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riaki · 5 months

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after party | satoru gojo x reader

gojo wanted to help you prepare a friendsgiving dinner, but he's a little tired n a lot tipsy.

cw: non curse au, everyones alive, shoko typical smoking, drinking, you’re married to gojo wc: 3.3k

this was supposed to be short but it just spiraled n i kind of hate it b i technically posted on the 23rd so it counts !! not proofread!

business dinners with satoru are exhausting, to say the least—you start the day early to the scent of coffee through a filter and a fresh breeze through your open window, sending your husband off to work with a hug and a kiss—maybe a promise of more if he pulls the 'five more minutes!' on you.

this one is special, though; old friends from freely youthful highschool days gathered around your dinner table on the mats of your living room floor catching up over cans of beer cold with condensation, the sound of can tabs popping and the fizzling of bubbly spirits over tables of warm food in tin containers.

geto, the tall man with dark hair and gauges, talks about how his two daughters are adjusting to city life, occasionally interrupted by cheerful brightness never dampened by adult years from haibara, an apprenticing entrepeneur under nanami who's got a thing for girls with big appetites. shoko and utahime are having a drinking contest, and mei mei's too occupied with her phone; checking stocks as her tacky nails click against the glass screen.

satoru can't cook. there's a reason why he always buys takeout when you're too busy to provide or you've already gone to sleep— he should be the picture perfect husband, because you deserve that and everything more. his only (self-perceived) flaws are his lack of alcohol tolerance and his inability to master the frying pan.

you always tell him he doesn't have to be a michelin chef— but with the way he's constantly sneaking a chocolate graham cracker from your muji snack bag or snagging the sour gummy between your teeth from your lips, he feels like he should compensate. so on this special november evening, when the hum of the city life outside your balcony gets drowned out by the cheerful mirth of a warm dinner table, he had decided to help you.

the warm kitchen had become a foodstained disaster— but with tearful round eyes and a hand tugging on your shirt, you'd resigned to helping him conquer the task of simple packaged noodles and soft-boiled eggs. he'd cut his finger— even the most capable teacher found his shortcomings against a blunt kitchen knife. needless to say you'd peppered it with kisses before wrapping a rainbow hello kitty bandaid around it.

and that brings you to the present: the result of your extensively hard work; a few soggy noodles collected at the bottom of porcelain bowls painted red on the insides in a lukewarm puddle of soup, full stomachs and a loose and welcoming atmosphere. you wouldn't trade it for the world.

you're fishing a pickled radish slice out of your bowl when satoru leans over, removing the arm that was snaked around your shoulder to drape himself on your lap, lying down on the floor with his knees propped up and his soft cloud-white hair sprawled over your thighs. geto makes a distasteful face when satoru's black socks brush against his leg. across the table, shoko knocks shoulders with utahime as she lights a cigarette; the latter's face flushes as smoke drifts past her lightly flushed face into the open window city night air overhead.

"hey, you. what's up?" you asked softly, chuckling to yourself as you set your chopsticks atop the rim of your bowl, leaning back on your arms to look down at him. he adjusts himself a little, wiggling on your lap as you caught a whiff of his beer breath and scrunch your nose.

"hiii, baby," he drawls, giggling a little to himself. his smooth, usually playful voice took on that deep tone he used whenever he was being serious, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, so you hugged him closer and ran a hand through his soft white hair, brushing your fingers against the black cloth of his blindfold. "what'cha doing?"

"i was eating. you put too much pepper in the broth, 'toru." you smiled softly, tracing the line of his jaw slowly with one finger in the way you knew he liked so much; it was obvious from the way he sighed contentedly and tilted his head into your palm. whether it be from that unfathomably sweet smile or the tender way you held his face in your delicate hands, that was up to him to ponder. next to you, haibara makes a joke— something about mei mei's stocks, and she quips a snarky retort that has him laughing raucously while nanami makes a face.

"i tried!" he protests, almost a whine as he sighs; a hand sneaks up to lift the edge of his blindfold up so his eyes meet yours, and you're left breathless. it catches you off guard every time— those endless pools of swirling blue that stare straight through you, sifting through your thoughts like a scholar annotating an open book, all heart-shaped sticky notes and bright highlighters when it came to thinking about him.

"not hard enough, clearly. but it's okay; we'll do better next time."

he just frowns again at that, sticking out his lower lip in a little pout that makes your heart squeeze. your stomach is full with noodles and broth; you don't think you could stomach another bite if you tried, and you're not one to drink especially if everyone else is. so, you let yourself indulge a little— snake a hand on the back of satoru's neck and tilt him up until he's sitting halfway up and you can easily meet his lips in a kiss.

he reciprocates immediately, hungry like he was waiting for you; you notice that he hasn't eaten much of his food yet, so maybe he was. or maybe he knows how bad it is. either way, his tongue darts out from his parted lips to flick against your own for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and draws out a teasing whine that you have to stifle because "we have company, 'toru," you have to breath as a reminder. he just laughs breathily against your lips, tasting like bitter beer and buttery vanilla as he shifts to practically sit on top of you, hands on your shoulders as his thumbs brush over your collarbone where the edge of your shirt fails to cover tantalizing skin; he's taller and eventually ends up bringing the both of you toppling down onto the mats.

your back hits the floor and a little gasp leaves your winded lungs— but satoru eagerly catches it with his lips and swallows it, like he's intent on getting drunken off his ass from you (as if he wasn't already tipsy) when he smashes his swollen lips to yours again. your hair is splayed out against the tatami mats like you're trapped in some marine watercolor painting, and for a split second satoru thinks if mermaids were real you'd be the most angelic he'd ever seen as his calloused fingers curl into the strands.

you're about to hook a leg around his waist when a shout catches your ear and you part lips with a gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as satoru promptly sits on your stomach. you let out a stuffed oomph from his weight, and watch as he slides his blindfold back on to look over at the rest of the table who're staring at the two of you like they're watching some forbidden steamy movie scene that's meant to be shielded from children's eyes.

“don’t kiss him while he’s drunk. it’s like rewarding a brat for bad behavior,” shoko says. you sit up with much effort, straining under satoru’s weight as you reach up to grab his shoulders. you miss, but he takes your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling back down as you rest your head on his shoulder. utahime has her arms lazily draped over shoko; you assume she’s drunk from that, but if you were to inspect her for long enough you’d notice her can of beer was almost completely full.

“oh, i guess you’re right.” you remarked, frowning a little and biting the inside of your cheek as you pull away from satoru and glance at him. all of the sudden he looks like he’s ready to keel over; the shadows beneath his eyes are reinforced by the alcohol in his system and it looks like he’ll need to tape his eyes open lest he passes out right on top of you. you want to avoid that, so you gently push him off, sighing to yourself.

“don’t listen to her, sweetheart. you can kiss me all you want,” he smirks, a flash of pearly white teeth that would’ve been on your neck a moment ago if not for the interruption. you just shake your head with a breathless laugh, giving him a quick flick to the forehead. before you can pull away, though— he catches your hand, bringing your wrist to his glossy pink lips and giving your pulse a quick peck. “no, she has a point.” you hummed. overhead, the light flickers a little; a moth that had flown in through the window danced about the bulb. the faint sound of car horns filters through the window along with the breeze, recycled laughter and lively chatter from bars a few stories down carried in the cool wind.

you mill about for another twenty minutes or so, content to just listen in as old friends shared anecdotes and funny stories from separate paths of life; you soon learned that nanami was planning on moving to malaysia, and shoko was due to renew her medical license this year. the beer cans built up, mixed in with crumpled napkins that had penned doodles on the rough surface and paper chopstick wrappers. somewhere along the line, satoru had fallen asleep— you had to push his unfinished ramen bowl out of the way before he knocked his head against the wooden table and spilt his meal. you frowned a little at the sight of it— you knew he'd complain about his soaked noodles and limp seaweed sheets later on. you found yourself slinging one of your jackets over his shoulders, fingers lingering over his neck, where the scratchy hair of his undercut met soft warm skin.

soon enough, dishes are piling up in the sink and calling your name; the kids see themselves home via train station, spouting something about a late night pit stop in sendai for the mochi that 'our teacher likes so much'. you consider asking them to bring some back for satoru, but you decide you'll enjoy a laugh when he tells you about how he went to school the next morning to find out for himself, and the stab of hurt that will pierce his full heart in two when he hears the news. even then, you have to shush them as they show themselves out; you can tell from the way satoru's eyebrows knit together beneath his blindfold and the pinch of his jaw that he doesn't appreciate the noise, no matter how blacked out.

the conversation dies down a little, and soon enough, everyone takes their leave one by one. it's only when you settle back down after cleaning up the bowls and putting away the cups that satoru stirs, waking up with a mumble and a huff. his hair is a disheveled mess, and there are sleep lines on his face, but he's still handsome as ever.

"baby?" his voice is hoarse with sleep and dehydration. there's a dull ache between his eyes, feeling like he'd just ran a circle around the world. you answer from the kitchen, calling his name. it's late; past midnight now. the window's still open and satoru's can of beer is still on the table, almost completely empty.

