that you look insanely hot when you’re all commanding and bossy? Your ‘leader mode,’ as your fans like to call it.”

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. His tone dropped, filled with a mix of need and teasing.

“It’s hot. And, to be honest... I desperately need you right now. And I know you need me, too,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as you felt his arousal pressing against your thigh.

“Use me like I’m your toy,” he murmured, his deep voice trembling ever so slightly with need. His hands slid lower, resting against your clothed heat, his touch hesitant but longing, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race.

“I’ll be good,” he whispered, his tone low but laced with vulnerability, his lips brushing against your neck. “Just tell me what to do... I’ll do anything.”

Fuck. Heat surged through your body, catching you off guard. You hadn’t expected it to be such a turn-on, taking control of someone so used to standing his ground. Yet here you were.

“Lie on your back,” you instructed firmly, giving him a slight push.

Riki moved without hesitation, his obedience sparking something primal in you. Now, you were seated on top of him, his body warm and solid beneath you.

Your hands hovered uncertainty, unsure where to begin, but Riki reached out, grabbing them gently.

“Just use me however you like, noona,” he said, his deep voice soft yet dripping with need. “I’m all yours.”

That struck a chord deep within you, sending a wave of excitement coursing through your veins.

“Hm, gonna be a good boy for me?” you teased, your confidence growing with each passing second. Your hands moved to tug off his shirt, and he eagerly helped, lifting his arms to make it easier.

Your fingers roamed over his abs, tracing the hard lines of his chest, lightly brushing against his nipples. He hummed in approval, nodding as he bit his lip, his eyes burning with desire.

You unzipped the jacket you were wearing (which, you noted, was actually his), feeling the cool air against your skin as your breasts were now bare against your chest.

Riki gulped as he saw you naked beneath his jacket, his hands instinctively moving to your waist.

“Ah, ah. No touching,” you warned, your hands firmly pushing him onto the sheets. “Only good boys get to touch, and you’ll have to prove to me that you are, hmm?”

You slowly removed his pants and boxers, and his cock sprang free, slapping against his skin. A bead of precum leaked from the tip. Your hands circled his tip, teasingly slow. He let out a groan, his body moving in frustration. Finally, you stroked him, alternating between his length and the sensitive tip, each movement deliberate and controlled.

“F-fuck... noona...” he muttered, his hips instinctively trying to thrust into your hand. You immediately held him down, your legs keeping him in place.

“Stay still, Ki,” you commanded, your voice firm, and Riki couldn’t help but feel a wave of arousal at the way you were teasing him, denying him what he desperately wanted.

“Wanna touch,” he whined, his hand reaching for your waist. You slapped it away, the sting making his breath hitch, and slowed your movements even further, savoring the power you held over him.

“Are you going to be a good boy and listen, or do I need to keep teaching you this lesson?” you asked, your voice firm.

Riki let out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a whine. “I’ll be a good boy, please... just touch me, please, noona,” he begged, his eyes glistening as they stared into yours, filled with desperation.

You hummed in satisfaction, your grip tightening as you moved a bit faster, your strokes becoming more deliberate.

Riki moaned, the sounds escaping him more guttural and raw than anything you’d heard before. Just as Riki was so close to reaching his high, you suddenly stopped. He gasped, panting pathetically, his chest heaving as his pleading eyes searched for yours, only to be met with your teasing smile.

“Noona...” he whimpered, his voice shaky with desperation.

“Patience, love,” you murmured, your tone dripping with authority. Slowly, you slide your panties off, leaving you completely bare before him.

You kneeled above him, your fingers dipping between your legs, playing with your wet cunt, spreading your arousal deliberately slow as if to taunt him further.

Riki watched helplessly, his cock twitching in frustration and desire, pre-cum glistening at the tip. His breath hitched as you finally spread your folds and aligned his swollen tip with your entrance.

As you sank down onto him, both of you let out moans at the sensation. You began to move your hips gently, savoring how he stretched and filled you completely. He had always been big, and the way he fit inside you left your insides feeling impossibly full.

“Feels good, love?” you asked, your hands resting on his chest as you slowly rolled your hips.

“So good, noona...” he breathed, his eyes fixated on the way your cunt gripped him so perfectly. He never imagined he’d enjoy being controlled, but the way you commanded him made it intoxicating.

“You’re so pretty, Riki,” you whispered, your voice soft as your lips trailed kisses across the moles scattered over his skin. Each one felt like a little secret only you were allowed to explore.

He sighed at your kisses, his hips instinctively twitching upward, unable to resist the pull of his desire for you. His voice was soft but heavy with longing as he murmured, “Noona... can I hold you?”

“Of course you can, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me,” you replied warmly, your voice filled with affection.

His hands instantly found your waist, gripping you tightly as if letting go wasn’t an option, holding onto you like you were his lifeline. He held back a moan when you suckled on a sensitive spot on his neck, his body overwhelmed by the flood of sensations coursing through him.

Riki let out a low groan as your lips captured his in a heated kiss, his head spinning from how overwhelming it all felt. When you pulled back, your breath ghosting over his lips, you murmured, “Fuck up into me, baby.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His hips jerked upward, thrusting into you, his movements erratic and desperate, sensitivity making him stutter.

You let out a choked moan, your body quivering as his frantic thrusts brought you closer to your own edge. “Noona, can I... c-cum inside? F-fuck, please?” he begged, his voice shaky.

You nodded, your own moans spilling from your lips as his pace became even more frantic. With one final thrust, Riki spilled inside you, his release hot and thick, coating your walls.

As his breathing slowed, you began to move on your own, grinding against him until you felt the tension snap, your release gushing over his stomach. You sighed in satisfaction, pulling off of him before collapsing onto the bed beside him.

Guiding his face to yours, you kissed him deeply, his lips lazily moving against yours, still dazed from his high. While he recovered, your hand found his softening cock, coaxing it back to life as you aligned him with your entrance once more.

Pushing him inside, you both gasped. Riki whined at the sensitivity, his body trembling, but the warmth of your walls felt too good for him to pull away. Instead, he stayed, letting you take him again, utterly at your mercy.

“Fuck, angel,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, keeping you pressed against him.

“Cockwarm me?” you murmured softly.

“Hm, yeah... okay,” he grunted, his voice low and breathy, his hold on you tightening as he settled into the warmth of your body.

“Was that alright?” you asked hesitantly, slipping back into your usual self. You ran your fingers through his sweaty bangs, pushing them back to reveal his soft, tired eyes.

“That was probably one of the best things I’ve ever experienced,” he said with a satisfied sigh, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you.

“Good to know...” you murmured, your body melting into his. “Can we just clean up when we wake up? I’m so tired,” you complained, resting your head against his chest.

“Hm, you feel too comfortable, noona,” he teased, his hips giving a playful thrust into your oversensitive cunt. You yelped, glaring at him half-heartedly.

“You should do this more often,” he admitted, his voice low and sincere as his fingers toyed with your hair. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re in control.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. “Now shut up and sleep. I’m tired of taking care of a big baby.”

“Goodnight angel, I love you” he said softly, his voice laced with affection.

“Love you too,” you mumbled in response, already drifting off, the warmth of his body lulling you into a deep, peaceful sleep.

“Well, how’s your night been?” Jungwon teased the younger, who had just walked into the kitchen, his shirtless body covered in your marks and his pants lazily pulled up.

“Hyung, shut your mouth.”

[hoonieyun]

APT

APT

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader “y/n”

warnings: drinking, kissing, suggestive, overall 18+

genre: friends to lovers, down bad jake, college au

summary: a drinking game with jake leads to more than just shots

word count: 1337

notes: im not going to lie. this song has me in a chokehold. ive also just seen an insane amount of jake edits with this song that i couldn't help but write something LOL anyways as always the lyrics used in this are from "apt" by rosie and bruno mars and all the credit goes to them for this amazing song! (not proofread but who cares not me!)

apateu, apateu, apateu

apateu, apateu, apateu

“six!” jake yells and the two of you begin to stack your hands over one another’s until you reach the 6th hand, yours. “no way! you totally did that on purpose!” you say, shooting jake a glare with a pout; knowing that he was very inclined in math so he probably figured out what number he needed to say to get you to be the one to take the shot. 

“no! i swear!” jake says, smiling at you while throwing his hands up in surrender, his accent thick as ever. you wince at the taste of the alcohol as you take the shot, the small shot glass making a clinking sound as you set it back down on jake’s bedroom floor. 

the two of you were currently sat across from one another in crissedcross position as you played a korean drinking game. one you and jake used to play at the beginning of college whenever the two of you would gather with your friends and drink over the weekend. today, however, was just and jake. it was originally going to be a lot more of you but when you arrived jake told you that everyone ended up cancelling and when you said that you should head home and study instead of drink, jake convinced you to stay. 

you were now about 5 shots in while jake had only taken 2. “that’s not fair, i’ve drank way more than you have.” you complain to jake, a pout still on your face as you refill the shot glass. the scent of the clear liquor finding its way to your noses. 

jake watched you adoringly as you poured the shot, your bottom lip still jutting out, instinctively; he bites down on his own bottom lip as he watches you. “okay, ready?” you ask as you screw the cap back onto the soju bottle and jake nods. a smile on his face as he watches you brush your hair away back, giving him a clear view of your collarbone and neck, now a slight shade of pink because of how much you had drank. 

red hearts red hearts

that’s what i'm on yeah

you and jake once again start the game, repeating the singular word 6 times but now it was your turn to yell out a number. 

“9!” you shout and one by one, you and jake place your hands over one another’s until you reach the number nine. luckily, this time it was jake’s hand, meaning he had to take the shot. you laugh at jake, happy that he finally lost and would take a shot, he smiles at your reaction and picks up the shot glass, bringing it closer to his lips. just as he’s about to take the shot, he stops. 

“y/n, can i tell you something?” he asks and your mouth falls open. “yeah. AFTER you take the shot. you’re not getting out of this one.” you say, bringing your hand up to his and motioning his hand towards his mouth, drinking the shot. small droplets of the soju leak onto your hand and out of jake’s mouth and instictively, you wipe the soju off of his lips. you blink at him a few times after you realize what you just did and jake swore he saw fireworks and sparks fly just from that small gesture. 

“um, okay. here let me fill it up again.” you say, grabbing the shot glass from his hand to refill just so you could move on from the awkward interaction. “wait!” jake says, grabbing your wrist, causing you to look up at him. his eyes shimmering in the light like it held the universe in them. you weren’t sure if it was you or the alcohol but you hadn’t fully realized how handsome jake was, especially tonight. his cheeks slightly red and his hair wasn’t styled but still fell so effortlessly well across his forehead. 

jake on the other hand, hasn’t stopped thinking about how pretty you looked since you walked into his apartment. your hair was tucked behind your ear and you wore that lip gloss that he secretly liked on you. it left your lips looking so pink and plump and he couldn’t help but think of what they tasted like. the lips… not the gloss. 

your lips were a bit bare, the gloss having worn off every time you took a shot, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft they still looked. like pillowy clouds.

the two of you were just staring at one another and it happened in a blink of an eye. jake was leaning over to you, softly cupping your face, and bringing you closer to his face. “can i kiss you?” he asks, voice low as he looks down at your lips. you slowly nod, thinking to yourself that jake’s lips have never been more tempting. “use your words, please.” jake says and once again, you nod followed by a soft yes. as soon as the 3 letter word leaves your lips, his are on yours. 

don’t you want me like i want you, baby?

don’t you want me like i need you, baby?

when you and jake pull away from the kiss, although short, it felt like it was a moment that was just waiting to happen. jake pulls away and his eyes slowly flutter open and he sees you, looking up at him with doe eyes, mouth still slightly open. 

“was that ok?” jake says sheepishly. “more than okay.” you say, a smile on your face as jake takes a seat back down. your thumb flies over your mouth as it graves over your lip. you glance over at jake and he’s leaning back on his hands, a smirk on his face. “what are you smiling at?” you ask, teasingly. 

the smile on jake’s lips grow wider as you ask the question. “nothing, i’ve just been waiting to do that for a while now.” he confesses, a surprise to you because your feelings for jake have always been surpress, fearing that it would ruin your friendship and of those around you. 

you slowly stand back up and jake watches your figure make your way over to his spot on the floor. you take a seat on his lap, a bold action that without the alcohol, is something you would’ve never had the courage to do. jake accepts your gesture, tightening his body so that he could carry you on his lap, otherwise; he would’ve melted right into you. wrapping your arms loosely around his neck, you play with his hair a bit, before you say anything. 

