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voidpetrova · 3 months

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cash or credit? — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, use of marijuana, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, praise, sex under the influence — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: it's your first time trying weed, and you have no one to turn to but your best friend, who offers a different way for you to pay him back

✧.*

“absolutely not,”

“why the fuck not?”

“i'm not fucking selling you weed.”

you weren't exactly a persuasive person. negotiating wasn't exactly one of your specialties, a prime reason you were in the position you werw currently in, and not one of north carolina's most famous lawyers. you wanted to try some weed, wanted to see how it feels to get high. you've been a drinker up until this, knocking more than a few back with ease. a fan of cigarettes, too. you didn't care for spending money on them, though. why would you go through the trouble? stealing them from your best friend was easier.

“you're such a dick, dude,” you scoffed, waving the money you had brought in his face. you didn't know exactly how much you were getting, how much you needed, or how much it'd cost. so, you just brought a fifty for good measure. there was no way it was more than that. “i'm trying to expand your business here, you should be thanking me.”

rafe scoffed at you as he finished off what was left of his joint, inhaling the bitter smoke as he furrowed his eyebrows. “you're crazy if you think i'm gonna let you get high.” he argued after holding the smoke in, for as long as he could. now, it was your turn to scoff, “don't act like you care,” he shot an eyebrow up at your words. “if you don't sell it to me, some other shady asshole will. so, either help me or let me get laced.”

despite not being persuasive, you had a special way of pushing his buttons. “jesus fucking christ, c'mere,” he finally agreed, sighing in defeat as he motioned for you to come sit next to him. you were ecstatic, rushing over to sit next to him as you pulled him in for a hug. you felt him tense up under your touch, cheeks turning the prettiest shade of pink as you uttered out your “thank yous”.

the glass table set in front of him was laid with a variety of artifacts, some familiar to you while others weren't. you spotted his grinder, rolling paper, and his tinted bags of weed. the scent wasn't overwhelming, unlike the stern look he shot you. “you're not leaving my sight, you got that?” you nodded, patiently watching out for his next move.

he pulled out a sheet of rolling paper from the pack, the sheer material twirling between his fingertips. “if you're gonna smoke, may as well teach you how to roll,” he insisted, only half-joking as he shot you a smile. “first and last time i roll for you, you hear me?” that was a lie and he knew it, but you listened, nonetheless.

“take some weed, be gentle with it,” he began as he opened up his bag, revealing the dark green plant inside. “put it in the grinder, gotta open it up.” you watched closely, scanning the way his strong, long fingers pulled the grinder apart, layering the plant inside before closing it back up. “gonna grind it up just until it's fine, okay?” it was a weird thing to admit, but you couldn't help but enjoy the way he talked you through it. it made you feel stupid, but in a weird way, pleasant.

he worked the tool carefully, turning it toward the side, but not for long. as he removed the lid, you watched the way it had gone from whole to fine in a matter of seconds. “hand me the rolling paper, sweetheart.” you gulped, tensing up at the nickname, but you said nothing. you handed him the sheer sheet, watching as he flattened it out on the table. his fingers carefully picked at the green, layering it on the paper as closely as he could. “gotta leave some space before you start rolling.”

you frowned at the generous amount of weed he had been stuffing the paper with. “that not too much?” he let out a dry laugh, “if you're gonna smoke with me, gotta make sure i make it worth it.” you trusted him more than you trusted yourself, you trusted his experience and, unfortunately, him as a person. so, you said nothing.

after filling up the paper generously enough, you watched carefully, breath hitching in your throat as he brought the half-done joint up to his lips, swiping his tongue from the left corner to the right. you didn't know if it was voluntary or not, if it was just because of how close you were sitting next to him, but you couldn't ignore what the sight did to you. he seemed to have noticed it, too. “like what you see?” he smirked, earning a scoff from you as you snapped out of your trance. “less talking, more rolling.”

he had pressed tightly, rolling the joint in a tighr and orderly fashion, careful to watch out for loose ends and spills. he was a professional, he loved his work. the joint was formed in a matter of seconds, and he was all too pleased with himself. the filter held everything in place, thin paper wrapped around it carefully.