"how long did i sleep? shit, did everyone go home? 'm sorry," he groans, standing up and stretching his arms out. his shirt rides up on his shoulders, exposing the arch of his hip just above the edge of his pants. "don't worry, 'toru." you hummed, washing your hands in the sink as you look over at him. he just nods, grabbing the can and crumpling it in his hands before tossing it in the trash.

"you okay? got a headache?" you asked as he walked over to you, careful not to hit his head on the arch that connected the living room to the kitchen. when you'd first moved in with him, you had to pin a strip of bright yellow caution tape to remind him to duck his head. you smiled as you reminisced over late nights, tucked in his arms as he mused about demolishing the wall there just so he could be rid of the bruise on his temple. then again, as long as you were waiting for him to kiss it better at the end of his nine to five, he didn't mind.

he nods, and watches as an easy smile stretches across your lips; they look infuriatingly kissable under the warm glow of the hazy kitchen light, shining off the porcelain cups in the sink. he leans against the kitchen counter, cold marble feeling through the thin fabric of his shirt as you take his leftovers from the fridge and heat them up in the microwave, standing before the black glass as you watch the little plate spin inside.

there's something about moments like these; so sweet and easy with you after everyone's taken the last train home and all that's left are empty beer cans and extra bowls in the dishwasher for two people with matching rings on their fingers to take care of.

he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chin. he smiles when he feels your hand cup his cheek, and he turns his head instinctively to meet your lips in a slow, sweet kiss; a muscle memory tango between familiar lovers. when he pulls away to catch his breath, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, you're already there with your fingers, pulling his blindfold down to rest around his neck and gently rubbing the spot beside his eyes, alleviating the tension behind them. it's unspoken moments like these that he loves the most in your relationship. making a mess in your kitchen is a close second.

it's a slow, easy night after a special get-together when the microwave beeps and you take his noodles out, bringing them to the table as you sit down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his side as he gets a bit of breaded tonkotsu crumbs on his cheek and insists you wipe them off for him like he's some oversized baby. you wash some cherries in a green plastic bowl, competing to see who can spit the pits into the trashcan without missing. in the end, he lost the game of rock paper scissor and was resigned to pick up the missed pits on the floor.

he's still wearing your jacket like a cape and even though it's far too small for him, he insists on keeping it with him when you go out onto your balcony to finish the last of a bottle of sake together, listening to the melody of the wind in the trees that line the sidewalk and the permeating hustle and bustle of the city, even when it's so late at night it could be considered early morning.

he swipes the cold bottle from your hands, finishing the last drops from the matte glass before letting it dangle between your fingers. and you're expecting it when he catches your arm to pull you into another kiss; he tastes like peaches and wine and a little bit of soup broth. it's slow, and easy, because being with him has always felt as natural as breathing, and being with you has made it easier for him to breathe, like the iron weight on his lungs melts away in the face of your unconditional warmth and care. the cool wind blows your hair in front of your face, and he laughs that charming boyish giggle as he tucks it behind your ears and scoops you up in his arms.

"i don't like sharing you with a sake bottle," you said, pointedly looking at the glass in his hand. he just grins, looking down at you for a moment. he can almost see it again; you, in that gorgeous white wedding cloth. he was carrying you bridal style in the same way now, when you'd decided to grow old together and host special business dinners as a couple in your shared apartment.

"don't worry, love. you're sweeter than any spritz," he laughs, stepping inside again and closing the door behind him.

it's routine, and it's easy, getting ready for bed with him, laughing when he pushes his hair back with a headband, looking like a pretty little princess. you suggest him getting a mullet, and he shushes you by shoving your toothbrush on your tongue, getting a mouthful of mint. the warm water rushes over your fingers before you dry yourself off, wiping your face and putting the towel away only to be met with the equal warmth of his lips on your forehead, peppering you with kisses.

you slip into the covers, still pleasantly cold as you watch satoru sit up and take his shirt off. he lets you peel the rainbow bandaid on his finger off, tossing it in the trash before pulling you into his arms, right where you belong the closest to his heart. "don't cut yourself like that again, okay?"

"it was an accident, baby." he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes. he reaches over to ruffle your hair affectionately and makes a joke about having you suck his blood like a vampire, tooting about how sweet it would be. "besides, i don't need to be careful if you're there to patch me up, pretty. shoko has nothing on you!"

he plays with your hair as you catch him up to the conversations he'd slept away; mei mei had left early when you'd given him your jacket to envelope him in your scent, muttering something about cheap perfume and worthless soggy noodles. he likes to play with your jewelry, you notice— fiddles with the ring on your finger, cupping your hands in his palm as he tucks his face into the back of your neck.

at one point, he asks you to do his hair, so you oblige, rolling him over onto his stomach and clambering on top of his waist. you braid his white strands into cute little pigtails best as you could manage as he tells you about his dream; something about harassing nanami in malaysia and a sunset kiss under crystal clear beach water. it sounds nice, and when you're done with his hair you find it easier to just massage his shoulders and listen to the smooth droning of his voice.

soon enough, you're both warmer than the lukewarm buzz of beer in your veins, and he doesn't remember if he fell asleep first or not, but the gentle melody of your voice haunts him in his dazed sleep as he curls around you.

business dinners really are exhausting— he's left wondering how you pull it off the morning after when he's hungover and the cut on his finger is infected— clearly, the hello kitty bandaid wasn't enough to cut it. the only reasoning that he explains to you as you take your morning shower together, fingers running through your hair, is that you didn't kiss it enough. maybe that's why his soup had too much pepper and he didn't know how to cut the cucumbers.

he's still an amateur, so he'll leave the cooking to you. maybe next time he'll pretend the takeout he grabbed on his way home from school was handmade, though he doubts his friends will ever believe him, or his students after he demands they buy him kikufuku as compensation for leaving him out the night before.

ignore the ep that came out today! everyone’s alive and well. trust my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

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hxxsxxng · 2 months

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JAKE 심재윤 - BOYFRIEND’S BEST FRIEND

MINORS DNI

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: SMUT with hella plot

Content: Degradation, Unprotected Sex, Infidelity, Fingering, Oral f recieving, Choking, Pet Names. Cursing, jake is overall just mean and rough lmao

Preview: Longing for your boyfriend’s best friend turns into something more at a friend get together.

Authors Note: I just poured my heart and soul into this, I will not want to miss reading this I promise.

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

Wonnie was all I could ever ask for. My heart overflows with adoration for my sweet boy. Every moment spent with him is a cherished blessing that makes me wonder what I did to deserve someone like him. The way his eyes sparkle when he smiles at me melts my heart into a puddle. His tender embrace wraps me in the warmth and comfort of pure love. Even the little things he does, like surprising me with my favorite snack or sending a caring text to check on me, speak volumes about how thoughtful and caring he is. With him by my side, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Jake was different. The ache in my heart has become unbearable as I find myself helplessly torn between the man I love and his best friend. My boyfriend is the kindest, most caring soul, and the depths of my adoration for him are endless. Yet I can't deny the magnetic pull I feel towards Jake - the lingering gazes, the electrifying brushes of arms, the undeniable chemistry. It's utterly confusing and heartbreaking. I'm overwhelmed by guilt for even allowing these treacherous thoughts to enter my mind. But the heart wants what it wants, doesn't it? I'm paralyzed by the fear of losing the amazing man I've loved for so long, while also being haunted by the "what ifs" with his best friend. Turmoil rages within me as I pathetically attempt to navigate this excruciating inner conflict. Whichever path I choose, I'll be forced to inflict devastation on someone who matters immensely, and I don't want that.

It was a gorgeous summer evening and we were all gathered at Heeseung's place for a bonfire. Jungwon threw his arm casually around me as we took our seats around the crackling flames. I leaned into him, inhaling his comfortingly familiar scent, but my eyes kept getting pulled towards Jake.

Jungwon's best friend since childhood, Jake was stretched out on the grass, shirt discarded and those sculpted abs on full display. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the flickering shadows dancing across his tanned skin. Our gazes met briefly and an electric current shot through my body at the smoldering intensity in his stare before he looked away.

Feeling enough guilt to drown in, I snuggled closer to Jungwon, resting my head on his shoulder. He pressed a tender kiss to my hair and I clung to him tightly, trying to push the intrusive thoughts about Jake from my mind. But it was impossible to ignore the way my pulse quickened whenever Jakes deep chuckle burst through the night air.

"Hey babe, let's make some s'mores," Jungwon murmured in my ear, his fingers stroking my arm. I forced myself to smile at him adoringly. "Sure, that sounds perfect."

We gathered the graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows, letting our hands linger a little too long as we fed each other the gooey treats. All the while, I could feel Jakes eyes burning into me from across the flames. The tension was excruciating, suffocating. I wanted to curl up and cease to exist just to escape this torment.