“what took you so long then?” you ask and jake could’ve sworn that he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. he’s never felt this around a girl before and quite frankly he hopes that he’ll never feel it with any other girl but you. you lean down and give jake another kiss but to his disdain, the kiss was too short so shifts his weight forward, grabbing your waist with one of his arms as he brings you back closer. connecting your lips once again, this time the kiss is more intense. a type of passion that you had never experienced with any of your previous lovers and hookups. 

a type of feeling that only jake could give you. 

after what felt like you two were kissing for eternity, the two of you pull away to catch your breath. you stare at one another, both of your lips a bit swollen as you try to steady your breathing. suddenly, jake leans forward, grabbing the bottle of soju and pouring another shot. his arm, still wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as he pours the shot. he hands you the small glass as he takes the bottle of the soju for himself. 

“geonbae.” jake says as he takes the shot. you chuckle, finding him cute whenever he says korean words with his australian accent.

-

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[moviestarmartini]

yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader

él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.

summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?

wc: 975

warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.

A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The fight was stupid, really. 

You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 

After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 

Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 

If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 

You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 

For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 

You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 

To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 

“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 

That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 

Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.

And you wondered if you would ever be again. 

The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 

Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 

[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 

[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 

You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 

“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 

He hadn’t even read it. 

Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 

You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 

Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 

Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 

“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 

“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 

“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 

“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 

“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 

“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 

“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 

Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.

A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

i can def see voodoo!reader not being herself ever again if she cannot practice her true self. image her losing everything, her sparks and the batfamily reaction??

they will never see that smile again.

they are just a empty shell

I feel like the Batfam will try to mirror her religion as hard as they can, so you can do your ceremonies, pray to your lwa, offer food, and dance for your altar. You’re most likely to wake up early before everyone else to dance for Bondye as the morning sun rises, not just to praise your lord or expel your amulet of darkness, but to avoid Bruce and the others. It's like a game of cat and mouse; you have to escape them at all costs. But soon they figure out your morning dancing, and by the goddesses, now you're dancing for them every early morning, like a little puppet on a string—maybe a wind-up ballerina in a box—except they won't stop winding you up. Bruce will find a new dress for you to wear, the most luxurious one he can find. He knows you dance for Erzulie, so why not wear something expensive to show how much you care? Not because he wants to see a little girl in a dress he picked out for her. Dick, oh god, might just be the worst out of them; he'll brag about you like you're some kind of mythical creature, like you're out of this world. You’re not. He's so invested in your life that he's starting to invade your personal space. He's the reason why you can't dance in the morning anymore. Jason, my god, he's controlling. If you see someone playing on the drums in the Gotham subway and you're feeling the beat, you start dancing. Then a group surrounds you, clapping on beat with the drums. You use your dress as a way to guide your movements. You're having so much fun until you see a tall man in a red hoodie staring at you with those bright green eyes. You drop your dress to your sides and immediately stop moving, saying "sorry" in a soft voice and running over to Jason. If you didn't know any better, he looks like he might shoot up the whole subway. Tim, oh, he's getting bad at hiding his newfound obsession—YOU. He installed cameras all around the manor. If you're cleaning up with Alfred while listening to music, he’ll see you do some freestyle dances. It’s even better when you think no one’s around, so you blast music in your room, but there’s a camera there. He’s laughing as he watches his baby sis dance her heart out. He'll never share these videos with the fam; they're for him and only him—his pretty bird in a cage. Duke will learn how to dance or drum just so you don't have to go to your temple. Sometimes he goes off beat since he's so busy watching you; it makes you misstep, and you fall on your butt laughing. Now Duke’s obsession is getting worse. Sometimes he picks up the pace or slows it down just to watch you stumble; that way, he has an excuse to help you up or make your time at the manor longer. His little sis is struggling with the dances; he has to help, or else how will she become high priestess? But behind that sweet smile, as his strong hands help you up, he’s going behind your back to elder mambo, telling them you’re not capable of being high priestess if you can’t get the dance right. Don’t be mad; he’s looking after you. Damian, good goddesses, he's acting like a little boy. "'Ukht story please," he says in a sweet voice, pulling on your dress. You can't even notice his yandere tendencies, but they're strong. He's acting like a sweet little boy sitting on your lap as you tell him the story of the Great Bondye. He’s staring at you the whole time. "'Ukht stay still; I want to paint you." He draws you like a goddess dancing in the hot rain. He'll sit in your lap at breakfast, sticking his tongue out at the others. But don’t be fooled by that cute face; he’s just as bad. These boys are tiring, Indra. You have no time to clear out your amulet of darkness, and you're missing your church and your lwa. You need a long break before you go insane. You miss your mambo, the girls you used to dance with, the marching parade—you miss it all. Oh, great Bondye, whatever will you do? The serpents are sucking you dry of all your love and joy; they're ruining you. But what the lwa value more is family. Should you stick to family?

[bixels]

Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

[jesssain]

Bathroom Encounter PART 1

You are standing in the Bathroom, nothing but a towel wrapped around your body. Your skin wet from the hot water that just sprinkled all over you in the shower.

You are brushing your wet dripping bob length hair as the bathroom door suddenly opens. You look over to it, seeing your best friend standing there. Caleb. Hes wearing nothing but a black boxershort, probably just woken up like you did 20 minutes ago.

„Morning.“ you say with a gentle voice, a small smile on your lips.

Caleb leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. His dark hair is tousled from sleep, and his eyes slowly rake over your body, taking in the sight of you wrapped in a towel. "Morning," he replies, his voice low and slightly husky from just waking up.

You keep brushing your hair, but your eyes are on him. He always was insanely attractive, tall, perfect teeth, pretty eyes. But over the last year he really overdid himself with his training. He gained muscels, muscels you would die to bite into.

You let your eyes wander over his form, his chest is broad, defined, his nipples a bit hardened from the cool air. Arms as big as your head, trained biceps that could crush skulls into a million pieces. Strong veiny hands, long fingers, perfectly to be wrapped around someones throat. His abs are perfectly shaped into an 8-pack, glistening in the morning light. The small happy trail leaving down from his belly button into his boxershorts.

Your pupils dialate as soon as you take in whats laying underneath his boxers. A prominent, big morning wood.

„Slept well?“ you ask, clearing your throat a bit, trying to make smalltalk instead of thinking how perfectly it would feel to be fucked by him over this sink.

Caleb smirks slightly, noticing the way your eyes linger on his body, particularly the bulge in his boxers. He shifts his stance, making the fabric tighten against his growing erection. "Mhmm, like a baby," he says, pushing off the doorframe and taking a step into the bathroom.

„Good, thats good.“ you say, a soft smile on your lips. Your eyes darting back down even tho you dont want to. The scenarios in your head playing games with you again.

You focus yourself on your reflection in the mirror, your curves covered with the towel thats slightly drenched already from slurping up all the water.

He moves closer, standing behind you but not quite touching. You can see his reflection in the mirror - his height towering over you, his muscular form almost intimidating. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "You... forgot a part," he says, holding out his hand.

You can feel the warmth radiating off of his body behind you, towering over you. You look up to his eyes in the mirror.

You stop your brushing motions and hand him the brush.

He takes the brush from you, his fingertips brushing against yours, leaving a spark of electricity between you. He starts to gently brush your hair for you. His chest presses against your back, his morning wood now pressing into your lower back.

You feel your breathing getting stuck in your lungs as you feel the hard warm bulge pressing against your towel clad back.

„Thank you.“ you say softly, your voice strained with this growing arousal you feel since he stepped into this bathroom. Your eyes are on his trough the mirror, watching his biceps work as he brush trough your wet bob.

Caleb's smirk deepens as he notices your reaction, the way your breath hitches and your pupils dilate. He continues to brush your hair slowly, using it as an excuse to stay pressed against you. "You know, pipsqueak," he says softly, his voice low and intimate, "you have beautiful hair."

You gulp, your throat bobbing at the tone of his voice. So intimate and low. You humm, knowing if you say something your voice will be shaky and strained with your growing attraction. Your hands are on the counter, knuckles turning slightly white from holding onto it, desperatly trying to concentrate on something else than his literal rock hard cock, pressed against your lower back.

He finishes brushing your hair and sets the brush aside, but doesn't move away from you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. "And you smell really fucking good too," he murmurs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Your body shivers as soon as he pulls you flush against him, his breathing onto your neck is making your skin tingle.

You let out a soft gasp. „Caleb what are you doing?“ you breathe out. Its normal for you to hug, to be close, but not half naked.

Caleb's hands slowly slide up your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. "Just appreciating my best friend," he says, his voice a low growl against your neck. His hips press forward slightly, grinding his hard-on against your backside through the thin towel. "Is that so wrong Pipsqueak?"

You grab the sink harder, keeping yourself grounded, atleast desperatly trying to. ��You shouldnt..“ you trail off, your lids fluttering at the feeling of his rock hard bulge rubbing against your cheeks trough the fabric.

Caleb's grip on your waist tightens, and he presses his erection more firmly against you, making sure you can feel every inch of him. "Shouldn't what, pipsqueak?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. He knows exactly what he's doing and how it's affecting you.

You try to form a proper sentence in your head, a valid reason to not grind your ass against him right now but there is none in your mind.

He feels your hesitation, the way you're gripping the sink tighter, trying to resist the urge to wiggle back against him. He takes advantage of this, slowly rocking his hips forward, rubbing himself against your backside possessively. "Answer me," he growls softly before he starts kissing your neck.

„T-this.“ You breathe out, despite your urge to fight it your words coming out as gasps.

Caleb's lips curve into a satisfied smirk against your neck, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He continues to grind against you, his erection throbbing with each movement. "This what, pipsqueak?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "This feels so wrong to you?"

„No.“ you gasp out immediatly. Knowing it feels everything else but wrong. Your body is driving on autopilot now and you push your ass back against him, adding preassure onto his hard errection. Your curves still only covered by the towel.

A deep moan escapes his lips at your movements, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts through the towel. "Then what's the problem?" he rasps against your neck. His hips buck forward, grinding against you firmly as his thumbs trace circles over your nipples. "Why are you fighting this?"

Your breathing comes out in ragged gasps, your nipples instantly hardening beneath the towel. „Were… best friends.“ you pant. Trying desperatly to explain why you should not be grinding against each other in your bathroom.

Caleb's grip on your breasts tightens slightly, his fingers digging in as he pulls you closer. "And best friends don't fuck?" he asks, his voice low and challenging. He grinds against you harder, his breathing growing heavier.

You let out a gasping chuckle. „No.“ You pant „Best friends dont fuck.“

Caleb's lips curl into a smirk, his hips continuing their relentless grind against you. "Then maybe we should stop being best friends," he growls, his voice thick with desire. He pinches your nipples gently through the towel.

„Fuck.“ you breathe out as soon as he rolls your nipple in his fingetips trough the towel.

All rational thoughts you ever had are gone. Your mind clouded and spinning around him, around his touch, his smell and his words.

You grind your ass back on his length, your half lidded eyes searching his in the mirror.

Caleb's smirk widens as he watches your eyes meet his in the mirror, darkening with lust. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, "Look at you, grinding all over me. Seems like you need it pretty badly, huh pipsqueak?"

Oh he has no idea. You grab his wrist of the arm hes teasing your breasts with. You turn your Head to the side so your eyes meet directly. „Stop fucking talking.“ you breathe out before you crash your lips onto his.

Caleb groans into your mouth as soon as you kiss him, his lips parting to allow your tongue to slide in. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back firmly against his body as his other hand moves up to grip your hair tightly. He deepens the kiss, his tongue dominating yours.

Your tongue is desperatly trying to win over this kiss. But failing miserably. His whole beeing is radiating off domination, making your knees weak and your pussy wet. And you let him manhandle you.

Caleb breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks at you in the mirror, his eyes filled with a feral hunger, with one swift motion the towel is on the floor. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growls, his hand moving up to wrap around your throat possessively. "I'm going to destroy you, pipsqueak."

Your whole body is humming in hunger already, your skin covered in goosebumps as soon as you are fully naked infront of him.

He watches you in the mirror, his eyes darkening dangerously as they drop to your full breasts, your tiny waist and the bare V between your legs. He slides one of his hands down your body slowly, palming your stomach possessively before sliding down lower, cupping your bare pussy.

You let out a soft gasp, your mind spinning.

"Look at yourself," he commands, his finger slowly stroking up and down your slit. "Look at how fucking perfect you are." His other hand still firmly wrapped around your throat, tilting your head to force you to meet his eyes in the mirror.

Your body is shivering under his touch, under the way his voice is dripping in this dominant tone.

"You're going to come all over my fingers, pipsqueak." He says it as a statement, not a question, his fingers moving between your legs, spreading your folds and pushing two fingers inside of you. "And then you're going to watch while I fuck you into this countertop."