“let me just spark it up for you, yeah?” you nodded in agreement, watching as he placed the joint in between his lips. his lighter flickered, awaiting the flame that would ignite your newlyfound experience. he was careful not to burn the paper, finally setting it ablaze the right way before inhaling deeply. the smoke hit his lungs like thunder, but it was nothing new to him. he let out a sigh of relief before turning to you, passing you the joint.

there was no hesitation—you took it, rolling it in between your index finger and thumb as you pressed it to your lips. you ignored the way the scent shocked your lips, leaving a nasty burning sensation, as you inhaled deeply. rafe watched in admiration, eyebrows jolting at the fact that you hadn't ended up in a fit of coughs. you took it like a champ, keeping it in your lungs long enough to kickstart a buzz, even helping yourself to a second hit. “atta fucking girl, took it so good,” he cooed. you gulped, savoring the unique flavor in your mouth despite how dry it was. his words did something to you no law of science could explain. “thanks, rafey.” luckily for you, your chosen nickname had similar effects on him.

what was left of the joint spent the following minute or so being passed between you and rafe, until nothing was left to smoke. you had slouched your shoulders in disappointment at how fast the joint seemed to turn to ash, but rafe made up for it by rolling a new one. the process repeated itself once more—grind, sprinkle, lick, roll, smoke. when fifteen minutes followed the second joint, you were scared to stand up.

you had kicked your legs over rafe's lap, head beginning to spin each time you tried getting up, so you had accepted defeat. you leaned back, mouth dry as your legs tensed up, eliciting soft whines from your lips, earning rafe's attention. “so much for taking it well,” he smirked. you responded with another whine, “can't even think anymore.” he let out a soft laugh, his voice deeper than usual. “that's what makes it so fun.”

he had a point—it was as if your brain had finally turned itself off. nothing mattered, not even the dryness in your mouth, or the way your eyes burned. not with the way your head spinned, as if you were existing anywhere but the present. you pulled your arms behind your head, arching your back as you stretched, trying to rid yourself of the tension in your lats. rafe's eyes wandered and he couldn't help but stare at the way your back arched, tank top lifting to reveal your bare stomach and the bottom of your tits. your head was leaned back, pretty noises leaving your mouth and your eyes shut. he swallowed roughly, palm involuntarily pushing down against the strain in his pants.

he tried his hardest to pull it off, but the voice in his head had something better in mind. “should talk about how you're gonna pay me back, sunshine,” you pulled yourself back up, head tilting as you processed what he was saying. you shrugged, “how much money do you want?” rafe had to think about it for a second, having all the time in the world to ponder, before finally biting the bullet.

“don't want your fuckin' money.” for a second, you were confused. you had known him for a long time, and you've had your moments where nothing he said made any sense to you, and this was one of them. “what do you want then, rafey?”

every nerve inside your body was on fire as you watched him carefully. he met your eyes with his own red, low ones. his voice was deeper than usual, smoother than usual. today, his shirt seemed tighter. his legs seemed more spread apart. to prevent your eyes from trailing down any lower, you had to shut them light. “look at me,” he whispered. just like always, you did as you were told, eyes fluttering open as you met his gaze. you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, wetting it, desperate for some kind of moisture. he spread his legs just a bit more, before beckoning for you to come over. for you to sit. “c'mere.”

one word was all it had taken for you to give in, as much as he let you. you crawled over towards him, his eyes of admiration dropping from your face to the open valley of your breasts as you did so. when your faces were inches apart, he found himself cupping your jaw, thumbing your soft skin. “just thought of a way you could pay me back,” he purred. “you think you can be good for me?”

all you had come over for was the chance to experience a new high, wanting to see what the big deal was. if you had known this was what fate had in store for you, you'd have done it much sooner. “i can be good for you,” you assured him, and he smiled for what seemed more than genuine.

the air crackled with anticipation as he closed the distance, his fingers grazing your cheek. the world faded away, leaving only the pulsating heat of the moment. rafe's lips met yours in a fiery dance, a blend of passion and longing. time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, sending shivers down your spine. in that stolen moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that remained was your searing connection. he practically growled as he wrapped his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap.

“no idea how long i've been waiting to do that,” you smiled at his words as you pulled away, only to pull your tank top off your body. “no idea how long i've been waiting for you to do that.”

you could feel him poking you through your shorts, your clothed, damp panties. he was big, you could tell. it was something you found yourself wondering more often than necessary, but he was big. rock hard while you pressed your cunt against him, rocking your hips. he let out a moan, one of the prettiest sounds you have ever heard in your life, and you were sure you wanted to hear more of it. he could feel himself growing harder while you grew wetter, whining as he took one of your tits in his mouth, hand wrapped around the other.