As the night wore on, I nestled against Wonnie's side, trying my utmost to be the perfectly content girlfriend. But I was haunted by the deepening ache I felt for his best friend.

At one point, Jake rose to toss another log on the fire and my breath hitched as his toned back muscles flexed with the movement. Our eyes locked and the world seemed to stop spinning for a heart-pounding moment before Jungwon's voice snapped me back to reality.

"You want another beer, babe?" Jungwon asked, stroking my cheek affectionately.

"Sure, thanks," I murmured, tearing my gaze away from Jake with immense effort.

As Jake sauntered past to grab a new drink, my fingers ached to reach out and trace the contours of his sun-kissed skin. The mere thought made me feel faint with longing and disgust at my own disloyalty.

When Jake returned to his spot, I glanced at him over the rim of my bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the neck as he took lingering pulls from his beer made my mouth go dry. Jake caught me staring and arched one eyebrow before slowly dragging his tongue along his lower lip. An indecent shiver raced through me.

"You okay?" Jungwon's concerned voice dragged me back to reality again. "You seem...distracted tonight."

"I'm fine, babe. Just a little tired" I lied, forcing a reassuring smile as I snaked my arms around his neck and pulled his face down to mine for a lingering kiss.

Despite my desperate longing for Jake, seeing the pained look on Jungwon's face when he announced he was leaving shattered my heart into pieces. I couldn't bear to be the one causing such anguish to the sweet, caring man who had loved me so devotedly for years.

"Wait, Jake!" I called out on impulse, pulling away from Jungwon's embrace. Jake paused and turned back towards me slowly, hope in his expression.

Up close, the intensity sizzling between us was overwhelming. I could see the muscles in Jake's chiseled jaw twitching as he clenched it tightly. His eyes roamed hungrily over my face and figure before locking onto mine with a look that scorched me to my core.

"Don't go," I whispered, my voice trembling as I took an unconscious step closer to him. The air itself seemed to crackle with electricity. "Jungwon needs you here" I begged.

He quietly scoffs and comes back to set his stuff back down onto his unofficially assigned patch of grass. Jake jerked his head ever so slightly, signaling for me to follow him inside the house. My heart pounding, I hesitated for only a split second before rising to my feet. Jungwon's brow furrowed in confusion as he reached for my hand, but I gently shook my head.

"I...I'm going to run to the restroom," I murmured shakily, unable to meet Jungwon's caring gaze.

Jake turned on his heel and headed inside without another word or backward glance. I numbly trailed after him, throwing one last remorseful look at Jungwon's face over my shoulder, blowing a kiss.

The kitchen was dark and quiet when I entered. Before I could call out Jake's name, his powerful arms encircled me from behind. He crushed me back against the rigid wall of his chest as his nose trailed searing kisses along the sensitive skin below my ear.

"Jake...we can't..." I whimpered in protest, even as my treacherous body arched back against him instinctively.

"Shh," he husked, his hot breath washing over my neck and sending delicious shivers through me. "You know how long I've wanted this...how long I've wanted you."

All rational thought flew out the window as Jake's large hands roamed possessively over my body. I bit back a moan, feeling utterly intoxicated by his earthy, masculine scent overtaking me.

"Not here, we can't do this here."

Jake led me away from the kitchen and prying eyes, his large hand firmly gripping mine as we made our way down the hallway. The dimly lit hallway seemed to pulse with tension and forbidden desire. My heart was pounding so forcefully I could scarcely hear anything else.

He paused outside what I recognized as Heeseung's guest bedroom, turning to face me fully. In the shadows, his chiseled features were set in an expression of anguished longing as his molten gaze bored into me.

"I can't keep doing this," Jake rasped hoarsely, reaching up to cradle my face in his calloused palms. "Being around you but not being able to have you is tearing me apart."

I opened my mouth but I was rendered speechless as he leaned in closer, our lips a mere whisper apart.

"Tell me to stop," he said thickly. "Tell me to walk away right now and I'll respect your decision. But (Y/N)...if we cross this line there's no going back."

My breath came in ragged pants as I searched his blazing eyes desperately. I knew if I didn't end this right now, I would surely shatter Jungwon's heart into oblivion. But the magnetic pull to Jake was wildly intoxicating and impossible to resist.

So instead of uttering the words to save us both, I fisted my hands in Jake's chest and crushed my lips to his in a searing, breathless kiss. He let out a groan, instantly returning the embrace with bruising intensity as he walked me backwards into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.

Our lips did not part once as we made our way to the bed, trying hard not to step on anything. He layed me down gently, resting his hand under my head. His tongue exploring my mouth was something I have wanted for so long.

Jake tasted faintly of the beer he'd been drinking, but with an underlying sweetness that was just him. I inhaled his familiar scent surrounding me. The smell and taste of Jake on my senses was intoxicating.

When he sucked my lower lip into his mouth, a breathy moan escaped my throat. Jake's hand slid up under my shirt, caressing the bare skin of my lower back. I arched against him at his smoldering touch.

I lost all sense of time and place, consumed entirely by the passion of Jake's insistent kisses and wandering hands. I never wanted this feeling of blissful oblivion to end.

I could feel his cock slowly growing the longer our lips stayed together, putting pressure on my pussy. I could already feel the tension building up.

My hands explored the ridges of Jake's back muscles as our kisses became even more hungry and frantic. I ground shamelessly against him, craving friction.

Jake's scorching lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access. When his teeth grazed that sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet, I cried out in pleasure.

"Jake, please..." I heard myself beg breathlessly between his searing kisses. I ached for him with an intensity I'd never experienced before. My entire body was on fire, every nerve ending acutely sensitized to Jake's expert touch.

"Please what" he teased, making me use my words.

"Please touch me"

He slowly grinds his clothed cock over the mid seam of my shorts, making my legs tense up. "I've barely started sweetheart" he smirks. He tugs at the bottom of my shirt, signaling that he wants it off now. I lift my hands above my head as he slides it off, exposing my bare breasts since I was not wearing a bra.

He instantly grabs one of them and puts my hard nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one with his thumb and pointer. His tongue swirls around as I lay there, unable to formulate any words.

His free hand trails slowly down my stomach, past the waist band of my shorts. He fingers slip into my panties and onto my pussy, spreading the collected wetness all around clit and moved his fingers in soft circles. He slides his fingers between my folds as I grip his hair tightly, as a sign to show him how well he is doing.

He pulls his mouth away from my chest and wraps his fingers inside my waist band. I straighten my legs and he pulls my shorts straight off, taking my panties with it.

"You look so much better than I imagined" the words fell from his lips.

I lean up to unbuckle his belt, his hard cock begging to be released. I throw the belt to the side and unzip his pants. His sick springs out. It is a lot thicker than I imagined, veins peeking up the sides to his tip, with precum collected at the top.

"So big, I don't know if I will be able to take it" I teased.

"I will make you take it." he corrected.

His sudden change in demeanor made me even more wet. Jungwon was always soft and gentle, which is fine. But I want to be thrown around and used.

He leans back down with his head between my thighs. His tongue prances across my clit and in my hole. He switched between sucking and kissing my clit passionately. He slid two of his fingers into my pussy, curving them up for my maximum pleasure.

"You taste so sweet, I could do this for hours" he said with lust reflecting in his eyes. All I could do was moan at the sight of my boyfriends best friend between my legs.

I grip his hair a little harder and tense my legs, signaling that I am getting closer. "Jake... I-I'm about to" I say with a trembling voice. He takes his fingers out and pulls his head away. I let out a huge breath at the sudden emptiness and the feeling of cold air hit my clit.

"Not yet" he said sternly.

He grabs his member and strokes it a few times before gliding it across my wet folds. "Do you want me to grab a condom?" He asked. "No, I want to feel you"

He smirks "That's my good girl" he says before sliding it in, moving slowly for me to adjust to the brand new size. He goes all the way in and waits for me to get comfortable. I wince at the pain a little but as soon as I told him to keep going, all of the pain turned into pleasure in an instant.

He strokes in and out while concealing his lower lip behind his top teeth.

"God baby you're so wet, all for me" he growled in my ear.

He took out his member and rubbed it against my clit. Little whimpers escaped my mouth. He put my leg down and grabbed both of my hips and realigned himself, practically wasting no to whatsoever. He rammed himself into me without a warning, making me gasp.

"Yeah that's right, take it like the whore you are" he says angrily. His hand trails up my body and snakes around my throat, not tight enough for me to not breathe, but definitely tight enough for my eyes to roll to the back of my head.

"It f-feels so good, Jakey" I said naturally. Using my hips for stability, he pushed himself in and out of me at a faster pace. The scent of sex filled the room as well as the sound of our skin slapping against each other. He were hardly able to keep his moans back. He leaned down to my ear to make sure I could hear him, and nibbled on my ear to tease me.

"You hear that, that's what you do to me. getting me all needy like this." he whispered. I couldn't even form a response, all I could say was "R-right there."

He sped up the pace, sending chills up and down my spine.