You let out a loud soft moan as soon as his fingers are sliding into your already wet pussy. You grip the sink again, trying to hold yourself steady while getting fingered by your best friend.

The sounds of wet motions combined with moans and gasps filling the room.

Your eyes flutter shut in pleasure as soon as he curves his fingers inside you, adding preassure to your walls.

Caleb's eyes never leave yours in the mirror as he begins to finger-fuck you harder and faster. The sound of your wetness grows louder as he curls his fingers perfectly against that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. "Open those pretty eyes," he commands roughly. "Watch me make you come."

And you do, you open your eyes. Following his evey command like you are a robot, born to obey him. The mirror is big enough so your vision ends shortly before your knees, seeing his fingers glide in and out of your most vulnerable part of your body. His fingers glistening from your juices.

"fuck..." he mutters darkly, watching his fingers disappear inside you. His thumb finds your clit and begins to circular motion, forcing you to arch your back. He bites down on your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin. "You're taking my fingers like such a good girl..."

Your grip on the countertop tightens as he stimulates all the right spots. His fingers hitting your g-spot perfectly and his thumb rubbing your sensitive clit making your legs shaky. Its way too long in the past since you cum. Way too long in the past that you touched yourself like that.

He can tell how close you are, your walls gripping his fingers tighter and your entire body tensing. He leans down, his voice rough and hungry in your ear. "Come on my fingers, baby. Soak them. Show me how much you needed this." He bites your ear harshly. "Now."

His words are your final string. Making your eyes roll back in pleasure and your knees buckle as your walls clench around his fingers. „Caleb.“ you moan.

"Louder," he growls, his fingers hooking deeper inside you as he tries to catch your releasing juices in his palm. "Say it again." He punctuates each word with a thrust of his fingers, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

„Caleb!“ you practically scream. Obeying everything he says to you.

He smirks wickedly at your scream, feeling your pussy spasm around his fingers as you come undone. "That's my girl," he praises darkly, continuing to milk your orgasm with skilled fingers. Suddenly, he withdraws his soaked digits and shoves them into your open mouth.

You let out a whimper as soon as your pussy feels empty again, but it gets muffled by his wet fingers. You taste yourself on your tongue, something you tasted before. Instinctively you wrap you full lips around them and suck them clean, your half lidded eyes on his in the mirror.

Caleb's pupils dilate with desire as he watches you suck his fingers clean, tasting your own arousal. He pulls them out of your mouth with a pop and brings them to his own lips, sucking off the remaining juices. "You are fucking Delicious," he murmurs, his gaze burning into yours in the mirror.

Your body shivers at the sight of this, before you push your naked ass against his boxershort covered length. „Are you holding your promise to let me watch while you fuck me against this countertop?“ you ask, your voice strained and breathy as you are still panting from your orgasm.

To be continued…

[mattslilies]

Kiss Cam - M.S.

"should we?" ... "why not?" or, the one where bsf!matt and bsf!reader end up on the game's kiss cam... and it sparks something new warnings: none!! unless u count kissing i guess! word count: 1.1k

you and matt had been friends since childhood, and you had always been incredibly close. you were in the same schools, lived in the same neighborhoods, and for a while, played the same sports.

you two had always been the athletic ones out of your sets of siblings, and that had only strengthened your friendship, through extra time spent together, and healthy competition.

eventually you had aged out of high school sports, but with both of you wanting to stay close to home, you had, of course, ended up at the same in-state college. you often carpooled home, but more importantly, you were each other's game buddies.

it didn't matter what was playing, you went to almost every one that you could. as long as you both were free, you would be found somewhere in the stadium, attending other in-state collegiate games as well.

this weekend was no different. you and matt were attending a basketball game for one of the bigger colleges near you, the tickets having been fairly cheap at the last minute. living so close to campus, you both had your cars, and decided to take a little trip and go together.

half a bucket and two sodas down, it was finally halftime. neither of you really cared who was winning, you just enjoyed watching the sport. you were laughing at all of the people swarming in and out of the stadium, knowing that the halftime concession lines were absolutely insane right now.

"aren't you so glad that we got our food during the first half?"

matt nodded, a few kernels of popcorn slipping from his hand as he put some in his mouth.

"yeah, i would hate to be stuck in those lines right now. those poor workers."

you laughed, agreeing, and went back to scrolling on your phone, looking up occasionally to see how long was left on the twenty minute break. it was at that point that you noticed the silly halftime games starting on the screen. you nudged matt, grabbing his attention.

"look, they're doing the cup shuffle with the ball under it."

matt shook his head, exasperated.

"i always lose these, i can never keep track of where it ends up."

"you got it this time!"

he did not, in fact, have it that time, but you got it correct, as usual. neither of you participated in the dancing challenges, but you thoroughly enjoyed watching the camera pan around to the people who were. it went through a few advertisements before returning, the infamous "Kiss Cam" logo taking over the screen.

both of you watched as it panned to a couple in the stands, before moving to two strangers, and giggled at the looks of awkwardness on their faces, and their shaking heads "no."

the giggle was quickly wiped off of both of your faces as the camera filled with a familiar scene. yourselves. shock was clearly displayed across matt' face, and you could only imagine that your face mirrored the same expression, as you looked over at him.

the stadium was cheering, and you were about to start shaking your head "no" like the two people before you, when matt spoke.

"why don't we do it?"

you were floored, but instead of denial, a question slipped out of your lips.

"should we?"

"why not?"

he had a point, you guessed. matt was incredibly attractive, and your friendship was strong enough to survive a kiss, right?

before you knew it, your lips were on his, his hand on the side of your face. screaming was heard from all around you as the camera captured the entire thing. he didn't hold the kiss for too long, pulling away to breathe, but his face was covered in a red flush when he did.

you both just stared at each other for a few seconds, before he broke the tension.

"you're a really good kisser."

you stumbled over your words, your brain seeming to short circuit, but eventually getting a sentence out.

"thanks, you are too."

he let out a short laugh, turning back to his phone, an easy smile on his face, as if he hadn't just kissed you like he'd been dying to do it forever. you tried to shake off the awkwardness and nerves as best you could, attempting to enjoy the rest of the game.

you'd kissed your friends before, why was this so different?

matt didn't seem bothered, so you forced yourself to not be bothered either. as the game went on, the tension melted away completely, and by the time you were in the last few minutes of it, you and matt were laughing like you had never quit.

matt had driven you there, your car having been low on gas that day, so you walked back to his car. getting in your usual spot as passenger, you quickly connected your phone to the aux cord, pulling up your shared playlist.

you had similar music tastes, and had a long concert on the way home from the game. you had almost forgotten about the events of the night, until you pulled back into the closest parking garage to your apartment building.

matt always walked with you to your apartment, as your room was just down the hall from his. that didn't change, but what did was his normal goodbye. he looked like he was going to say something, but then hesitated before speaking.

"i had a great time tonight."

you smiled, agreeing.

"so did i. we always have fun, don't we?"

there was still hesitation in his features, and the questioning look on your face prompted him to speak his mind.

"we do, yeah. tonight was better, though."

your mouth opened, then closed, processing what he meant.

"the kiss?"

he looked down, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"yeah. i really enjoyed that."

you forced yourself to push down the anxiousness inside your body, knowing that this was your opportunity to explore this possibility. you and matt had been close forever, and you couldn't deny that he was an absolute dream. that kiss had completely rocked your world, changing your perspective, and you would kill to experience his lips on yours another time.

so, with a deep breath, and a surge of confidence, you smiled at him, before unlocking your door and pushing it open.

"wanna do it again?"

an answering smile spread across his face as you grabbed his hand and pulled him into your apartment. his hand easily found your waist, your lips reconnecting before the snick! of the door closing was even heard in the hallway.

a/n: i was fighting for my life trying to finish this, sorry its so short, i wrote this from a hotel bed on vacay

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist <3

@courta13 @quinnynation @bowsandsturniolos @mqroonsturn @emely9274 @lizzyzzn @mattsbows @mattybsgroupie @sophand4n4 @leah-sturniolo @wr1tingsonthewall @sturns-mermaid @immaqulate @sweetshuga @user1smvtysturniolo @adoremattsturns @55sturn @chrisissobabygirl @backwardshatnick @jadest0ne @lezleeferguson-120 @sheluvsthesturniolos @faith5drpepper @thecrawlys @evansturn @eeyoresturnz @h3arts4harry

if you would like to be added to my taglist, click here!

[vandme12]

ronin x horror gamer mc with an unhinged sense of humour in their videos who also screams easily... perchance..

TITLE ; MY BOYFRIEND EXPOSED MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL TO A SERVER FULL OF KILLERS, AND I’M CRYING IN THE CLUB 💀😭 (NOT CLICKBAIT) (I HATE HIM)

Summary :So, boom. I’ve been a horror YouTuber for YEARS, right? Millions of subs, unhinged commentary, screaming at pixels—y’all know the vibes. My boyfriend? A literal serial killer. (Don’t ask. It’s a long story.) I thought I was slick, keeping my channel a secret… but NAH, this man hacked my shit and EXPOSED ME to a dark web server full of murderers. Now they’re watching my videos, roasting me in real time, and I’m rethinking my life choices. Pray for me. 🙃💀

The relationship was… insane. And that was exactly why you liked it.

Ronin, Devil’s Butcher, the man who spent his free time painting the streets red and making sure certain people wouldn’t see another sunrise, had somehow fallen for you—the screaming, unhinged horror YouTuber who couldn’t even keep a straight face when chased by a PNG jumpscare.

It was chaos, but it worked.

You weren’t like him. You didn’t kill. You didn’t crave the thrill of it. But you understood him, in a way that made him pause. In a way that made him obsessed. You listened, you made him laugh, you gave advice when he didn’t even ask for it. You weren’t scared of him—not really. Not enough to make him bored.

You were a saint, in his words. Rotten to the core, but a saint nonetheless.

And that? That was fascinating.

Right now, you were on a video call, the glow of your monitor casting sharp shadows on your face as you leaned forward, chin resting on your palm. The Slaughterhouse server, his little serial killer-exclusive hideout on the dark web, was buzzing with activity. Your username was still a mystery to him, because you were a menace and refused to give him your YouTube handle.

“Why the fuck is your camera quality so good?” Ronin drawled, tilting his head. His devilish grin stretched wide, all sharp teeth and chaotic energy barely contained behind lazy amusement.

“You like it?” You batted your lashes. “It’s a 4K Ultra HD ‘You Suck at Stealth’ Experience.”

Ronin chuckled, low and rich. “Yeah? That why I hear you screaming in surround sound?”

Your face burned. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I’m serious,” he continued, eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. “I got into the server earlier, and guess what I find? Some random clip of you absolutely losing your shit in a horror game. I mean—flailing, screeching, actual banshee-level wailing.”

You deadpanned. “Oh, cool. You found the documentary of my suffering.”

He sighed dramatically. “And here I thought you were fearless.”

“Oh, no, babe.” You grinned. “I’m a coward with a loud mouth. There’s a difference.”

Ronin barked out a laugh. “Yeah? And what’s stopping me from tracking you down and seeing this horror for myself?”

You clicked your tongue. “Please. If you find out where I live, the scariest thing you’ll see is my sleep schedule.”

“Oooh, threats.” He leaned in, eyes narrowing. “You sure you should be teasing the Devil, sweetheart?”

“Ronin, babe.” You mimicked his tone. “I literally watched you stab a man on a livestream last week. What’s a little teasing gonna do?”

His grin widened.

Oh, he liked that.

“God, you really are a little menace,” he mused, tilting his head. “I should punish you for keeping secrets, y’know. What kind of lover doesn’t tell their beloved their little YouTube identity?”

You huffed. “One that enjoys making you suffer.”

He laughed again, full-bodied, delighted. “You’re lucky I like suffering.”

“I’m not telling you my YouTube name,” you said, grinning as you leaned back in your chair. “Figure it out yourself, Detective.”

Ronin hummed, amused. “Oh? Now that sounds like a challenge.”

“Oh, I got a real challenge for you.” You wagged a finger at the screen. “How about you put your money where your blood-stained mouth is and play a horror game with me?”

His eyes sparked with interest. “You wanna play with the Devil, sweetheart?”

“Only if you can handle it.” You smirked. “We’re playing Death by Daylight.”

Ronin’s smile stretched slow and sharp, his voice a velvet purr. “Oh, you are a little menace.”

You grabbed your headset and console, cackling as you loaded up the game. The moment the match started, you were fine—laughing, cracking jokes, and doing your best to not be absolute garbage at surviving.

Until.

Until Ronin was the Hunter.