“thank god you came to me for this,” he hummed, pressing a final kiss to your tit before working on ridding himself of his own clothes. “if you'd done this with any other fucker, i'd kill him on the spot.”

you shook your head, watching carefully as he pulled his shirt off, carefully revealing himself to you little by little. “just for you, rafey.” he seemed satisfied with your answer.

he wanted to take his time with you, having fantasized about this moment in particular forever. though, a part of him just wanted to having you a moaning mess beneath him. your hand slid up his bare chest, eyes glossy with impatience as he rid himself of his boxers. “need you to fuck me, rafey.”

“gonna be the death of me,” he shook his head, hand pressed thoughtlessly against the front of your thigh, spreading you wider while in his lap. “but not before i stretch this pussy.” he sighed under his breath, ever so eagerly pressing a finger between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the sheer material. you sucked in a breath, and released it with a hiccup, his eyes leaving your cunt to look at you as you did so. “take 'em off, baby.” he delivered a light slap to your clothed clit, a smirk gracing his lips when you jolted with a whine. you wriggled out of them, unsure of what to do with them so you reach to throw them to the side, but rafe beats you to it. he's quick to throw them but not before pressing them to his nose, dick twitching as he inhaled your sweet scent, leaving you flushed with embarrassment.

when he'd finally pushed into you, his blonde bangs shook against his forehead as he looked up at you, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cried with each passing second. moans were practically shoved out of you, like there was no room to keep them inside while he buried himself to the balls in your little cunt. quickening his pace, slapping skin on skin because of what he had been missing out on for so long.

“rafey, too fucking much,” you sobbed, lost in what seemed to be pain and pleasure, clutching his toned arms. he pushed your hand off of him, picking you up just slightly by your thighs. for a second, you'd been granted a reprieve, but that was only a warm-up, slotting his hands under your thighs to raise you, biceps aching from the process. for a second, you catched your ragged breath, until he slammed you back onto his dick. he didn't think to ease you on inch after inch, no, he bottomed out right away, plunging his length into you. you thought it was hard before, now you were on the verge of tears, thoughtlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a time-out.

he kept his absolute focus on you as he watched with low eyes, dick twitching at the sight of you bouncing on his dick despite the pain, your eyes red and teary as your tits bounched with every movement, a ring of cream forming around his shaft, and he couldn't resist smirking. you spasmed, clutching around his cock. “sweet little cunt sucking my dick in, yeah?” he cooed rhetorically, batting his eyelashes tauntingly. “best not be letting anyone fuck this pussy after me.”

you balled your little fingers up at the pain, weakly hitting your fist against his chest, taut from his hold on you, fingernails digging into your skin as you struggled to fight him. “no one's gonna fuck me but you, rafey, i swear!” he smirked at the response, “just got started and you're already so desperate f'my dick.” he deliberately pushed your hips down against his pelvis, introducing a deeper way for his cock to drill into you, and in turn, pistoning his dick into you in a way that had your eyes rolling. his movements, telling himself to be slow and careful, caused him to tremble from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucked you. your legs were spread for him as he watched you drench his dick in your juices.

“i'll split you in half if i catch you with another guy.” he was so deep inside that you could feel his tight balls against you. he was stretching you out so wide that you felt like he was piercing you. his hips picked up a relentless pace, snapping up against yours so hard that the sofa trembled under his ass. “no one else, rafe, i promise. only you get to have me.” he loves the idea of it so much that's he's chasing his high now, snarling as he rubs your puffy clit, dick pounding into you as you moan some more, stomach twisting and turning as you gush some more.

by then, your whole body was convulsing, and you'd been void of any energy. rafe knew that, it was crystal clear. he fumbled your bouncing tits as his mouth hung open, snarls passing his lips as he stuffed you as much as possible. his cock split you in half with each hard thrust, hands migrating to the back of your thighs, spreading you as he pounded you, cock twitching as tears slid down your cheeks.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” you warned. he slammed into you a few more times before his balls tightened, and before you knww it, he was spurting his seed into you with the most delicious groan you’d ever heard. you finally came, drunk from his cock and so far gone that you wondered if you were even alive anymore. you were, in fact, very much alive. you knew it when you looked into his eyes, shaking in his lap as he remained plunged into your pussy, fingertips stroking your fleshy thighs. he couldn't resist smiling at the sight of you.