"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock like that. It fits so perfectly, like you belong to me, you're my cockslut " He praised. I whimpered. His mind went fuzzy at the feeling of my pussy sucking him back in every time he pulls out.

He flipped me over on my stomach, making me go up on all fours. He slapped my ass so hard it left a huge red hand print, stinging with pain. He slides his cock back into me at an ungodly pace.

" I have been wanting this for so. fucking. long" he pleaded, matching his stroke pace with his words. I mumble out a "me too" before he grabs a hand full of my hair and slams my face into the mattress.

He gets closer to my ear and says" I know, you are such a whore, practically begging for my cock deep inside you when you already have a boy friend"

I clench when his words hit my ears."But he would never be able to fuck you like I do, would he?" he says rhetorically. I still answer "No he couldn't, daddy" I say with the sheets muffling my voice. My eyes are leaving wet spots on the bed from how much pleasure he is giving me. I moan out loudly "Harder please"

"That's what I thought, bitch" he says, going in harder and repeatedly hitting my sweet spot.

I can feel his cock start to twitch inside of my as I can feel the knot in my stomach about to snap. "Jakey, I'm about to c-cum" I cry out.

"Me too baby" he groans loudly, releasing his seed inside of me. Painting my gummy walls white with his warm liquid. I can feel it dripping out of my cunt after he pulls it out.

We are both panting as we try to catch out breaths. He flips me back over and gives me a kiss before grabbing a rag from the guest bathroom. "You did so well for me, baby"

"Let's get you cleaned up, princess" and says. He wipes off the sheets as well me and himself. We put out clothes back on quickly and the throws the rag into the trash.

We rushed our way down the hallway and tried to act like nothing happened. By the time we made our way back out to the bonfire, Jungwon knew something was suspicious.

"What the fuck Jake" Jungwon yells, getting up from his seat.

"What" Jake said confused

"If you are going to go behind my back and fuck my girl, atleast try to be less obvious about it."

After the initial shock and confrontation, Jake and I knew we had to try to make things right with Jungwon. We begged for his forgiveness, coming up with a flimsy excuse in hopes he would understand.

"Jungwon, please, you have to listen to us," Jake pleaded as we caught up with him outside. "It was just a stupid drunken mistake. We weren't thinking clearly."

Jungwon whirled around, eyes blazing with hurt and fury. "A mistake? You slept with my girlfriend behind my back! With me here!"

I grabbed his arm, tears streaming down my face. "I'm so sorry, Jungwon. You have to believe me, it meant nothing. We were just wasted and got carried away."

"Yeah, one minute we were joking around, and the next...well, you know," Jake said, unable to meet Jungwon's gaze.

Jungwon shook his head in disbelief. "That's no excuse! You took advantage of the situation. You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I know, I know," Jake replied miserably. "I have no idea what I was thinking. The alcohol just brought out the worst in me. It'll never happen again."

I nodded fervently. "Jungwon, you have to understand how incredibly sorry I am. What Jake and I did was unforgivable. But you mean everything to me."

"I trusted you both more than anyone," Jungwon said, pure devastation in his voice.

"We know," I replied through choked sobs. "And we'll spend forever trying to make it up to you if you'll give us another chance. Please Jungwon, I love you so much."

Jake joined in pleading. "I cherish your friendship more than anything, man. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness."

Jungwon just stared at us, face hardening. "I don't know if I can get past this. You need to give me some space."

Though his words crushed me, I knew Jungwon had every right to feel that way. Jake and I had shattered his world with our reckless actions. All we could do was beg forgiveness and pray that someday, somehow, he could find it in his heart to forgive us.

#enhypen jungwon #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen jake #heeseung #kpop #jungwon #stray kids #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jay #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #jay enhypen #heeseung smut #kpop smut #jake sim

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ornii · 1 year

Text

Folie à deux

The Madness of Two,

2020, The Grammys.

Your feet pattered the limousine floor as you checked your watch, a slight panic in your face. It was the Grammys this night and with your almost meteoric rise to stardom, this is the first time you’ve felt, Anxious about it. You take a deep breath and relax, slowly letting the world fade around you. It always seems so otherworldly.

It all began with posting a few SoundCloud songs, eventually one blew up and it seems your music name began to make the rounds. Taking that opportunity, you released an album under your name and it spread like Wildfire, big Celebes we’re posting snippets on social media and overnight, you somehow took over the world.

Media deals. Record Labels, Advertisers, all were hounding for you. The next big thing, and it seems it all lead to a climax and here you were. Pulling up to the Grammys, you took a few deep breaths and waited for the door to be opened for you, as your chauffeur did, cameras flashed, cheers and screams were all over the place. You put on a smile and head inside to the main foyer, you were greeted by the obvious managers of said Grammys and was Starstruck by those inside, Multi record winning Artists, people who are considered gods. You were standing with somehow. Your awe was cut off by a voice.

“Mr (L/N)?” They ask, you turn around to a woman with a mic, not a reporter but the woman managing the seating.

“I’m glad you made it safe, if it’s okay with you, you’ll be seated next to Ortega.” She said, you raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Brian Ortega? I didnt know he liked the Grammys.” You say and she chuckles.

“No no, Miss Ortega.” She said; which Just confused you even more, you shrugged.

“Uh, Sure.” You say, you began to mingle, trying to keep up appearances as some of the most influential artists Dawned your presence. Ranging from Movie directors like Spielberg, to Multi Grammy winners like Canadas own, Aubrey Graham, better known as Drake. Ten minutes to countdown you reach your seat and relax. Everyone begins to get ready, and your train of though was on what you would say if you would, could possibly win a Grammy.

“Hey.” A Voice draws your attention and you turn to face it, and your eyes laid upon someone that made the world grind to a halt, all you could see were those beautiful eyes, soft skin and a smile that could make the darkest moments in your life shine like a supernova. and it finally dawned on you, you’re Sitting next to, Jenna Ortega. You remember when Iron Man 3 was released in Theaters, and the Vice Presidents daughter that Tony had to save, that was her! And stuck in the middle! It took moments for you to realize the impact She actually had on you.

“O-oh! Hi!” You day, your voice cracking slightly as you try not to get lost in her eyes. She offers a slight handshake and you take it, not really able to speak.

“Jenna.” She says.

“Y-yeah I’ve seen a lot of your movies I—“ you begin, but stop trying not to sound like a fanboy in front of her. She genuinely smiles at her.

“Thanks. I don’t mean to pry but you are working on more music right? With that much talent you can’t stop right?” She says and you nod.

“Anything for you.” You thought, “Shit that’s creepy why did I say that?! JUST BE COOL.” You think and nod.

“Yeah, didnt think I’d get this far, nice to meet someone my age, makes me less anxious.

“I know, feels kind heavy, doesn’t it?” She says, “All these celebs, kinda feels weird being here.” She says awkwardly. And you build up the courage to utter one sentence.

“It should, you deserve to be here.” You say, it actually catches her off guard and she can only smile and say “Thanks.”, genuinely. You two hush as the ceremony begins. It was fairly uneventful, besides You and Tyler the Creator tweeting memes at each other, before the first set of awards were given, and one of the main four was presented. Best New Artist of the Year, it was heavily contested, Alaina Castillo, Summer Walker, Normani, Giveon. You definitely wanted Giveon, Heartbreak anniversary was your jam. As Keke Palmer took the stage she has the envelope and smiles.

“Good luck.” You hear Jenna say from the side and, that boosts your confidence to levels you couldn’t imagine.

“And the Grammy for Best New Artist goes to… Your Very own! (Y/n) (L/n)!” She says and the crowd explodes, the look of shock was on your face, you rose up being congratulated by many, Jenna claps for you as you approach the stage, still stunned. You take the Grammy with a look of sheer luck and disbelief, you stand there at the Mic and just stand there for a moment.

“Uh- Sorry i had no idea I was gonna be here.” You say and they laugh, you shrug it off.

“Well, I suppose I should say something.. first thing is, well it’s been a crazy year, I went from barley making college payments to buying my parents a new house, cars, anything they could ever want and, it’s all thanks to you all.” Your anxiety was soon filled with sadness and cheers began to bellow.

“You all don’t know how much this means to me, thank you. And, god bless you all.” You raise the Grammy to a rousing applause, you return back to your seat and wipe a few tears. But a tissue was handed to you, but none other than Jenna. You two share a smile and keep the Ceremony going, but I hope you didn’t expect just one.

“Song of The Year! Album of The Year! Record of the Year!” After the third one you hear the song play as you head up with the last one and you take it, and you turn to everyone awkwardly.

“Okay i didnt expect to be up here four times.” You say to more laughter, you try to keep it short and sweet. “Seriously this is becoming a bad trend, I’m just some kid from nowhere, and you all believed in me, and I’m so glad you put your trust in me, in us. My team, my family, my fans, these are all for you.” You hold up the fourth Grammy and as usual it was arousing applause.