And you? You were one of the unlucky little Survivors.

It started off fun. You ran around, trying to fix generators, dodging traps, bullying NPCs with flashlight spam. But then? Oh, then. He started chasing you.

You turned a corner and—BOOM!

“OH MY FUCKING GOD—” You shrieked, throwing your controller. “WHAT THE FUCK?! NO—NOPE—”

Ronin’s deep, sadistic laughter filled your headset.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he crooned, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Where ya runnin’?”

You SPRINTED. FULL SPEED.

“WHY ARE YOU SO FAST?! WHAT THE FUCK—”

“You’re screaming a lot,” Ronin said, chasing you effortlessly. “Scared?”

“NO, I’M JUST PRACTICING FOR WHEN I EVENTUALLY DIE!”

He cackled. “Oh, baby, you’re making this too fun.”

You threw a pallet down. He smashed through it like a goddamn movie villain.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ronin sang, voice pure menace. “You think you can hide from the Devil?”

You DOVE into a locker. Immediate regret.

Silence.

You held your breath.

The locker door creaked open.

“Peek-a-boo.”

“FUCKING—”

You flailed so hard your headset almost flew off. “STOP! STOP! I HAVE A FAMILY—”

“No, you don’t,” Ronin deadpanned. “I checked.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Mm. Shouldn’t have let me in the server, sweetheart.” He grabbed you—instant down.

Your soul left your body.

Ronin chuckled, dark and low, dragging your poor, helpless character to the hook.

“Well, well,” he purred. “Looks like the Devil wins.”

You groaned, dramatically slumping in your chair. “Bro, you are the worst.”

“I know,” he said smoothly. “And you love it.”

…Fucking hell, you did.

“Ohhh, you’re fucked now.” You grinned, cracking your knuckles as the second match loaded up.

Ronin chuckled, the sound low and amused. “Oh? That so, sweetheart?”

“Damn right. I’m the hunter now.” You leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Time to see how fast you can run, Devil.”

The match started. You spawned in, weapon in hand, heart pounding with the thrill of the hunt. The tables had turned.

Ronin was a Survivor.

And you? You were about to make him scream.

You stalked the map, watching for movement, bloodlust thrumming in your veins. Then, you saw him.

Ronin, crouched near a generator, totally unaware.

You licked your lips.

“Ohhh, what do we have here?”

His head snapped up. You charged.

“OH—FUCK ME—”

Ronin bolted.

“COME HERE, YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

He cackled, dodging around a tree. “Damn, sweetheart, I didn’t know you were this bloodthirsty.”

You launched after him, voice pitching into insanity. “OH, I’M COMING FOR THAT ASS.”

He barely dodged your swing. “You say that like I’m supposed to be scared.”

“You should be, because I’m about to shove this weapon so far up your—”

“WHOA, WHOA—” Ronin wheezed with laughter, vaulting over a window.

You sprinted after him. “YOU CAN’T OUTRUN ME, DEVIL—I’VE BEEN TRAINING FOR THIS SINCE I LEARNED TO CRAWL.”

Ronin howled with laughter. “You’re outta your goddamn mind—”

“Oh, YOU THINK?!” You lunged, barely missing him. “I AM UNHINGED! I AM THE NIGHT!”

Ronin snorted. “You’re a fucking gremlin.”

“I’M YOUR GREMLIN, NOW HOLD STILL AND LET ME KILL YOU.”

He darted through a cabin, knocking over obstacles. “Gotta catch me first, sweetheart.”

“OH, I WILL. AND WHEN I DO, I’M GONNA—”

CRASH.

You slammed into a door.

Silence.

Ronin lost it.

“NO FUCKING WAY—DID YOU JUST—”

You groaned, voice muffled. “I AM SO TIRED OF THIS BULLSHIT.”

His laughter echoed through your headset, genuine, unrestrained. “Sweetheart, I think you just killed yourself harder than I ever could.”

“I swear to GOD, RONIN—”

“Oh, you sound mad,” he teased. “You okay? Need me to call the cops?”

“BITCH, YOU’RE A SERIAL KILLER—”

He chuckled darkly. “Exactly. So, why didn’t you call them?”

You froze.

“…What.”

“You had so many opportunities.”

The game continued around you, but you didn’t move. The hairs on your arms stood up.

Ronin’s voice was low, dangerous, smug. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Your heart skipped. He was playing. He had to be. Right?

Your mouth opened. Closed. Then—

“…Man, shut your ass up and get back here so I can murder you.”

This was bullshit.

Ronin was built different. He was fucking carrying this match like he was speedrunning it for world records, and you were seething. Every time you got close—**every damn time—**he’d pull some stupid anime protagonist bullshit dodge and sprint off like the wind was whispering cheats into his ear.

And the worst part? He was laughing.

Laughing his whole ass off while you fumbled around like a drunk toddler with a knife.

“Nah, nah—ain’t no way, sweetheart!” Ronin wheezed, dodging another swing with the smoothness of someone who was quite literally used to running for his life.

Your controller creaked in your grip. “I HOPE YOUR PILLOW IS ALWAYS WARM AS FUCK.”

“WHAT?!” He cackled.

“YEAH, YOU HEARD ME, YOU SLIPPERY LITTLE BITCH.” You lunged again—missed. “I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU PUT YOUR SOCKS ON, THEY’RE JUST A LITTLE BIT DAMP.”

Ronin stumbled from laughing too hard. “SWEETHEART—”

“NAH, SHUT YOUR MURDEROUS ASS UP. I HOPE EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU TAKE A SHOWER, YOU FORGET TO BRING A TOWEL.”

He vaulted over another fucking window.

You saw red.

“I HOPE YOUR FAVORITE SHOW GETS CANCELLED ON A CLIFFHANGER, YOU PIECE OF SHIT—”

Ronin was gasping, struggling to run through his unhinged laughter. “WHY ARE YOU—WHEEZING—LIKE THIS?”

“I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU GET COMFORTABLE, SOMEONE CALLS YOUR NAME FROM THE OTHER ROOM.”

“OH MY GOD—”

You sprinted after him, rage fueling your every move. “I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU HEAR MUSIC, IT’S A LOOP OF A SONG THAT NEVER HITS THE CHORUS.”

“YOU ARE EVIL.”

You SWUNG. Missed. Again.

Ronin yelped, still running. “YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME—I AM SPEED.”

“SPEED THESE NUTS, MOTHERFUCKER.”

Ronin straight-up tripped from laughing so hard, scrambling back up just before you could land a hit.

“Nah, nah, you need to be locked up, sweetheart.”

“SAYS THE SERIAL KILLER!”

Ronin screeched around a corner. “AND I’M STILL FASTER THAN YOU—”

You swung—nothing but air.

“I HOPE YOUR FAVORITE HOODIE ALWAYS HAS A LOOSE THREAD THAT TICKLES YOUR ARM LIKE A FUCKING SPIDER.”

He CHOKED. “SWEETHEART—”

“NAH, I’M NOT DONE!” You saw him fixing another generator. “I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU HAVE TO PEE REALLY BADLY, SOMEONE STARTS A CONVERSATION WITH YOU. AND IT’S WEIRDLY PERSONAL.”

Ronin folded over laughing, missing his skill check. “I CAN’T—”

You whiffed a hit AGAIN.

“I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU WAKE UP, IT’S THREE MINUTES BEFORE YOUR ALARM.”

Ronin ran for his life. “YOU ARE A MENACE—”

You were foam-at-the-mouth feral. “I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU’RE ABOUT TO WIN IN A GAME, YOUR CONTROLLER DIES.”

“STOP—”

“NO, RUNNING MAN, YOU GON’ LISTEN!”

Ronin fucking fell.

You raised your weapon, triumphant.

Until—

BEFORE YOU COULD HIT HIM, THE MATCH ENDED.

You stared.

He stared.

Ronin busted out laughing so hard, he wheezed. “NAAAH, AIN’T NO WAY!”

You threw your controller.

“I HOPE YOUR DOORDASH DRIVER STEALS YOUR FOOD, YOU BITCH.”

"YOU SLIPPERY MOTHERFUCKER."

Ronin was still laughing, his voice smooth and unbothered, like he hadn’t just bullied you into oblivion.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he drawled. “You got a lotta words for someone who just lost.”

“JIMMY-ASS MAN. STUPID-ASS MAN. FUCKING BALD-HEADED MOTHERFUCKER.”

“I got hair.”

“NOT AFTER I’M DONE WITH YOU.”

Ronin just chuckled, his tone pure, wicked amusement. “Mm. Keep talking, baby. You cursing my name like this is doing something for me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“FUCK YOU!”

“Oh?” His voice dropped. “That an invitation?”

You froze.

“…Die.”

He laughed, deep and satisfied. “Awww, don’t be shy now.”

You glared at the screen, fuming. “Hope your phone charger only works at a specific angle.”

“I already kill people for fun, sweetheart, you think that’s gonna bother me?”

“Hope every time you try to watch a video, it buffers at the best part.”

He clicked his tongue. “Now you’re just making me stronger.”

You slumped back, defeated. “I hate you.”

“Nah, you love me.”

You did not respond to that.

Instead, you huffed and started typing something on your keyboard. Ronin noticed.

“…What’re you doing?”

You kept typing. “None of your business.”

“Uh-huh.” His tone turned smug. “You forgot I can hack, sweetheart?”

You paused.

He chuckled. “If you’ve connected your YouTube account to this PC… I’ll find it.”

“…You are a menace.”

“And you’re a coward.”

You flipped him off through the screen.

Ronin just grinned. “Not down for a challenge, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s late. I gotta sleep.”

“Awww, you tuckin’ yourself in like a good little thing?”

“Shut the fuck up, dude.” You turned away from the screen, not looking at him.

Silence stretched for just a moment.

Then, softer than before, you glanced back—just a little.

“…Good night, Ronin.”

For the first time tonight, Ronin hesitated.

Something in his usual cocky expression shifted, just barely.

He stared at you, like he was caught off guard. Like he wasn’t expecting that.

Then, just as quick, his lips curled into something smaller. Less devilish.

“…Good night, sweetheart.”

Ronin leaned back in his chair, fingers idly tapping against his keyboard. His dark eyes gleamed as he smirked at the screen.

“…Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “Let’s see what you’re hiding.”

A few quick keystrokes. A lazy flick of his wrist. And there it was.

Your YouTube channel.

Ronin grinned, low and sharp. “Found you.”

But he didn’t click on it. Not yet.

No, he was patient. He liked the chase. Liked watching people squirm.

Instead, an idea slithered into his mind—something cruel. Something fun.

He wasn’t just gonna see it.

Everyone was.

Ronin’s fingers danced over his keyboard, tapping in silent rhythm. It took almost no effort. A few lines of code. A little redirection.

And suddenly?

Your channel was shared with the entire Slaughterhouse server.

A chat full of killers, freaks, and monsters.

Your secret little safe space? Exposed.

Ronin laughed, low and wicked. “This is gonna be fun.”

And the best part?

You weren’t even online to stop him.

The Slaughterhouse server was quiet—for now.

Everyone had logged in, settled into their usual chaotic energy, waiting for Ronin to start up his usual unhinged antics. But tonight, it seemed Ronin was in a different mood.

He stared at his screen, grinning like a devil, his fingers still hovering above the keys. The server's usual gang was online: Angelic, the femme fatale with a YouTube empire of her own; Misaki, the quirky hitman who never had a quiet moment; V, the cold vigilante who kept a rigid moral code; Vince, the nostalgic slasher; Felicite, the retired killer now pretending to be a normal university student; Luca, the surfer who somehow found himself in the world of murder; and Ai Hua, the ever-distant enigma.

Ronin didn’t waste any time. He quickly typed into the chat:

“Guess what I found, my darlings... Y/N’s YouTube channel.”

Angel immediately pinged. @angelicc

"Oh no..." Angelic's message was short, but it had that tone—the one that said she knew exactly what kind of hell Ronin was about to unleash.

The other members started popping up, one after another, curiosity piqued.

V (K9): “...What? Are you serious?”

Ronin leaned back, watching the chaos unfold. He loved seeing everyone scramble. “Aiooo… look at this.” He dropped the link into the chat for everyone to see.

@angelicc: “Wait, wait, wait—this can’t be real.”

(LUCAA) “WHAT?! They have millions of subscribers? This is—this is insane. What’s their content? That’s... SO COOL!”

Misaki, the ever-energetic hitman, followed up almost immediately.

@hitmeuppp: “I CAN’T EVEN—YOU'RE TELLING ME Y/N’S A HORROR GAMER YOUTUBER??! PMG, I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING. WHAT'S THE CHANNEL NAME?!”

