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⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+
— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)
part 1
𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.
𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 5 parts)
𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾... this is from my ao3, so enjoy <3
4.6k words
usagiibun2024🐇
Your half-open laptop sat forgotten on the couch, glowing with the low hum of an unfinished series you had tried to binge the night before. Eyes half-closed, you reached for your phone, fumbling to check the time.
8:30 a.m.
“Shit!”
You shot out of bed, tripping over the tangled sheets, heart pounding with the cold rush of adrenaline that only comes from missing something important. Today wasn’t just any day; it was the first lecture of the semester, and you were running late.
You quickly ran into the bathroom, throwing your clothes off and jumping into the shower. Your heart racing frnatucally as you quickly showered and turned it off almost slipping when you got out. The mirror offered you little comfort after you had tied your hair up messily, and threw on the first outfit you managed find—a crumpled sweater and jeans—looked less like ‘casual academic chic’ and more like ‘someone's given up.’ Still, it would have to do. You can go for the 'casual academic chic' tomorrow. Grabbing your bag, you bolted out the door, barely locking it behind you.
The world outside was already moving, buzzing with the noise of morning commuters and their routines. Your apartment building—an old, ivy-covered structure crammed between a café and a bookshop—seemed to blend into the city as you jogged down the street. The crisp autumn air clawed at your skin, urging you to move faster as the sounds of traffic and chatter filled the space around you.
The university campus wasn’t far, but today it felt like each step dragged you deeper into a sinking swamp. Your mind still swirled with the fog of sleep, your heart pounding as the towering lecture hall loomed ahead. A relic of academia, the stone building had seen its share of anxious students, no doubt making their way inside just like you. You could practically hear the ghost of every misstep made before you echoing off the ivy-covered walls.
You pushed open the heavy door, wincing as it creaked. The dim hallway was bathed in the dull yellow light of old fixtures, a stark contrast to the loud murmur of conversation from students filtering in. The quiet tap of your shoes on the worn wooden floor seemed deafening to your own ears.
Don’t be too late. Please.
Reaching the door to the lecture hall, you hesitated, already hearing the smooth, unhurried voice of the professor inside. His words were clear, deliberate, and somehow both calm and utterly dismissive. You slipped in quietly, praying no one would notice.
But then that voice, cool and laced with biting sarcasm, pierced through the room like a knife.
" Ah, nothing says commitment like showing up halfway through the lecture. Punctuality is, of course, the mark of true brilliance."
Your heart dropped. The entire class shifted uncomfortably, the air heavy with awkwardness. Your eyes flicked to the front of the room, but the professor hadn’t even glanced at you. His attention remained fixed on the screen, as if your tardiness was barely worth acknowledging beyond his cutting remark.
You ducked your head, praying you could melt into the crowd of students who were all pretending not to notice.
Settling into a seat at the back, you let out a slow breath. Great. First lecture of the semester, and already, you’d made an impression.
Alhaitham stood at the front, illuminated by the projector’s glow, a man who seemed entirely comfortable in the unyielding rigidity of academia. His pale skin stood out against the dark slate walls of the lecture hall, and his gray hair caught the light—silver at the tips with faint turquoise strands peeking through, subtle but noticeable. His eyes, those unnerving turquoise and gold-rimmed orbs, scanned the room without emotion, as if every student were a puzzle to be solved. His presence commanded attention without demanding it; there was an effortless authority about him, cold and unapologetic.
Everyone knew about him—the prodigy with an unrivalled intellect. But it was his pragmatism that made him infamous. He didn't mince words, nor did he soften his criticism. In his mind, academia was a battlefield, and if you weren’t equipped, you’d be left behind. At just 27, he was already regarded as one of the brightest minds in linguistics, with a list of publications and conference talks that read like someone twice his age. The department had celebrated his arrival like a prized acquisition after the sudden retirement of his predecessor.
As the lecture went on, his words became a blur, and your thoughts wandered. You’d heard the stories. Alhaitham had published papers before most people could finish their dissertations. He was already considered a leading figure in linguistics, and he’d barely been teaching for a year.
You looked around, catching glimpses of students furiously scribbling notes, trying to keep up. But you… you weren’t even processing his words. You were too busy stewing in your own frustration. He wasn’t just smart—he was smug. His entire demeanor screamed ‘I’m better than you,’ and somehow, that got under your skin.
The worst part? He was brilliant. There was no denying that. The ease with which he unraveled complex theories was almost infuriating. It wasn’t just knowledge; it was a performance of intellect, delivered with such cold precision that it made you feel small.
Your phone buzzed causing your eyes to widen as you quickly looked up towards Professor Alhaitham explaining something from a slide. You slide your phone on your desk as you glanced down briefly.
A request for a private session.
You rolled your eyes, stuffing the phone back into your pocket. The cam sessions weren’t supposed to interfere with your life like this. It was just supposed to be something you did on the side. Something that helped keep the bills paid.
When you’d started, it was out of desperation. You had needed to make money, and quickly. Your mother kicked you out due to a dispute —getting by was a struggle. At first, you had gotten a regular job at a coffee shop. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close.
Then a friend had suggested camming. At first, you’d been horrified by the idea. Sitting in front of a camera, doing… that? It felt disgusting, degrading. But after months of struggling, you’d caved. What was supposed to be a temporary fix had become part of your routine. Log in, entertain, log off. Now, it was less of a thrill and more of a chore. You hated to admit it, but it paid better than any job you could have found as a student.
Pushing those thoughts aside you tried to pay attention to professor Alhaitham but you ended up doodling inside your book and also ended up writing a grocery list.
Finally, the lights flickered back on as the lecture ended, and Professor Alhaitham’s voice broke the silence once more. "Chapters two through four by next week. We’ll see who’s keeping up."
He snapped his laptop shut, a final punctuation mark to the end of the lecture, and students began packing their bags. You sighed, stuffing your own notes away as you slung your bag over your shoulder, the door creaked open behind you.
“Hey, wait up!” Layla’s voice pierced through your haze.
You turned to see her weaving through the chairs, looking equally disheveled but far less bothered. She caught up to you with an apologetic grin, her messy hair bouncing with each step. “You okay? You looked pretty rattled back there.”
You huffed, running a hand through your own hair. “I was late. Professor Alhaitham made sure everyone knew. God, what a prick.”
Layla snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Oh no. What did he say? I was kind of zoned out”
“Something about ‘dedication’ and ‘showing up halfway through.’ Like he’s never been late to anything in his entire life.”
Layla chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, that guy is an enigma. Alot of people dislike him for the way he behaves, but alot of people are desperate to be in his class.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“He’s a genius, obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But it’s more than that. There’s something about him. He doesn’t care what people think, and he never panders. Some people like that kind of honesty.”
"Honesty, my ass. He’s just an asshole."
Layla laughed, nudging your arm. "Maybe, but also I've heard some people have joined his class just because of how hot he is, a bit ridiculous I do say." she says as a yawn escapes past her parted lips, her head gently resting against your shoulder as she tries to fight off fatigue.
You glanced back toward the front of the lecture hall. Alhaitham was still there, gathering his things with calm efficiency, his sharp features illuminated by the faint sunlight streaming in through the tall windows. His movements were deliberate, controlled, like everything in his world followed some intricate set of rules only he understood. You hated how Layla had a point. He was good-looking, in a detached, untouchable kind of way.
You noticed Layla almost falling off to sleep on your shoulder so you gently poked her nose causing her to wake up in shock.
"I think you need to lay off those thesis papers for awhile and get a good sleep" you said to her as she mumbles something and pouts.
You and Layla left the hall, your thoughts drifted again to the complicated web of your life outside these walls. The nights spent streaming, the chat boxes filled with faceless usernames, the anonymous attention that came with your side job. You pushed it to the back of your mind—this wasn’t the time. But still, that strange double life you led lingered like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake.
You slipped back into the comfort of your cluttered apartment, the memory of his sharp words lingered.
When you finally made it back to your apartment, the weight of the day clung to your shoulders. Dropping your bag by the door, you let out a heavy sigh and kicked off your shoes, the soft thud of them hitting the floor echoing in the quiet space. It had been a long day—longer than you expected.
You shuffled into the kitchen, deciding to fix yourself something simple. Your fridge wasn’t exactly stocked, but you managed to throw together a sandwich, something to take the edge off your hunger. As you ate, your thoughts wandered to your schedule for the evening, how it always followed the same routine, a strange comfort in the predictability of it.
After a quick meal, you headed into the bathroom. The warm water of the shower washed away the lingering stress of the day, soothing your muscles and easing your mind, if only for a little while. You stayed under the spray longer than necessary, letting the steam fill the room as you tried to clear your head.
But in the back of your mind, you knew what was coming. Once the clock hit nine, you would become someone else—someone confident, mysterious, and unattainable.
Toweling off, you took your time getting dressed, slipping into some comfortable clothes for the moment. You still had some work to finish before the night began.
As you sat at your desk, staring at the open notes on your laptop, your mind started drifting again. It wasn’t just the lingering tension from class that tugged at your thoughts. There was the constant reminder of why you were doing all of this in the first place.
Your mum hadn’t spoken to you in months, ever since she cut you off financially. Her voice echoed in your head, that final conversation where she’d made it clear—you were on your own. You weren’t doing things her way, and so she wasn’t going to help you anymore.
It had been hard to accept at first. The distance between you, the harshness of her words. But you had no choice now. You had to make things work, no matter what.
That was why you found yourself here, every night, doing things you never thought you’d do. Because you had to survive. This was the only way to keep your apartment, to stay in college. And you couldn’t afford to fail—not now, not with everything at stake.
Your eyes scrunched as you diverted your attention from those stressful thoughts to your notes, a few minutes past as you scrolled through the pages as the hours passed and the sky outside darkened, you checked the time. 8:45. Almost time.
You stood up, crossing the room to your closet. Opening the door, you rifled through the few pieces hanging there before finding what you were looking for—a delicate baby pink lingerie set. The fabric was soft, a stark contrast to the role you were about to step into.
Changing quickly, you adjusted the straps in front of the mirror, checking yourself from different angles. You pulled your hair up into a neat ponytail, a subtle touch that helped keep the two sides of your life separate. The girl in the mirror was confident, poised, ready to perform.
But it wasn’t quite 9:00 yet.
You walked over to your laptop and started setting up, adjusting the angle of your webcam, ensuring that it captured your body
By the time the platform loaded, it was exactly 9:00. Notifications immediately began popping up on your screen as you entered the chat. Regulars and new subscribers alike greeted you, their excitement palpable.
They asked about your day, how have you been as the night played out. After idle chatter with your subscribers, it was finally time for what they actually wanted to see.
The highest bidder requested you to use your pink dildo vibrator. A small smile graced your lips. "As you wish, master" you murmured, pulling out the vibrator. Your eyes darted to the chat window, scanning for familiar usernames, but a disappointed pout formed as you noticed he hadn't joined yet. 'He didn't join yet,' you thought, your mood dampening. The chat flared up with messages as viewers noticed your sulky expression.
You quickly plastered on a smile, bringing the dildo close to the camera, then to your face, smiling seductively.
"So, what do you want me to do first?" The next few minutes blurred into a haze of overstimulation. The bluetooth vibrator buzzed inside you, your fingers rubbing against your pussy lips as shudders coursed through you.
Your clit trembled with the constant intensity, and your body gleamed with a sheen of sweat. Your baby pink lingerie clung to your body as your hand found your nipple, pinching and playing until you came again.
The viewers paid extra to speed up the device, pushing you further and further.
Eyes fluttering open briefly, you scanned the chats again.
Your heart skipped a beat when a familiar username appeared User1102. Your thighs trembled as the vibrator reached its highest speed, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came, making a mess along your legs and lingerie. Breathing erratic, vision blurred, you were practically limp from the overstimulation.
User1102: Bunny... take a break. The chat was filled with other messages, people tipping for extra time or requesting private sessions. But your attention was glued to his message.
User1102: I'do like a private session.
[User1102 tipped $100!]
A soft smile formed on your lips despite your exhaustion. The other subscribers seemed annoyed, trying to out-tip him, but you already knew your choice.
"I'm super tired right now, so I'm only taking one private session! Thank you, guys, see you next week Tuesday~" You threw in a small finger heart, trying to ignore the love confessions and anger from you ending your live so soon.
After ending the public live stream, your heart raced as you adjusted your hair and lingerie, sending a private request to User1102. The request was accepted, and your body appeared on screen.
You smiled, head tilted slightly. "Hi, what can Ms. Bunny do for you tonight?" you asked, your voice low and sultry, though your heart pounded with nerves. You couldn’t stop the thoughts from racing in your head.
Why do I always get so excited for this particular subscriber? Why does he make my heart race faster and my cheeks flush pink?
The first time User1102 appeared in your live stream, someone had requested you to overstimulate yourself to the point of discomfort. Eyes glazed with tears, you tried to push through the discomfort, but your mind kept wandering. Rent was due, and the $400 being offered was something you couldn’t turn down. But you felt pathetic, disgusted even, for putting yourself through that pain.
That was when User1102 first message caught your attention.
User1102: Stop what you're doing. You're clearly uncomfortable.
The original requester got angry, but then
User1102: tipped $400.
User1102: End the live. I'd like a private session with you.
[User1102 tipped $200]
Your movements had stopped, stunned by the sudden change. The other subscribers were furious, but you nervously smiled and ended the stream. His private session that night had been different from any other. No requests for anything sexual just for you to drink water and change into something comfortable. He'd only stayed for a few minutes to make sure you felt better, then sent a simple message before leaving.
'Don't do things you feel uncomfortable doing.'
You were utterly confused, could the person have been someone who has mistakenly tumbled upon your stream from an ad?
You had'nt expected to see him again, but he came back for the next session. And the one after that. And eventually, you started looking forward to his presence, even if you didn't know what he looked like. --- You let out a soft sigh, your fingers shaking slightly as you adjusted your lingerie on screen.
User1102 message popped up again.
User1102 : are you okay bunny to do something small for me ?
You quickly nod your head eagerly, already ready to do whatever he asked (as long as it wasn't some weird ass kink).
User1102: okay, Bunny, grab the dildo you used earlier.
Your eyes widened slightly at the straightforward request. Hesitantly, you reached for the pink dildo that was still slick from earlier. You toyed with it in your hands for a moment, waiting for his next command.
User1102: Spit on it.
You froze for a second, processing his request. Sure, you'd done things like that before, but it was unexpected from him. Still, you complied.
Leaning forward, you let your saliva drip onto the tip of the dildo.
User1102: Now, Bunny, be a good girl and clean your mess up.
Your pussy throbbed at the words. Slowly, you began sucking at the dildo, cleaning off your spit with your tongue, trailing it down the length of the toy. As you worked, a notification flashed on the screen.
User1102: Play with yourself, Bunny.
Your hand left your breast, fingers finding your clit as you jolted on the bed. The added stimulation forced a moan out of you, louder than you'd intended, but you couldn't stop.
User1102: You're so pretty, making a mess all over.
The tension in your stomach tightened, your vision blurring as you angled your fingers just right. The coil in your stomach snapped, your body was trembling as the final wave of pleasure hit you, vision blurring as you came undone. The clear liquid dripped down your thighs, making a mess of your lingerie and the sheets beneath you. You lay there panting, catching your breath, feeling the heat slowly dissipate from your body.
User1102: You were amazing. Good girl.
Those two words sent another shiver down your spine. Your heart fluttered at the praise, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out of your mouth, genuine and raw: "Anything for you..." Your cheeks flushed red immediately after.
You couldn’t believe you had said that out loud. Your mind was in a haze, the warmth of the afterglow still lingering, but a strange conflict bubbled up inside you.
A small part of you, buried deep down, wanted to scream at yourself for how you felt about this man, a random stranger hidden behind a username. It was foolish to feel like this. A ridiculous crush, on someone who could very well be as old as your father. You closed your eyes for a second, lost in your thoughts, but his next message broke through.
User1102: go clean up, just take it easy when you do so. maybe run a hot shower or bath to relax your muscles. you did really good today.
User1102: Rest now. Goodnight, Bunny.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. There was something so caring, so comforting about how he ended things.
He didn’t push for more, didn’t ask for anything beyond what you were comfortable with.
"Good night" you said sweetly, your eyes widening at the 400$ tip he left as he logs off. At this point you should just do private sessions with the amount of money he spends on you.
As the session ended, the room fell into a heavy silence. The screen of your laptop went dark, leaving you in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You let out a tired sigh, rolling onto your back. It was late, and exhaustion was starting to weigh you down. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but instead, you noticed a notification from your email.
A familiar name caught your eye. Professor Alhaitham. The email had been sent before you even started your session. You clicked it open and skimmed through it, rolling your eyes the moment you saw what it was about: a pop quiz.
"Ugh, that asshole" you muttered under your breath, tossing the phone aside. The last thing you needed was a quiz first thing in the morning. And of course, he just had to schedule it for 8 AM. You groaned in frustration. Now, you'd definitely need a good night's rest.
You’d barely slept the night before, and it showed. Your body still ached from the public and private session you’d done, and your limbs felt heavy as you dragged yourself through the hall. Luckily you had awoken around 5:30 am and was at campus around 7. You still had a few more minutes to spare until your first lecture and the dreaded pop quiz.
You knew shit cause you didn't revise saying that you would do it in the morning. Well that was a lie.
'I'll just wing it' you thought as you walked into the café to grab some coffee. The café’s comforting warmth felt like a small refuge. You needed caffeine, something to drag you out of this groggy haze. The barista handed you the cup. The place was packed with students and lecturers as you squeezed through people. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed where you were going.
And that’s when you collided into something hard.
You walked right into a firm, solid chest. The impact sent a jolt through your body, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. The smell of something clean—like freshly washed linen, with the faintest hint of sandalwood—filled your senses, grounding you even as the embarrassment flooded your face. Your nose twitched from pain as you let out a small 'ow'.
You looked up, and your heart stuttered in your chest.
It was him.
The devil himself, the man who thought it would be great to have a pop quiz in the morning.
Professor Alhaitham.
Oh and also the man who had humiliated you in front of the entire class just yesterday, his words sharp and cutting as if you were some lazy student who had rolled out of bed with no care. And here you were, nearly doing the same thing. You opened your mouth to apologize, but then your eyes met his, and something inside you froze.
He stared at you with a wide-eyed look, his usual unbothered, calm demeanor completely gone. For a moment, his face seemed to soften, surprise mixing with something else you couldn’t place. His light turquoise eyes were framed by long lashes, and you were momentarily struck by how striking his gaze was. His lips parted, as if to say something, but no sound came out.
What was his problem?
You shifted awkwardly, your body still brushing against his, and suddenly you became hyper-aware of how close you were. His chest was firm beneath his clothes, his body warm, and for a brief moment, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath. His presence felt… overwhelming. The scent of him, the way his tall frame seemed to block out everything else.
And yet, there was something off. His reaction wasn’t what you’d expect from someone as stoic and composed as he had seemed in class. His eyes flickered with recognition—like he’d seen you somewhere before. But how could that be?
Before you could piece together what was happening, his eyes darted away, the strange look quickly masked by his usual indifference. He straightened, but his hands twitched, as if he were unsure of what to do with them.