Nearing the End of the celebration you walk out of the Grammys with Four, FOUR; in your first appearance there. Two under your arms and to in your hands. You attempt to show them all laughing. But before you can continue you turn around to Jeanna who’s taking pictures of her own and motion her over, to take pictures with you, she rolls her eyes sarcastically as the anxiety and fear washed away to golden confidence. You both pose for the pictures and they flash so desperate for a header and they got one.

“(Y/n) (L/n) and Jenna Ortega? What could this mean for the two blossoming stars?”

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wednesday x reader #wedensday x you #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #fluff #slow burn

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

Flirting - Graham Dunne Imagine [Daisy Jones & the Six]

Title: Flirting

Pairing: Graham Dunne X Reader

Word Count: 888 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: In the hopes of getting the attention of some big-time journalist in the music world, Graham tries his hand at some flirting.

Author's Note: I warned y'all that this show was going to be my next hyperfixation. I told you that this would happen.

Might write another part to this.

PART TWO HERE

PART THREE HERE

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

I had started growing tired of going to parties that were just very extravagant ways to make professional connections.

Having fun and enjoying myself had been left so low on my list of priorities that I truly saw no point in going to those annoying events anymore.

I walked straight to the bar in the venue and pulled myself onto a stool.

"Evening!" the bartender said with a smile. I grinned back. "What can I get you?"

I rattled off my order before turning around and looking at the crowd of people. I took my glass off the counter as I did so.

People were so interesting when they needed things. Some of them were confident. It was difficult to tell who was faking it and who wasn't. The key was the eyes. Truly confident people could look their target in the eye. It made me chuckle.

I had been in the music industry for a decent amount of time. I was a journalist but after enough time, anyone could figure most of it out.

I had been lucky. I earned some respect early on. Some of it seemed to grow and snowball, but some of it was balancing on the edge of a cliff. I was constantly fighting to keep my hold on it.

Maybe that's why I had grown so cold to so many people.

Just as I turned around to order another drink, a guy placed himself on the stool next to me.

After telling the bartender what he wanted, he motioned at me, "And I'll buy their next round."

I scoffed. "No..."

I grabbed my wallet and pulled out some cash.

"This should be enough for my drinks and his," I explained. The bartender nodded.

I turned to look at the man that sat next to me.

He was looking down at the counter. "Sorry... was trying to be nice."

"Well, I don't like feeling indebted to anyone," I replied. He slowly nodded.

Our drinks were placed in front of us.

"I just wanted to buy the most attractive person here a drink," he shrugged.

I chuckled. "That line ever work for you?"

"Haven't really tried it before."

"I don't recommend trying it again."

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.

I chuckled.

"You're (Y/n), right? (Y/n) (Y/l/n)?"

"Good guess," I leaned my elbow on the bar. I felt like I had already experienced this conversation a million times before.

"I- I've read your work," he explained. His eyes were jumping between my eyes, the counter, and everything else around me. "It's really well written. You... You've helped me understand records that I would never have listened to twice. I think you offer unique perspectives-"

"What's your name," I asked, cutting him off bluntly.

"Graham," he replied. "Graham Dunne."

"What band are you in, Graham Dunne?" I exaggerated a bit as I said his last name.

"We call ourselves the Dunne Brothers- how did you know I was in a band?"

"Two types of people tend to come up to me at events like this," I explained. "I've learned how to sort them out. Overly confident and aggressive: music producer or some other big name at a label. Awkward and uncoordinated: band member, but usually not the lead singer. Either way, goal's usually the same. Sweet talk in my ear until I write what they want me to write."

"That... sounds lonely," he replied.

"Oh, no, don't do that," I said. "Don't pity me. Makes me sick to my stomach."

"I didn't- I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

"People look at me and see a young person in a position that they don't think I deserve," I shrugged. "To them, I am an easy target. Grow used to it after a while."

"Well, I'm still sorry."

I knew that I wasn't going to get him to drop the topic if I didn't accept the sentiment. "Thanks."

He nodded.

"Now... why did you come up to me?"

He took a deep breath, guilt clearly written on his face. "There's a gig. I have a gig- We have a gig. Tomorrow night."

There it was.

"You want me to write a review of it," I concluded.

"I'd be honored if you did," he offered a soft grin. I nodded slowly.

I don't know what exactly inspired my next actions.

Maybe Graham just seemed different. Something in his eyes was more genuine than anyone that I had met in a while. Maybe he was just better at convincing people to do stuff for him.

Regardless of the reason, I leaned forward, letting my lips brush the shell of his ear while I slid my card under his fingertips. "Call me at this number, we can meet for breakfast, and you can tell me all about that gig you've got."

I leaned back again, biting my lip to avoid chuckling at the stunned look on his face.

"I'll see you around, Graham Dunne."

I stood up and started walking out of the party.

I paused at the door and turned to look at Graham again. He was getting pat on the back and clearly teased by the other people around him. I assumed it was the rest of his band.

I chuckled to myself before going on my way.

This was going to be a very interesting experience.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#graham dunne imagine #graham dunne fanfiction #graham dunne x reader #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones and the six imagine

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lungs4sale · 4 months

Text

my fav hannigram fanfics

png by @pngsforyou

1. Impasto by jiggityjams

“You’re not going to try to discourage me, Will?” Another glance, a pursing of lips. “... No. I can see the determination in your face. You know what you want and you have the means to obtain it. Most clients think they know what they want- until they hear how long it will take and how much that work will cost. We’ll work out some numbers, of course, and draft a contract. If you’re willing to be patient with the piece then I’m willing to give it my best go.” A small, pleased smile spread across the psychiatrist’s face. “I think this is the start of a beautiful partnership, Will. I look forward to working with you.” Or the one where Hannibal has found a lost treasure and Will has given up on police work and has turned his talents to restoring oil paintings.

this is a different au where will quits the fbi and becomes a painter (if im not wrong). abigail is alive and works for him. i read this awhile ago and i remember loving it because of how sarcastic will was. one of my notes was: will was so desperate to open up (not sure why but this man is so touch starved and craved for affection in the show so i guess it's canon accurate). i also have a soft spot for fics with abigail in it because she deserves the world.

2. Five Times Hannibal Visits Will and One Time He's Already Home (or: Coffee Cake) by bones_2_be

When Will tells Hannibal to leave at the end of Digestivo, he goes. And then, a few years later, he shows back up. They have long conversations, drink a lot of wine, at the end of it all they find something that works.

i just finished reading this 2 days ago and it was an experience. i loved how well paced it was. the writing really matched the same vibe of the show. both hannibal and will were written quite accurately to how i feel they would react in the show itself. the way both of them interacted in this fic was realistic and how i wish i could erase my mind of this fic so i could experience it again for the first time.

3. each according to its kind by chaparral_crown

Will does the only reasonable thing that someone fresh out of a mental hospital with no support system does - he leaves, and goes on a road trip to the Pacific Northwest.

this fic is THE hannigram fic, fight with the wall. kidding. this is more of a character study of will (hannibal doesn't even show until halfway through). the writing is top tier and just like the fic before it really does match the vibe of the show. i personally am not a big fan of smut (i don't mind it, i just prefer plot over that) and this book barely had any in it which is a godsend.

4. ...And This One is Just Right by Sabi

When an injured BSHCI escapee breaks into Dr. Graham's vet clinic, it doesn't end cleanly. Surely it couldn't happen again? Or again?

will is a vet in this universe and i'm not sure why but i pictured him younger? it's only 4 chapters if im not wrong and it's a fun read! the characterisation of will is not as accurate to the show but to be fair it is a different universe and i still love this fic dearly.

pngs by @saizun

i'll post more because i want to create an archive here. i don't really like how ao3 looks so i'm going to do it on tumblr instead. if you have any hannigram recs plsplsplspls let me know because i'm literally begging for scraps sire. also merry christmas to those celebrating!

#hannigram #hannibal nbc #ao3 fanfic #ao3 recs #will graham #hannibal #alana bloom #abigail hobbs #plasticghostbot's ao3 recs #hannibal lecter #each according to its kind #...and this one is just right #Five Times Hannibal Visits Will and One Time He's Already Home (or: Coffee Cake)#impasto #beverly katz #i love hannigram sosososo much #hannigram ao3

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

Text

Gold dust woman

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @accidrainonme — if you made one based off of gold dust woman by fleetwood mac i’d go insane omg

✧.* summary — Eddie has been dealing with a lot lately, and after getting his heart broken he goes in search of the only person in the world who brings him peace: you.

✧.* warnings — Heartbroken Eddie :(((

✧.* word count — 1.5k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I tried a lot to do something faithful to the music, I don't know if I succeeded but I really liked the result. Hope you like it too :)

Eddie had been through the hardest week of his life, Billy as always was being the biggest asshole in the world and the fact that he didn't solve things with Camila only made everything worse. The bassist had been in love with her for many years and that day seeing her so wonderful, looking stunning next to someone like Billy had made everything worse.

After a show they were all celebrating in Daisy's room, Warren looked super excited singing the song in the background, Graham was having fun talking to another group of people, and Karen was dancing with Daisy.