Ronin grinned, watching them all react. His fingers danced across the keys, typing out a response.

“Oh, just a little horror gamer channel,” he replied, his words dripping with mock sweetness. “But I don’t think Y/N would want anyone to know about it.”

He didn’t give them the full name—he wasn’t that kind to them.

Luca (LUCA_IS_SO_COOL): “WTF, bro, I thought they were just some random writer— THEY’RE A YOUTUBER??”

Everyone’s reactions were flying through the chat, a mix of disbelief and curiosity. Everyone except for Ronin, who sat back and savored the moment.

“Y/N is a YouTuber.” He said it again, just to let the weight of it sink in. “But don’t worry, I’m not giving away the channel name just yet. Let’s keep things fun, huh?”

V (K9): “You’re seriously going to hold it over us like that?”

Ronin laughed, leaning into the drama. “What can I say? I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I will tell you this… Y/N’s channel is pretty damn cool.”

Felicite (RetiredKiller): “Wait, is this the Y/N I think it is?”

@hitmeuppp: “You mean the one with the killer humor and scream-worthy reactions?”

“Bingo,” Ronin said, eyes glinting with satisfaction.

But the excitement didn’t stop there. Ronin could feel the hunger growing in the chat. Everyone wanted more.

@angelicc: “...If we’re all spilling secrets, then tell me, Ronin. Why is Y/N so special to you?”

The room went silent for a moment, and Ronin couldn’t help but chuckle at the underlying question. Oh, they were getting too close.

V (K9): "Don't."

The chat stuttered to a halt.

Ronin, lounging in his chair, cocked an eyebrow. "Damn, K9, you sound serious."

V (K9): "I am serious. Don’t reveal their channel. It’s a safety risk."

Angel, usually the first to tease, kept quiet. Felicite, too. Even Misaki, who had been all caps screaming just a second ago, paused.

But Ronin?

Ronin grinned.

"Aww, V, you care."

V (K9): "No, I care about reckless decisions."

Luca chimed in, "V, c'mon, it’s not like we’re about to dox them or some shit."

V (K9): "Doesn’t matter. Their online presence is a vulnerability. The moment someone outside this server recognizes them, they're a target. And that means complications."

Silence.

Then—

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Ronin waved it off like it was nothing. "Good thing we’re not telling anyone, then."

V (K9): "...Then drop it."

Ronin chuckled. "Nah."

A new notification popped up.

Ronin started a voice call.

Ronin (goreboy): "Alright, bitches. We’re watching one of their videos. Get in VC."

V (K9): "...Ronin."

"Relax, dad," Ronin cooed mockingly. "No one outside this server is seeing shit. It’s just us. And I, for one, wanna see what my darling's been up to."

Hitmeuppp joined immediately. "FUCK YEAH, SCREEN SHARE IT."

Angel sighed, but she joined, too. "I swear to god, if it’s cringey—"

Felicite: "I mean, now I’m curious."

Luca: "Bro, this is actually wild. Are we really about to watch Y/N’s content?"

V didn't move.

"...V?" Ronin drawled. "You gonna join us, or you gonna sit there and sulk like a divorced dad on Christmas?"

V exhaled slowly. Then, finally, he joined.

V (K9): "If this backfires, I’ll kill you myself."

Ronin grinned. "Wouldn’t be the first to try."

Then, with a click, he started the video.

The voice chat buzzed with anticipation.

Ronin leaned back in his chair, watching the others filter into the call. He could already feel the tension from V’s judgmental ass, but he didn’t care. He had the upper hand, and he was going to savor this.

His fingers hovered over the mouse before he clicked play.

The YouTube title flashed on screen, big and bold:

"OUTLAST BUT IF I SCREAM, I OWE MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL (AND I AM BROKE)"

Ronin hit play.

The video opened with your voice—and chaos immediately followed.

"Alright, fuckers. Welcome back. Today, we’re playing Outlast, aka ‘Let’s Run For Our Fucking Lives: The Game.’ The rules? If I scream, I sell my soul. Which is fine, ‘cause let’s be real—I was never making it to heaven anyway."

The moment you appeared on screen, Misaki wheeze-laughed.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD—"

Luca was next. "Nah, why do they talk like this?!"

Angel let out a sharp snort. “This is actually insane.”

V just sighed. "Ugh."

Felicite, arms crossed, hummed. "I like their sense of humor."

Ronin?

Ronin was grinning ear to ear.

"Alright, let’s go. If you don’t know what Outlast is, congrats—you live a blessed life. Basically, I’m playing as a dumbass journalist with the survival instincts of a wet paper bag, sneaking into an abandoned asylum where everyone wants to murder me. So, y’know. A Tuesday."

Luca choked. "WHY TUESDAY?"

Misaki was dying. "Nah, I need to be best friends with them immediately."

Ronin leaned in, eyes gleaming with pure, devilish amusement. "Oh, it gets better."

The video continued.

The game dropped you in a dark hallway. Flickering lights. Creepy-ass atmosphere. Something skittered past in the shadows.

You paused.

"...Nah."

Then you turned around and walked the other way.

Angel burst out laughing. "SAME THO."

"Nope. Not today. I already know how this goes—first jumpscare happens, I shit myself, and y’all in the comments act surprised like we haven’t been through this a thousand times. Not this time, Satan. Not this time."

Ronin grinned. "They’re so dramatic."

V didn’t even blink. "They’re a coward."

"Fine. I guess I have to go forward. But if I get jumpscared, I’m taking someone with me. You hear that, God? If I die, I’m bringing company."

"—OH SHIT—"

Something lunged from the darkness.

You screamed.

Loudly.

Misaki cackled. “OH MY GOD—"

Luca was crying. "BRO, THEY SOUND LIKE A DYING GOAT."

Angel was wheezing. "I CAN'T."

Ronin? Ronin was laughing his ass off.

V, deadpan as always, just muttered, “Pathetic.”

The game continued.

You ran. And ran. And ran.

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR—WHY IS IT LOCKED—WHO DESIGNED THIS FUCKING ASYLUM—"

"If I get caught I’m suing someone’s ghost."

"PLEASE—I AM JUST A LITTLE person—"

Felicite actually smirked. "Y/N’s unhinged."

"I hate this. I hate everything. I am so close to throwing my controller. If a jumpscare happens, I am not responsible for my actions."

"—OH YOU BIG BITCH—"

A monster appeared out of nowhere. Right in your face.

You shrieked.

"I HOPE YOUR PILLOW IS ALWAYS WARM ON BOTH SIDES."

Luca gasped. "OH, NAH, THAT’S EVIL."

"I HOPE EVERY TIME YOU PUT ON SOCKS, THEY’RE JUST A LITTLE DAMP."

Angel was crying. "STOP."

"I HOPE YOUR PHONE CHARGER ONLY WORKS WHEN IT’S AT A SPECIFIC ANGLE—"

"—AND YOUR HEADPHONES ALWAYS TANGLE—"

"—AND EVERY TIME YOU POUR CEREAL, YOU RUN OUT OF MILK—"

Misaki collapsed. "FUCKING STOP—"

Even Ronin was gripping his stomach.

"Sweetheart," he chuckled, "you’re a fucking menace."

But the game wasn’t done with you.

Another monster appeared.

Your screams intensified.

"NO. NOPE. NO SIR. I AM A GOOD PERSON—"

"I pay my taxes—"

"I tip my baristas—"

"I DON’T DESERVE THIS—"

"IF I DIE, I’M HAUNTING EVERYONE—"

V sighed heavily. "This is ridiculous."

Ronin just smirked. "What, V? Not a fan?"

V, voice completely flat: "I hate them."

Misaki wheezed. "V, my guy, I have never heard you sound this pissed."

Ronin let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, but we’re not done yet."

The video hit its peak.

"Alright, final chase sequence—LET’S GO, BITCHES—"

"—FUCKING RUN—"

"IF I DIE, I AM TAKING THIS GAME WITH ME TO HELL—"

"THE ONLY THING I FEAR IS GOD AND MY INTERNET CONNECTION DROPPING—"

"OH MY FUCKING—"

Game Over.

You died.

Silence.

Then—

"Welp. I hope everyone watching this stubs their toe at least once today."

The server exploded.

Luca: "FUCKING TOXIC."

Misaki: "THIS WAS THE BEST VIDEO OF MY LIFE."

Angel: "Y/N’S HUMOR IS SO FUCKED UP I LOVE IT."

Felicite: "They are… interesting."

V, exhaling through his nose: "This was a mistake."

Ronin?

Ronin was grinning like the devil himself.

Ronin was already clicking away, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The next video title appeared, and the moment everyone read it, the laughter started all over again.

"PLAYING P.T. BUT THE DEMON IS SIMPING FOR ME (AND YES, IT'S A FETISH NOW)"

Ronin: "Get ready, kids."

The video opened with you on screen again, but this time, you were in a creepy hallway, staring down a flickering light, the atmosphere ominously quiet. The game, P.T., was known for its unnerving tension, but of course, you were having the time of your life.

"Alright, welcome back, everyone, to me screaming for my life in yet another horror game. Today we’re playing P.T., and I’m so fucking ready to die, I can already feel my heart giving up."

Luca's voice popped up. "P.T.? P.T.?! I love that one."

Misaki’s voice followed, filled with mock enthusiasm. "Oooh, scary."

V muted himself. He was done. Too much.

But it didn’t stop Ronin from grinning even harder. "Shut up, all of you. Just watch."

The tension in the game was already crushing, the haunted house creeping around every corner, but you weren’t letting it get to you. You weren’t going to let it drag you down.

"Okay, so—what’s the plan? Find the baby head in the wall and, like… fight a ghost or some shit? Oh, I hope it’s not the weird demon. I already hate the way it stares at me."

Misaki could barely speak through their laughter. "HOLY SHIT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN—"

Luca, too, was dying. "NAH, THEY'RE JUST TALKING ABOUT IT LIKE IT’S NO BIG DEAL."

Ronin laughed, watching the chaos unfold. You had them hooked, just like last time.

Then you started walking down the hallway. And just like that, everything started to go wrong.

Out of nowhere, a dark figure appeared at the far end of the hallway.

"What the FUCK—"

The lights flickered, casting long shadows, and you could hear the unsettling sounds of footsteps getting closer, getting heavier. The demon was near.

"Oh, hell no. NOT TODAY. NOPE. NOT DEALING WITH THIS SHIT AGAIN."

You turned and ran—straight into the demon.

The loud, gurgling scream of the ghost filled the speakers as it lunged at you. But instead of a jump-scare scream, you immediately started—laughing.

"HOLY SHIT, I HATE THIS GAME—BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I KIND OF LIKE THE ATTENTION, YOU KNOW? IS THIS A SIMP MOVE, DEMON? YOU WANT MY SOUL? YOU GONNA GET IT ON A DISCOUNT?"

The VC erupted in chaos.

Misaki was laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe. "WHAT THE FUCK—NO WAY, DID THEY JUST—"

Luca, still holding back his giggles, managed to gasp out, "THE DEMON—IS SIMPING—"

Even Angel was wheezing, face buried in her hands. "THE DEVIL IS SIMPING—FOR MY DARLING—"

Meanwhile, V was still muted. But you could tell he was shaking his head. He couldn’t even deal.

Ronin, on the other hand, was grinning ear to ear. "Oh, sweetheart, you’re a fucking menace. Keep going."

The video had already cut to a new section, showing you attempting to solve the puzzle in the game, all while completely losing your mind.

"Alright, let’s figure out how to—OH GOD, THE WALL IS BREATHE—WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GAME, THIS SHIT IS SO WRONG—"

"AM I GONNA DIE, OR DO I GET THE BAD ENDING WHERE THE DEMON KEEPS ASKING FOR MY TWITTER HANDLE AND THEN DMS ME AT 2 AM ASKING IF I WANT TO ‘CHILL’??? LIKE, WHAT EVEN IS THIS—"

Luca was practically rolling on the floor. "BRO, Y/N’S GOT THE DEMON AT 2 AM IN THE DMs. WHAT THE FUCK?"

Angel snorted. "IMAGINE A DEMON ASKING FOR YOUR TWITTER HANDLE—"

Meanwhile, Ronin was cackling, clearly loving every moment of it. "Oh, I swear, I have never seen someone so obsessed with making everything worse. And I love it."

The tension in the game was escalating, but you weren’t having any of it.

The demon’s voice came through the speakers again, calling you, taunting you.

"Oh, you want me to come closer? Yeah? Come give me a kiss, you sick fuck."

The demon stopped right in front of you, its twisted face smirking.

You immediately shouted, "FUCK OFF, I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS FLIRTING."