“wanna roll another one?”

#obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #dealer!rafe

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a-small-safe-place · 4 months

Text

New Addition

Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader

You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.

“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.

“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”

Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.

“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.

The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”

“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”

“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.

Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.

Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.

"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."

"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.

"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.

"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.

"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.

As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.

Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.

#yandere platonic #platonic yandere #platonic #yandere family #yandere will graham #yandere hannibal lecter #hannibal x will #platonic will graham #platonic hannibal lecter #child!reader #gender neutral reader #fem!reader #male!reader #yandere will graham and hannibal lecter #father and child #yandere dad #yandere parents #soft yandere

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sonamytrash · 3 months

Text

Midnight

Underground Virgin!Levi x Virgin!Femreader

MDNI

Warnings: y/n used, Childhood friends to lovers, fluff, smut, puberty mentioned, masturbation mentioned, fingering, sex, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, mentions of prostitution, characters ages aren't mentioned, but it's suggested they're both in their late teens, of age when writing but could be interpreted as underage? Virgin levi, virgin reader.

Note: Kind of wanted to write something about Levi losing his virginity and give him the blessing of something in his life that wasn't all bad. Reader and Levi have grown up together. Feelings have blossomed, and desires have been ignited over the years. The underground is a tough place to live with sex and violence everywhere. There's no smut in the first chapter, but it is heavily suggestive. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

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In a world where the sun never shines, where the only light comes from flickering Street lights, candles, and the occasional spark from a fire, three souls found solace together in front of a fire. The underground city was a maze of dimly lit tunnels, cramped living quarters, and a constant struggle for survival. You had grown up together, survived together, and lived together in this harsh, unforgiving environment.

Your landlord was a cruel and greedy man, having come to you the with news that he wanted his rent earlier than usual, probably because he owed someone else the money or had pissed his own money up the wall. You couldn't afford to be out on the streets again. It wasn't hard to find a crook to rent a small apartment to three teenagers. But his terms were unreasonable.

Desperation and stress hung heavy in the air. You were usually the type to try and remain cheery, strong, and resilient, but these sorts of situations made you anxious. Finding money down here was hard enough, but being given less time to find it was so much more stressful. "I-I don't know what we're going to do," you stammered. "There has to be some way to make the money quickly." Furlan said thoughtfully as he tried to reassure you, but even his words sounded hollow. It really wasn't much time to get the money together.

You were always aware of the easiest way for a girl to make money down here. Selling your body to some piece of shit man to use for pleasure. It was quick and easy cash that much was true. If you were lucky enough to get paid, that is. The attempt to make any money that way came with many risks. Most women down here lived in fear of getting raped, abused, and even killed before the added risk of being a working girl. Having grown up with Levi and Furlan, they had kept you safe. Currently, you worked a part-time job at the morgue, which didn't pay well but allowed you to learn and study to some extent. But in recent years, since hitting puberty and developing into a young woman, the pressure had been more intense, men often offering plenty of money for the opportunity to have their way with you. Although this sort of interaction would result in being beaten to a pulp by Levi, he would die before he allowed you to have to resort to sex work. And you were grateful for that. The thought of having to resort to prostitution, a common but desperate measure, filled you with dread.

Levi, said nothing. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tightening with anger. You glanced at him, concerned. "Levi, if we need the money I can-" You asked softly, stopping when you saw him look up at you, his eyes burning with a fierce protectiveness. "I'm not going to let you do that," he said, his voice steady and unyielding.

You frowned. "It will guarantee us the money."

"Y/N" He said sternly. "I won't let you go out there and sell yourself for us to survive. I'll find another way. I promise." You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty, but found none. There was only determination.

You nod in response, feeling reassured for now by his words. "I've got to go out. I'll be back around midnight, okay?" He states. Again, this wasn't uncommon. You worried about him and where he was going but even if you asked he wouldn't have told you. Criminal and immoral are the exact words that he himself would've used to describe his work, he was probably going to go and find some quick and easy job, guaranteed to pay but always carried so many risks. Furlan smiles gently at you as he follows Levi out of the door.