Roundtree couldn't stop thinking about the frustration he felt seeing the woman he loved next to the person he hated the most, he didn't understand how someone like Billy had everything he wanted.

And now he found himself isolated from the others, sitting in a chair while trying to hold back his tears. The conversation he had with Camila earlier tore his heart apart, all he wanted was to show her that he could make her happier, but that wasn't what she wanted so there wasn't much he could do, despite watching her from afar.

Watching her dance with him made him want to throw chlorine in his eyes, and when he couldn't take it anymore he decided to leave that place. He gets up still with the same beer in hand, going down the stairs with the intention of walking aimlessly around, he didn't know why everything cooperated for him to feel so insignificant, he started little by little to believe in all that.

The bassist took a sip from his bottle as he walked down the dimly lit street, and while he wandered in his thoughts, he remembered that a few blocks away you would probably be lying on your couch watching some random show. So, thinking of relieving his mind of all the chaos that surrounded it, he starts walking towards your apartment.

On the other hand you were having an extremely generic night, nothing new had happened in the last few hours so you decided to spend the rest of your time doing a movie night. You were ready to prepare some snacks and lie down in front of the television so as not to get up until the next day. As soon as everything is ready you sit on the couch and almost automatically your doorbell rings, you arch an eyebrow and bring your gaze to the clock... You sure as hell weren't expecting anyone at ten o'clock at night.

Leaving your bowl of snacks on the sofa, you head towards the door, opening it to find a crestfallen Eddie. You were immediately concerned, you had known Eddie for a few years and you knew that lately things weren't great for him - which broke your heart - You cared a lot about him and knew he didn't deserve what life did to him.

"Eddie love, what happened?" You say holding his hand, and pulling him inside the apartment.

"I'm exhausted Y/N" he says, bringing his hands to his face in frustration. "I can't understand how he gets everything he wants! He is literally the most selfish person in the world and nobody seems to notice it."

"What happened?" You say, hugging him.

"Cami, she…" He can't hold it anymore, he starts to cry. "Am I that insignificant? She discarded me like I was nothing"

"Of course not Eddie" You say, wiping the tears from his face. "You deserve so much more, and if these people don't recognize that, they're crazy."

"I can't understand" He looked very exhausted, you knew how much he charged himself for all this and you couldn't stand to see him in that situation.

"Maybe you need a change..." You say, catching the man's attention. "This whole environment, even though dear to you, is not good for you, my love."

"I can't just…" he starts to say, but the urge to cry invades him again. "I can't just leave them"

"I know it's hard, but it doesn't mean it'll be forever." You say calmly, patiently waiting for him to calm down. "You don't have to disappear from their lives, you just have to respect your time. You must understand that you have the right to be upset about all this, you have feelings too…"

He remains silent, so you decide to continue.

"I see that it hurts you so much, and yet you keep trying to give it all a chance." You approach him, holding his hands. "I understand your love for them and that it can be really hard to let go of something so important, but it's costing you your happiness."

"I won't make it without them" He looks at you with puffy eyes, being honest with everything he kept to himself. "I'm nothing without them, I feel like everything I ever thought I was good at was a grand illusion."

He closes his eyes, letting a few more tears fall.

"I thought when she gave me that chance that night, for once things were going to work out."

Roundtree watches you intently, as if he wants to believe your words more than anything else. Seeing him in that situation broke your heart, even more so when you knew you could love him the way she couldn't. Eddie had become an extremely special person to you throughout your friendship, you have never stopped talking since he arrived in LA and from the beginning you knew what a great talent that man had, and how music was his passion.

When he called you telling you that Billy had changed every moment of him on the album you couldn't believe it, you couldn't understand how someone could be so selfish. You called him to your apartment so he could stay away from Billy during his time off until the tour started, and that's what he did.

Eddie and you spent that time sharing your apartment, most days you watched movies, danced to the records you had, cooked whatever junk food you wanted, and some days you even invited Warren to spend time with you. That time brought you much closer together, and it also contributed to increasing the passion you felt for him.

Talking about talent for you was like talking about him, it was impossible to imagine someone more talented and passionate than Eddie Roundtree, you always knew how dedicated he is to his work, and the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about it was priceless. And that's exactly how you wanted to see him, you wanted him to link his work, his music with that passion and joy that he conveyed. But over time, all those frustrations made that sparkle in his eyes disappear, he didn't talk with joy about it, he wasn't proud of himself anymore.

You knew about his love for Camila, and you also knew about the affair they had that day. You knew very well that she was very special to him, after all, they basically grew up together and he nurtured that love for her for years. He still hadn't told you what she said to make him like this, but you were sure she had broken his heart. It was really hard for him to open up to someone like he did to you, he hated looking vulnerable anyway, so you were kind of speechless when he started crying before he even spoke.

"You know I consider you the most talented person on earth, right?" You smile, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. "I don't know what she told you, but you need to know that you are so much more than a replacement…"

"I wanted so much to believe in you" Frustrated he replies, letting out a sigh. "I love her, Y/N"

"I know my love" Your heart clenched as you saw his eyes fill with tears once more. "But do you understand that love doesn't have to hurt like that?"

He looks at you, silently waiting for you to continue.

"Eddie, love has to be something that makes you feel fulfilled, happy, that doesn't cause you any frustration or anguish." Your hands hold his lovingly, and your eyes go down to your intertwined fingers. "You know you can count on me, right?"

"I don't know what I would be without you" He says letting out a sigh, letting go of your hands he lays on your lap. "I'm so broken, why would you want to deal with me?"

"I'm always here to help you to pick up your pieces" You reply, ruffling his hair. "You can always come home, my home is yours my love."

"Home is wherever you are" He mutters, closing his weary eyes from crying. "Thanks for so much, really"

"Don't mention it" You whisper, noticing his body relaxes under your touch.

Eddie Roundtree: I don't have words to describe how important she is to me, but I can assure you that after that day she completely changed the meaning of love for me.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#daisy jones and the six #djats #djats x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie loving #josh whitehouse #sebastian chacon #djatsedit #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones #the six #the dunne brothers

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thesiltverses · 3 days

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Hi there! I just finished a relisten of the silt verses and oh my GOD the writing is just incredible. I’ve always been blown away by the world building but on this listen I realized just how enamored I am with the way you write complex character relationships. Of course the major relationships develop naturally and beautifully but I have so much appreciation for the less central relationships (Paige and Faulkner’s dads come to mind as characters only on the show for a little while but who absolutely blew me away.)

It’s been said a million times but it’s so refreshing to follow a cast of people who are all terrible (or complicit in terrible things) in different ways. It’s such a natural extension of the worldbuilding—of course it’s near impossible to be a “good person” in a world ravaged by consumerism. I admire how it’s such a fantastical world yet even the worst of the villains feel wholly human.

Anyways I haven’t had the energy to draw for over a month now but I was so inspired by this relisten that I’ve now finished a whole art piece and I have several new ideas to work on! The imagery in tsv is so rich it’s like it wants to be drawn.

Tldr; the silt verses is my fav podcast of all time. I truly hope you feel incredibly proud of your creation. Thank you for putting something so amazing out into the world

Hey! Thank you so, so much - it's comments like these that really just make your day and make all of it feel worthwhile.

On your point about relatively minor roles, I completely agree - of course Steve Shell nails his performance as Faulkner's dad, but I also think Graham Rowat deserves a ton of praise and recognition for what he does with Dennis, and maybe he tends to get forgotten a bit because of the nature of the character.

I see a lot of people raving about the start of his character arc (hating his guts) and the end (feeling moved by him) in completely opposed ways, and I think that really speaks to Graham's brilliant range.

(Also, I think I saw your art piece of Paige and it was absolutely gorgeous! Really thrilled that the show gave you a bit of extra inspiration and thank you in turn for putting something so fantastic out into the world.)

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sgiandubh · 9 months

Text

Jottings: Season 7, episode 7. If my Latin serves me, that must mean star traveler

Finally made it. Ticked that box. Doubled Cape Fear. I deserve an ice cream, I suppose.

To be honest, I was expecting way worse. And it ends much better than it started, despite SS moaning like a banshee, despite the chopped editing, despite that finger-in-mouth failed transplant (I shall not thank thee, Vanessa Woman) and despite an almost unreadable storyline for us, show-onlies.

A few words on this season's Lallybroch set. I know the Eighties were dubiously fond of shrieking orange shades, diarrheic golden browns and horribly impractical furniture, of course. But am I the only one that feels modern-day Lallybroch is tacky and kitschy AF, as compared to the wonderful, really perfect J&C& the Murrays' timeline? I also find it disturbingly confusing, a failed hybrid between a Texas ranch and a Brittany gentilhommière. To bear the shock, my gaze needs the active help of details with a story and a destiny, such as the Jacobite 'Nemo me impune lacessit' saltire I've noticed ever since Mrs. Graham was reading Claire's teacup, in season 1 - now almost an afterthought. Therefore, the overall result feels like J&C's shrine has been colonized by anachronistic hipsters, not to mention that horrible caravan. There is a complete lack of coziness to a space that did not have the time to become a real home. That only makes things worse when #Broger try their best at mimicking a functional, credible marriage, sex included.