You blinked, quickly stepping back, trying to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, barely able to look at him. You felt like your face was on fire, and all you wanted to do was escape the situation.
He said nothing at first, still staring at you with that strange intensity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he murmured, his voice deeper than you remembered from class. But there was something in his tone, something that almost felt… uncertain.
You mumbled another apology, your heart racing, and without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and rushed out of the café, the sound of your pounding footsteps drowning out the whirlwind of confusion in your head.
What the hell was that? You couldn’t shake the strange feeling his reaction had left you with. Was it embarrassment from the way he had insulted you in class? No—this was different. The way he looked at you wasn’t just surprise. There was something else in his eyes.
You shoved the thought out of your mind. It didn’t matter. He was just your professor, and you had to keep it that way, no matter how weird things got. Your eyes brighten when you noticed you didn't spill your coffee as you hurried down the cafe and took a right turn towards the lecture hall that Professor Al haitham's lecture will be held.
Unaware of the turmoil you had just left behind, Alhaitham stood frozen in place. His hands were still shaking, heart hammering in his chest, and he couldn’t stop replaying the moment over in his mind.
It was you.
The cam girl. The one he’d been watching for weeks. The one he had subscribed to under an anonymous name, indulging in those private sessions like they were his guilty pleasure. He had never planned on it becoming more than a fleeting escape—a place where he could admire you from afar, behind the safety of his screen.
But now, standing there, his chest still tingling from where you had bumped into him, the reality hit him with terrifying force.
He knew your body, your voice, the way you moved in front of the camera. But you… you had no idea who he was. To you, he was just the arrogant professor who had mocked you in class.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
His pulse quickened, his mind racing through the implications. His favorite cam girl was now his student, and she didn’t even know.
part 2
#genshin x reader#alhaitham x female reader#al haitam x reader#genshin impact#genshin x you#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x reader smut#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x you#genshin impact alhaitham
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Anything jealousy related pls I just love it
inside jealousy 𐙚 - george clarke
thanks for the rq lovely! <3 my first ukyt fic :,)

summary: george clarke & reader are both on sidemen inside, and she gets a little bit jealous during one of the challenges.
contains established relationship + secret couple (mentions of spiders, cursing, reader is slightly anxious and non-confrontational). creds to @saradika-graphics for the divider! <3
george clarke x fem!reader ⏦゚♡︎
nobody knew about your relationship. nobody except for your closest friends, the sidemen included, but none of the other contestants, nor the viewers, had any idea.
the sidemen had made it their own personal challenge to you guys before you went in, testing to see if you could keep your secret amongst the tension. if you guys could successfully keep the secret, you'd earn an extra £50,000 for the prize fund, and if you couldn't, you'd lose the same amount.
it'd be tough, you knew that, but the two of you had agreed, eventually aiming to reveal your relationship to the internet soon enough anyway, so why not?
honestly, you didn't think you guys were the best secret keepers, but perhaps it hadn't even crossed the other guys' minds. no one questioned it when you two conveniently chose two beds next to each other, tucked away in the corner of the room, or when you slipped under his arm when passing the time in the living area of the house, cuddling up into his side on the sofa. you were just two best friends, for all they knew.
it was time for the first challenge of the week. you were spread around a table in a semi-circle, and simon flashed you a secret smile as you subtly slid in to sit next to george. tobi, ksi, and simon stood in the middle, and ksi's voice sliced through the tension.
"insiders, welcome to your first challenge, 'insider dating'."
everyone looked around in curiosity, and george met your eyes, his eyebrows slightly pinched.
simon explained the rules, and the challenge began.
cinna and pk went first, then jason and farah, and then it was your turn.
you were called up with whitney, feeling decently confident.
"alright, you are now free to open your menus." you did, and your heart dropped. spiders. "on the menu for you today is spider head."
whitney immediately freaked out, standing up and stepping away from the table with a repeated "no, no, no", and you sat there in shock, trying to mentally prepare yourself.
until they brought out the box of tarantulas.
the sidemen made her sit back down, and it was your turn first.
george watched from his seat, tensed up and chewing on his fingernail. he was stressed for you. he knew how much you hated spiders and tried his best to keep you calm, whilst simultaneously keeping your secret, as the spider was placed on your head.
"you can't see it, remember? you're good, you can't see it."
you screwed your eyes shut with a squeal and tried to focus on george's voice cutting through the others, every part of your body shaking.
"it's not that bad," whitney said, accidentally lengthening the amount of time you had to keep the spider on your head for. "it looks like a snowball—"
"ask the questions!" george's voice sliced through with a huff of forced laughter, almost desperately, as he came to defend you effortlessly. whitney screamed as a spider was placed down on the table, and george shouted again. "ask her the bloody questions!"
she somehow managed to force herself to chill, and finally asked the first question.
"what's your biggest red flag about yourself and why?"
your hand shook as you answered, your eyes still screwed shut as your voice came out rushed and desperate. "i'm anxious as fuck, i—ah!—i don't say anything if someone's upset me, cause i'm too much of a people pleaser—fuck! hurry, please, i swear!"
once your turn was over, you sat back down next to george and he subtly slipped his hand under the table, squeezing your knee gently. you let out a breath of relief, the adrenaline coursing through your body from just facing one of your biggest fears. he brought his other hand up to cover his mouth, trying to be as slick as possible, and gave you a quiet murmur of "good job, lovely. proud of you".
george was soon called up with mya, and you watched him intently, gaze burning into him as he received the electric shocks.
"if you had to snog, marry, and avoid three insiders, who would they be and why?"
you tensed, and clearly so did he. there wasn't really a way for him to answer this correctly, not with his girlfriend sat right there. but he had to. it was the game, and they had to keep the secret.
"um—" he hesitated and grimaced, another electric shock coursing through him, as he desperately tried to avoid it as best he could. "both genders?"
everyone broke into laughter, except for you, watching him intently and dreading his answer either way. he couldn't stall anymore, especially not with the electricity, and he reluctantly answered with a string of curses from the pain.
"shit—fuck!—marry y/n, snog cinna, avoid farah—sorry farah, you're quite loud—ah!"
you plastered on a smile, clapping away with the other players. you tried to laugh it off, you really did, but it wasn't nice hearing your boyfriend say he'd snog another girl in the room.
you weren't a jealous person, you really weren't. but keeping this secret, in a house half-full of other girls, had proven more difficult than you originally thought.
george had noticed you'd been tense for the rest of the day, and when you made some sort of excuse to head into bedroom, saying you wanted to take your makeup off, he followed you.
you sat down on the edge of your bed and he sat down on his next to you, facing you, and your knees touched. he turned his head to the door, double checking they had a quick moment alone before speaking.
"y/n/n?" he mumbled softly as he took both your hands in his.
you hummed in response, the sound gentle in the peace of the room compared to the noise outside. you knew you were being unreasonable, it was all part of the game, and the two of you knew you'd be facing challenges in that house.
"i'm sorry."
you felt a surge of guilt course through you at his words. you didn't want to make him feel guilty, you never would. george was perfect, and he'd never do anything to upset you intentionally. he had to do it.
"don't say sorry," you say gently, intertwining your fingers with his. "s'just not nice to hear, y'know? i don't want anyone thinking..."
you didn't finish your sentence. you didn't have to. george knew what you meant. he always did.
"i know," he reassured, giving your hands a soft squeeze. "but i had to say someone else, you know? i want this money. for you. for us." and then a beat. "you know you're the only girl i want to snog, right?"
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his words, and you nod your head as you whispered back, not wanting the others to hear from the other room. "i know. you can make it up to me when we're out of here, yeah?"
his lips tilted up in a slight smirk and he nodded his head slightly, his voice low in the peace of the room. "trust me, lovely. i'll prove it to you."
#george clarke#george clarkey#george clarkeey#george clarke x reader#george clarkey x reader#george clarkeey x reader#george clarke fanfic#george clarkey fanfic#george clarke fics#george clarke fluff#george clarke x fem!reader
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baby all mine


pairing: streamer!keeho x fem!reader
genre: smut ( 18+ ) ── 1.1k words
✎… established relationship, sub!reader, descriptions of jealousy, fingering, spanking, exhibitionism kink, praise kink, pet names
( p1h masterlist )
Keeho’s hand loosens up the tie around his neck as he stares at the computer screen; the movement grabs everyone’s attention with its frustration as he pulls and tugs roughly.
The bright light of the monitor is picking up on every small twitch of his sharp facial features, but that only emphasises their attractiveness.
“I swear to god…” He leans back in his chair, emitting a sigh. His right leg is bouncing up and down under the desk - another sign that he’s slowly loosing patience. “Quit talking about my girl y’all, it’s not cool! I can see the comments, you know?”
The corner of his mouth slides upwards; a forceful, crooked smile which is quite different than his usual expressions during his streams.
Despite his complaint, the comments continue to pile up.
show her to us bro
i bet she’s hot af
if i were you i wouldn’t be here rn
“Nah, forget about it,” he scoffs, “that’s not happening.”
we saw her ass once let us see the rest
didn’t she show it off on purpose anyways ???
she wants to be seen
… and after that comment, he starts noticing it too.
You don’t dislike the attention from the viewers.
You keep bringing him snacks and drinks, during the hours of his streams, knowing the camera is going to catch your swaying hips, your seductive thighs, exposed from the white little shorts that you seem to not mind walking around in his room. The mic always picks up on your gentle voice, leaving the people wanting more.
It’s almost like you’re having some sort of a secret game with them and he’s the one left out.
“Your viewers really like me.”
Keeho shoots you a quick glance. You’re leaning against his desk, dressed in one of his shirts. He doesn’t need to look at the comments section to know they’re blowing up with questions about you.
He proceeds with the game without giving you a response, but the way you step closer distracts him; clicking the keyboard becomes more and more difficult.
Your back is now captured from the camera; your bare thighs are on display. One careless move and Keeho’s shirt will expose your panties to everyone.
His eyes accidentally peek at the comments and his blood starts to boil.
“They like your ass.” His big hand lands with a smack on your butt cheek.
It feels good - showing people that he can do that, while the only thing they can do, is jerk off pathetically to the thought of you.
“They want me.” You speak out more clearly. Emphasising the facts.
You lift one leg and swiftly straddle your boyfriend’s lap. His chair moves backwards a bit as his hands leave the keyboard to get a hold of your hips.
The surprise on his face is apparent, but it quickly melts away after you kiss him. You humm from the pleasant dancing of his lips as they start leading yours with ease; his fingertips gripping the sides of your body with growing eagerness.
When you break the moment, you peer into his eyes. They’re still gazing at your lips and even your next words can’t shift them away.
“Show them who I belong to.” You place a wet kiss under his earlobe, feeling him get harder beneath your panties. Each word you say is a new wave of adrenaline rush that floods his veins. “You owe me, baby.”
Keeho’s fingers fidget with the shirt, dragging it slowly up your waist to expose more of your skin to the camera; more of the pink lace of your underwear.
“I do,” he breathes out. “I do.”
The number of viewers watching grows bigger with each minute, but only Keeho can see that, because he’s standing next to the gaming chair while you obediently kneel in it, being streched out by his long fingers. He doesn’t need to move them too quickly nor insistently to prove how wet you are; you’re drenched, and the slow gliding is enough to produce lewd sounds that reach the audience just fine.
“Goddamn it, baby,” he pulls them out once again, slapping one of your cheeks; your ass is on full display, showing off his handprints in a mellow shade of pink as his shirt is scrunched up at your waist. “You’re soaking wet for everyone to see.”
He swipes through your puffy folds with two fingers to collect from your essence, then sucks on them, savouring the sweet taste.
“Looks like my pretty girl likes showing off her pretty pussy, huh?”
You mumble in agreement as Keeho spreads you out nicely with his big hands, allowing the people to see you in all your glory. The arousal is glistening, gushing out of you as your desires grow every time he touches you.
You wonder how many people are touching themselves to you right now; do they want to see you cum, and do they wish they could see your boyfriend fill you up?
“All mine.”
He shoves his fingers inside you again, curling them more harshly this time. Your voice cracks in the middle of your moans when he begins to thrust them in a wild possessive speed, causing your arousal to drip down your inner thighs.
“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck, baby… so good—“ you babble uncontrollably with a fragile voice.
The slamming of his hand causes your cheeks to jiggle in front of his eyes, simultaneously filling the room with lewd sounds of skin clashing against skin, in addition to the wet noises already erupting from you.
At first, Keeho thought he wouldn’t be able to listen to you knowing there are hundreds of other people hearing your moans too, but since the moment you opened your legs for him, he hasn’t thought about those people even once.
Your sounds are still just for his ears only.
You’re seconds away from cumming for him. Your voice is moaning his name, and your walls are pulsing for his touch.
“Ah, ‘m gonna—“ your jaw falls open for a silent scream that puts an end to your incoherent sentences.
The sensation has you barely holding onto the back of the chair. Your thighs shake, your voice too, as you whine from Keeho’s fingertips pushing against your g-spot with full force till your climax fades down.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty…” Keeho mutters under his breath. His hard cock has been putting pressure on him for a while now; it starts to become unbearable, and it’s showing in his heavy breathing. “The prettiest girl with the most perfect pussy.”
He empties your walls, and you gasp from the feeling.
“It’s made for me,” he observes carefully how you clench from the absence of his hand; how a string of your juices is attached to his fingers until he breaks it by licking it off.
He groans in delight meanwhile your mouth waters at the sight of the tent in his pants.
“Baby, I need you.” Your one hand reaches to caress his bulge, but even your palm squeezing his dick doesn’t affect him as your doe eyes glowing with yearning do.
Sensing that Keeho’s leaning over his desk, you still in one place - you prefer to keep your face private and wait for him to give you a signal.
“The show is over, perverts.”
! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed
#joocomics.p1h#p1harmony hard thoughts#p1harmony hard hours#p1harmony smut#p1harmony x reader#p1h hard thoughts#keeho hard thoughts#keeho smut#keeho x reader#p1h smut#p1h x reader#piwon smut#piwon x reader
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streamer max - Max Verstappen
Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smutish, Teasing Max is live when you decide to have a little fun in the chat x word count: 1420+ taglist: @game-set-canet gif by me open for requests :)
The dim glow of your phone screen illuminates your determined expression as you create the mysterious alter ego, "goldenbooty1." It is an alias embedded with memories and an inside joke that only your boyfriend, the avid racer and streamer Max Verstappen, would comprehend.
You called him that the first time you saw him in his dark blue racing suit, accentuating his form perfectly. Since he is wearing his golden boots a lot, you combine the two and choose a similar image as your icon.
As you watch his racing stream unfold, headphones plugged in, your fingers dance across the touch screen, ready to inject a playful touch into the chat. The adrenaline rush of orchestrating this secret banter heightens your excitement. Max is in the midst of a high-speed race, navigating through virtual landscapes with finesse.
Then, he loses his rear for just a second, catching himself right after. Yet, you can't help yourself. Rubbing your back against the sofa cushions behind you, you bite your lower lip.
"Got your rear under control, huh?" You type, the message blending seamlessly with the scrolling comments. The chat erupts with laughter, and you can't help but smirk, knowing you have inserted yourself into the stream under the radar.
Max glances at the comment, his eyebrows furrowing in amusement. The connection between the words and your username must have given it away, but you cannot tell. He might have seen another comment.
But then Max licks his lips. Undeterred, he responds, "I'm always in control, goldenbooty." His rough voice echoes through your headphones, sending shivers down your spine.
His virtual car speeds on, leaving a trail of digital dust behind. A few people reply to you, most of them trying to get in on the joke, but it means much more to Max coming from you.
You continue to sprinkle comments, each one a carefully crafted blend of teasing and familiarity. The banter unfolds like a well-rehearsed dance, your connection growing stronger with every exchange.
"You're a naughty one, aren't you, booty?" He looks right into the camera, slightly biting his lower lip as he tries to hide the smirk spreading across his lips.
The chat erupts with emotes and laughter, mirroring the amusement you could almost picture on his face. Even though Max tries to stay cool and not show too many emotions, the light in his eyes makes it easy for you to tell he's enjoying it all.
You know, however, that he's just waiting for the race to end. Just by the way he's looking at the screen, the sly smirk, and the narrow eyes, he's contemplating how to get back at you.
"Don't tell me you don't like it rough, Max." You type quickly, followed by, "I mean racing, of course." The smirk on your face widens, and you hold back your laughter.
Max's eyes sparkle slightly before he tilts his head, unable to stop himself from smiling brightly.
"Of course, racing." He lifts his eyebrows, emphasizing 'racing', with his voice a little deeper than usual.
Your chest tingles as you get goosebumps, and all the other viewers in the chat add an element of thrill to your playful interaction.
Max crosses the finish line shortly after, finishing first. As he leans back against his chair, he strokes his chest gently, the sly smirk still present.
"That was fun." He says, looking right at you through the screen, licking his lips quickly.
As you watch him reply to a few other people in chat, you try to come up with another sassy line, but then, "Okay guys, give me a moment. Alright?" Max nods and turns the camera off.
Adrenaline rushes through your entire body. Your heart pounds heavily, anticipating him to confront you.
Before you can hide any evidence, you turn your head toward the door and find Max casually leaning against the doorframe. He watches you with an amused glint in his eyes.
You attempt to maintain an air of innocence, but he could read you like an open book. "Already done streaming?" You ask him, showing off your best poker face, but it isn't really effective.
"I'm just taking a short break." Max tilts his head, his voice carrying a mixture of playfulness and curiosity.
Nodding, you lock your phone and pull your headphones out, putting them away. He then approaches you confidently, wearing a tight Redbull shirt and shorts that accentuate his athletic build. You can't help but be captivated by how good he looks.
He runs a hand through his messy hair and across his chest again before he stands right next to you, tilting his head. "So, goldenbooty1, any idea who that might be?" Max asks, obviously knowing the answer already.
You feign ignorance, avoiding his gaze, but the mischief in his eyes hints at his determination to uncover the truth.
Denying any involvement, you insist, "No clue; a nice username though." However, your attempt at evasion only fuels his certainty.
With a knowing smirk, he closes the distance between the two of you. Suddenly, he starts to tickle you, knowing all your most sensitive spots.
His fingers lightly trace along your sides, sending shivers down your spine.
"Come on, spill the beans; I can tell when you're hiding something," he teases, his touch becoming more insistent. You try to suppress a laugh, but his expert tickling technique proves too effective. To make matters worse, Max climbs on to the sofa, pinning you down.
Laughter bubbles up as you squirm, trying to evade his fingers dancing all over your body.
"Okay, okay, it's me! I couldn't resist teasing you a bit," you admit between giggles. His triumphant grin signals that he has achieved his goal.
With his face hovering over yours, you try to catch your breath when he leans in, kissing you lovingly.
"Mhmm." You breathe into him, embracing his mouth on yours in an instant.
"I really love that username," Max purrs into you as his body grinds on yours.
Tilting your head to breathe, you expose your neck, inviting him to place kisses all over it.
"I hoped you'd know it's me." You hold back a low moan when his warm breath and soft lips touch your skin again and again.
Lifting your arms, you grab his waist before tracing his waistline right to his butt. His shorts are barely able to contain him, so you touch him, holding him close.
"Fuck!" Max chuckles, seemingly enjoying your firm touch. Then, he grinds his crotch against your thighs, letting you feel the desire building up inside his body throughout the last thirty minutes.