Having had a bath and tidied up a little. You toss and turn in bed for hours, lost in your own thoughts. You knew Levi would keep you safe to an extent, but nothing was guaranteed down here. Even if you didn't end up in a brothel, there was nothing stopping anyone from breaking into the apartment you shared now while the boys were gone, you could he kidnapped, raped and murdered any night, or day for that matter. You shudder at the thought. You wanted as much of your life to be in your own hands and control as possible. It wasn't like you wanted to stay a virgin forever, while still being young, you were old by the standards of the underground, which made you laugh. You wanted your first time to be something you choose, not something taken from you. You had desires and thoughts late at night like this when you were alone. Always of your stoic companion. You weren't sure when your feelings towards him became romantic, but it frightened you. He was difficult to read, but you were sure that there could be something there. And if there wasn't? Well, you were sure you could convince yourself that you would be satisfied to just be by his side in whatever capacity the universe will allow. Maybe you would be fortunate enough to be born as a princess in the next life, and he would be your Prince charming. You roll your eyes and laugh at the thought. A girl could dream, and your fantasy of prince's, pretty dresses and castles, however impossible it was did help you to fall asleep for a few hours before you were abruptly awoken by the sound of Levi and Furlan returning. You could recognise the sound of Furlans footsteps retiring to his small room at the end of the corridor. It sounded like Levi was still in the living room. You sit up in bed and light a candle.

Levi walks over to your door, having noticed the light emitting from beneath. A heavy sigh escapes him, his eyes carrying a look of exhaustion. As he knocks on your door just once, his voice is soft.

"Can I come in?"

You respond with a sleepy yes, and Levi pauses for a moment before he comes into the room. His eyes shift to your bed, and he realizes that you're only wearing a tank top and underwear. He doesn't let his eyes roam over you for more than a second, trying to focus on something else in the room before speaking up, sounding worried:

"Are you alright? Why aren't you sleeping?"

You smile. "I was, and I wasn't, I fell asleep not long ago, but I heard you come home. Is everything okay?" You ask him concerned.

Levi nods as he sits down on the edge of your bed.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Sorry if I woke you up. You should get back to sleep." He smiles softly, something only you and you alone are ever lucky enough to see. You gently tug his arm. "Stay, just for a little longer." A blush creeping across your cheeks. This was a bold move for you. Maybe you were still slightly delirious from having just woken up.

Levi looks down at your hand as it lays on his arm. A slight blush creeps up on his cheeks as he looks up at you again. Your messy hair, dreary eyes, and smile are just too cute. He doesn't know what he would do without you. He hates that he can't find a way to get you all out of this cesspit. You're like the moon that continues to shine on the darkest night. He's already resided himself to do anything to keep you safe and by his side. He feels guilty that this sight of you is making his cock twitch. The years have been kind to you and you're such a beautiful young woman now, each and every night his hand is tightly gripped around his cock at the thought of you. Seeing you like this, the covers barely covering your panties and your nipples visible through your tank top is all the more fuel for his desires. But he knows how it is for girls down here, he saw what life was like for his mother, he sees it daily in the streets. He would never dream of treating you with anything but the respect you deserve. Not only that, but the thought of jeopardising the relationship that you have now should he tell you how he feels, loosing you would really plummet his life into eternal darkness.

He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I can stay for a little bit." He says softly. "Since you're such a brat if you don't get your own way." He teases.

You pout playfully at him, he chuckles as he shifts a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you with his arm around your shoulder, you nestle into his chest. A slight blush appears on his cheeks, which he immediately hides by turning his face away from you. "You're not still worrying about the money, are you? Is that why you're acting so needy?." He asks quietly

You shake your head. "Not anymore, I know it won't come to that." He nods, relieved that it isn't worrying you any longer. He's pulled from his thoughts when you speak up again. "I'm grateful. I know what I want for myself. And it's thanks to you that I'm able to make my own choices." You lift your head to meet his gaze, your face painted with a furious blush. "I'm ready to make my own choices."

Levi chuckles. "Well, you're spoilt for choice if that's the case." He says, trying to ignore the pang of jealously he can feel in the pit of his stomach.

You shake your head "That's not what I mean, Vi." You nervously bring your palm to his cheek. "I want to be with someone I trust, someone I love."