Let's be done already with the Phil Collins moment. And go tell it on the mountain that, despite the multiple warnings received recently, my reaction somehow managed to surprise myself. Reader, I HOWLED, which is beyond redemption and potentially much more cruel than a heavy disappointment. The hydraulics were shaky. The afghan was mustard. She was indescribable and he was elsewhere. I shall only add that my brain refused the connection with In the Air Tonight and went instead for I Can't Dance. If there is any truth in that old symmetry between dancing, driving and canoodling - go figure. Enough said.

The two people who totally slayed this episode were Buck Mackenzie and Vandervaart - I know, indulge me, I am a poor woman of feeble mind. I do not intend to insist on young William, simply because I don't think it's savvy to shamelessly fangirl two days in a row. He shines in that very difficult battle scene, and yes, it reminded me of Culloden J sans the kamikaze touch. And yes, by the end of Saratoga 1.0, William is easily ten years older: the whole world's burden weighs on his shoulders and there is a taste of ashes to that Pyrrhic victory.

Spoiler: [looking at Jemmy's toy plane] Of all the things I have seen... have you been inside one? (...) My Jeremiah would love this. Buck is phenomenal. He is versatile enough to seamlessly transition from a hungry animal to the 18th century lawyer to the unwanted, macho cousin-ancestor to the father who misses his children, all of this in less than an hour. And even if I shall never forgive Herself for not bringing You-Know-Who through the stones, this could be as good as it gets, in terms of a second-best narrative solution. Still, unfair, Herself. Unfair to bits.

Spare the cosmic booing in the air these days, the J&C/S&C PDA issue has also been debated at length, in quite tired terms, to be honest. What I did see was a couple sure of itself and completely at ease with one another. And if you think S&C were nowhere to be found, think again about C's chuckle just after J cheekily tells her she needs spectacles, with a very 21st century flirty-coffee-in-town attitude that is not J.

I believe the next and last episode is on August 11th. That should be the one with the blue light mojo, right? Right.

I can't wait.

Credit given again to @flllk. Of course.

#jottings

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notmorbid · 1 month

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the angel of indian lake, pt. 2.

dialogue prompts from the angel of indian lake by stephen graham jones.

i feel there may be unresolved tensions between us.

what do the boy scouts say? 'leave it better than you found it'?

i should probably be vegetarian. maybe next week.

ghosts: nature's air conditioner.

don't look behind. only look ahead.

this isn't exactly the outfit i would have picked.

from the bottom of my chainsaw heart, thanks.

thank you for listening to me all the time.

your past doesn't foretell your future.

you've never tried to survive something like this.

you can't control who you're related to.

you can't be jonesing right now if you want to keep living.

that's not the kind of luck i have.

stay where the people are.

you know who doesn't get beheaded? the one who doesn't put their neck under the machete.

what kills people who are already dead?

we must be reading the signs wrong.

sometimes lies are the only thing that can keep you moving forward.

from what i understand about relationships, they're all about cold shoulders.

if i can be in the past, then i don't have to be here.

you're a survivor, through and through.

killing rages don't always distinguish between 'friend' and 'foe'.

'when'. not 'if'.

i'd rather die from the front than the back.

it's not a good day to die.

is the world going mad, or is it just me?

this really is starting again, isn't it?

the only things worth knowing are the things you're not supposed to know.

not all crying involves tears.

make this make sense.

the new me just wants to live.

what i want is for this to be a nightmare i'm in control of.

horror can save your life, if you let it.

i don't want to hear one single thing you say. ever.

i deserve a good ending, i think.

'the hits just keep on coming'. tagline on the movie poster of my life, right there.

i'm not leaving until you make me. maybe not even then.

if you're not a born final girl, i don't even know what one is.

i need my blood on the inside.

you've done this before, haven't you?

i feel like i'm missing something obvious.

there aren't any good fixes. there's just trying to make it through one moment, then the next.

it's not something you can get used to, but it can lose its surprise.

justice is just another stupid dream. all there is is luck.

all stories end where they begin. at least the good ones do.

i shouldn't have left you. i had a choice.

i'll be holding your hand. i'll keep you here.

i would have made it hurt more, if i'd known.

i get wanting to rip enough holes in the world so that it falls down.

know who you look like?

the land doesn't want you here.

i'm not coming to hang out if there's no nicotine. be serious.

once the limelight's done with you, you're relegated to the shadows to try to deal with it however you can. alone.

i still can't even cuss right.

it's you. it's always been you.

heaven doesn't want me and hell's afraid i'll take over.

you want to fight again, don't you?

you're off your meds, aren't you?

isn't this a dream i had once? a long way back?

there's no time to hide in the past. there never is, around here.

being sorry doesn't mean you can hide from it.

so much of my life is screaming.

giving second chances is inviting your abuser in for coffee so you can talk things through.

you didn't have to believe in me. you shouldn't have.

it doesn't matter. it was a long time ago.

no amount of damage done to someone erases what they've done to you.

you hold onto what you can, and you hold tight.

action. not words.

better to let the past stay back where it is.

dad and daughter stories can be good, too. some of them have to be.

i trained you too well. you're using my logic against me.

you're so beautiful.

you can't get rid of me this easy.

can't i just hate you and let that be that?

it's not about the numbers, it's about the names. the people.

blackmail doesn't work on me.

scars prove you lived.

i remember everything, even the stuff i don't want to.

i've seen all the movies. i know all the rules.

#rp meme #sentence starters #ask memes #ask meme #inbox memes #rp prompt #rp memes #horror meme

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sirthisisa-wendys · 10 months

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You are giving me so many feels with Shuji's Hand her over! I want to know more! Poor guy still doesn't know what to do without his friend...

Hand Her Over III (Part 3): Shuji Hanma x Fem!Reader

wc: 690

tw: some RELIEF

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

"I'm sorry." The look you give Shuji withers his soul, but he proceeds, offering hot chocolate and cinnamon graham crackers - your favorite.

"I thought... If..." He falters, exhaling deeply. "You don't have to give me your trust. I don't deserve it." Your chin tilts up a little as you look him in the eye; Shuji proceeds carefully. "You probably don't even want to forgive me, and that's okay."

"Don't assume what I want or don't want," you quip, guarding yourself closely. Shuji nods.

"Right. I'm sorry for assuming anything." You don't acknowledge his apology, and he swallows hard. "But I want you to know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to regain your trust."

Your eyes narrow, but your hands reach out to accept food and drink offerings. "Come in." Shuji follows you into your room and notes how empty it is. You used to sleep in the bedroom, but when you returned from the incident... you took your things into the spare room and left Shuji alone. He'd been alone for so long... and you'd been in here, all alone with your thoughts and nightmares. No one could hold you in the darkness. Shuji feels his own guilt rising up like bile in his throat. After you offer him a seat, he sits on the bed, then you carefully sip the hot chocolate. You don't speak, so Shuji fills the emptiness with his own words.

"I've loved you since the day we met," he begins, moving past the overwhelming fear of being wrong. "There's never been another 'you' anywhere in this world. I would know." Shuji clears his throat. "My worst nightmare came true when Manjiro brought you to the..." Your lips come together in a tight expression, so Shuji leaves the details alone. "I didn't know what to do that would get us out alive."

"I've seen you fight, Shuji."

"I know."

You continue, frowning. "I've seen you defy death, almost." Shuji wipes his eyes as his lip quivers, and you open your mouth again. "Why did you hold me down?" Your voice shakes, and the sound of your fear breaks his heart all over again.

"He gave me no choice; I didn't want him to kill you." You place the mug on the nightstand and sigh, and Shuji sees the conflicting emotions on your face. "I know he might try to do this again, and I wouldn't be upset with you if you chose to leave me." You look down at your hands. Shuji reaches between the two of you and takes one of them in his own, feeling your soft skin for the first time in weeks.

"You can leave, and I'll never bother you again. I'll give you half of everything I own." You sniff, and tears roll down your cheeks. "I'll make sure you're taken care of. I just..." Shuji reaches his other hand out to brush the tears away from your eyes. You're so tired, so sore, so... hurt. And it's all his fault, isn't it?

Just as Shuji thinks you'll pull away and curl up alone, you lean your head against his palm and close your eyes. Tears still fall, but the feeling of your head being held in his hand keeps Shuji from thinking it's all over. He can still be there. He can still make this right.

"The offer will always stand," he finally whispers, and you nod before pulling him close and pressing your head against his chest. "I love you too much to keep you trapped here."

"I'm trapped in my own head," you murmur, trying to suppress a sob as you wipe your eyes on his t-shirt. "I need help getting out, Shu."

"I'll help and be patient with you."

"And I'll be patient with you," you echo, and Shuji lays back on the bed, placing a shaky hand on your head. "I love you."