Misaki, completely unhinged, screamed, "BRUHHHH—THEY’RE TALKING TO THE DEMON LIKE IT’S NOTHING."

Luca almost couldn't contain himself. "SOMEONE GET THEM A TINDER ACCOUNT."

Ronin snickered, shaking his head. "You know, if they just let the demon have its way, we’d probably be done with the game by now."

But you weren’t backing down. No way.

You turned toward the door, and the puzzle had finally clicked. You solved the issue.

"Alright, fuck this shit. I’m out. I beat it, I solved the goddamn mystery, and I’m gonna go cry in a corner like the rest of us would."

The video ended abruptly with you standing in front of the door. Then came the outro, as usual.

"Okay, that’s enough of this shit. I’m gonna go crawl into bed now. If you see a demon in your hallway tonight, tell it I’m busy. I’ve got too many fucking simps already. Bye."

The voice channel exploded.

Misaki: "OH MY GOD, THIS IS THE BEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN."

Luca: "BRO, THEY REALLY JUST TOLD A DEMON TO FUCK OFF LIKE IT WAS A TINDER DATE."

Angel: "I cannot with them."

V finally unmuted himself, his tone icy. "This is madness."

But even V, as deadpan as ever, couldn’t stop a tiny smirk from slipping onto his face. "…I’m actually impressed."

The laughter in the voice chat was so loud, even V muted himself, unable to hide the slight smirk that played at the corner of his lips. Misaki was practically on the floor at this point, Luca's voice wavering between choking on air and outright giggling. Angel had her mic muted to contain her cackles, and Felicite just kept shaking her head, trying to maintain some level of composure.

But Ronin?

Ronin was beaming, like a cat who'd just eaten the canary. He'd won, and he was going to relish every damn second of it. He wiped tears from his eyes, his laughter finally fading into a satisfied chuckle as he settled back into his chair.

"Y'know," he started, smirking into the mic, "this is exactly why I adore you, sweetheart. Your humor’s so fucking dark it gives me hope."

V unmuted himself just enough to add, his voice deadpan as usual, "I told you this was a bad idea."

Misaki cut in, barely able to breathe. "A bad idea? No, no, this is the best idea we've had in ages!"

Luca agreed, barely able to form words through his snickers. "I can't believe you went THERE with the toe-stubbing thing. That's psychotic."

Ronin grinned. "You guys ain't seen nothing yet."

Without another word, Ronin opened up another game.

This time, it was "The Haunting of Abaddon Manor."

The title screen was eerie—dark, sepia tones, a decrepit mansion surrounded by fog, the kind of game that oozed dread from the get-go.

Ronin clicked to begin the game, his fingers dancing across the keys as he casually glanced back at the chat, anticipating the reactions.

"Alright, alright, ladies and gents, we're about to enter Abaddon Manor. It's got everything: creepy ghosts, insane-asylum vibes, and the worst part? There's a demonic doll lurking somewhere. I don’t trust dolls, y’all. They definitely have something to hide."

Misaki: "I don't even trust dolls in real life, bro. Like, how does something so small, with no moving parts, look so evil?"

Luca: "I’m not even playing and I'm already scared."

Ronin chuckled darkly, adjusting his headset. "Well, buckle up. We’re about to do the demon doll dance, whether we like it or not."

He dove in, leading the way through the haunted manor. The atmosphere was thick, every creak and moan of the old house seeming to whisper threats into the air.

And then...

The first jumpscare hit.

"What the fuuu—"

Ronin screamed, his voice cracking slightly. But as soon as the horrifying shadow darted across the screen, he laughed. A long, maniacal laugh. "Goddamn, that one was actually pretty good."

Misaki lost it. "BRO! What are you, a fucking demon? Who laughs at their own fear?"

Luca was still half-laughing, half-terrified. "Why do I feel like I’m watching a horror movie with a psychopath?"

But it didn’t stop there.

No, Ronin was on a roll.

"Alright, alright. Now we’ve got some creepy whispers in the background. This place is a fucking nightmare, and I’m the only one who can survive it. Or die trying—whichever comes first."

The camera swung wildly, a door creaking open by itself, and then—the doll.

The doll, with its twisted porcelain face and sinister grin, appeared at the top of the staircase, watching Ronin's character move closer.

"OH SHIT," Ronin whispered, voice actually laced with genuine unease. "NOPE. NOT TODAY."

And then he started running, slamming doors behind him in a frantic attempt to escape the doll.

But then, as if taunting him, the doll’s laugh echoed through the house.

"I SEE YOU."

"AHHHHHHHH, FUCK OFF."

Ronin screamed again, but this time, the laughter that followed was relentless. He was losing his mind in the best way possible.

Meanwhile, in the voice chat...

Misaki, still trying to breathe, shouted, "Nuh-uh, fuck this! Ronin's so gone—"

Angel laughed uncontrollably. "Literally acting like a serial killer in the making."

V, deadpan as always, muttered, "Pathetic."

But just as Ronin went to explore a new room in the manor, something unexpected happened.

You joined the voice call.

You'd been quiet for a while, working on some of your own content, but now—now you were here.

The moment you entered, the others fell into an awkward silence. And then—

You heard it.

The familiar voice of Ronin, the man who had just shown you the depths of hell in his own twisted way, now speaking the very words you’d been dreading.

"Y/N—"

He chuckled darkly, the screen of his game flickering as he leaned back in his chair, still amused by the game, still completely unfazed. "I found your channel. Everyone is about to get a front-row seat."

Your blood ran cold.

"What the fuck did you say?"

Ronin's grin only grew, more sinister by the second. "I said, I found your channel, sweetheart. And I’m showing everyone. What, you think I wouldn’t share? It’s just too good. Too much fun."

"NOOOOOOO!"

You could feel your skin burn, a wave of absolute embarrassment hitting you like a freight train. "Ronin, what the FUCK, no!"

"Oh, it’s too late for that. You’re already famous now, darling. You’re mine. Ours."

You could hear the smirk in his voice as it oozed into every word.

The others?

They were laughing, but their laughter was mixed with a touch of shock.

Misaki was the first to shout. "NO WAY. BRO."

Luca’s voice was tinged with disbelief. "Y/N’S CHANNEL IS THE ONE WITH OVER TWO MILLION SUBSCRIBERS? THE FUCK—"

Angel snorted. "Holy shit, and I thought I had a good sense of humor."

Felicite raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you're so... unpredictable."

V, in his usual deadpan tone, simply said, "This was a mistake."

But Ronin was having the time of his life. His eyes sparkled with malicious glee as he leaned forward, eager to reveal every unhinged thing you'd ever said on your channel.

"Don’t worry, baby. This is just the beginning. You’re gonna love it."

You groaned, the shame creeping up your spine like an ice-cold knife. "Fuck you, Ronin!"

His only response was a laugh, deep and menacing. "Hell, sweetheart. You’re mine. We’re all gonna watch."

You sat there, staring at your screen in absolute betrayal, feeling your soul physically leave your body as Ronin continued grinning like the bastard he was.

You tried everything—leaving the voice chat, shutting off your mic, even throwing your headset across the room like a dramatic anime protagonist—but nothing could erase the unholy shame burning inside you.

Your channel. Your secret, your baby, the thing you had kept hidden from Ronin this entire time.

And he found it.

And worse, he was showing everyone.

"You—fucking—I— WHY."

Ronin chuckled, his voice oozing smugness. "What’s wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?"

"Cat got my—!? YOU—!" You let out the most pitiful wail, genuine tears of mortification well up in your eyes. "You—YOU BULLIED ME. I’M BEING CYBERBULLIED IN REAL TIME."

Angel, being the only one with a heart in this godforsaken hellhole, immediately jumped in. "Aww, Y/N, honey, nooo, don’t cry," she cooed, mothering you instantly.

"HE EXPOSED ME, ANGEL!" you sniffled dramatically, clinging onto your last shred of dignity. "MY SECRET, MY FAME, MY HORROR GAMER LEGACY—RUINED."

Angel patted your metaphorical head. "I know, sweetie, I know. He’s an asshole. A MENACE."

Ronin gasped, placing a hand over his chest in fake offense. "Angel, babe, I’m standing right here."

"GOOD," you sobbed, "Fucking cry about it."

Misaki, of course, was no help. "Pffft—oh my god. I can’t tell if Y/N is actually crying or if this is the funniest breakdown I’ve ever witnessed."

Luca was also losing his mind, barely breathing between wheezes. "Bro, this is actual harassment. Call the cops. Oh wait, you can’t. We're all criminals."

Even Felicite, who was normally the reasonable one, was giggling into her mic. "Y/N, come on, you have to admit—this is hilarious."

"NO, IT’S NOT." you hiccupped, burying your face in your hands. "MY LIFE IS OVER. I CAN’T GO ON."

Angel continued rubbing your back (spiritually, since this was a voice chat). "There, there, sweetheart. Let it all out."

Ronin, meanwhile, was still laughing his ass off, but there was something else in his voice—something genuinely amused.

"Aw, come on, darlin’," he drawled, voice drenched in teasing affection. "You’re acting like I just leaked your government files or some shit."

"YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE!"

Another round of laughter erupted in the VC.

"Come on, look at the bright side," Ronin continued, his tone dripping with amusement. "Now I get to witness the absolute insanity you put your poor subscribers through."

Misaki gasped dramatically. "Wait, wait, hold up. You mean to tell me Y/N has been saying this level of bullshit on a public platform for literal years, and we’re just now finding out!?"

Luca snorted. "The fact that people are willingly subscribed to this brand of insanity is crazy to me."

"EXCUSE ME," you snapped, sniffling, gaining the tiniest bit of your spine back. "I have millions of subscribers who adore me, thank you very much. Unlike your asses, they support me."

Ronin grinned. "Oh, I support you, darling. I just like watching you suffer while I do it."

"FUCK YOU, RONIN."

"I mean, yeah, but I feel like this ain’t the time for that convo, sweetheart," he purred.

"I HATE YOU SO MUCH."

Ronin just laughed, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flip because it was so genuinely delighted. Like he was actually having the time of his life messing with you.

"You love me," he said, grinning.

Angel clicked her tongue. "No, Ronin. I love you. Y/N is currently plotting your murder."

You sniffed, still pouting like a kicked puppy. "I hope you fucking stub your toe on every corner you walk past."

Misaki burst out laughing. "OH MY GOD. THEY’RE STILL CURSING HIM OUT."

Ronin, completely unfazed, chuckled. "Mmm. Say that again, sweetheart. But slower."

"I HOPE YOUR KNEE SLAMS INTO EVERY TABLE EDGE IN EXISTENCE, YOU ASS."

Felicite wheezed. "Holy shit."

Luca choked. "Bro—they’re actually unhinged."

V, who had been silent the entire time, finally sighed.

"Are we done?" he asked, in the flattest tone possible.

[alatusperegrinus]

What if Caelus, Dan Heng, and Welt Yang were equally obsessed with you at the same time— you, the new addition to the Astral Express?

Caelus/Dan Heng/Welt Yang x Reader (NSFW)

At first, Dan Heng was unsure of his feelings towards you. He knew that having an attraction to someone was a completely normal occurence, and it'll be gone with time. But he couldn't understand as to why it gets harder the longer you stayed at the express. His mind couldn't stop flashing images of you whenever he's alone in the archives. His eyes couldn't stop wandering at your features whenever you two meet at the lounge (he stops staring and looks away exactly right before your gaze lands at him).

Whenever Himeko would task you with something that requires looking at the data bank, Dan Heng would go insane (not that he would ever admit) whenever you're too near from him. He could smell the perfume you sprayed on your neck, the detergent you use for laundry, your shampoo, and the lotion you use occasionally. It's smells so... you, that he would try to inhale deeply with discreet.

That time Dan Heng knew he was in too deep was when he felt your breath touch his neck as you leaned and looked closely on the screen he was pointing at.

Dan Heng held his breath for a split second, eyes widening and fluttering in shock. He quickly regained control of his breathing, he has to. But of course, he doesn't have full control of his body as his cock started to harden.

Good thing you didn't stay at his room for too long. Dan Heng quickly locked his door after you left. Rushing to his futon, he sloppily pulled his pants down to his knees, not bothering to remove them fully. He bit a thick part of his shirt to muffle his noises as he jerked himself off with haste. With his eyes closed tightly, an image of you flashed without hesitation. How would you sound like if you were the one he's pleasuring? How would you taste on his tongue, how would you feel as he touches you all over?

He would come so quick and hard from those thoughts of you. Dan Heng sighed, it's going to be harder from now on.