"You make me so hard," he growls deeply, breathing down your neck.
"Max," you hug him, stroking the small of his back before your hands slide underneath his shirt.
His body is tensing more and more, and you keep stroking him lovingly. Running your hands across his body, you reach his chest, and his muscles react to the slightest touch of your fingertips.
"So, naughty." He leans his head back, making it easier for you to touch his chest.
Both of you are out of breath, getting more and more into it.
At last, you run a hand down his chest, right to the bulge forming inside his shorts.
As you touch him, he bites his lower lip, looking at you with a fiery spark inside his beautiful eyes.
"Will you keep watching the stream?" He grunts, bending down once more to kiss you again.
"If you want me too?" You smile, touching him again, enjoying the effect you have on him.
"Hope you enjoy the show." Max smirks before he gets off the sofa, fixing his clothes with a casual yet deliberate motion. You seize the opportunity to have another good look at him: he runs his hands across his chest, shorts, and through his hair, letting out a low guttural moan.
Hearing his voice sends shivers down your back, causing you to giggle quietly.
He then winks, turning around and returning to his room. The way he carries himself exudes confidence, and you can't help but appreciate the subtle ca´harm in the way he moves. His athletic build and tense muscles are accentuated by the snug fit of his shirt and shorts, leaving an indelible impression.
You pick up the phone and plug the headphones back in, just in time for the camera to come back to life. Max licks his lower lip, raising an eyebrow.
"I hope you're ready for another round." He smiles, and you enjoy the rest of the stream.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen smut#Max verstappen fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fanfic
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needed me
Pairing-Myunggi x fem’reader/brief namgyu x fem’reader warning-substance use.+18.language.breeding kink Your name was known around the city for being a pornstar,as for a curvy body,ethereal features,and puppy face.That sweet facade was carefully constructed—pure illusion hiding something darker.Your act was deeply displayed on a video screen while being watched by millions.Viewers offered monetary tips in exchange for sexually suggestive content during the live chat
what they didn’t know is that you could see their government name.Those worth less misogynistic men begging for lewd.It put disgust on your face,Your face scrunched,Disgust rippled through your face, tightening your mouth and wrinkling your nose.before you got on a skintight lingerie was waiting as you slipped it on with latex.rose lace lined strapping covered with a sweater and sweatpants you clicked the button as the stream light up.
Caption -Each 26,987 won sent I take off a piece of clothing.
The stream had 40k viewers, all locked in, faces glued to their screens as time dragged on. A few minutes passed, then the first $20 popped up in the chat, followed by $100—more and more, like they were waiting for something to happen. ‘Are you guys ready?’ The words dripped from your lips, low and teasing.
The chat flooded with your face and hearts, a cascade of pixels as clothes slid off like frozen layers, leaving nothing but bare skin beneath.Money was all you wanted all you needed
Living in riches and wealth you were stuck in a house never wanted to leave your comfort spot.You felt wanted for once that’s why you did it though guilt hit like a river did you really wanna do this?
I mean you couldn’t go back now everyone had already known your soul,body,and face your skin exposed around the world.In the industry for the big dollar checks that pilled easily like water.
That was until, one day, your phone buzzed—a notification flashing across the screen.
Amount withdrawn-70,729,360 won from yesterday at 11:34 pm
Staring at the screen, your heart dropped. 418,935 won. That’s all that was left.your mind raced, trying to make sense of it. “How could this happen? I’d just checked last week, and everything seemed fine!”My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the transaction history, hoping it was some mistake, some glitch. But no, there it was—several large, unfamiliar withdrawals. How could someone do this to me?
I went to message and a immediately texted my bestfriend
You-Met me at the station we need to talk about something important
Han-Why what happened?
You-please met me at —— station.Can you do that for me?
han-Alright but give me five minutes.Ill be there soon.
I quickly tapped the screen to close the banking app, my hands still unsteady. The weight of what I'd seen felt like a lead weight pressing against my chest. My thoughts spiraled, each more unsettling than the last. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the person responsible might not be a stranger.You grabbed your handbag and headed straight to the door forcefully opening it then ran to the car as your mind was rushing with adrenaline.
You possibly lost everything that money left wasn’t enough to pay off your rent,or expenses.On the road your phone spammed with messages from Ye Joon.You just kept speeding to the station as you parked near by it.
You came here because your friend lived nearby he was only a mile away but you rather be here comforted by the people passing by.As the wind blew into the open station of deagu an unfamiliar presence was near.As someone sat next to you in the station.
A man who had a suitcase sitting on his lap,His dark features and sinister appearance. “Wanna play a game.”He said as he smiled.A wash of curiosity hit along with an eerie felling sensation. “Uh,Is there a reward for it?”You felt bad but in your now state something needed to be given. “Yes,money but you give me something in return if you fail.”He looked at you still holding his smile.
Like what?” you asked, your voice sharp but uncertain.The response came slowly, deliberately—words heavy with implication.“Your body.”The phrase brushed past you like a cold wind,You barely had time to process it before the next line followed“You’re gonna have to pay for that, you know.”it tension between you guys was awkward and silent “I mean I get to slap you.”He looked at you questionably “oh,okay then let’s start!”
A few rounds of ddakji had already been played, the sharp smack of paper hitting the ground filling the air. You'd only managed to win twice As he took victory you closed your eyes waiting for a hit to land on your face.
”here.”You have you a business card that had 3 weird looking shape that caught your eye.Before you could thank him as you looked up he was already gone. “Weirdo.”
”Y/n!”You look straight to see your best friend run towards you. “So what happened,I’ve been texting you….”He gave you an annoying look as he crossed his arms “So..?”The look of embarrassment washed over you
“So…um someone broke into my account and took thousands of dollars.”His expression changed as his brows raised with a worried look “Did you call the bank?Hello,why are you just standing there!?”He yelled at you for not immediately canceling your card and calling corporate.
“I can’t just call them—my account’s illegally registered, remember?” you snapped, irritation flickering across your face. “If I do, I could be arrested for fraud.”He didn’t respond—didn’t need to. He already knew all of this. That’s what made it worse. The look on your face said it all he eyed you down for a second “right..”
He changed the topic and asked if you wanted to go out to get something to eat to smooth your mind. “No thanks.”You left to go get inside your car as you went home thoughts started flooding your mind.That guy with the suitcase why did he come up to you.
That’s how you ended up here as the doors opened to reveal a room that was filled with bunk bed with levels of stairs.A 2 bathrooms that spilt up the boys and girl.
You walked away from everyone to find your own spot in the back.The room had lit up with a screen that display people’s faces and their debt you felt your heart in your stomach as that familiar face came on it was you.
Y/n-Owes 40,805,400 won
Great now people knew you were here the whisper filled the room as you tried to hide from the crowd
soon shoved into a crowded room by a guard, the door slamming shut behind you. Hundreds of people filled the space, their eyes flicking toward you before quickly looking away. The air was thick with tension, heavy and suffocating.As everyone was waiting in line to get there picture taken the uneasy feeling hit you.
“Everyone, it’s Thanos the rapper!” a lanky boy shouted, his voice high with excitement as he rushed toward the so-called celebrity.
All eyes turned.
Standing at the center was a figure hard to miss—tall, confident, with wild, spiky purple hair that practically glowed under the harsh fluorescent lights. He barely reacted to the attention, used to the spotlight. But it wasn’t just him that drew stares.
Behind him stood another boy, shorter, with a sleek bob haircut and a twisted grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about him—something cruel just beneath the surface. While the crowd buzzed around Thanos, it was the boy behind him who watched in silence… and made your skin crawl.
They tried to take a picture together until the guard told them all off “one at a time.”The purple boy pushed everyone away as he posed for a picture so unserious as he looked silly. “What are you waiting for.”One of the guards looked at you waiting for you to move as you were stuck in a trance “I’m sorry,bitch”you mumble under your breathe so low they couldn’t hear as you walked in the booth and took your picture.
smile
Your face remind the same,no smile in sight though you walked to the door and waited as everyone finished their business.You were surprised no one recognizing your face due to the unwanted reputation you had around the world.You consciously stood behind going to avoid attention.As the doors creaked open, an elderly man suddenly bolted into the room, his face pale and drenched in sweat.
“Stop—everyone, don’t move!” he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency. “I’ve played these games before. If you move… you’ll die!”The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of his words sinking in like ice water. His eyes darted around, wild with fear—not just warning them, but begging them to listen.Everyone stopped as a doll like girl started singing as lights went red.
”don’t move.”he said worried until you shot was heard in the distance a girl was shot in the face as her blood dripped.A crowd starting moving as people were in a panic,adrenaline rush hit them.No one knew were to go but a lot were gunned down due to move.
In a state of shock and fear you didn’t move but listened closely to wait the man said as he continued on telling us the rules as we moved.
Your last step taken as you finished in time.The timer was rushing the elders as a man tripped a girl who was beauty and tall along with a big muscular saved him along with the elderly man who told the rules earlier.You stood infront of them as blood got on your face and clothes when they shot the man’s head.
A wave of fear and revulsion surged through you as you quickly wiped it off with the sleeve of your tracksuit. Your stomach churned at the sensation.The blood though stuck to your clothes as you looked at the girl and man as they got off.
We were all forced back into that room after seeing the death of people blood everywhere stuck in your vision.As everyone gathered a vote set was made.
Blue-stay Red-home
It wasn’t worth it—staying here, risking your life for money that was barely more than a distant, billion-to-one chance. You lowered your gaze as the others began to line up, the tension in the room thick and silent. Regret settled heavily in your chest. Around you, one by one, people pressed the bright button most of them choosing the same thing you wanted. To go home,escape,and survive.
number 190
that was you as your steps were heard across the room some people whispered and glared at you.Raising your hand to the red button as the guard gave you the sticker a wash of relief calm you down.As you watched everyone make their decision.
182/183
Blue had won. The cries of the red team echoed through the room—raw, broken, full of disbelief.
You didn’t cry, but the urge clawed at your throat. The weight of it all pressed down on you—the risk, the fear, the reality that your life was truly on the line in this place. And for a moment, you wondered if surviving was just another kind of losing.
Everyone dispersed to their place you felt eyes on you as you walked to your spot and sat down.observing people around someone did catch your attention.This boy with a lucky number 333 his face was emotionless as he eat his food not realizing someone watching.
He had delicate, almost feminine features—soft skin and large, doe-like eyes that blinked slowly as he ate, completely unaware of the danger creeping closer. There was an innocence to him, a quiet calm, But you weren’t the only one watching him.As you saw the purple boy and his partner follow behind.
I watched as the guy forcefully flipped his bento straight into his own face, rice and sauce splattering across his cheeks. Before he could even wipe it off, the bob-haired boy burst into laughter, his mockery sharp and theatrical.I got up and moved towards them before it got physical “Stop,why are you doing that.”I said as I blocked off the boy from the both of them.
"Wow, I never thought I'd see you in person," the purple-haired boy said, eyeing you with a lazy grin. "You look even better than you do on stream."
His smirk deepened, voice dropping into something more mocking."So tell me—do I get to fuck you for free , or is there a price tag?" he laughed, loud and shameless.Frustration built in you “I would rather fuck a dead animal than you.”He put his hand on his hips before he could say anything.
The guy he threw food on lashed out punching him But before he could land another hit, the other friend jumped in, and together they ganged up on him I didn’t know what to do but froze as they fought on the ground. “Stop it.”An old man jumped in with a serious expression. “Go home to your kids old man.”The purple boy said as he pointed away.Before he could get close the elderly man grabbed him making him plant on the ground.
His friend stopped and got up the fend for him but was also put down.You looked back at guy who had food on him and helped him up. “I’m really sorry about that.”You smiled gently at him.He looked up, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he stood. “No, it’s fine. Those guys are just assholes,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at them. I could feel the intensity of his hatred radiating off him, but I couldn’t help wondering—why did they provoke such a deep resentment in him? “What’s your name?”you asked “myung gi.”he had a big bruise on his face due to the fight “what about you.”He was still calm after that “it’s y/n.”
After that they both walked off giving a glare at us.I ignored it “Why do they hate you so much?”I questioned the curiosity of the situation waved me.He looked down and huffed maybe he didn’t feel comfortable saying “Oh,sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”you said a bit embarrassed “It’s not that,uh just I did a bad things to people.”He still didn’t look at me he just sat there. “It’s alright probably not as worst as my situation.”You tried to make him feel better.
“What about your situation?” He looked up, waiting for your lips to move you glanced around nervously, swallowing hard before finally admitting, “Well… uh, I’m a porn star.” The words hung in the air, making the moment instantly awkward.It took him a minute to process it he was trying not to seem rude “Is that what thanos was talking about?”He looked at you “Yeah,I’m guessing his ass is a fan.”I rolled my eyes and he laughed at it “He seems like a porn addict.Probably one of those weird guys.”He scoff and look down at his hand as he laid down.
“I mean you’re not disappointed?”He turned back “No,I’m guessing it was a survival tactic.”He was wrong but you went along with it “Yeah,I was just struggling in the moment…”You sat down on the bed next to his bed.“Do you know his other friend?” you asked cautiously. He paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as he searched his memory. “Yeah, I remember Namgyu,” he said slowly, his voice carrying a hint of distaste. That was the guy with the messy bob haircut—the one whose gaze always seemed to linger on you with quiet suspicion. There was something about him that didn’t sit right, a subtle but unmistakable tension whenever he was around.
I cut the conversation off and just laid on the bed with the covers over me.I faced away from him though I did feel a bit of comfort knowing someone didn’t make fun of you for your past.The lights out as the room was cold and silent it was killing you.The needy feeling of leaving this place felt far.As you closed your eyes to sleep
lights on
You woke with a start as someone shook you gently.“M—what?” you murmured, still groggy. “It’s time for the new challenge.”You rolled over and look up to see myung gi hovering over you. “Do you know the challenge?”You stared at him “No,but I heard from a guy it was shape something like that.”He backed up as you pushed off the cover from you.
Then a bunch of guards came to escort you guys to the new room.The walk was long but once you came in a room filled with rainbow was shown “that’s cute.”said softly as you looked around. A speaker came on reading you the instructions on how to play.6 players needed for the game.You and myung gi both teamed up together along a few people.
As the rounds went on you saw this girl who was in a team full of boys.She held her stomach as she walked.You wonder if she was pregnant the sadness of the situation,being here carrying human life. “I feel bad for her.”You look at myung gi he didn’t say anything his face was stone cold. “Is something wrong?”he stood still and quiet “Yea..”He looked away from the crowd “okay?”You knew something bugged him was it that girl?Did he want her or something happened between them.
You guys were next as the game went on the finish line was near as you finished your part.The timer a lot hitting its end when you guys passed.You were thrilled to see another day, but the moment Myung Gi ran up and wrapped his arms around you was something entirely new. It was the very first time you felt his touch—a physical connection that had never happened before. For some reason, his embrace felt comforting, warm, and unexpectedly good. His arms tightened gently around your waist, anchoring you in that simple yet profound hug.
”we did it.”You smiled as your eyes stared in his soul his face soften as he let go of you.Then walked out together going into your spot.The room was quiet as you walked with him you noticed the girl again she stared at both of you then looked away when you took notice.
The curiosity of you was heavy because why was she looking and why didn’t he speak up about her?As you sat down you he said “I’ll be back I’m going to the restroom.”you didn’t look at him “alright..”you watched as he turned his back to walk away his presence getting distance.
Though another presence appeared it wasn’t myung gi”Bambi.”You recognize that it was your Internet name that you used to describe your government name.The name—blunt, explicit, like something torn straight from the front page of a porn site—sent a jolt of discomfort through you. It freaked you out, made your skin crawl. Your guard shot up instantly.
“What do you want?” you snapped, voice sharp with anger, the words cutting through the tension like a blade.Then came the presence of Namgyu — calm, almost too calm."Is it a crime I just wanted to see you," he said smoothly, his voice low and deliberate, each word pulling you in like a slow-moving current.He stepped closer,
the air around him shifting, heavy with something unspoken.
You took a small step back, eyes narrowing. "What are you really here for?"You already had a good idea. The look on his face wasn't one of innocence — it was laced with something darker. Sinister. Like he was enjoying a game only he understood."I mean, you are a porn star after all. Care for an exchange?" Namgyu said, his voice laced with a teasing edge.Your eyes narrowed. "What do you have to offer?" you shot back, your tone cold and unflinching.
You crossed your arms over your chest, your glare sharp and unwavering, daring him to answer. His smirk deepened “drugs.”He said waiting for my answer “I don’t know….”I mean come on you aren’t serious with anyone but myung gi would be upset seeing you with the guy he hatred.
Your just doing your job.Drugs were the only thing calming you down. “What kind?”your stare softened as his lips moved “Molly,maybe?there just colorful,dangerous drugs.” Time was running out.The words stuck to you “okay,but don’t tell anyone..”
Your finally decision as you walked picking up the paste into the girls restroom making sure no one saw you pull him in.Namgyu rushed you in to stall.
The humid air filled you both as you went it for a long kiss.He pulled in as his tongue was waiting for your entrance,Tongue tied together with heavy breathing.You unzipped your sweater.His breath hitched the moment your hands slid beneath his clothes, a low groan escaping before he could stop it. Heat flickered in his eyes, sharp and warning. When he reached behind you and unhooked your bra with practiced ease, he didn’t look away—he stared you down, jaw tense, gaze heavy with something between challenge and desire. It wasn’t a request. It was a silent dare.
Breast round and perky keeping him in a trance as he held you tight to were both of your bodies touched and submerged.His hands on your chest one stuck to your nipple as he played around with it.His mouth tongued the other.Your soft moans echoed as no one was here just empty filled with lust.
Your fingers slid beneath the waistband of his boxers, slow and deliberate, teasing over warm skin as you began to ease them down. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, breath catching in his throat as the fabric slipped lower, inch by inch.His cock was exposed the sexual tension made it swollen.
His back to the stall door as you went down slowly grabbing it and stroking it.His moans we’re quiet but the faster you went the louder they became.his hand now on your hair tightly as you opened your mouth on his cock. “Fuck—you slut.”
His hot dripping cum over your face.He looked down at you.Your face was covered with part of his body when you heard him breathe out, “hurry..” The word was strained, aching with need.
You lifted your head, meeting his eyes for a heartbeat before standing. Without breaking that gaze, you slipped out of your sweats, then slid your panties down, letting them fall to the floor.He grabbed your thigh lifting it on to his shoulder.Then entering his cock into your body as you felt the connection.
You sank down onto him slowly, drawing in a sharp breath as your bodies joined. The moment was more than physical—it was electric, intimate, like your souls were reaching for each other through the heat and tension. Every inch pulled you deeper into him, not just in body, but in something unspoken and real.
”namgyu—“He was rough but quick the wildiness in his thrust as he breathed.His hand on your face of your cheek he Caressed soften.The look in his eyes sent you away as the humid air filled you guys
The air in the room was thick with heat and want, every movement charged with unspoken need. Your bodies spoke louder than words—gripping, grinding, giving in. The rhythm built, deeper, harder, until your legs began to tremble beneath you, the overwhelming pleasure making it hard to breathe. You were completely lost in him, in the raw, consuming force of it all.
sexual satisfaction.