Levi stares at you. Blushing slightly at your words. You have grown into a young woman who's a lot braver than he gives you credit for. A small smile forms on his face, but he's still hesitant to say all the things he wants to.

Levi tries to keep his usual cool exterior "A-Are...Are you saying what I think you're saying right now?"

You nod nervously. Averting your gaze, you have said enough for someone as intuitive as Levi to piece together. The seconds seem to last forever, but he finally gives you his response with a soft and gentle tone:

"I... I want that, too."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #underground levi #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi aot #minors do not interact #aot smut #build up #fluff #friends to lovers #levi ackerman x reader

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hidden-poet · 3 months

Text

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.

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Chapter 2

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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.

You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.

You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.

It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.

It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.

Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.

You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.

All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.

The money was at least a month's work.

You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.

You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.

Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.

The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.

You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.

Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.

You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.

Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.

You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.

You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.

There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.

You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.

"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".

You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.

With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.

You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.

'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.

"No, Sir".

"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".

You could tell he was upset with you.

"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"

You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.

'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.

"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.

"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"

He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.

"Ungrateful brat".

"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"

"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".

You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.

"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".

You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.

He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.

"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".

You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.

"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".

"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"

He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".

"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".

You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.

"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"

"Ye-yes" you stutter.

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"yes" you repeat.

"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".

"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"

"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"

"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.

"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.

His thumbs circles on your throat.

"I had to work back" you admit.

"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.

"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".

"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".

You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.

"Lets see it" he demands.

With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.

He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.

"My coins".

"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"

Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.

"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".

It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.

You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.

He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".

He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.

You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.

Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.

"If I had known" you start.

"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.

You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.

"Keep them. You earnt them".

You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.

He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.

he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.

He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.

"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.

'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".

"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.

"We're friends, right?"

You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.

"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".

"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.

"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".

He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.

"What?" you breathe.

His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.

The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.

He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.

"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.

You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.

"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"

"I don't want-"

He sh's you.

"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".

"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.

"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".

The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.

"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.

The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.

'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.

"I am not sure" you reply honestly.

-----------

You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.

You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.

You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.

Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.

They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.

It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.

He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.

"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.

The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.

"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.

It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.

'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.

He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.

Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.

"I should go" you state.

"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.

You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.

He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.

"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.

It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.

Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.

He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.

"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.

He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.

"Give it to me".

You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.

Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.

"It's very dear to me, Sir".

"I'll take very good care of it".

You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.

"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.

You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.

He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.

"There's sugar there if you want it".

You stand up angry.

"I don't want it. I have to get to work".

You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.

Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.

"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.

"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".

"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.

You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.

It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.

You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.

No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.

----------

On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.

Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.

You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.

Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.

He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.

You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.

He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.

The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.

You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.

He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.

Your next box would be smaller.

A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.

He was going to be left behind at his current rate.

"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.

"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.

''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".

He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.

The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.

Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.

The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.

You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.

"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.

You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.

"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".

The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.

You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.

You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.

It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.

Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.

he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.

The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.

The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.

Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.

The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.

You tighten your hold and spin to face him.

You looked shocked to see him.

"Commander Snow, sir"

A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.

He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.

"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"

"I'll be fine on my own, sir"

"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".

Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.

"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.

You turn away, curling your body around the child.

"No. It's ok. I've got him".

Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.

You could always swap half way if you wanted.

"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".

We're. we. us. The partners in crime.

He bucks his chest out with confidence.

You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.

"He's alright" you insist.

The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.

He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.

"Are you following me?"

"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".

Close enough to the truth.

"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"

His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.

"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.

You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,

"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"

You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".

He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.

'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".

You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.

"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.

You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.

He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.

You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.

"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.

You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.

"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.

"Who's to say I don't know em".

"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".

He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.

"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".

You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.

He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.

He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.

You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.

You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".

He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.

"it might just be best if i go on with him".

He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.

'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.

The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.

You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.

"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.

Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.

He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.

"Do you want children?" He matches your pace

"No" you spat, "never".

Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.

But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.

"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".

You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.

Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.

"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.

His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.

He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.

A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.

He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.

The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.

It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.

oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.

"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".

You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.

"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".

He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.

"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".

This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.

"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.

It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.

"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".

Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.

"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".

It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.

His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.

The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.

You might be beaten for your rejection.

You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.

Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.

He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.

"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".

You trash under him, screaming.

His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.

His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.

''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".

He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.

"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".

His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.