Caelus knew he liked you ever since the first trailblazing expedition he had with you. You were strong, calm, and very protective of the team. Not to mention the way you presented yourself during combat (that were sometimes the subject of his wet dreams). Caelus realized that he loved hearing you laugh at his iconic responses. Sometimes his humor was forcedly executed, earning only a snicker or a face palm from you, but at least he still gets to bask in your divine attention.

Caelus would gain confidence as time goes on. He would drop flirtatious comments whenever you two were the only ones in the room. You would giggle and flirt back with him, but it only stays there.

Caelus would be the type to jerk off more than 3x a week at the thought of you. Yes, without shame he fucks his fist during his shower time. Good thing his shower's placed a bit far from the entrance of his room, so no one could hear his pathetic whines and moans of your name.

Mr. Welt Yang, the express' most reliable guide, who couldn't help but fancy you as well.

There was just something about you that sparks curiousity in him, something that he had never felt before.

You two would spend time playing competitive games, read books from your personal library, and watch old animations from his planet. But Welt enjoys conversations with you the most. Whenever you two talk, time flies so quickly that the both of you were suprised that it's been two hours or so. During those conversations, he was able to get to know you deeper. Your values, your philosophies, your train of thoughts— Welt could list hundreds of things he likes about you. But he loves the way you make him feel.

You make him feel alive. As if you were an adventure he has always longed for. You make Welt feel so young. Especially during vulnerable talks between you and him felt natural and most importantly, safe.

But Welt, even with his age, is inexperienced. He's fully aware of his feelings for you, yet he's struggling to act on it. So he resorts to underhanded methods to satisfy his yearning for you.

You know Welt Yang is a nerd, adorably so. But did you even know he's a downright pervert? Don't blame him— it was because of you he's like this.

Welt hopes you don't keep count of your undies. He just took one with him, promise, only one. He'll bring it back after, along with your clean laundry.

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / FINAL

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of suicide, heavy angst, please be cautious as always! <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

The weight on your shoulders was heavy and exhausting. It caused your body and soul to ache with a crushing feeling of grief. Your conversation with Price played in your mind tenfold, repeating over and over until it drove you to the point of insanity. You feared if you stayed stuck in the loop for a moment longer, your brain might short circuit and you’d succumb to life’s torturous game.

How had things come to this?

Two weeks ago, you should’ve been dead. Two weeks ago, you should’ve denied Ghost’s abrupt deal, you should’ve told him the truth – that you had no intentions of living past that very Friday the two of you planned meticulously to end your life.

Two weeks ago, you should’ve never met Simon.

What was meant to be a task given to you with the purpose of self healing had erupted into an even scarier nightmare. Life would’ve never been so complicated had you denied Simon and stuck to your original plan on desired death. It would’ve never been so complicated had you just done it all yourself instead of pussying out and asking him to finish the job for you.

Now, all that remained was a heart beyond repair, fragments of its shattered pieces being taken away with Simon when he had left.

He had the entirety of your heart, and you didn’t think you’d ever get it back. You couldn’t take it back if you wanted to. It belonged to him, and your heart was loyal to its owner.

All that was left was the, what now? Price had made it clear he couldn’t promise anything. Hell, you wouldn’t blame him if he had just said that in a half-assed attempt of comfort. For all you knew, Simon hadn’t a clue what was going on in the first place, or perhaps he didn’t care. Living without closure of what could’ve been had left you scarred and untrusting, even of the very man you’d fallen in love with.

Love was what always got you into this mess, after all. You couldn’t love yourself, so God was executing punishment by making you unlovable to everyone else. If anything, you should be thanking him for steering you away from more heartache.

Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Simon giving you a taste of what life could be if you had just tried harder, before pulling the candy right out of your mouth before you could protest that you weren’t quite finished with it.

You didn’t reach out to Simon. Even though you were blocked from the moment the two of you had sex and he ran, you didn’t dare try and test out your theory to see if he had undone his action. You weren’t even sure you knew what you could say to him.

While it was clear Price played a dirty hand in creating the drift between the two of you, Simon still allowed himself to be a puppet on Price’s string. It boiled you to the core, filled you with resentful distaste that you couldn’t quite swallow.

It was hard to accept that you hated him almost as much as you loved him.

No matter how angry you were at the world for the hand it was dealing you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. Not on your own. Even through the hole of emptiness that rattled you to the bone, a spark of hope shone from deep within you, and that was what kept you going. It was the faintest of light, fighting to stay ablaze. No matter how puny and weak it was, it was still there, cheering you on in a gentle voice to keep going.

As much as you didn’t want to listen, you did.

Life’s a bitch and then you die. But maybe if you gave it one final chance at redemption, things may work out in your favor this time. And if they didn’t? The original plan was always in the cards.

Simon left Price in the dust the moment he uttered those words. Go and get your bird back, Simon.

He had never heard something so beautiful, so breathtaking. It was his call back home, and he’d be an absolute tool if he didn’t rush to return to its welcoming arms.

He didn’t care how ridiculous he looked running along the streets in the middle of the night. Hell, he didn’t even bother to put his mask on. Tonight, he was Simon, and he was wearing his identity with pride. Ghost was tucked away in the darkest depths of his mind, caged in and hidden. With you, he didn’t want to be Ghost. He didn’t want to be a man who thrived off of the stolen lives of the innocent in order to pay his bills. He didn’t want to be the broken version of himself that imprisoned his own vulnerability.

He wanted to be the man who could give you a colorful life filled with painted sunsets and warm rays. Only Simon could do that, and he’d throw Ghost away if that was what it took.

The closer Simon got to your apartment, the more the nerves wracked his body with a faint tremor. Would you even speak to him? Forgive him? He knew he didn’t deserve it. Hell, he deserved a cold fist to the jaw and a stab wound to the heart.

The least he could do was try.

He pondered if he should get you something. Flowers, maybe, but when it came down to it, flowers were a pathetic excuse for an apology. No, Simon wanted to do this right. He had spent his entire life partaking in wrongdoings. For once, just once, he wanted to be good.

The sight of your building nearly had him throwing up on the concrete beneath his boots. It turned his stomach in a sickeningly sweet way, coating his tongue with bitter cottonmouth. For the first time since he could remember, Simon was scared. Downright terrified.

While the feeling should be seen in a negative light, he saw it as the complete opposite. It meant he was alive. He was still human. He still harbored emotions that Ghost had so desperately tried to get rid of.

Even after everything, he was still Simon.

His feet grew heavier and heavier with every step he took into your building, up the raggedy stairs, and down the dim hall, just like the routine he had always fallen into when waiting for you to return from work. Things may be different now, and he may be venturing on the same path with a different ending this time, but that didn’t mean he was led astray. Different could mean better, and he could only pray to the very God putting him through hell that his outcome would be brighter than before.

Simon didn’t know how long he stood outside of your door. He willed himself to knock, but he was struggling internally. The truth was, he was scared to see you. Seeing you meant facing the result of his regretful actions, and he wasn’t sure he could handle recognizing you as broken because of him.

He dug this grave, he wallowed in it, and now it was time to crawl his way out and make things right.

His fist shook as he raised it to knock on the door. Knuckles collided with the old wood, echoing sharply in his ears. Anxiety crept into his bones, leaving him in an uncomfortable suffocation. He felt as if he wouldn’t be able to breathe until you were in front of him. The room felt small, it was closing in on him. He wondered if this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve just left you alone, maybe he should’ve kept you out of his mess–

“Simon?”

The air that was tightening in his lungs exhaled in a slow, trembling breath, shoulders going slack from their tightly wound stiffness. Your voice was his oxygen, and he could finally breathe again.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, and God, did it feel jubilating to say that name again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, and the bitterness in your tone was clear. It sunk into him like a thousand knives, coursing him with relentless pain.

“I need to fix this,” he gasped out. “Please, sweetheart, let me fix this. I know I fucked up, alright? I fucked up bad.”

You stared at him in disdain, but Simon could see the glimmer of a burning ache in your eyes that matched his own. You missed him just as much as he missed you, but your hurt overruled everything else. He didn’t blame you one bit.

“You left me after you had sex with me, Simon,” you spat with dripping fire that scorched him with every word. “You left me after everything. You expect me to just let you come here and tell me you fucked up, as if I didn’t know that?”

Simon could feel his resolve slipping away. He wanted to panic, to spit out useless apologies until one of them worked and you caved, but that wasn’t how this was going to go. Simon would have to work for it, and he’d be damned if he let you slip away. He’d spend the rest of his life working for it if it meant having you in the end.

“Sweetheart–”

“Fucking– I’m not doing this in my doorway. Just… just come inside,” you sighed out, utterly defeated. You didn’t have to tell Simon twice. He stepped into your apartment cautiously, letting you know that you were in complete control. You were in charge, and Simon was here to take the beatdown, no matter how painful it may be.

Upon entering, your apartment was in havoc. It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t disgusting or revolting, but it was clear you spent most of your days cooped up in your room. Simon felt guilt eat away at him from the mere sight alone.

“Tell me how I can fix this,” Simon pleaded. Everything about his body language was desperate, distressed. His hands spoke for him, moving animatedly, unable to control himself. He was begging. For the first time in his life, he was begging.

“I’m not telling you how to fix anything, Simon. You’re the one supposed to fix it on your own. I’m not going to do it for you,” you explained in eerie calmness, but it was unmistakingly exhaustion. He couldn’t imagine how much he had put you through.

He knew you were right. This was Simon’s responsibility, and begging you for the cure would be easy on him and harder for you. He couldn’t allow that to happen. You’d already been burdened enough.

Simon stared at you, eyes glossed over, eyebrows pulled together from his stir of emotions. The way you stared back was empty, and it broke his heart that he was the reason for the light going out so soon after gaining it back.

He contemplated what to do. There were many ways this could go sideways, and he couldn’t risk that. He had to pick what was right in his heart, even if it meant shoving away the pride he’d grown accustomed to over the years of being alone and hollow.

Simon slowly got down on his knees, hands clasped in his lap, and he gazed up at you in woe. He was baring himself to you completely, stripping himself of all defenses, and succumbing to vulnerability. Never had Simon gotten on his knees for another person. His ego was too large, and he refused to let himself express weakness.

For you, he’d hang himself dry.

“What are you–”

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice soft yet broken, brimming with anguish. “I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. Nothin’ I say will make it better. I can’t change it, no matter how much I wish I could. I fucked up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness for leavin’ you the way I did, for hurtin’ you like everybody else has done. I gave you an empty promise, and even then, I broke it.”

You were speechless from where you stood, peering down at this burly man on his knees for you. Your eyes never strayed away from his, and you recognized the familiar spark of despair in them. They looked just like yours every time you looked in the reflection. He was a mirror of you, just as you were a mirror of him.

“I was scared of losin’ you because of my job. I didn’t think a sweet thing like you deserved to be involved with a man like me. I didn’t want you hurt,” he explained, and the faintest crack in his voice showed you just how hard this was for him as well. You weren’t the only one suffering the consequences.

“Yet you hurt me anyway,” you whispered brokenly, and Simon deflated.

“I know,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I know, sweetheart. I let my fear control me, and it caused me to make things worse. It wasn’t fair t’you. I fucked up, and I’m so sorry.”

Your own resolve was faltering. You wanted so badly to be angry, to kick him out and be done with him. Strip him from your life and return to your days of wallowing in loneliness and misery.

You couldn’t. Every word was like a small bandaid over a too-big wound, but it was an attempt. He was trying. Nobody had ever tried with you before.

“Y’know,” you began, voice as soft as a whisper. “One of your boys came by to see me. Price.”

Simon blinked, surprise morphing on to his face. He swallowed anxiously, fists squeezing in his lap before he forced them to relax.

“And?”

You stared at him for a moment, shifting through your words in your mind.

“He tried to get me to cut you off. Tell you that I was better off, that I didn’t want you around anymore. He thought it would be best,” you finished quietly, shifting your eyes away from him in a moment of guilt. You weren’t sure why you were feeling it, but you’d recognize that uncomfortable lump in your throat anywhere. “I told him no.”

Simon’s eyebrows raised, eyes darting over your face to read your expression. “You did?”

“Yeah,” you confessed, shifting uncomfortably. “Told him… told him you didn’t deserve that.”

His heart ached painfully in his chest. What a lovely woman you were, defending him even after he had wronged you. How stupid he was for letting his own past misfortunes creep into the present.

He should be mad at Price for invading in on his personal business, but if he didn’t, Simon might not be here right now, kneeling before you and pleading for forgiveness. Price gave him an in, he gave him a chance, even if he went behind his back to do so.

Go and get your bird back, Simon.