His body slowed down as his cum traveled to you.The liquid running out of you as he pulled out his cock was twitching and trembling.As you held your head back no words spoken the silence comsumed the both of you.
He gently lowered your leg, guiding you down onto him, but the hunger in his eyes hadn’t eased. His mouth still burned with need. Without a word, he dipped his head, lips trailing down until they found your skin again—hot, open, aching to taste more of you.His lip touched your pussy licking his semen from it.
His tongue pushed into you with purpose, and your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking him closer, deeper. He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core. The heat of his mouth sent shudders up your spine, pleasure blooming fast and sharp. When he looked up, his eyes were dark—blazing with lust—as he held your legs wide with both hands, keeping you open, exposed, and his.
Your thighs tigthen between him as he came to a stop.The other bathroom door opened as a girl entered.
Time hit you.How long has it Been?
myung gi.
Guilt hit you but the lust washed you the tension,sexual satisfaction,and sensation.You pulled away from Namgyu, both of you breathless, the weight of reality settling between the heat. His eyes met yours—knowing, reluctant. “Time’s up?” he asked with a crooked smirk, though his voice held a trace of something softer. You didn’t answer right away, just reached for your clothes, trying to ignore how his gaze still lingered like a touch.
As you pulled your sweater over you namgyu was already finished but now he had to leave somehow no one could notice you. “follow me when I say go.”he gave a glare “alright noona.”he chuckled as you rolled your eyes fun was over. You slipped out, eyes scanning the empty space—no one in sight. “Go,” you hissed, throwing the stall door open as he rushed out behind you. “Hurry up.” His voice was low, urgent, matching the pounding in your chest. He was moving fast, but so were you—every second stretched thin with adrenaline and need.
As the door opened you only saw the pregnant girl as she stared.Only she could see you and namgyu as you turned back to him.He already left over to his friends the relief washed over you.
You had to find myung gi as you walked around back to your spot.He had came out of the bathroom along with a group of guys.
”myung gi?”He was mad something was bugging him. “Yea?”He tried to stay calm as he knew not to worry you.
“What happened?” you didn’t ask—you demanded. If there was no communication, nothing would get done, and you both knew it. He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he slumped into the seat. “Just that purple freak,” he muttered, frustration edging his voice. His face was worn, eyes dim with exhaustion, like the weight of everything was finally starting to show. “Don’t let him get to you.Thats just stupid.”You scolded him to keep going if he gave up you would too. “If you do he because wins,physical and mentally.”you say next to him “I know.”He’s words are short and dumb.
You wish you could build a stronger bond with him but didn’t know how to start.Everytime something bad happened you guys ending up on square one again.
”what are you thinking about.”He saw you staring for awhile.As you looked away, your voice dropped, softer now. “You.” The single word hung between you, heavy and vulnerable. His eyes stayed locked on you, unmoving—like he was caught in the gravity of what you’d just said.“What about me?” he asked, his voice quiet, but laced with something deeper. Like he already knew the answer, but needed to hear it from you.
Nothing,” you said quickly, too quickly. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship over something that felt so small—so fragile when said out loud. Silence settled between you as you leaned back beside him, heart pounding.
But he didn’t buy it. Maybe it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear—because his eyes stayed on you, sharp and searching, and his voice cut through the quiet.“Don’t do that,” he said.He was pushing—not with anger, but with need. As if the silence itself hurt more than the truth would.
”I just think time is moving slow—so are we myung gi.”Your words hit him hard in his mind it meant something. “I—Yeah I think that too—but what do you mean?”He knew what you meant just asking dum so he could hear it from you.
”I like you myung gi.”The words slipped out before you could second-guess them, the drugs dulling your filter but not your feelings.“Your beauty is different from other so is your mindset—I like that.” Hes eyes widen as he tried to find words “[name] Do you know what you’re saying?”He questioned you before he could say his final words
”yes,myung gi.”time was running out the final decision needed to be made the final outcome. “I like you too,from the day I saw you.”He smiled as he looked at you “Are you sure?”
You were unsure about his statement “Are you sure you wanna be with someone like me?Does my job not bug you—“Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours—soft, sudden, silencing. The kiss was gentle but sure, cutting through the noise in your head. His mouth tasted warm, smooth, almost creamy, and everything about it felt like something you didn’t know you’d been craving until now.
You sank into his kiss, losing yourself in the way his lips moved with yours—slow, deep, and full of something real. The world faded, leaving only the heat between you. His hands, your breath, the press of your bodies—it all sparked with warmth that wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper, something undeniable. The love, unspoken but felt, burned quietly between every touch.
Before you guys could continue the light shut off scaring you out of the kiss. “S-Sorry—“your words suffering no one has made you feel this why not even namgyu.Myung gi was gentle while namgyu was rough.As you thought about you remembered the drugs you had from earlier. “Is something wrong?”Myung gi looked at you as you were stuck. “Yeah I’m just tired sorry.”You didn’t want it to end but you needed it too.
”just go to sleep.”He said what you liked was that he didn’t force himself on you.But what you didn’t knew was that you weren’t the only one getting pregnant by him.
He went to lay in his own bed next to you.It gave space between you as you waited the next night.
lights on
Another day this time you were awake earlier than him as he was still sleeping.His soft snoring being heard you didn’t wanna wait for him.But it gave you time to slip into your pockets as you took out a pill from namgyu.
You hesitated for a second, wondering just how bad it could really be. Curiosity—or maybe something deeper—pushed you forward. Your fingers closed around the pill, and without another thought, you slipped it past your lips. It hit your tongue, bitter and chalky,
before you swallowed it down, the weight of the choice settling in your chest just as fast.You sat down waiting for it to kick in as you saw myung gi roll over facing you
”wake up.”You said staying in the same place.He didn’t move not a muscle guess he was to out of it.You decided to sit next him “myung gi.”you keep repeating it. “yes—“He was not in the mood but the next game was starting “hurry up the game is starting.”That made him move as he understood the situation.
”I don’t wanna don’t this.”You said as you guys followed up the stairs “me nethier”myung gi groaned as the stairs felt like years.The guards took you to a room were a spinning cricle platform was placed.
You were all ordered to get on.You held myung gi hand as it moved. 4 players myungi took you along with 2 other people.As you guys had to wait in another room
A number was said that started the beginning of heat between you and another player was 6 players were called you had already been in the room as myung gi took 5 players
guessing by the situation myung gi looked a player out as she cried “unnie”The girl from earlier in the game ran to the door myungi stopped her. “This is your fault!”They started arguing.
You looked around at all the players faces to see her the pregnant girl but you guessed her name was Jun bee by what the others called her.She just avoided your glaze.
Then the doors unlocked as they left she bumped into giving him a death stare.
Myung gi was just silent as you both left the tension was awkward as he was probably embarrassed from the situation.You didn’t talked as the silent was both consuming you.
You waited for him to say something—anything—as the two of you walked in silence toward the beds. Finally, he spoke, voice low and uncertain.
“I’m sorry… about that.”
It was the only thing he managed to say.You didn’t look at him not only that but the drugs made you emotional and opening. “who’s she?”you said trying to stay woke.As your body felt slow it was hiting deep your breathe was picking up fast as you waited “who.”He looked at you acting dumb.That angered you you couldn’t control your feelings “Stop it, Myung Gi—who’s Jun Bee?” you demanded, your voice trembling as you pulled the covers tighter around yourself. The drugs in your system blurred reality, twisting everything into something raw and overwhelming.
“I… she’s just someone I used to be with,” he said, his words measured but uneasy.His answer hit you harder than you expected—another girl? Your mind raced, piecing together fragmented thoughts, and then it hit like a gut punch: She’s pregnant.
The realization burned, the question forming in your mind before you could stop it. Was he selfish enough to leave her like that? To leave her carrying his child while he moved on?
The weight of it made it hard to breathe, harder still to keep the swirl of emotions from consuming you.
”But it’s not what you think,please.”He looked at you begging it not think of it like that as he touched your cheek his hand caressing you.
”I don’t know about this anymore myung gi.”The words hit him hard he couldn’t let you leave.But why are you only coming at him only?You did something with another man the man he hatred the one that almost killed him.Stop being a hypocrite
You froze. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He stepped closer, eyes locked on yours.
“Wait. Listen to me,” he said, softer now, desperate.You stayed still—torn between guilt and grief—letting him speak, letting him unravel whatever was left between you.
His fingers brushed over your lips, slow and deliberate, silencing whatever you were about to say. Then he leaned in, his body towering over yours, closing the space between you.
Just the sight of him this close made your stomach twist—the weight of him, the heat, the presence. You were already melting beneath it. But the drugs in your system amplified everything—the rush, the sensitivity, the way even the lightest touch sent sparks through you.
His fingertips, barely grazing your skin, lit up something deeper—need, want, raw sexual tension that had been simmering beneath the surface. You didn’t need much. Just him. Just now. He covered yourself both with the blankets on the bed.
You weren’t thinking straight as your mind slowly losing yourself.He pulled off your sweater as you then unclipped the bra.The bouncing of your breast and skin sweat hit.
”your so much more.”His words deeply coming in you.His fingers traveled there way down to your sweatpants more under as his finger touched your pussy.It made you feel good as he brushed past.
He started to curl his fingers in you.The look on your face told him everything he needed to know.The spot he hit as the g spot awakes the feeling of love and juice
You moaned as he kissed you covering it.His eyes were locked on you—on your body—with a hunger that made your breath hitch. He closed the distance fast, his pace quickening, movements strong and deliberate, like the air itself had thickened around you, charged with heat. His breath came fast, matching yours, every motion syncing between you like instinct.
You grabbed him, pulling him down with you, your legs wrapping around his waist in one fluid motion. The urgency between you spiked as he tugged down his sweats—yours following just as quickly, no hesitation, no pause. Just raw need and the electric pull that neither of you could resist.Your pussy poured its juices out as you put looked at him as eyes stuck now on your body.
His thick cock pressed against your entrance, teasing, dragging slowly as he lined himself up. The heat between your bodies pulsed with anticipation.
Then he eased in—gently, carefully—his breath catching the moment he sank into you.“Fuck—” he gasped, voice raw, barely holding it together.
He moved slow at first, every thrust measured, controlled, making sure you could take all of him without pain. His hands gripped your hips, grounding himself in the feel of you, in the way your body responded to his—tight, warm, and pulling him in deeper with every breath. “Myung gi.”You called out as your legs started shaking.The tension was thick keeping you both together. He drove deeper into you, his pace quickening with every thrust, like he couldn’t get close enough—couldn’t take enough of you. Your body rocked beneath him, your breasts moving with each motion, catching his eyes and pulling a groan from his throat.
His hand slid up, cupping one, kneading it with slow intensity before he bent down, still buried inside you. His mouth closed around your nipple, tongue flicking and circling before his teeth grazed it, gentle but deliberate. His other hand teased the opposite side, fingers skillful, unrelenting.
You gasped, back arching, completely undone. It was too much—but you didn’t want it to stop. Lust and love tangled inside you, blurring into something overwhelming, something that took over everything else.
He buried himself on to you.He started slowly down as he was close to finishing “hurry up—“last words you said as his hot liquid came inside you.His cum filling you up as you shaked. “Hu— I need you.”Myung gi said as he looked up at you his eyes stayed there.Your head was held back as you felt his cum traveling still.
Myung Gi pulled out slowly, his body slick with sweat, chest rising and falling as he hovered over you. Without a word, he shifted lower, gently moving your legs apart to make space.
Then he lowered his head.
His tongue flicked against your clit, slow at first—tasting you, tasting both of you. The mix only seemed to fuel him, his movements deliberate and hungry. He moaned softly against you, clearly enjoying every reaction your body gave.
You were still trembling, sensitive, caught in the aftershocks—but the tension hadn’t left. It simmered beneath your skin, your breath catching again as his mouth worked you open all over again. The drugs were wearing off, but not the feeling—not this moment. Everything else dulled, but the weight of him, the heat of what just happened, stayed sharp and real.
He lifted his head, then slowly laid down on top of you, his chest pressed against yours, breath still uneven. You glanced around, a flicker of panic tightening your chest—did anyone see? Hear?
But there was nothing. No one.
Then his voice cut through the quiet.
“You must be carrying my child,” he said, staring down at you, his gaze locked and unflinching.
There was no trace of hesitation in his voice—only certainty.
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Any Other Way
Tyler Owens x Reader
As voted on by you the people. Relationships aren’t too unlike Tornadoes when you really think about it.
Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, passing mentions of childhood injuries and bull riding accidents (nothing detailed or graphic), depictions of storms and tornadoes. (please let me know if you want me to tag anything else).
Word count: 1.3K
Masterlist | Talk to me about Tyler and Jake

The first time he ever saw a tornado touch down it was only a couple miles outside his home town. it's the same town he met her in. A force of nature; upending his life in ways neither of the two of them would have been able to anticipate in that bar all those months ago.
He thinks now that nature and fate must be much the same, dictated by some higher power he's always believed in but never truly understood. As terrifying as it is mesmerizing, he finds him head over heels for her and it scares the shit out of him.
Life moves faster when he's just falling into it. He's fallen out of trees as a kid, and been thrown from horses; an adrenaline rush halted only by a sudden and painful meeting with the ground. Love feels somewhat the same. He'd heard the phrase whirlwind romance, but he never expected it to be so life-altering.
She rides shotgun in his truck and wears his favourite flannels, she changes the radio station while they are driving and he doesn't even flinch. As terrifying as it all is he chooses to look for the beauty in all of it. Tucked safely in his truck harnesses as the world spins around them he's certain he's finally found a safe place to land.
The sound of the tornado passing right over the top of them echoes in his ears, and his eyes after all these years of chasing are still never quite sure where to focus. At a distance he's practiced at identifying precipitation patterns, analyzing the structures and collapses of storms; he's made a living doing it. But, in the centre of the storm, it's the pounding of his own heart rate that grabs his attention. Riding out a fear isn't the same as ignoring it, so he chooses to let it ground him. He focuses his mind on the science and the still unfathomable pulchritude of the natural world.
Unrestrained and blithesome, laughter escapes him as the dust settles and they climb out of the truck. Her smile is as big as he's ever seen, it as she jokes along with Boone who clambers out of the backseat camera in hand. With an excited prompt from his friend, and the camera pointed in his direction, Tyler is quick to explain some of the science to their viewers breaking down their tornado experience into layman's terms. It's one of his favourite parts of the job; spreading joy and wonder.
A few feet away he watches her grinning as she observes first-hand the soft purpling of the sky above in the wake of the storm. These are the good days.
On the bad days; hours in the truck, and nights spent on bad mattresses havoc on everyone's bodies. A lack of promising storms on the radars leaves them pacing gas station parking lots, and sitting around the motel rooms they swore they didn't want to spend time in except to sleep.
The air conditioner buzzes, humming an air of uneasiness into the already tense room. The room is silent otherwise and Tyler wishes one of the two of them would say something, but after 12 hours of nothing but waiting there doesn't seem to be much conversation left to have. She sprawls out on the bed, her arm draped over her eyes blocking out the yellow incandescent lamp light. He scrolls on his laptop, wading through radars and projections, searching for a new destination and a new objective, his fingers tapping an untimed beat against the bedside table. It's the calm before the storm.
He can't pinpoint when the tension began to grow though in hindsight he's sure he should've seen it coming. But next thing he's in a shouting match, his own behaviour thrown at him as a heavy insult, he knows he's saying things he doesn't mean. In the middle of it all his heart races, waiting for the calm once more so he might be able to understand what happened. The door slams behind her when she leaves, and the brown shag carpet is scratchy against the palms of his hands as he lowers himself to sit next to the bed. Defeated he tries to analyze her actions and his own, accessing the potential damage as he goes.
Who's to blame? who's at fault? He doesn't care as he replays the events of the day in his head. The bigger questions rattle around his skull begging for his attention, where did she go? Should he go after her? The aftermath is always the hardest part of a storm.
A sudden flash of red illuminating his laptop screen has him on his feet and across the room again in a heartbeat. An unexpected, oncoming storm. His stomach feels lead-lined as he taps her contact on his phone; gutted when he hears the rhythmic vibration on the nightstand. Her phone lit up with his contact photo.
There's a hopeless in it, the wind howling through the small town, whipping around the tiny motel. He hopes they're not in the direct path of the storm, but he doesn't take the time to check. Texts from Boone and Dani confirm they're sheltering with Lily and Dexter. Tyler texts back: looking for her.
His breath rattles in his chest, and he ignores the way his hands shake as he calls out her name, hoping beyond hope that she's near by. Surely she noticed the shift in the weather and found somewhere safe. Surely this isn't how he loses her, on the back of a stupid fight.
He thinks his knees might buckle if he lets himself stand still for too long, a foolish brand of restlessness stirs him into moving. The thought of what he stands to lose pounding in the back of his mind. The air is thick, and the rain that's now falling makes it hard for him to see the ground in front of him. He fights his way forward without a thought of himself, it's not the storm that scares him, but rather what it might take that strikes the chord of fear he's wrestled his whole life.
He manages to make his way across the parking lot of the eerie quiet town, the echo of a storm siren blaring in the near distance. The window of the motel office has been shattered by some kind of debris and he has to shield himself from the wind even indoors, crouching low as he moves. He calls her name again, he voice cracking in a desperate plea.
“Tyler?” A tear filled voice calls from behind the counter.
He finds her curled on the floor under the large front desk, the sweet motel owner Doris holding tightly to her. He slips himself beneath the desk taking note of where it's bolted into the ground, a good distance from the windows; she's a clever girl. “I'm sorry,” she gasps out quickly, her eyes locking onto his own, “me too, darlin’,” he swears, “but we'll have time to talk about it later”.
The world grows quiet again, pounding rain, and vicious winds slowing before stopping, air pressure releasing its heavy hold. He helps Doris out from under their hiding place, the gray haired older woman patting his hand in thanks as she catches her breath. He helps his girl up next not at all shocked when she throws herself against his chest. The familiar smell of her shampoo, and the feeling of his own flannel shirt on her frame ground him.
“We're okay, baby,” he promises.
“I got you these,” she says holding out a now crushed packet of milk duds. “I just wanted to clear my mind and I saw them in the vending machine. I was on my way back to the room--but the storm. I didn't mean to scare you”.
His smile is wide despite the weight of tears behind his eyes, “honey, you scare the hell out of me and I wouldn't want it any other way”.
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May I request Fem!reader’s team wins against Judgement Day after reader distracts Damian by kissing him. The faces celebrate their win but reader & Damian can’t stop touching their lips.
Title: Distractions Pairing: Damian Priest x Reader Word Count: 1,249
You and Rhea have been at each other’s throats for the past few weeks, and with Damian wanting another shot at Braun after his loss to him last week, each of you gladly took up the offer to kill two birds with one stone by having a mixed tag match when the opportunity was presented to you.
Though you’re almost certain that Damian himself is the catalyst for tensions between yourself and Rhea finally reaching boiling point - that she fears you’re becoming a distraction for him, that you’re trying to purposefully worm your way in and pull him away from the Judgment Day somehow.
Admittedly, spoken to Damian more in passing as the weeks have gone by, and you can’t deny there’s definitely something that’s shifted in how you act towards each other. Lingering gazes, light touches, the way you both light up that bit more around each other…
Damian has never explicitly said anything to you, but he feels it, too.