"I love you more." Shuji closes his eyes with a gentle kiss on your forehead, daring himself to fall asleep in the comfort of your embrace and letting his fear melt away in the face of your acceptance.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #shuji hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji #shuji hanma

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thenookienostradamus · 2 months

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It's incredibly interesting to come back to Hannibal (as in the show) after an extremely transformative near-decade of my life and note the differences in how I perceive the characters.

On the first watch, Hannibal came off as charming, suave, persuasive, and solid. I guess it's either a testament to Mads Mikkelsen's acting or a testament to the largely substantiated rumor that he often didn't know what the fuck Hannibal was supposed to be saying in a given scene that now his demeanor comes across so differently. It's still a mask, yes, but it's not one piece. It's a mosaic of hundreds of different pieces held together by (pardon the pun) force of will. Of course even a super-smart, super-sophisticated liar can't keep that many proverbial plates spinning at once, so the slips are frequent. Hannibal attracts curious and/or reckless people, people who want or feel compelled to find out what is underneath the mask. Alana, Mason, Jack, etc.

Of course that's the problem. Regular people - even extraordinarily perceptive ones - have trouble accepting the fact that there is nothing behind the mask. Only void. He's all surface. Hannibal is what he does, and that can vary from minute to minute. Only the occasional appearance of cohesion makes him look like anything other than a creature of pure, self-serving instinct. He collects pretty things, he eats, he tortures and kills. Most straightforward possible motive: gratification.

Will is of special interest to him because here is this sloppy-ass bleeding wound of a person who can't help but carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Will Graham is the universe's doormat...or so he perceives because he can't pry himself out of his own head. He just feeels so hard all the time. Now with some well-intentioned therapy and a lot of work, Will could build himself a toolkit to cope with that too-keen empathy. But he's not in a mindset where he wants to do that - or even can do it - because he thinks he's unfixable. That he alone among all humans is extra-special doomed to a life of constant mortal wounding, all of which somehow fails to kill him. It's pretty fucking exhausting, actually. Like, kindly get over yourself, sir.

Not that Hannibal is any different. 'I don't find you that interesting.' 'You will.' Oh please shut the fuck up, you drama queen.

Which is why their folie à deux comes about. In Will, Hannibal finds someone who is not only a constant victim but someone who deep down (or not so deep down) thinks he deserves everything that Hannibal dishes out. He fights it for a little while, but it's a perfunctory fight he puts up "because that's what a real person would do."

Not that Will is a total sheep (lamb?). Far from it. Once the realization hits, he goes all-in as Hannibal's punching bag. Because he knows Hannibal is just sadistic and patient enough to scrape out every last shred of his humanity. Which sounds like an incredible deal to the World's Saddest Sad Boy, because once Hannibal puts the finishing touches on his design...Will won't have to feel anymore. Ever again. Achievement fucking unlocked.

The other two characters that I find newly fascinating now where on the first go-round I hardly considered them at all are Bedelia and Abigail.

Bedelia knows exactly what Hannibal is and isn't. She sees it right away. But she literally can't stop herself from poking the bear for her own amusement until the bear turns and eats (part of) her. Pretty sure she considers the leg collateral damage...and a fair trade for having had the chance to needle that pompous fuck until he popped. That's how she gets her jollies.

Abigail, well...her dad was bush league. She's the real deal. Once she sees what she can have, she's not just letting Hannibal gut her, she's scooping out her own insides and handing them to him. Honestly, I think that pisses Hannibal off. He can't mold her at every step. He can't draw out the torment, which is his favorite thing. Once the torture victim starts breaking their own limbs or putting the thumbscrews on themselves, it ruins the fun. If she were older, she would have known that. But she's young, she's enthusiastic. She's all in on whatever she commits to, and that happens to be murder. And if she just skipped off into the sunset and leaned in by her own girlboss self, she could carve a bloody path through life that's easily as wide as Hannibal's, if not wider. But she sticks around a little too long, still not quite at the Bedelia level of recognition that kicking the hornet's nest could have visceral consequences, so she has to go. Kind of a shame, but she wasn't quite as good at suffering as Will is.

So Hannibal and Will may be "murder husbands," but the most important murders they commit are inside their own binary system. Will murdering himself endlessly and Hannibal also murdering Will endlessly. Everything else is just incidental.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal meta

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k-s-morgan · 4 months

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Hi K. I’m sorry the war rages on and that things haven’t gotten better. It does seem like the world has completely gone to shit, permanently. I wish I could do something to help. I’m sorry I can’t.

If it’s ok, and if it’d help get your mind off of things for a bit, I wanted to ask a hannigram-related question.

It’s not clear on the show (if I remember correctly) whether Will dismembered and did the museum tableau of Randall Tier by himself or with Hannibal. It was my understanding that him and Hannibal did it together, however, in the script, Hannibal asks Will something along the lines of “why didn’t you get rid of the body (Randall’s)?” [instead of displaying it?]. So the script implies that Hannibal wasn’t present and didn’t do the tableau with Will, and that Will did it all himself, instead of disposing of the body. (I do think though that this scene from the script was deleted). But on the scenes we actually saw on the episode, it does give the impression that they did it together because later, when they’re on Hannibal’s study, Will says “we’re going to get caught” when they’re discussing Randall and the tableau, so again we’re made to believe they worked together. What is your view? Did they display Randall together or only Will?

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask. The world has indeed is becoming a darker and darker place - or maybe, with the Internet, it's just more obvious now. It seems like people can never just enjoy life, there is always horror and suffering and the indiffrence.

And yes, of course! I think Will staged Randall's body by himself, and while the scene that definitely proves it remained only in the script, I think there is still enough text in the show to heavily imply it.

It starts with Will admitting:

WILL GRAHAM: I don't think I've ever felt more alive than when I was killing him.

HANNIBAL: Then you owe Randall Tier a debt. How will you repay him?

This sounds like Hannibal wants to Will to mutilate Randall himself to repay him for becoming the sacrifice on the altar of his transformation.

Later, after Will, Hannibal, and Jack are watching the body, Jack and Hannibal present different theories, and Will disagrees with them both almost defensively:

WILL GRAHAM: He isn't mocking him. This isn't disdain. He's commemorating him.

To me, this means that positioning Randall like this was his idea, his way of expressing his feelings, and it's important for him to make his unique meaning clear to everyone, including Hannibal.

Then Will moves to the space of his own head, and he and imaginary Randall have this conversation:

RANDALL: You made me a monument.

WILL GRAHAM: You're welcome.

RANDALL: The monument is not to me. It's to you. This is pride.

WILL GRAHAM: I gave you what you want. This is who you are. What you feel finally matches the reality of what I see.

RANDALL: This is my becoming. And yours.

Will shakes his head, this is not his becoming.

Will: This is my design.

Randall says that Will in particular made him a monument, and Will speaks only about himself when explaining that he gave him what he wanted. The idea behind this monument is to show that Will is developing his own unique design - Hannibal shouldn't be involved in this because it's a deeply intimate thing that's unique to everyone, and while Will and Hannibal are absolutely soulmates, they still have different MOs and preferences. At this moment of time, Hannibal fully mastered his, but Will is only starting to spread his wings. The deleted scene from the script elaborates on this notion:

HANNIBAL: Why didn't you dispose of the body? It was the prudent course.

WILL GRAHAM: Randall deserved to be seen.

HANNIBAL: Randall, or your work on him?

WILL GRAHAM: You called it "artistry." Is that how you see your own efforts?

HANNIBAL: I also called it "savagery." You mutilated the body. Displayed it.

WILL GRAHAM: The bird is leaving the nest, Dr. Lecter. Spreading his wings.

HANNIBAL: How did it feel? To manipulate what was a living man into a message all of your own.

WILL GRAHAM: Like I wasn't finished till I had.

Hannibal absorbs this.

HANNIBAL: Did you take a trophy too, Will?

WILL GRAHAM: A memento of my first rodeo? What do you think?

HANNIBAL: I think it would be the act of a serial killer.

WILL GRAHAM: By definition, one body doesn't make me a serial killer.

Also, if Hannibal was there, I think he would be interested in what Will did to Randall's meat, and probably where he took his costume, which would lessen the impact of Will bringing this meat to him later on, passing it for Freddie's.

As for the "We're going to get caught," maybe you meant the scene in E12? Will says this to Hannibal after Mason and Freddie in the hope to bait him into killing Jack and escaping. This is not directly about Randall, Will meant their crimes in general.

HANNIBAL: Jack Crawford already suspects you killed Freddie Lounds.

WILL GRAHAM: If Jack told you he suspects me, it means he suspects you.

HANNIBAL: I know.

Will considers their options a moment, then:

WILL GRAHAM: You should give him what he wants.

HANNIBAL: Give him the Chesapeake Ripper?

WILL GRAHAM: Allow him closure. Reveal yourself. You've taunted him long enough. Let him see you with clear eyes.

So, I think the display of Randall was entirely Will's doing.

#hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram #season 2 #meta #randall tier

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