It made sense now. Simon nearly laughed in bitter humor.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured gently, finally gaining your gaze back. Your eyes had softened from their hardened walls you built back up again, and he prayed he had a chance. “I know it’s not goin’ to fix anythin’. You’re still angry with me, and you have every right t’be. But if you still decide to throw me out, to never speak t’me again, then I want you t’know that I love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, chest pulling tight. A mixture of pain and relief coursed through your veins, and you weren’t sure which emotion to listen to. You weren’t sure what was right, but there was one thing you were sure of, and it was that you loved him, too. Heartbreakingly so.

“You do?” you whispered in uncertainty.

Simon rose from his kneeled position, taking a cautious step towards you. When you didn’t back away, he seized the opportunity to cradle your hands in his, holding them to his heart. “I do,” he repeated softly. “I’m not good at this, sweetheart. I’ve done a lot of terrible things. I’ve hurt people, I’ve killed people, yet loving somebody has always been the hardest thing to do. With you, it feels easy.”

You stared up at him, searching for any signs of dishonesty. What stared back at you was pure truth, his eyes flooding with a new light that promised love and confidence.

Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, you responded, “I love you, too. Even though I should hate you.”

For the first time since seeing him, Simon smiled. It was a boyish smile, one you’d never seen before, and it lit your entire world up. The sun was back out, the flowers were blooming, birds were chirping, and nature was at peace. It tugged on your heartstrings and pulled away all of the hurt that had resided inside.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. It brought you back to the first time the two of you shared a kiss, and the memory was fond. Despite all of the troubles and heartache, Simon was true to his word. Even if the world had failed the two of you, now was the time to change life’s course and rewrite your own future.

“Yes,” you sighed breathlessly.

Simon’s kiss was as familiar as before, but this time, it felt much more intimate. It was burning passion simmered down to tenderness, his hands cradling your face with the utmost care, treating you like frail china. He didn’t push or prod and instead moved with you rather than take control, letting you handle the reins this time.

It was a slow dance rather than a waltz, steady and unceasing.

“We’ll figure this out together, yeah?” he breathed against your lips, and you could feel the curl of his smile. You opened your eyes to peer into his own, unable to contain your own smile.

His lips returned to yours, and you melted into him. All that weight had been lifted so easily. All the rage had dissipated into nothing, being replaced with a warm, glowing light that filled your chest and threatened to burst.

This was all you wanted – to be content. To be happy.

You didn’t want to spend your days, awaiting an early death that would never come, nor did you want to waste it being burdened by the past that haunted you like a demonic spirit. This felt right.

When more and more feeling poured into the kiss, it shifted into something more starved, like two lovers who’d been separated for years. While you were falling into it, Simon was reluctant. Pulling away from you, you had a brief moment of uncertainty before he spoke.

“I don’t want to rush you like I did last time,” he explained gently. “The last thing I want is for you t’feel pressured. I’m not here for only that. M’here to fix this.”

“Simon,” you murmured, a warm smile on your face. “I know you aren’t. I want to do it. Is that okay?”

Simon stared at you for a moment, weighing out his options. While having sex was part of the reason the two of you ended up in this mess, it was the part after that really played a role. This time, things would be different.

“‘Course that’s okay, sweetheart,” he assured, returning your smile.

He was careful in guiding you to your room. While anxiety weighed heavy on his mind in messing things up further, he was determined to ensure that wouldn’t happen. The power was in his hands, and he’d use all of it in order to make you feel the love you deserve to feel.

Peeling off your clothes was a slow task. He took his time, reveling in the warmth of your skin, guiding his hands across every inch of flesh. He was worshiping you, showering you in praise and care. Sweet and reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured affectionately, lips pressing to your cheek, then jaw, then down your neck. You were laid out for him on the bed, looking like a goddess bathed in light. “Don’t know what I did t’deserve you.”

“Simon,” you whispered, feeling tears spring in your eyes. Noticing, he lifted himself up, brushing the pad of his thumb softly over your cheek, swiping away the stray tear. He smiled down at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

He didn’t leave you waiting, but he certainly didn’t rush either. He worked diligently in stretching you open on his fingers, curling into that familiar spot that had your breath catching and your back arching beautifully. Your moans were spoken sonnets that blessed his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to hear them for the rest of his life.

Simon didn’t stop his notions, working you open until you were a squirming, crying mess, kissing away your tears while drowning in bashfulness at the sight of your pleasure. You deserved to feel good, and he’d die making sure of it.

When he lined himself up with you and slowly pressed his cock inside until he was at the hilt, buried in your moist warmth, he let out a blissful sigh, knocking his forehead against yours. He didn’t tear his eyes off of you, watching every flicker of euphoria that flashed in your eyes when he moved his hips. Unlike last time, his pace was slow yet firm, allowing you to bask in the delicious feeling of his cock pressing against the gummy walls of your cervix with every thrust.

“I love you,” he breathed through a sigh, brushing away a strand of hair that stuck in a sweaty mess to your forehead. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. M’so lucky.”

You whimpered as he showered you in praise, wiggling from under him. The pleasure mixed with brimming love had you close to orgasm, clenching around him in a vice. He panted with you, breath fanning your face, only getting cut off when he’d lean down to kiss you.

It was a wonderful display of intimacy. This wasn’t just sex. He wasn’t ruining you, he wasn’t leaving you broken. He was leaving you overflowing with promises that he had every intention of keeping.

Simon swallowed up your moans with lips pressed to yours, fucking you through your orgasm, whispering sweet encouragements. He filled you, sealing those promises, his spend mixing with yours and bringing the two of you together as one.

Breathless and spent, Simon tangled you in his arms and legs, holding you close to his chest so he could feel your warmth against him. It brought him comfort and security, like a blanket being lovingly placed over him and consuming him in a snug embrace.

It was silent for a long time after, but neither of you minded it. You relished in the feeling of one another, and words weren’t needed.

“You’re not going to leave after I fall asleep, are you?” you whispered, breaking the silence with a brief moment of weakness. Simon shifted his head to look down at you, lifting a hand to cradle your head and card his fingers in your hair.

“No, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he assured, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You nodded against him, snuggling closer to him, cheek pressed against his chest.

“You weren’t here to see me make it to two weeks,” you said softly. Though the reminder hurt to hear, you held no resentment in your tone, which gave him a sense of relief.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized with a frown. When you peeked your head up to look at him, his eyes softened. It was like looking at the most beautiful thing crafted on this planet, and he had the absolute honor of calling it his.

“Maybe we can have a do-over,” you suggested, smiling cheekily at him. It enticed a laugh on his end, rumbling from his chest.

“How about instead of puttin’ a deadline on it this time, we keep count of the days that you wake up and accomplish seeing all the tomorrows. Deal?”

Your smile widened, and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s a deal.”

IT'S OFFICIALLY OVER!!!! I am so sad because I had such an amazing time writing this fic and it will truly always be one of my favorites. so many of you enjoyed it and supported me through it, and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've given me :,) I sincerely hope this ending is what everybody wanted and more. I love you all <3

[joaosnovia]

Hi! I'm going crazy after that Juventus vs. PSV match. Could you write something where the reader comforts Yildiz after this terrible game? He gave his all, even though he was put in during the final minutes, and his teammates seemed a bit slow.

❦ - in your arms, always.

summary:: kenan is frustrated after juventus’ tough loss against psv, feeling like he didn’t do enough despite giving his all in the final minutes. you’re there to comfort him, reminding him of his worth beyond a single match and offering the quiet support he needs. sometimes, being held is all it takes to ease the weight of disappointment.

warnings:: not really but it’s a bit angsty / comfort & mentions of self doubt.

writers note:: i saw this and instantly started writing loooord i love ts, anyways that’s so real bc i accidentally caught my reaction on camera and i was deadass going insane, anyways enjoy this fic as always!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added

the locker room was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums and made your chest feel heavy. even through the walls, the muffled cheers of the psv fans outside the stadium stung. juventus had lost.

you stood outside the players’ tunnel, waiting. you had seen it all, how kenan was put in late, how he tried, sprinted, fought, but his teammates felt a step behind. and now, after all that effort, defeat still clung to the air like a storm cloud.

the moment he stepped out, your heart ached. his head was down, damp hair falling over his forehead, shoulders slumped under the weight of frustration. he hadn’t even taken off his jersey yet, the fabric still clinging to him from sweat and exhaustion.

‘kenan.’ your voice was soft, but it was enough to make him look up. his eyes, usually filled with that spark of determination, were dull.

he let out a heavy sigh, raking a hand through his curls before walking over to you. ‘that was terrible,’ he muttered. ‘i barely got any minutes, and even when i did… it felt like no one was on the same page.’

you reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his, grounding him. ‘you did everything you could.’

his jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a quiet corner of the hallway, away from the noise of staff and players moving past. his grip tightened slightly, frustration evident in every part of him. ‘but it wasn't enough,’ he murmured. ‘i wanted to change the game. i wanted to..’ he exhaled sharply. ‘i should’ve done more.’

‘kenan,’ you whispered, reaching up to brush the damp strands of hair away from his forehead. ‘you barely got time to make an impact. and still, you played with your heart, you tried. i saw it. everyone watching saw it.’

his eyes met yours, searching, like he was trying to believe your words but struggling to let go of his own self-criticism. ‘it just.. it hurts,’ he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. ‘i hate feeling like this. like no matter what i do, it's not enough.’

you cupped his face gently, thumbs tracing slow circles against his skin. ‘you are enough,’ you said firmly. ‘one match doesn't change that. one loss doesn't erase all the talent, all the passion you bring to the game.’

he leaned into your touch, eyes slipping shut for a moment as if he was letting himself believe you, letting your warmth seep into the cracks frustration had left behind.

‘i just…’ he sighed again, but this time, his shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘i need to get better. i need to work harder.’

‘you will,’ you assured him. ‘but not tonight. tonight, you need to breathe. to rest. to let go, just a little.’

a small, exhausted chuckle left his lips as he shook his head. ‘you always know what to say, don't you?’

‘that’s because i know you,’ you said, squeezing his hand. ‘and i know that no matter what, you'll come back stronger. you always do.’

he exhaled, and then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his embrace was tight, desperate, like he needed you to hold him together. you wrapped your arms around him just as firmly, fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back.

‘i'm proud of you,’ you whispered into his shoulder. ‘not just for what you did tonight, but for the player, and person, you are.’

kenan didn’t say anything for a while. he just held you, grounding himself in your presence, letting the frustration slowly melt away. when he finally pulled back, there was still disappointment in his eyes, but there was something softer there too, something like hope.

‘come on,’ you said with a small smile. ‘let’s go home.’

and for the first time that night, he nodded without hesitation, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked away from the echoes of the match, into the quiet comfort of each other.

[retphienix]

I had the same issue with world but it's wild (heh) to me that the community around monhun is getting so max/min desperate when nothing has changed about the core balance of monhun.

like from day 1 it's been "if you can hit the monster and not die, you're doing enough" but in world, in part because of the rapid community expansion, in part because they put fucking damage numbers in the game (shoulda just been more defined hit sparks to say if it's a weakspot or armored spot, numbers were a mistake), in part because modern online discussion, in part because more skill details were put in game instead of needing things like kiranico to know what a skill actually does- but the general community became MUCH more desperate to be decked in that max/min setup, regardless of actually learning the gameplay part or fun, they just NEEDED the build.

No longer did you hear general discussion be "I want to make a really insane water build! I want to wear full x monster! I want to make an evasion build!" it's all "Biggest number for my weapon pls :)"

and now in wilds I'm hearing people go "You're really not bringing a secondary weapon to instant break x part of y monster so you can swap back to your primary and end the hunt in 3 minutes instead of 3:30?" and like, dude.

what's your deal?

I suppose this is primarily an issue with where I'll hear discussion, can't divorce my part in the exposure. This isn't a universal monhun thing because tons of people are still having fun instead of joining... idk, youtuber/reddit 'The Correct Way To Play' circles?

So my exposure is my problem. And in part because *I* like making my builds cohesively strong so fair point fair point.

it's just weird to me that I've been interested in things like hame sets for years and years and now the discussions I see in more mainline monhun circles seem to be "You NEED a speedrun best numbers biggest numbers best boom set so the hunt ends instantly or else you're failing at the game" and I'm like "Hunts are still like 50 minute timers, 35 if it's feisty, the way you are discussing the game is not accurate to how the game is."

I like making a big number build, I have some I really miss and cherish from some of the older games, but like.

there's more to do and that's a weird tone to carry lmao.

eh old man yells at clouds and wants cake and to eat it too since I like making "good" builds but am complaining about all the people talking about good builds (it's HOW it's spoken of, not THAT it's spoken of).

I get that I'm wrong, whatever