You’re currently splayed out at ringside, dazed, battered, and bruised while you try your utmost to recover from Rhea’s cheap shot on you in an attempt to keep you down and out of the match.
“Suck it!” Rhea yells and taunts you before she starts retreating back to her respective side of the apron, deciding she’s rang your bell more than enough, that she’s sure you won’t be clambering back up to your feet to help out Braun, your tag team partner, at any point. He’s currently in the ring battling it out against Damian, and as it stands, the odds are most definitely in the Terror Twins’ favour.
With a groan, you’re able to hoist yourself up onto your knees after a minute or two has passed by. The aftermath of the beating you just received hurts like hell, but you lean against the ring in time to see Damian firing himself up to hit Braun with what is inevitably the killing blow of the match.
Your mind is telling you it’s a rather sly, self-indulgent tactic, but it’s almost as if your body runs on both adrenaline and autopilot. You act quickly and stalk around the edge of the ring to find your way to an unsuspecting Rhea, and you sweep her legs from under her to send her tumbling down to the ground.
“Yeah, how d’you like that?!” You scream, returning the favour and giving her a beatdown of her own, only ceasing your assault once you’re satisfied with the outcome. Certain that she won’t be getting back up, you rush to the adjacent side of the ring and climb up onto the apron in time to see Braun shove Damian back in your general direction, which, unbeknownst to your partner, works absolutely perfectly in your favour.
There, you quickly signal Braun to hold off on a follow up attack, instead reaching out to grab at Damian over the ropes in an attempt to catch his attention. You prevail, and he’s quick to turn on his heel, a mix of surprise and confusion flickering over his features when he comes face to face with you.
Despite knowing Damian shouldn’t let this sidetrack him, he feels like he’s been struck by lightning when his eyes lock onto yours, and little does he know that the feeling is more than mutual.
“What are you doing?” Damian asks while his gaze softens at the mere sight of you, and it isn’t until then that you realise your hand is still granting you both skin-to-skin contact. Slowly, you retract your hand, your skin and his still respectively blazing from the accidental lingering touch.
Subconsciously, he takes a step closer to you, his gaze still intently focused on you. It feels as though time stops around you both, and nobody else exists - not the crowd in the arena, not your opponents, not even the viewers at home. Despite all the jeers and whistles from the crowd during your face-off, the two of you are all that matters in the moment.
“More like what are we doing?” you fire back at him and support yourself on the ropes, subtly leaning in closer to him to continue your distraction, “We need to both stop pretending. It’s gone on for long enough-”
“(Y/N), this isn’t the time or place for this and you know it!”
Damian dismisses you with a shake of his head and a brief wave of the hand, and just as he’s about to turn around and focus his attention back on Braun, you’re quick to reach out and grasp hold of his wrist. His head snaps back up and he glances back at you, and you tug him towards where you stand on the apron.
The subsequent series of events all happens in quick succession. Reaching out to him, you cup his face with both hands and draw him into you, slamming your lips against his in a last ditch effort to prolong him turning his attention back to Braun.
You feel Damian tense for a moment, failing to reciprocate the kiss as he processes what’s happening, but you can pinpoint the exact second that the penny drops for him. Your lips move in near-perfect sync against each other when he finally kisses you back, and the only thing that stops it from growing in passion is the fact that you’re vaguely aware that you have a crowd of thousands watching you two right now.
They cheer and wolf-whistle at you both while you’re lost in the moment, and before you get too engrossed in it, you pry yourself away from his kiss and cast a glance to a patiently waiting Braun.
“I’m sorry-”
You murmur to Damian, so rushed that he almost doesn’t catch it and doesn’t even have more than a second to react. Widening your eyes at Braun and rapidly nodding your head, he takes the hint and marches over to an unsuspecting Damian and practically rips him away from you before he lands a kick to the gut and drags him to the centre of the ring.
There, Braun delivers another flurry of blows on Damian, then he hoists him up to hit him with a vicious Yokosuka Cutter right in front of you. You look on at Damian sprawled out on the mat with a pang of guilt that strikes you equally as hard as the blow he just took, looking on as Braun pins him and gets the three count.
The bell rings and Braun rises back to his feet in victory, beckoning you into the ring with him to celebrate while Damian drags himself into the corner of the ring nearest to him.
“Don’t know how you came to think of doing that, but it was genius!”
Braun lets out a deep chuckle and raises your arm up in victory, and you let out a small laugh and beam from ear to ear as you revel in the celebrations with your tag team partner.
Trying to be as subtle as you can, you raise a hand to your lips, tracing your index finger along where Damian’s lips met yours mere moments ago. You glance to the corner where he sits, slumped but mirroring you as he ghosts a finger over his lips, undoubtedly having the same thought process as you right now.
You both lock eyes, and you’re sure that what’s just transpired will lead to a rather interesting conversation between you both later - possibly even more than that, too.
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cybersex | camgirl! x skz
prologue . chapter II



MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. content warnings will include the following for this chapter: mentions of body image issues, girl x girl sex, mentions of sex toys, female masturbation, reader is actually bi but i did not explicitly state it in the chapter, it's a pretty mild chapter
genre: skz x camgirl!reader, use of she/her/hers wc: 2.2K
Chapter 1
It had been about 6 weeks since you had done the first live-stream, at the start, it was mainly about getting comfortable in front of the camera. Sana, being your mentor through this, started off by bringing you onto her stream. With Mina’s permission, Sana proposed the idea of allowing her to guide you through the first live. Mina trusted both of you deeply, she always understood that while this started off as a hobby for extra income it had become a job for Sana. In the same breathe, they would never compromise their relationship or boundaries. Mina expressed she was completely okay with it, she had even extended her offer to join you for this if it made you more comfortable as she often did join Sana in her streams as it brought even more views and money.
Clothing was the first obstacle. The idea of going full frontal made the idea of jumping into a frozen pool more appealing. So to get you to dip your toes in the water, less was more. It was all about a tease. Sana had gotten you to wear a black slip dress, no bra but panties were optional. As for your face, you had found a black lace masquerade eye mask that complimented the dress well. Similarly, Sana often had a white lace masquerade mask with bunny ears that stood tall, a lot of her viewers liked the mask even after her face reveal, it played into her branding and persona.
Sana had brought you into her cam room where she prepped you both for the live-stream. She went over all the rules and safewords, reaffirming you could stop the moment you felt uncomfortable or didn't want to do it anymore. She made sure you were familiar and settled in your headspace before beginning, you allowed her to do your hair and makeup a slow guide to calm the nerves. For Sana, these were opportunities to take her out of reality, into a space where she had control and power. It was her way of artistry, of performing, this was her stage and where she felt empowered. You had agreed to make the live no longer than an hour, so that’s where it would begin, you sat in front of Sana situated between her legs. Positioned perfectly behind the camera was a TV screen-sized monitor where you could see yourselves and the chat, comments rolling in once the camera was turned on. Mina sat in for the live quietly to take control of the live setup so she could immediately shut things off if you gave the signal, she often did this when Sana was soloing her streams.
Although you feared you’d back down the minute the camera turned on once the compliments rolled in, you felt the adrenaline pumping. It was a head rush to see so many gawking and begging to see more of you, it didn't matter who these people were or what they looked like. It was a rush you had never felt before. So there it was, your close friend feeling you up, kissing along your neck as you guided yourself through an orgasm with your legs spread in front of the camera for all her followers to see. By this point, the other two present in the room were shocked but turned on by the show you put on. All they could focus on was your moans and whimpers, it was almost angelic and the scenery was just as heavenly. Prior to this, an account was set up for to continue with this if things worked out. Mina had taken the initiative to pin your username that would link your account, amassing two thousand followers 20 minutes into the stream and by the end, you would walk away with a total of four and a half thousand.
Once the live had finished, you felt a little embarrassed by how quickly you felt you escalated things but Mina & Sana had reaffirmed there was nothing to be embarrassed by, they were proud of how well you had done. With the gifts and donations that you had accumulated from that first live you were able to start saving for your own equipment. You had decided to solo two more lives that week, getting more comfortable and only ever masturbating/teasing for the duration to situate yourself with things you liked and disliked. At this point, you were beginning to question if you even needed your waitress job. Thus began your search for your own apartment. You had maintained a consistent amount of streams twice a week for an hour over the next four weeks, allowing you to spend time apartment-hunting.
“You know, if I had known this little hobby would drive you out of my apartment, I would have never gotten you started,” Sana spoke as she made her morning coffee while you sat at the breakfast bar eyes lasered into the apartment listings. Sana enjoyed having you in her apartment but understood the importance of having your own space to continue doing these lives. “What am I gonna do with you gone?” she asked pouting as you hadn’t even so much as glanced at her.
“Please stop acting as if I’m dying or never coming back,” You grumbled as your eyes began to strain from the laptop's brightness. “You’ll still see me at work and I promise to come over all the time to continue to annoy you every waking chance I get.”
The apartment scene hadn’t been as glorious as it was. Luckily for you, a listing had just opened for a building not too far from where you lived. It was an open floor-plan apartment, with big arched windows and exposed brick walls. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an air conditioning unit, and hardwood. It was an interior designer's wet dream. The rent was just in your range and it was a second-floor apartment with a small balcony. You had arranged to see the apartment that day and were pleasantly surprised to find you could see the place in the next hour with only a 15-minute commute from Sana’s place. Apartments like these were hard to come by, the fear of not having a backup option ate away at you which is why you still sat at the computer. You slammed the computer deciding to just scout out the building now would be better instead of sitting here
“Well, I am off to see this place, do you want to come with?” You asked Sana as she sipped away at her coffee.
“I’d love to but I promised to take Mina to the farmers market this morning, she’s finishing up as we speak. Call me right after though and we’ll grab lunch together.” She kisses your cheek disappearing back into her bedroom. You hum in agreeance heading towards the door, you feel a familiar nudge at your leg only to find your fur baby. Jiji was your gorgeous white and grey cat that you found on your way home after a particularly terrible shift, she had always been there to get you through the hardest times.
“And you, my little muffin, I will see you later. Mommy’s gonna get us a nice big place for you to run and terrorize all on your own. Get you a nice big tree and the biggest fluffiest bed imaginable.” She purrs pleasantly as if she had a complete understanding of the promises you just made her.
After giving her a shower of kisses, you headed down the street to find the building. It was about 3 blocks over, it was a relief to know you could stay in an area that was still familiar to you. It was a quaint area, well-kept. There was a coffee around the corner you frequently passed on your way to work but never found the time to stop in or bothered to visit when the one closer to you had always just been across the street. You leaned against the brick wall that stopped at your hips
while waiting for the relator. Your ears perked hearing someone come out of the building. As you turned to peak at the stranger, you were met with two familiar but unexpected faces instead.
“Fancy seeing you here, stalking us?” Seungmin was the first one to say something as they came down the stairs.
“Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you two before this very moment,” You said as they now stood at the bottom of the stairs. Seungmin and Jeongin were two waiters from the restaurant you worked at. You were always friendly with both of them, but your friendship never went beyond the walls of the restaurant unless it was a particularly rough night and you all went out to the bar down the street for some after-work drinks.
“Are you wait for someone?” Jeongin asked. He always had such a cute that was simultaneously sharp and made him look older than he was. Seungmin on the other hand had a very boyish face, he was cute like a puppy but something in his mannerisms always said that he wasn’t as sweet as he may look.
“Sort of, I’m waiting on a realtor to tour an apartment here.”
“The one on the 2nd floor?” Seungmin asks in a higher pitch than you anticipated.
“Actually, yeah. How’d you know?” You ask as Jeongin mutters a ‘damn’ under his breath.
“We were looking at it ourselves, we wanted to upgrade the living space. It’s incredibly nice though, it’s big, and the rooms are huge too for an apartment like that. Hard to come by.” Seungmin says as he slaps a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. “You and Sana moving out together?”
“Oh no it's just me! I figured It was time to give her and Mina a space to themselves.” A half lie but truth be told, they did indeed need their own space.
“But it’s a two-bed-” Jeongins question gets interrupted by the realtor announcing himself.
“Hi, so which of you was touring the apartment today?” It is a short, stout man who speaks up his suit was a beige two-piece completed with a white button-down. You raise your hand in response. “Perfect! Follow me then.”
“Well, I’ll see you guys later!” You waive goodbye to them, Seungmin smiles with a waves, and Jeongin does the same with a look of confusion.
You followed the realtor up the stairs to the building entrance where he punched in the code. As you entered, someone from down the hall emerged from their place. He was tall with dark hair, he was wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt, and his hair was pulled into a half ponytail with some strategically placed strands pulled out that perfectly showed off the ear piercings. He had a smock thrown over his shoulder, his eyes met yours as you passed him to the stairs, there was no denying how stunning he was. The stranger offered a wink as he walked out the door. Something in your gut told you that wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.
The tour of the apartment wasn’t very long, the photos online did not do the place justice. There was plenty of sun beaming through the window, the kitchen was painted a deep green that perfectly contrasted with golden wood and white wall accents. The master bedroom had plenty of space, the bathroom had a claw foot tub perfect for decompressing and aftercare pampered baths. You signed for the lease once you had your fill of the place were given notice that you could move in a week from that day.
—
A week came by faster than you anticipated, you had hired a moving company to move everything for you. Work at the restaurant was slammed, you were covering as many shifts as you could to give you extra cushion to take the following week off to unpack and rest. The next time you had saw Seungmin and Jeongin, you gleefully told them about taking the apartment, and they generously offered to help you with the move-in process. You declined their offer but warmly invited them to your house warming.
Fortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot, Sana had owned most of the furniture so you had free agency to decorate the place as you pleased. Part of the move-out was agreeing to share custody of Jiji, while she was your fur baby, she was also Sana’s. You had agreed on a week-to-week schedule, this was your off week while you prepared the place. In the hunt for the most lavish and aesthetic cat furniture, you bought and assembled a cherry blossom cat tree with a matching pink cat cave for your sweet girl. After a grueling 5 days of unpacking, readjusting, and shifting, you had finally completed the place.
Ordering so many toys, furniture pieces, and equipment for the 2nd room made you feel a little crazy. You prayed none of your new neighbors saw the number of packages that came over the days concealing the assortment of sex toys, lingerie, and camera equipment. Your camgirl room was finally complete and you had promised your viewers a special show for the long wait.
—
cybersex masterlist
a/n: apologies for the delay in upload. i'll have chapter 2 later tonight with the good spice. comment below or send my an ask to be added to the taglist !🤍
taglist (2/30): @skzooluvr @breadpuddingboys
#skz smut#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz hard thoughts#skz x you#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#jeongin x reader#hyunjin x reader#hyunybunnywrites#bang chan x reader#changbin x reader#lee know x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#han x reader#jisung x reader#skz fluff#jeongin smut#hyunjin smut#jeongin hard thoughts#skz x reader smut#hyunjin hard thoughts#cybersexseries
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000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: season 3, ep. 4 [drive to survive]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis:⠀michaela gets on the podium. ✼. warnings:⠀none :)
✼.⠀SEPTEMBER 12, 2020 — tuscany, italy
The camera pans over the rolling hills of Tuscany, capturing the vibrant greens and golds of the Italian countryside. The famous Mugello Circuit stands proudly in the background, hosting the Tuscany Grand Prix of 2020. Being the first time the track will host a Formula 1 race, anticipation hangs in the air like the sweet scent of the local vineyards pictured in the distance.
Will Buxton sits in a graying corner of the confessional room, the stage lights illuminating his excited face. “Tuscany is more than just beautiful." the roar of Formula 1 engines mirrors the excitement the viewer can feel through the screen. "It’s a place of legends. And this year, one driver is determined to carve her name into that history: Michaela Sommers.”
Inside the Alfa Romeo garage, Michaela stands poised, her racing suit clinging to her athletic frame. A fierceness rarely witnessed by the Netflix cameras fills the air with an electric wait. Her brown eyes glisten with a mixture of nerves and stern determination. The hum of activity in the Alfa Romeo garage surrounds her as the crew prepares car number thirty-seven. The scent of oil and rubber is thick in the air as they flit around her in rapid succession; a vivid contrast to the focus she fixes over the sheet of data she holds in her hands.
“It’s surreal being here." Her accent floats in the air as the words leave her perfectly plump lips. The signature blonde of her hair is twirled into a rare curl, the pattern a bit frazzled as it struggles to break through the subtle hint of heat damage.
"I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a child, imagining the roar of the engines, the thrill of the chase." She smiles at this, lips curling at the ends. "But now, the reality is sinking in—I’m racing in Formula 1. I can’t just be another name.”
The air crackles with tension as Fred Vasseur, the Alfa Romeo team principal, strides into the garage as if in slow motion, his face a mix of focus and fierce encouragement. He observes the frenzied preparations, his mind racing with strategies. Finding Michaela tucked into herself, separate from the bustling life of the garage, he claps a soft hand onto the taller 20-year-old's shoulder.
As practice begins, Michaela slips into the cockpit, the roar of the engine vibrating through her. The car moves as if an extension of her own body. She speeds out onto the track, and the world around her blurs—a vivid tapestry of colors and sounds merging into a single, exhilarating sensation.
“Michaela has the talent. We’re here to support her, but the pressure is immense." His French-lilted words swirl through the consonants of his words.
The sun beats down mercilessly, sweat pooling at her brow as she pushes herself to the limit. The adrenaline rush is intoxicating, yet the constant threat of failure lingers at the back of her mind.
The scene shifts to the rising dawn of qualifying day—all bright and tense, the sky a brilliant canvas of blue. Michaela stands on the grid, her heart pounding in her chest, every thrum of her pulse synchronized with the roar of engines surrounding her. Fans are packed into the grandstands, their cheers rising like a tide. A young girl holds up a poster of her favorite driver, one just as female as her.
Vasseur appears once more on the screen. A gentle smile adorns his features as he vocalizes his support for the young Australian. "This weekend could define her career. We all want that first podium finish. We know she is capable of that first podium finish.”
It is Michaela's turn to provide context as she appears once more on the screen. “Qualifying is… everything." As if struggling for words, her lips purse themselves tightly against one another. Her curls bounce lightly as her head shakes for emphasis. "I have to show that I belong here. One mistake and all of this could slip away.”
As the session commences, she grips the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity, the tires screaming for grip as she navigates the twisting circuit. Every corner demands a precision that she delivers with practiced levelheadedness. Every straightaway calls for speed, she responds in kind with the expert application of her foot to the gas. The tension builds with each passing second, and her heart races as she finds her rhythm.
When the session wraps, her name flashes on the timing board in seventh place—a stunning personal best, but she knows she has another day to accomplish the impossible.
“This is huge for Alfa Romeo and me, of course. But I know it’s just the first step. The real battle is on Sunday.” Without as much as a hint of a smile, Michaela's expression is focused even in her confessionals. Her demeanor perfectly reflects the seriousness with which she approaches every reference to her racing.
✼.⠀SEPTEMBER 13, 2020 — tuscany, italy
Race day breaks with a breathtaking sunrise that casts a warm golden hue over the circuit. The air is thick with anticipation, the scent of burning rubber and hot asphalt mixing with the earthy aroma of the nearby vineyards. Michaela stands on the grid, every nerve in her body alive with energy as the Italian national anthem plays out over the roar of the home crowd.
“Seeing Michaela on that grid is inspiring." Susie's eyes crinkle with warmth. "I’ve walked that path, and I know the stakes. This is where she’ll prove her worth.” She nods to her own words, believing sincerely that the young driver would achieve her bring moment.
As Michaela glances across the paddock, she meets the eyes of fierce faces—Lewis, Kimi, Sebastian—drivers whose accolades cast long shadows. As she continues to glance across the track, she meets the eyes of familiar rivals—Alex, Pierre, Charles—drivers she had battled every moment leading up to the one offering itself up to her now. The weight of expectation presses down on her like a heavy blanket, each camera flash a consuming reminder of the history she is trying to create.
The roar of engines reverberated through the packed grandstands at the Autodromo Internazionale del Mugello as the sleek chariots of Formula 1 lined up on the grid. The air crackles with anticipation; the stakes impossibly high, and the pressure insurmountably palpable.
The five lights go out, and the race launches into an immediate chaos. Engines roar, and the world becomes a blur of color and sound as Michaela blasts off the line. Her heart pounds as she jostles for position, deftly navigating the swirling chaos around her. The noise of roaring engines drowned out everything else as the field surged into the first corner—a high-speed ballet of carbon fiber and raw adrenaline. Heart pounding, Michaela navigated through the chaos, her instincts honed to perfection, emerging unscathed but hyper-aware of the battle raging around her.
"Michaela, you're showing strong pace. Keep pushing," her race engineer's voice crackled urgently through the team radio. With every heartbeat, she demanded more from her car, muscling it through sweeping curves and daring overtakes, her determination igniting a fire within. Kimi Raikkonen, her seasoned teammate, became both a mentor and a rival as they engaged in a relentless chess match on wheels into the sixteenth lap.
In the paddock, team principal Fred Vasseur watched with bated breath, his brow furrowed in equal parts concentration and concern at the battle between his two drivers. "She's driving like a woman possessed out there," he muttered out to no one in particular, eyes glued to the unfolding drama. Crofty’s voice cuts through the noise, narrating and dissecting every twist and turn for viewers around the globe.
As the race unfolds, dark clouds gather overhead, ominous and foreboding. The tension thickens like a brewing storm, and soon, rain begins to pour, drenching the track. Michaela can feel the fear rising around her as drivers scramble for pit stops, the slick surface transforming the circuit into a dangerous challenge she just cannot refuse.
An urgent 'box, box' comes over the radio moments later, a gentle panic rising in the depths of her conscience as she questions the decision out loud to her engineer. A simple response, "We feel it is time for inters," is all that comes across the radio, a done deal.
“This is where strategy matters." Will Buxton's voice cuts through the noise of the ongoing race. "The rain changes everything. One wrong move and it could all come crashing down, like that.” With the sound of his snapping fingers, the scene shifts back to Michaela's untimely pit stop.
As she speeds into the pits, the rain hammers down as if a thousand tiny drums. Her crew moves with the precision of a well-trained unit on a mission of success, changing her tires to intermediates. She can feel the pressure rising, the hopes of her team resting on her shoulders.
Back on the track, the rain-soaked asphalt is proving to be a challenge. Drivers struggle to keep their cars on pace in the pooling water. Michaela proves to be in her element, expertly maneuvering through the chaos. The echoes of praise ring through the action as the commentators reference the "Sommer Rain", the nickname she has so fondly picked up in Formula 3 for her thrilling overtakes in the wet.
As laps tick by in a blur of tire changes, red flag restarts, and high-stakes overtakes, tension mounts. Michaela remains steely-eyed, channeling the laser focus that had propelled her this far.
Midway through the race, the red flag is waved after a multi-car pile-up, halting the frenzy. Michaela pulls into the pit lane, her hands trembling slightly on the wheel as adrenaline mixes with anxiety. The tension in the garage is palpable as her team gathers around her.
“It's now or never. I have a chance to finish on the podium, but everything can change in an instant. I can’t let the moment slip away.” Her tone is only aided by the urgency of the soundtrack as it mirrors the intensity of the race.
With fresh soft tires bolted on, she rejoins the fray as if being unleashed from her reins, carving her way through the pack with a renewed vigor. The cars of Daniel and Checo fight tooth and nail to keep her at bay, but their mistakes prove opportunities for the young Australian to lunge for their positions as if entranced in a dance of glory.
As the final laps approach, Alex's Red Bull is in an uneasy reach. One wrong move, and she'd be in the barriers.
"This is it, Michaela. One chance to make history," her engineer's words echo into the pink of her helmet. On his heels, she waits for her moment in hungry waiting.
The sun breaks through the clouds, creating a surreal glow. The reality of her position sent electric shocks of adrenaline through her body, eager for just one more position. The crowd's roar is deafening, a living, breathing entity urging her on. Just one more position.
“Michaela is making history today. She’s not just participating; she’s competing at the highest level.” This time it is Lewis who provides his resounding input. The certainty in both tone and expression serves as reminders of his support for the younger driver.
The final few laps loom, the tension thick enough to keep the rain clouds from returning to cause havoc on the Tuscan track. Michaela’s heart pounds as she battles wheel-to-wheel with Alex. Each turn is a high-stakes gamble, and with every flick of the steering wheel, she inches closer to her dream.
With sheer determination, she launches a daring move, slipping past her friend like a bolt of lightning. Caught off guard, Alex slams a frustrated hand onto his wheel, quick to swear as he watches the Australian bolt off onto the straight.
In another instant, the checkered flag waves Michaela crossing the coveted finish line, her heart pounding in her chest, disbelief mingling with euphoria. The home fans erupt into an unsettling hum of pure excitement. The history made before their eyes is not lost on their eager hearts, a frenzy of feet rushing to break through the barriers keeping them from the track.
As she pulls into the previously distant third-place slot, her team erupts in an explosion of joy, the air filled with cheers and hugs. Freeing herself from the confines of her signature red car, Michaela can hardly contain herself as she runs into the arms of her awaiting team. Tears rush down the curves of her brown face. Leaping over the barriers, Fred Vasseur envelops her in a tight embrace, tears glistening in his eyes, pride radiating from every pore.
“This is a historic moment for our team and women in motorsport. Michaela has shown that all of the sacrifice, it pays off.” Fred laughs gleefully, recalling the rush of emotions as they pumped joy into his lungs.
Michaela steps onto the podium, her heart racing as her name is called and her flag is flown over her head. The yellow, sewn laurels of her dad cap almost feel inexplicably heavy upon her head as the weight of her accomplishment lands upon her consciousness, soaring around her like a celebration of freedom. The trophy glistens in her hands, a tangible representation of her hard-won journey. The roar of the crowd envelops her, their cheers echoing like a powerful wave crashing against the shores of her dreams.
“Regardless of team loyalties," Susie laughs this time. Her white Mercedes polo stood out against the familiar gray of the confessional background.
"This podium isn’t just a personal victory; it’s a win for all women in motorsport—past, present, and future."
As the sun sets over Tuscany, casting long shadows across the circuit, the celebrations continue. Michaela stands amidst her team, her heart swelling with gratitude and disbelief. The sticky champagne doused over her head by Lewis and Valtteri embeds itself into her skin, a feeling she resolves to never forget.
The camera lingers on the beauty of Tuscany, capturing the triumph of one extraordinary driver, the spirit of the race lingering like the scent of wine grapes over the green landscape.
As the Tuscany Grand Prix of 2020 comes to a close in an electrifying spectacle, whispers of a potential contract with Ferrari for the 2021 season begin to permeate the paddock. The pressroom buzzes with excitement and speculation as Michaela Sommers' remarkable performance ignites discussions about her future in Formula 1.
Rumors swirl like uncertainty in the wind, carrying tales of secret meetings and clandestine negotiations between Michaela's management team and the more prestigious Italian racing team. Unable to remove herself from the swirl of rumors, Michaela enters the press room with a gentle air of cautiousness despite the rush of accomplishment still coursing through her.
Amidst the fervor, Michaela's every move and utterance becomes the subject of intense scrutiny, with journalists and fans alike hanging onto her every word, hoping to grasp insights into her plans.
Maintaining a poised and collected demeanor, Michaela deflects questions about her future plans with a diplomatic, easy grace. Her silence on the matter serves only to fuel the flames of anticipation, leaving fans and pundits alike on tenterhooks as they await an official announcement.
Will offers his expertise, leaning into the speculative tone of the episode.
"It's not completely out of the question that Michaela could be promoted to Ferrari." His brows raise as if eager to learn of the outcome of his narrative. "Especially with Sebastian Vettel's continued cold war with Binotto. A pairing between Leclerc and Sommers could be one of the most competitive pairings next season."
With a casual smile, the smell of champagne still lingering in the air, Michaela deflects the questions with a subtle shrug.
"I appreciate the interest, but my focus right now is on racing for Alfa Romeo. I'm fully committed to giving my best for this team, and any discussions about the future will have to wait until the right time."
Camera flashes glimmer across her smiling face, a direct opposition to her defiant tone.
"Right now, I'm excited to be here and I hope to continue working hard with the incredible team at Alfa Romeo."
She ends her statement with a soft, "Cheers," before lifting herself from her seat. The episode draws to a close as it fades to black, focusing on her retreating figure.
✼. taglist:⠀
@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar
@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah
@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz
@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh
@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @99snse
@ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff
@emilyval1 @scarlettwidow3000 @anotherblackreader
@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearryyyy
@melancholyy-hill @emmma323 @valluvsu
@futuristiccroissantlampsludge @treehouse-mouse @sunfairry
#⠀،،⠀&. prose.#driver!oc#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 female driver#f1 imagine#f1 fanfiction#f1 fem!driver!oc#formula one imagine#formula one fanfic#formula 1 x fem!oc#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula two#f1 fiction#fanfic#driver!reader#f1 drivers#f1 driver!reader#f1 x oc#f1 grid x fem!oc#f1 grid x oc#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid x driver!oc
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Gamer girl
At a buzzing gaming convention, Y/N, a passionate gamer girl, unexpectedly captures the attention of the charming Lee Felix. Amidst the excitement of the event, their playful banter evolves into an undeniable connection. As they team up for a gaming competition, Y/N’s skills and fierce determination draw Felix in deeper.

Chapter 1: The Glow of Pink
The soft glow of Felix’s laptop filled his dimly lit room as he eagerly awaited Y/N's latest livestream to start. He’d marked the date on his calendar, a small ritual he’d stuck to over the past few months. As soon as the stream began, he felt a surge of anticipation, the kind that comes only when something exciting is about to unfold.
Y/N appeared on screen, her vibrant pink hair framing her face like cotton candy. The colorful setup around her encapsulated her coquette style, with pastel decorations that effortlessly captured her fun-loving personality. Felix found himself smiling as she greeted her viewers, her energy radiating even through the screen.
“Hey, my lovely gamers! Are you ready to dive into another adventure?” she chimed, her voice bright and inviting. “Today, we’re tackling the hardest level yet in ‘Fantasy Quest!’ Make sure to grab your snacks, and let’s do this!”
Felix couldn’t help but be captivated by her charm; her smile was infectious, and the way she made everyone feel included made his heart warm. He leaned closer, feeling a sense of camaraderie with her, as if they were embarking on this virtual adventure together.
Her voice blended perfectly with the upbeat background music, creating a soothing atmosphere as she expertly navigated her character through forests, dungeons, and epic battles. As she faced challenges in the game, Felix watched her react with a mixture of determination and humor that had drawn him in weeks ago.
“Come on! Really?” she exclaimed, her expressive face mirroring the frustration of her in-game character. “Why can’t I just get past this level?”
Felix chuckled along with the other viewers. “Don’t worry, you got this!” he typed in the chat, hoping she’d see his words of encouragement among the flood of comments.
“Thank you, Anonymous Gamer!” Y/N replied, her bright eyes scanning the screen. “You’re right! I will not be defeated!”
Every stream felt like a sanctuary, a delightful escape from his idol life filled with choreography, fan expectations, and media scrutiny. There was something extraordinary about watching someone as authentic as Y/N, and every laugh they shared felt like a connection, even if it was a one-sided screen affair.
That night, after the stream ended, Felix sat back, still riding the high from Y/N’s infectious energy. His heart fluttered with the possibilities of what it might be like to meet her, to share a real-life moment filled with laughter and joy instead of pixels and screens.
As the days passed, he found himself increasingly intertwined in the gaming world, following Y/N more closely on social media, liking her posts, and occasionally commenting. It became a game of its own—how to show his support without revealing his true identity.
When Y/N announced that she would attend GigaCon in their hometown, Felix felt a rush of excitement sweeping over him. “This is my chance!” he whispered to himself, a mixture of adrenaline and fear coursing through him. He knew he had to go, but he sought a way to attend without revealing who he was. What would she think if she discovered he was a member of Stray Kids, a renowned idol?
Felix painstakingly plotted his disguise, pulling on a simple hoodie, a cap, and a mask to shield his identity. The hustle and bustle of the GigaCon venue was more exhilarating than he had anticipated. Bright lights, colorful booths, and excited chatter filled the air, wrapping him in both warmth and trepidation.
As he wandered through the familiar environment of fans and cosplayers, he could see gaming enthusiasts connecting and forming friendships. But at the same time, he felt the distance that came with his celebrity status, which had kept him in a bubble that felt tangible yet invisible.
Finally, he spotted Y/N at her booth, engaging with fans as they took selfies and chatted. She was vibrant and captivating in person, just as she was on screen. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in her enthusiasm and the way she lit up the room.
“Okay,” he murmured to himself, “this is it.”
Gathering his courage, Felix stepped forward. “Hey! I’m just another gamer who really enjoys your streams,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady as he approached her.
Y/N looked up, and for a brief moment, Felix held his breath, waiting to see her reaction.
“What’s your name?” she asked, brightening even more at the interaction.
“Just call me… Nameless Gamer,” he replied, infusing a playful tone to his words.
“Nameless Gamer? What a cool name! So what do you like about gaming?” she asked, leaning in closer, intrigued.
And suddenly, it felt easy. With a natural flow of conversation, Felix felt the tension from before ease as
he spoke with her about their mutual love for gaming. They discussed their favorite titles, gaming strategies, and even the nerves that come with streaming. Felix was amazed at how they clicked; each laugh and shared anecdote wove a thread of connection between them.
“Honestly, I think the best part about gaming is being able to share those moments with friends or fans,” Y/N confessed, her eyes sparkling. “It’s like we’re all in this together, cheering each other on.”
Felix nodded, feeling a warmth spread through him. “Exactly. It’s refreshing to connect with people over something we both love. It feels so real.”
As they continued conversing, Felix felt the weight of his secret beginning to pull at him. He wanted to show Y/N who he really was, to let her see the man behind the mask—the guy who had been cheering her on from afar.
After a pause, he took a breath, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his cap. “Y/N, I actually have something important to tell you,” he started, heart pounding in his chest. “I’m not just… any fan.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
In that moment, Felix glanced around, ensuring no one was watching. “I’m actually in a band called Stray Kids.”
The instant her eyes widened, he held his breath, waiting for her reaction. Time felt suspended as the words hung in the air.
“Wait… you’re Felix? Like… the Felix?!”
He nodded, anxiety creeping into his chest. “Yeah, that’s me. I know it’s a lot to take in. But I wanted to meet you without all the idol expectations, to connect with you as just… Felix.”
For a moment, she stood there, her mouth slightly open as she processed his words. Her shock melted into a radiant smile, one that lit up her entire face. “Oh my goodness! This is unbelievable! I’m such a huge fan of yours!”
He let out a relieved chuckle, feeling the weight lift off of him as a grin spread across his face. “Really? I’m glad to hear that. Honestly, I’ve been an admirer of your streams for a while now.”
Y/N giggled, her cheeks tinged a lovely shade of pink that made Felix’s heart race. “I can’t believe it! I always thought you were a cool dude, but now I know the truth!”
As their eyes held each other, a comforting silence enveloped them, filled with an unspoken understanding. Felix felt an electric pulse between them, a connection that transcended their initial encounter. It was like they were living in one of those moving K-dramas, where two destinies collided in the most perfect of moments.
Yet just as the atmosphere turned intimate, Y/N glanced around nervously, breaking the spell. “Aren’t you worried someone will recognize you? This is a huge crowd.”
“Yeah, it’s a little nerve-wracking,” Felix admitted, but the thrill of excitement and the warmth of Y/N's presence overshadowed any fear he might have felt. “But I’m here for you. I just wanted to connect without the glitz and glam, you know?”
“I get that. But it’s hard not to feel some pressure with who you are,” she replied, her voice slightly hesitant. “I’ve always been a little intimidated by idols.”
Felix felt his heart sink for a moment at the thought. “I get that, but I promise I’m just a guy who loves gaming. I don’t want my status to change how you see me.”
Y/N smiled shyly. “Well, you’ve succeeded so far. I mean, I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Felix laughed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “Well, I can’t let this opportunity slip away. Can we, like, team up for a game sometime? You know, partner up in the streaming world?”
“Absolutely! That sounds amazing!” Y/N exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “We can do co-op streams together! Just imagine the chaos!”
Felix grinned, exhilaration coursing through him. “I can’t wait!”
Gamer girl P.2
#stray kids#lee felix#lee know#skz imagines#image#imagine#kpop#kpop edits#bbokari#skz#han#changbin#jeongin#seungmin
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The Depths of Love
Prompt: No
Request: No
Prompt Number: None
Summery: Afer filming a scary video where he could have gotten hurt. Sam realizes just what his girlfriend Y/N would do for him and how far she is willing to go for him.
Pairings: Sam Golbach x Female Reader
Masterlist
Prompt List

_______________________________
As I looked back at the footage we had captured, my heart pounded with fear and adrenaline. Colby and I had just risked our lives exploring an abandoned building, and the video we had filmed was sure to give our viewers a good scare. But as I watched the tense and dangerous moments on screen, a feeling of guilt washed over me.
I turned to Colby, who was grinning and high-fiving me for the amazing shots we had captured. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we had been reckless and foolish.
It wasn't until I returned home and saw my girlfriend Y/N waiting for me with a look of worry and relief on her face that I fully understood the gravity of our actions. She hugged me tightly and scolded me for putting myself in danger, but I could tell she was also relieved that we had made it back unharmed.
As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. I realized that while I had been off having fun and chasing thrills with Colby, she had been worrying about my safety and waiting for me to return home.
The next day, I sat Y/N down and watched the exploration video with her. Her reaction was exactly what I had feared – she was terrified and angry that I had put myself in harm's way.
'I just don't understand why you would risk your life like that,' she said, tears welling up in her eyes. 'I love you, and I couldn't bear to lose you.'
I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Y/N loved me so much, and yet, I had been so reckless with my life. I realized then that I needed to change and start considering the consequences of my actions.
From that day on, I made sure to always put safety first in all of our videos. Whenever I embarked on a dangerous adventure, I made sure to let Y/N know how much she meant to me and that I would do everything in my power to come back to her unharmed.
Y/N's love and devotion taught me a valuable lesson – that the love of a partner is worth more than any thrill or adrenaline rush. I was lucky to have someone who cared for me so deeply, and I promised myself never to take her for granted again.
I am grateful for that scary exploration video, not only because it gave our viewers a good scare, but also because it made me realize just how much Y/N would do for me and how far she was willing to go to protect me.
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Updated: July 5, 2025
Reworked Character #18: Walter Ryan
POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, child abuse, suicide, drug addiction, and crime.
Real name: Walter Evangelos Mulryan
Nicknames: Walt, Evan, and Ryan
Occupation: Sergeant Major of Division 6 and cadet for the P.F. Squad (formerly)
Retirement plans: He's unsure what he wants to do outside of military service
Special skills: Zoology, callisthenics, Krav Maga, the use of paradummies, and mastery of guitars, keyboards, and singing
Imperfect clone abilities: From just above his pubic region to the upper back in a semi-crescent shape, he has skin flaps that open wide when he slouches and focuses on a specific person, group or object. Once open, they reveal his Marian blue muscles coated with mucosal lilac slime and six large circular holes. The mucosal slime coats his entire muscular and internal organ systems, providing effective immunity against harmful bacteria and viruses. From these holes emerge 1 ft (30.48 cm) fleshy periwinkle tendrils that grow up to 4 ft (121.92 cm) upon exposure to air, fueled by rapid cell growth and blood flow. The tendrils become semi-hard and extremely elastic, stretching up to 12 ft (365.76 cm) and capable of breaking iron-strength objects. Their primary functions include impaling, crushing, restraining, and lifting massive objects, such as two Easter Island heads, but they also possess remarkable sensitivity to gentle touch. Tracing the bulging greenish and reddish veins triggers uncontrollable spasms and intense arousal.
When he's extremely focused on reaching his destination, the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins enables him to run at an incredible pace, nearly twice as fast as a cheetah. He possesses exceptionally acute hearing, capable of detecting sounds from 20 ft (609.6 cm) away, including the faint footsteps of cats, which enables him to easily sense the presence of others. Initially, his endurance and stamina enabled him to withstand three times the normal amount of physical pain, recover from injuries 50% faster, and remain active for seven hours without fatigue. However, following his training with the Peregrine Falcons Squad, his endurance and stamina have improved significantly. He can now tolerate extreme physical stress, recover from injuries in just one to two hours, and sustain himself for up to five days without rest.
Hobbies: Phoning his Mama, frequenting karaoke bars, smoking his neon-coloured, floral-patterned bong off work, collecting funky animal figurines and vinyl records of his favourite albums, and creating new rock-inspired musical compositions either by himself or in collaboration with Allen Jr.
Likes: Trying on pretty dresses, letting Tyra put makeup on him and paint his nails, the call sounds of laughing kookaburras, the necklace his older half-sister gave him, and spending an entire day off work watching nature documentaries and writing music reviews
Dislikes: When others poke fun of his accent and use of Australian slang, his fleshy tendrils being caressed during battle, being viewed as an impulsive moron, gender norms, and jungles
Favourite food: Grilled kangaroo covered in gravy and caramelised onions
Sexuality: Bicurious, heteroromantic demisexual
Gender: Male
Age: 11 (in 2022), 17 (in 2028), 19 (in 2030), 21 (in 2032), 23 (in 2034), 30 (in 2041), 32 (in 2043), 33 (in 2044), and 36 (in 2047)
Blood type: AB-
Weight: 183 lbs. (83 kg)
Design: He’s a 7 ft (213.36 cm) Greek-Australian ectomorph with a wiry build, an inverted triangular body type, slightly elongated limbs, sloping shoulders, and decently chiselled muscles that bulge unnervingly when he flexes. He has dark green eyes, golden beige skin, and brownish freckles scattered across his face, chest, and hands. Additionally, hidden behind his standard teeth lies a row of razor-sharp, carnivorous ones. He sports the same hairstyle as Walter’s card from Metal Slug Advance, but his hair is a glossy raisin black with neatly tapered sideburns that fade out halfway down. Shortly after he started dating Tyra, she painted his nails with aquamarine nail polish and did his makeup, applying fan shape steel blue eyeshadow, brownish-black mascara, and soft peach lip gloss.
He has the same cybernetic prosthetic as Marco, but it replaces his right arm and doesn't include the gilded blade. He bears several scars, mostly obtained during the Survival Island Occupation: a cut from beside his left nostril to the centre of his chin; two bullet wounds on his left deltoid; a graze wound on his left knee; a gnarled slash on the top of his left forearm, curving slightly towards the end; bite marks on his left forearm; and multiple healed scratches and skin-picking scars on his left upper arm, shoulder, and thighs. He has a tattoo featuring a vertical mauve to dusty rose to blue-grey gradient, situated just below his collarbone. The tattoo reads "Πάθει μάθος" (páthei máthos), a Greek phrase that translates to "learning through suffering”. He has a tattoo on his left lumbar region, depicting a horned viper coiled around a rotten red apple, ready to strike.
His military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with his name, reseda green leather wristbands, a sinopia belt with a snap-on bronze buckle, a sheath for his combat knife, and a holster for his handgun. He sports a Pacific cyan vest with four pockets, its original P.F. Squad logo on the back having been replaced by the Division 6 insignia. He wears an olivine T-shirt with a ripped right sleeve, featuring a golden-red phoenix centred on the front, its head turned to the right. The phoenix has outstretched wings, a black beak, eagle-like feet, and an emerald green eye. He wears dark green, greyish-brown, and charcoal camouflage army cargo pants, which are tucked into the same boots worn by Walter Ryan in Metal Slug Advance.
The pockets of Walter’s vest carry around a pinkish-white vape adorned with light yellow teardrop seeds that impart a vanilla strawberry flavour, an amber jewel with a bright sheen (a gift from Tyra), a white gold stick of raspberry champagne lip chap, and a butterfly knife. It also carries a photograph of his Mama with a toddler version of himself, sucking his thumb and shyly looking away from the camera, taken on a sunny day at Poipu Beach.
Over his T-shirt, he dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. His left forearm is wrapped in a dirty gauze bandage, and a rust-coloured bandolier is slung over his right shoulder, holding bullets for his handgun. Walter carries a sinopia load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a RMb-93, a Shotgun, and a couple of paradummies. His backpack even carries a maximum blue purple Yamaha SHS-10, a Paris green sound-cancelling, bluetooth headset, a cellphone with a metallic purple case, and a metallic purple rectangular case filled with coloured pencils in every hue of the rainbow.
It contains a Drop Shot modified by Tarma, which fires bouncing landmines that explode upon contact with fabric and travel far distances of up to 18 ft (548.64 cm), and is combined with a heavy machine gun. It also contains his diary, bound in worn alligator skin and marked with a phthalo blue silk ribbon, filled with his most intimate thoughts and feelings, observant sketches of his surroundings, and illustrations of the disturbing hallucinations that plague him.
He has three piercings: yellowish-green snake bite piercings; a white gold nostril hoop piercing on the right; a metallic blue horizontal barbell piercing above his left eyebrow; and purple-tinted silver tassels that adorn medium-sized gold hoop earrings. Walter wears a personalised friendship bracelet featuring Dilovar's name in letter beads, accompanied by alternating turquoise, amethyst, and yellow-orange beads. He wears a black cord necklace featuring a sapphire boomerang-shaped pendant, adorned with two thin zigzag stripes in yellow-orange, a gift from his older half-sister when he turned 15.
Character summary: He's a troubled and quick-tempered individual searching for his life's purpose, who excels at creating distractions through clever misdirection, verbal deception, and unorthodox tactics like animalistic sounds and decoys. After being mute for nine years of his life, he has developed a tendency to be overly talkative and expressive, often unintentionally interrupting others. Whenever he feels emotionally overwhelmed, he tends to exhibit self-soothing behaviours, such as biting his forearms, scratching himself or picking at his skin. He's surprisingly laid-back and easygoing, always supportive of his comrades and friends as he adapts seamlessly to any situation without complaint. He occasionally needs some persuasion to take action, particularly when concerns about potential risks or negative outcomes hold him back.
He's a bit of a mama's boy, evident in his weekly phone calls with his mother and occasional returns home to stay with her when he’s feeling emotionally drained. It really annoys him when people call him a "mama's boy” because he doesn't want to be perceived as weak and overly dependent on his mother. He calls his mother frequently, driven by a deep love for her and a persistent fear of losing her unexpectedly. The thought of her loss would plunge him into profound despair and existential crisis. He’s a charming and flirtatious feminist, often complimenting women and offering them physical comfort and words of encouragement. He feels more at ease in the company of women, finding their presence enjoyable and aesthetically pleasing, which is why he tends to seek out their company over socialising with groups of men.
He's an extroverted and slightly sarcastic rebel who boldly stands up for what he believes in, refusing to remain silent when something doesn't feel right or his loved ones are made to feel uncomfortable or threatened. Yet, his unfiltered honesty can sometimes come across as blunt and abrasive, occasionally landing him in confrontations. He's an endearingly curious and affectionate person who possesses a childlike enthusiasm for the things that thrill him, especially when it comes to upcoming vacations, quality time with loved ones, action-packed moments, and the latest music drops. Compared to most people in the Regular Army, he stands out as a hardcore party enthusiast, finding parties to be an exhilarating escape from the stresses of daily life. He's deeply passionate about indie, J-pop, rock, punk, grunge, dubstep, and electronica music, his loved ones, and animals, and he thoroughly enjoys discussing these interests with others.
He has zero tolerance for hypocrisy, food and resource waste, littering, dishonesty, animal cruelty, domestic violence, and the mistreatment of women and girls, considering these behaviours to be utterly unacceptable and destructive. He harbours sneaking suspicions about the Regular Army, particularly regarding the disregard many special operatives show for the innocence of individuals affiliated with the enemy. However, he keeps his concerns to himself to avoid creating tension for the special forces units he cares about. Walter has a tendency to become vengeful, confrontational, aggressive, and intimidating when he feels strongly wronged or his anger is justified. He often appears to be dismissive, standoffish, and condescending toward individuals he personally dislikes and doesn’t trust.
He has a tendency to act impulsively, often driven by the rapid escalation of tension and excitement. He usually jumps into battles without hesitation when he believes they will bring him closer to achieving his goal of true worth. He lacks some common sense, leading to inappropriate questions, misread social cues, interrupting others, and difficulties following instructions, even when they’re relatively straightforward. He also tends to mispronounce words, take unwise shortcuts, and overlook warning signs when dealing with individuals who hide their harmful intentions behind superficial kindness.
He takes immense pride in his singing voice, fueled by numerous compliments about its beauty and power, yet the attention it brings makes him feel painfully shy and uncomfortable in the spotlight. He hates the idea of fame because it causes him immense stress due to the prospect of unwanted attention and constant scrutiny. He becomes flustered when a woman or close friend compliments him, and he particularly dislikes it when people insult or poke fun at his enjoyment of traditionally “feminine” interests. He absolutely despises it when people look through his diary, considering it a blatant invasion of his privacy. When he's had too much to drink, he becomes hyperactive, argumentative, careless, and flirtatious, and his usual self-deprecating, anti-authoritarianism humour turns nonsensical and lighthearted.
He lives with atypical depression, PTSD, anorexia nervosa, white knight syndrome, and undiagnosed paranoid schizophrenia. Although he has paranoid schizophrenia, he doesn’t experience delusions, but he does experience hallucinations, which he has become desensitised to over time, and they now rarely cause him visible distress. He sees himself as a burden and a coward, overly reliant on others, and believes he's unworthy of the good fortune and happiness he has. He struggles with intense feelings of failure and worthlessness when he can't protect loved ones. Jungles evoke traumatic memories of the Survival Island Occupation, fueling his deep-seated fear of becoming lost, suffering the brutal loss of his friends, and being exploited as a sacrifice. While he'll initially refuse a mission that takes place in or primarily involves operating in a jungle, he'll quickly agree if Tyra, Dilovar or Roberto offer even the slightest bit of persuasion.
He secretly admires Marco for his significant contributions to the Peregrine Falcons Squad's successes, having heard many inspiring stories about him during his cadet days. He views Eri as a protective older sister and regards Roberto as the older brother he never had, despite being his distant cousin. He's good friends with Trevor, often doing graffiti in abandoned buildings or smoking weed and talking about random things. He's also on good terms with Nadia, enjoying food challenges, beach trips, and shopping sprees together, and he likes to try out different outfits she suggests for him. He absolutely despises Gimlet and frequently clashes with him over his unwanted advances on Tyra and his racist, sexist, and sanist bullying of many people, including cadets. However, a small part of him respects Gimlet for his role in the Arms Deal Barrage and empathises with his struggles with substance abuse.
Walter loves his adopted Martian son, Pocke, with the devotion of a caring father. He'll stop at nothing to keep him safe, and enjoys showering him with attention through conversation, playtime, and gentle affection. Pocke's silly antics and curiosity have captured his heart, but his tendency to knock things off the counter and pick up potentially hazardous objects can be slightly maddening. He has three pets that he deeply cherishes, which he bought after saving enough money following the Invader Conquest: Spawo, a Moluccan cockatoo; Maristela, a sunset ball python; and Zeph, an agouti Siberian Husky with heterochromatic eyes (green on the right and amber on the left). He dislikes it when people try to teach Spawo naughty words as it always embarrasses him when his cockatoo annoyingly repeats the same word she learned throughout the day.
Dilovar is his closest friend and he thoroughly enjoys spending time with him, appreciating his quirky humour, lively nature, comforting presence, and awe-inspiring determination. He has a brotherly relationship with Dilovar, marked by occasional heated disputes and good-natured joking. However, he either finds Dilovar's flamboyant, playful, and joking suggestions and antics that are directed towards him to be arousing or unsettling. Initially, he clashed with Tyra, perceiving her as overly confident, showy, and disturbingly cold. Despite this, he maintained a level of respect for her, largely driven by his disgust at the idea of mistreating a woman. He was also aware of her reputation for being merciless and aggressively aloof towards those who crossed her, so he made a conscious effort not to push her boundaries. His true motivation for initiating a short-lived rivalry with Tyra was rooted in jealousy, wanting to surpass her fearlessness in combat and wilderness survival.
As they opened up and formed a platonic bond that blossomed into romance, he became increasingly protective of Tyra, often going out of his way to help her, even when she was capable of handling things on her own. His gratitude for her unwavering support, combined with his admiration of her stunning physical beauty and military prowess, fueled his growing devotion and deepened his strong romantic feelings for her. He’s incredibly affectionate towards Tyra, frequently showering her with physical affection and well-meaning compliments. He often hugs her tightly, rubs his face against hers, and showers her with love through various types of kisses, ranging from a gentle peck on the cheek to a passionate French kiss. He's quick to listen and back down when she verbally tells him to or shoots him a sharp, serious glare. He sometimes gets into heated arguments with Tyra over things they disagree on or when he does something foolish. However, he occasionally doesn't bother to fight back because he finds her intimidating when she's really angry. Instead, he’ll often give her some space after they're done arguing.
He’s a utilitarian who believes that people should not dwell on the consequences of their actions because the results only occur in the future. Instead, he thinks they should focus on happiness, which is the only intrinsic value that matters in determining our goodness or wickedness in life. He believes that actions causing unhappiness are wrong and that everyone's happiness deserves equal consideration when making decisions. He advocates for the right to self-defence, even when it may result in harm to others, particularly when faced with a genuine and immediate threat. Furthermore, he believes that proportionate defensive measures are justified against entities that violate the principle of non-aggression and pose a threat to others. He believes that the cycle of life and death are interconnected and that if one were to suddenly vanish or become overpowered, the equilibrium of the universe would collapse in on itself.
Backstory: Walter Evangelos Mulryan was born on February 14, 2011 in Rockhampton, Australia. His mother, Chloe Mulryan, whom he refers to as Mama, was once a mercenary for the Regular Army before retiring to start a family, and later became a geologist and avid adventurer. He has a Portuguese stepfather, Valério Medeiros, a construction manager who was a former member of the Serapion Fellowship who defected due to their morally reprehensible beliefs and practices, including brainwashing and human exploitation. He has two half-sisters: Lúcia Medeiros, his older half-sister and a fashion designer, and Betânia Medeiros, his younger half-sister and a dermatologist. He has a maternal aunt, whom he affectionately calls Auntie, who would often babysit him and read him books about nature and Australian history. He has a distant cousin on his father's side, Roberto, whom he first met at a family gathering in Portugal.
He often describes Mama as "one wild lady" and cherished their adventure-filled times together. However, she had a tendency to baby him excessively and shower him with disproportionate attention. When Mama was away, he would spend hours with his half-sisters, Lúcia and Betânia. They would dress him up in pretty dresses, apply makeup, and share their aspirations with him. Lúcia would tell Walter stories about her crushes, school dramas, and lessons from her courses. He felt uneasy being around his stepfather, who treated him and his half-sisters with a stern, militaristic demeanour. Valério was disproportionately strict with him, largely because he was the product of an extramarital affair. He describes Auntie as similar to Fio in terms of her demeanour, but she leans more towards conspiracy theories, and she's notably more aggressive and confrontational when defending her loved ones.
He was once extremely shy and heavily reliant on Mama, which frustrated his stepfather, who did his best to encourage self-reliance. However, his efforts were often in vain, as Walter would frequently ignore his encouragement, instead isolating himself in his room for hours until dinner or spending most of his time outdoors. When Walter turned 3, his stepfather's frustration sometimes boiled over into physical punishment or verbal belittling. This traumatic treatment left him fearful of speaking up, causing him to become mute. During this period, he learned sign language and discovered a natural musical gift, exhibiting talent in playing the guitar and keyboard, and emerging as a budding prodigy. Despite being shy, he struggled with anger issues, lashing out at his peers during playground and school interactions, frequently getting into fights and physically intimidating others, which landed him in frequent trouble.
At a New Year's Eve party, Walter, who had been mute for nine years, surprisingly spoke up, asking where Mama was, marking a turning point in his journey toward self-confidence and self-reliance. The entire family was stunned, having lost hope that he would ever regain his voice. However, Valério remained skeptical, attributing his mutism to attention-seeking behaviour and a lack of courage to assert his independence. This action would earn his stepfather a sliver of respect and pride, despite viewing Walter as an unwanted burden and a stain on his marriage to Chloe. Shortly after this moment, he would receive a diary as a gift from his Mama.
He endured school bullying for being different, struggling with self-reliance, and having interests that didn't align with traditional masculinity. He tried to focus on his studies and ignore the bullying, but the constant harassment often proved too much, leading him to lash out verbally or physically in self-defence on multiple occasions. A schoolyard scuffle would lead him to inadvertently discovering his imperfect clone abilities in secondary school. During an altercation, a girl kicked him in the groin, causing him to double over in pain. As he did, his hidden skin flaps and fleshy tendrils were exposed. In that moment, he unintentionally crushed the girl who had hurt him to death, which left him visibly shaken. After that, people saw him as a freak of nature and were terrified, including his small group of friends, who went out of their way to avoid him at all costs.
At the age of 13, he learned from his mother that he was an imperfect clone of a Greek man, conceived through in vitro fertilisation using his father's sperm and bioengineered DNA. The Australian government had supposedly conducted a simple cloning experiment to determine whether cloned babies would be healthier than those conceived naturally. Chloe was one of the willing participants, but once the experiment concluded, no research studies were published, leading her and the other women to believe it was a clandestine financial scheme. Walter was meant to have a twin brother, but his brother tragically died in the womb. This revelation made him realise that it seemingly contributed to Valério’s animosity toward him and the fear others harboured regarding his existence.
Over the next few years, Walter developed white knight syndrome due to repeated abandonment by friends, unsuccessful pursuit of romantic love and exploitation by partners he tried to help. Feeling inhuman and unimportant, exacerbated by his stepfather's emotional unavailability and mother's increasing absence, further eroded his self-worth. Additionally, bullying related to his physical appearance and societal beauty standards contributed to body dysmorphia, ultimately leading to anorexia nervosa. The cumulative stress, exacerbated by his stepfather's neglect and stringent expectations, coupled with the recent traumatic loss of his Auntie in a car accident, triggered symptoms consistent with paranoid schizophrenia, but no official diagnosis has been made. Amidst this turmoil, he found solace in playing the guitar and keyboard, singing, nature documentaries, and the support of his two half-sisters.
By the time he was in grade 11, he dropped out of high school during a difficult period of depression in the winter. Struggling to find direction in life, he experienced a crisis that led him to consider harming himself. One night, while contemplating jumping off the Neville Hewitt Bridge, a group of passersby noticed him and intervened, offering support and persuading him to reconsider. These delinquents would take Walter in, understanding his struggles and making him feel accepted, giving him hope of finding purpose in life.
From that point on, he became involved in crime, committing illicit activities such as car break-ins, vandalism, credit card fraud, and physical altercations. He also began to express his individuality through tattoos and piercings. Additionally, he developed an interest in self-defence, studying Krav Maga, and physical fitness, practicing callisthenics. He and his newfound friends started a hip-hop alternative rock band with Walter as the lead singer, which slowly grew in popularity. During a wild party at a friend's house, he developed a barbiturate addiction, had a reckless encounter with a prostitute, and received his first bong: a neon-coloured, floral-patterned one that he still treasures. Walter eventually abandoned his rock band due to his struggles with a barbiturate addiction, overwhelming fan expectations, and unwanted attention. Fans, particularly young girls who found him attractive, male peers jealous of his talent, and harsh critics, added to the pressure.
After a near-fatal drug overdose and being sent to juvenile detention for the third time, Walter's stepfather intervened, urging him to turn his life around or face homelessness. With support from Lúcia, Betânia and his Mama, Walter entered drug rehabilitation and overcame his barbiturate addiction. While caring for the household, seeking employment, and being homeschooled by his Mama and Lúcia, Walter discovered an online recruitment ad for the Peregrine Falcons Squad at age 18. Seeing this as his calling, he volunteered without hesitation, promising his mother he'd stay in touch via phone on a weekly basis.
After earning decent grades on the written tests, he enlisted in the P.F. Squad, joined by five former delinquent friends—Ivanhoe, Maximilian, Brody, Rylan, and Uriah—who sought a renewed sense of purpose and the opportunity to protect others. However, his reputation as an imperfect clone, combined with his ill temper and harsh treatment of those he disliked or distrusted, made it challenging for others to approach or trust him. His temper was notoriously volatile, frequently leading to cafeteria fights, where he and his friends would overpower their fellow cadets who dared to provoke him. On rare occasions, these altercations nearly turned fatal. As a result, his former drill instructor, known for being exceptionally strict, isolated him and his friends from the rest of the group and placed them into the "misfit batch”, alongside Dilovar and Tyra.
During training, he befriended Dilovar after a lively conversation about their shared enthusiasm for military service, bonding over beers and a weed break. He struggled to trust Tyra due to her overconfidence and aloof demeanour, which sparked jealousy when he witnessed her fearlessness during training exercises. This led to a rivalry between them, with both striving to outdo the other in the intense training courses. Their competitions frequently ended with either Tyra emerging victorious or a tie, but these encounters gradually fostered a strong friendship and deep mutual respect. Despite this, his time in the P.F. Squad helped him hone his skills in paradummy tactics and better control his imperfect clone abilities. Through their rigorous training programs, he discovered a community of trustworthy peers, developed self-confidence in his physical prowess and mental resilience, and became more laid-back and open to forming lasting, loyal relationships.
Initially hesitant to participate in the final P.F. Squad training program, he harboured a nagging feeling that something would go terribly wrong. However, with Dilovar's reassuring words of encouragement and Tyra's playful teasing about being a coward, he pushed aside his doubts and joined the others in the final training course. After being dropped off at a remote South Pacific archipelago by boat, Walter reunited with his friends from Australia and teamed up with Tyra. Together, they ventured deep into the jungle, discovering a clearing with a nearby freshwater stream, where they constructed makeshift shelters centred around a communal campfire.
While searching for Tyra, who had vanished during a hunting expedition, he stumbled upon a suspicious blood trail. It led him to an encampment of Rebel Army cadets, where he found Tyra and aided her in defending herself against them. Later that day, he stumbled upon the lifeless bodies of Ivanhoe, Maximilian, Brody, Rylan, and Uriah beside the stream, victims of a deadly ambush by Rebel Infantrymen and cadets who had seized their weaponry and equipment. The trauma of losing the people who had first welcomed him triggered a debilitating mental breakdown. Fortunately, Tyra was by his side during this incident, and her kindness and support deepened his affection for her, revealing a warmer side of her that captivated him.
He didn’t hesitate to charge forward, driven to uncover his true worth while exacting vengeance on the Rebel Army for their past transgressions. As Tyra searched for a radio tower, Walter focused on finding Formor and stumbled upon an abandoned building in a destroyed site, surrounded by discarded military vehicles and a functional SV-001. Inside, he saw Amadeus Syndicate scientists collecting body parts from the mutilated corpses of Rebel bodyguards and P.F. Squad cadets, but Walter swiftly retreated before they detected him. Later, while navigating a village of South Pacific P’isqu Runakuna huts, he encountered and battled a couple of frenzied creatures resembling mantis and simian monsters. To his dismay, they turned out to be transformed fellow cadets and Intelligence Agency agent hostages.
During his journey, he fell into a trap set by Allen O'Neil, who had disguised himself as one of his drill instructors. Allen O'Neil had deliberately misled him, ordering him to press onward under the pretense of stopping the Rebel threat. He was swiftly captured by the P’isqu Runakuna ("bird people" in Quechua), who planned to sacrifice him to Itzamná. This was after Allen O'Neil had brainwashed them into believing Walter was a worthy candidate to appease their god. In the altar room, the P’isqu Runakuna meticulously prepared their sacrificial ritual. They fed and cleaned Walter before securing him to a stake placed before an ancient statue of Itzamná. Then, they carefully positioned poison-spewing maggots on his body, which would later leave him with a lasting fear of larvae. Just as the sacrifice was about to begin, Dilovar and Hyakutaro peacefully intervened, rescuing Walter and joining forces with the natives to combat the Rebel Army.
During a chase to confront Logan, who was piloting Karn and leading his platoon, Walter was attacked by a flamethrower soldier, severely burning his right arm. The pain distracted him, and he was quickly overwhelmed by a group of six Rebel Infantrymen, including the flamethrower soldier, who viciously taunted him for not keeping a close eye on Tyra and mocked him for being a poor excuse for a soldier. A shielded soldier, wielding a machete, brutally attacked Walter, chopping off his right arm and causing him to scream in agony. This alerted Allen Jr., who rushed to his rescue and slaughtered all the soldiers pinning Walter down before they could inflict any further torture. With Allen Jr.'s assistance and encouragement, he was forced to temporarily retreat and receive urgent medical assistance from Rumi. Consumed by rage and a desire for vengeance, Walter fatally shot Logan with a Shotgun after he attempted to escape the destroyed Karn, avenging Tyra's kidnapping and harm.
Shortly after the Survival Island Occupation, he graduated with the highest honours alongside Tyra and Dilovar. He then joined Division 6 after Hyakutaro extended an invitation to him, and he rose to the rank of Sergeant Major. Later, Tarma built him a cybernetic prosthetic, which he greatly appreciates. During a mission to thwart a pirate raid on a cargo ship carrying valuable Regular Army military weapons and biotech, he unexpectedly reunited with Roberto, whom he thought he'd never see again.
#writerscorner#creative writing#writing#iron eclipse au#metal slug#snk#gaming community#rework#redesign#name#alias#job#skills#abilities#power#hobby#likes and dislikes#food#sexuality#gender#age#blood type#weight#personality#backstory#walter ryan
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MobLand EP1 Review
I am left slack-jawed. Frozen. Eyes widened in shock.



It started with a bang-bang-bang followed by the adrenaline rush of the sweet escape from the neverending chase of chaos.
The pilot episode held my attention and had it in a grip throughout its duration. At the show's start, I immediately caught on to what was happening—who these people were, what was the deal with them, their businesses and their relation to one another, especially Harry and what he does. He's a layered character who's extremely organised and has everything in his life compartmentalised. No need for a background of anything as a new viewer.
I also enjoyed the humourous moments that naturally sprouted. I was cracking up at the first parts and on the latter parts, all the joy was wiped out. I liked the natural pyramidal progression of the storyline.
Can't bloody trust anyone in that business. Not even your own family! Speaking of families, I also liked the part where Harry was with his wife, Jan, and their daughter. See, Da Souza's great at his job and at talking business and making business happen, but he SUCKS at communicating with his wife. They seem explosive and Jan seems extremely patient with Harry. If they have a heart to heart talk, I feel like it'll always end up with them in an argument. There's no baring his neck, not even to his wife. No vulnerability. He has to stay on-guard all the time (understandably so). But my god does this man meets Jan halfway. He puts an effort when he can. As he should.
It's all so delicate. Everything and everyone are within reach. Harry gets things done. He stands on business. But so easily, he could get fucked over esp by the Harrigans and practically anyone else. God, the Harrigans are a mess. Then again, what's a family if there isn't any drama?
Da Souza's ability to command a situation is admirable and impressive. None of that corny gruffiness. Just light, straight to the point, and conversational. Always keeping his unnerving coolness and his proper manners when talking to others. His thank you's and please's. He doesn't negotiate. He sees into the future and knows how every choices end. He gives the best option to you and all you have to do is follow and you'll live another day with your limbs intact and your assets secured. Easy. Indeed, things do get resolved with proper communication.
Trust and betrayal are tightly intertwined just like Conrad and Maeve are. They are a great pair. Women truly are reliable, sensible, and logical when it comes to problem resolution. Men are simply an emotional mess. Maeve is Conrad's voice of reason, but that puts the power to her, because she can so easily fuck with his head which just left me slack-jawed. I like how she's got sharp senses and could tell if you're an imposter regardless if you soaked yourself in holy oil.
Started with a bang and ended with a bang. EP1 of MobLand absolutely slayed. I'm left wanting for more and still not knowing what to expect. I'm just here for the ride.
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god that event was so cool, and us philza viewers got FED. phil spending the time beforehand building his arsenal. phil staying away from the crowds and checking in with fit and etoiles throughout the dinner. immediately clocking the fact that "chayanne" and "tallulah" weren't actually his kids. phil lurking in the back of the room, watching everyone get on stage for the photo, talking to forever about how skeptical he is, and just barely seeing his "kids" go code before being knocked out by the crash.
coming back to chaos. the goddamn stream music as he went toe to toe with the imposter code monsters. chat going fucking ballistic with "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD." cellbit telling everyone else to back off so phil can one-v-one the monster impersonating his son and take revenge. forgetting all of his preparations and just going full-on, old-school pvp sweat mode while being assisted by etoiles, the only guy on the server who wants the code dead just as much as he does. getting in the final hit and getting to see Chayanne was slain by [CODE BREAKER] in chat.
the real tallulah and chayanne showing up. his kids hugging him and hugging each other and asking him if he's alright and him admitting that he's a "little shaken up" but he's just glad they're okay. taking them home, putting them into bed, and collapsing back into his chair like everything that's happened has just come rushing back, a tidal wave of exhaustion as the adrenaline crash and relief come down on him.
like. holy fuck.
#dont mind me im just rambling#qsmp dinner event#q!philza#this post is all over the place but HOLY FUCK that was so cool#my heart was GOING during that event jesus christ#qsmp philza
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What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader III
Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.
Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN, Attempt Suicide.
Viewers Discretion is advised.
Taglist: vante 🫶🏾
A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This chapter will contain attempt suicide.
2 months.
2 bloody months.
It’s been 2 months since yn found out about what jungkook does as a so called hobby.
He’s promised to let her roam around the house if need be and that he didn’t break.
The only thing was when he was at work or out of the house, he made sure she was in his office locked away from the eye.
Yn currently, was tired. Tired of being treated so nicely but so terribly at the the same time. He loves her but keeps her locked away. Why?
She swore she’d never tell a soul about anything that she has seen, as long as he lets her live peacefully, that is.
But, every day Jungkook left for work, Yn was thinking of different ways to get out. Being locked up the only way out was the window.
Residing on the 5th floor of the apartment building, the window was the only option. That was death awaiting her. Yn knew that.
But what else was left to live for? When your lover has had so many hidden lies, a life you never imagined. A life you assumed wasn’t even in his blood.
The signs were always there. But being so love yn ignored the flags.
Thinking maybe he just wants to make sure I am protected, maybe he wants to keep me safe.
This all was things she thought of plenty of times.
With a rush of adrenaline Yn went into thinking. Yes, the window is the only option, but she didn’t want to die. Maybe she could just break the window open and attempt to jump, maybe someone would see her and come help her right?
Without any other thinking she started punching at the window. Hurting yes, but the pain was washed away with the feeling of wanting to be free.
Yn continued to punch at the window seeing little cracks and not caring if her first and hands where covered in blood. She wanted out.
“One more hit..” she thought and with that one hit she heard the glass shatter and freedom was waiting for her.
Looking down she saw the ground and her heart dropped to her stomach. Would this really be the end? Al because of the being locked up? I mean he loves her, but it was suffocating.

Jungkook was smiling as he got out of his car with dinner and flowers. He stepped into the building and seen his neighbor standing at the front desk. He waved but she looked worried.
“Jungkook! Oh thank god your here! I think someone broke into your home! I headed glass shatter-“
Dashing to the elevator he aggressively pressed the button. “Fucking come on!” He yelled impatiently as if he didn’t just press the button 1 second ago.
He kicked the door and went for the emergency stairs. 5 cases of stairs? No problem. His heart was in his stomach but he swore he could hear it in his ears. She wouldn’t hurt herself to just get away from him would she? Of course not… or maybe Jungkook was wrong. What if someone broke in and oh god…
With that thought he finally reached the stairs and lucky for him there home was right next to the emergency exit. Jungkook quite literally kicked the door down and saw Bam barking at the office door.
“Baby! Baby are you in there?” He yelled through the door ,not hearing a response. Without thinking he kicked the door handle a few times and it fell to the ground.
Pushing the door open he entered the cold room and gasped.
Yn was sitting on the window frame backwards. Facing the door, well now him, Yn let a tear roll down her cheek. “Baby… whatever you are thinking about doing right now… we can talk it out, yeah? We don’t have to get hurt while doing this…” he calmly approaches her talking small but huge steps towards her.
The softness of his voice made her only want to lean back faster. “ we can’t talk, Jungkook. I’m done being in here…”, “ is that was this is about? Baby, I’ll stop locking you in here for good but please get down from the window…” at this point Jungkook was crying without even noticing he was crying.
“No! I want to be free I want to leave.” Yn stated and scooted back even more feeling the glass stab her in her hands and In the back of her thigh.
“Let me go…” she mumbled looking back at him and he froze.
“You-Your doing this… to leave me? Why aren’t I good to you?” He moved closer carefully, not wanting her to leave. “I don’t want to die! But if this is the only way to get away from you then I’m willing to take that risk…”
Without thinking Jungkook jumped and grabbed her pulling her off the window quickly which sent her into gasping feeling the glass that was in her thigh come out.
She didn’t fight she didn’t cry. What’s the point? Yn knew she wasn’t going to jump she loved her life but just didn’t like the part of this. She felt jungkook wrap her in his arms and he cried as loud as he ever cried.
It’s only begun, maybe she can use this as a way to get out of here? What if he went crazy and killed her himself? What if he actually pushed her out that window? So many thoughts ran through her head at the moment of being in his arms.
“Never say that again baby,” he looked at her tears dropping from his eyes to his cheeks, down to his shirt. “ I love you too much to loose you, why don’t you understand that?”
Maybe this was the end. Maybe this was just a sign to let her go in Jungkook eyes.
She was willing to kill herself then be with him…
He had a decision to make

#jungkook#bts jeongguk#jeon jungkook#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#hobisstar writes#jk x reader#jk ff#jungkook ff#jungkook yandere#yandere jungkook#bts yandere
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Misfit Toys
Chapter Six: Aftermath- Part One
he reached into his pocket taking out a knife. Twirling it in his hand for a second he then forcefully shoved it into the woman’s abdomen wiggling it a little just for fun before he then pulled it out the blood from her wound now staining her white button up as she groaned in pain saying “Y/N…you really..think..he can…protect you?” “It’s Minx!” Jerome shouted before swiftly kicking her chair off the desk and onto the floor. The wood hitting the ground with a great crash as he tossed her away to die slowly. Turning to me he smiled widely jokingly asking “Is it bad?” making me scoff saying “Nothing we can’t handle.” “Why don’t you do a little decorating while I deal with business.” he said, dropping off the desk. Grabbing a duffle bag near us he reached into it then he threw me some cans of spray paint. I nodded with a smile, taking the paint and going to the different walls. I covered the gcpd with little doodles words and whatever came to mind. Stars, hearts, smiling faces, ect. covered everything along with words like haha, liars and pigs. As I was graffitiing the palace I saw jerome pick up the camera that greenwood dropped on the floor and he started ranting to it. Sending his silly lessons and messages to its viewers as the others shot the people left still alive cleaning house. Guess they didn’t want survivors. Everyone stopped though when we heard distant sirens. “Time to go!” Jerome yelled out to everyone as he put down the camera and rushed over to me grabbing my hand and we both ran out the building and down the street into the same suv from before that came back to pick us up. Out of breath and my heart pounding in my chest I gave out a loud laugh. “Glad you had fun, doll.” Jerome said catching his breath still covered in blood and in his fake uniform “I liked your handy work back there. You’re a true artist.” he joked, making me smile. I knew that I should have probably been sad or traumatized but I didn’t. Maybe it was just the adrenaline but I felt alive. I felt electricity flowing through my veins and it was all thanks to Jerome. “Thank you.” I said putting my legs over his lap. “I’ll take care of your nose when we get back” I finished “Wow. An artist and a nurse. I must have hit the jackpot.” J retorted back laughing while I hit his shoulder. Afterwards both of us relaxed for the rest of the ride just being happy and comfortable sitting with each other.
#gotham x reader#gotham imagine#gotham#jerome valeska x reader#jerome valeska imagine#jerome valeska#jinx#jerome valeska fanfic#dark jeremiah valeska x reader#jeremiah valeska#jeremiah valeska imagine#jeremiah valeska x reader#jerome and jeremiah#jerome valeska xreader#jerome valeska x you#jerome valeska yandere#arcane x you#arcane netflix#arcane x reader#arcane jinx#jinx arcane
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