The weight upon your hands hurt.

"Yes, Sir".

"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".

You give two little nods.

"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".

He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.

You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.

The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.

You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.

"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".

You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.

He nods in understanding.

"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.

You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.

You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.

You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.

It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.

-----------

Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.

The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.

The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.

Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.

"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".

Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.

A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.

The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.

Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.

The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.

Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.

He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.

More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.

Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.

You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.

You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.

But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.

You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.

Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.

He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".

Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.

You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.

You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.

The rage in your eyes matches his.

---------

Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.

You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.

He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.

You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.

Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.

"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.

He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.

You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.

"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.

I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.

"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.

"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".

"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".

It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.

He wanted to slap you until you did.

But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.

"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".

You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.

"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.

"Give me the shoes" you demanded.

He drops the shoes to the ground.

"come and get them" he taunts.

You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.

He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.

"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".

You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.

he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.

This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.

He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.

"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".

He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.

But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.

He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.

He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #dead dove do not eat #tom blyth #president snow #hunger games #Commander snow

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Social Quitting

In “Social Quitting,” my latest Locus Magazine column, I advance a theory to explain the precipitous vibe shift in how many of us view the once-dominant social media platforms, Facebook and Twitter, and how it is that we have so quickly gone asking what we can do to get these services out of our lives to where we should go now that we’re all ready to leave them:

https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/

The core of the argument revolves around surpluses — that is, the value that exists in the service. For a user, surpluses are things like “being able to converse with your friends” and “being able to plan activities with your friends.” For advertisers, surpluses are things like “being able to target ads based on the extraction and processing of private user data” and “being able to force users to look at ads before they can talk to one another.”

For the platforms, surpluses are things like, “Being able to force advertisers and business customers to monetize their offerings through the platform, blocking rivals like Onlyfans, Patreon, Netflix, Amazon, etc” and things like “Being able to charge more for ads” and “being able to clone your business customers’ products and then switch your users to the in-house version.”

Platforms control most of the surplus-allocating options. They can tune your feed so that it mostly consists of media and text from people you explicitly chose to follow, or so that it consists of ads, sponsored posts, or posts they think will “boost engagement” by sinking you into a dismal clickhole. They can made ads skippable or unskippable. They can block posts with links to rival sites to force their business customers to transact within their platform, so they can skim fat commissions every time money changes hands and so that they can glean market intelligence about which of their business customers’ products they should clone and displace.

But platforms can’t just allocate surpluses will-ye or nill-ye. No one would join a brand-new platform whose sales-pitch was, “No matter who you follow, we’ll show you other stuff; there will be lots of ads that you can’t skip; we will spy on you a lot.” Likewise, no one would sign up to advertise or sell services on a platform whose pitch was “Our ads are really expensive. Any business you transact has to go through us, and we’ll take all your profits in junk fees. This also lets us clone you and put you out of business.”

Instead, platforms have to carefully shift their surpluses around: first they have to lure in users, who will attract business customers, who will generate the fat cash surpluses that can be creamed off for the platforms’ investors. All of this has to be orchestrated to lock in each group, so that they won’t go elsewhere when the service is enshittified as it processes through its life-cycle.

This is where network effects and switching costs come into play. A service has “network effects” if it gets more valuable as users join it. You joined Twitter to talk to the people who were already using it, and then other people joined so they could talk to you.

“Switching costs” are what you have to give up when you leave a service: if a service is siloed — if it blocks interoperability with rivals — then quitting that service means giving up access to the people whom you left behind. This is the single most important difference between ActivityPub-based Fediverse services like Mastodon and the silos like Twitter and Facebook — you can quit a Fediverse server and set up somewhere else, and still maintain your follows and followers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/23/semipermeable-membranes/#free-as-in-puppies

In the absence of interoperability, network effects impose their own switching cost: the “collective action problem” of deciding when to leave and where to go. If you depend on the people you follow and who follow you — for emotional support, for your livelihood, for community — then the extreme difficulty of convincing everyone to leave at the same time and go somewhere else means that you can be enticed into staying on a service that you no longer enjoy. The platforms can shift the surpluses away from you, provided that doing so makes you less miserable than abandoning your friends or fans or customers would. This is the Fiddler On the Roof problem: everyone stays put in the shtetl even though the cossacks ride through on the reg and beat the shit out of them, because they can’t all agree on where to go if they leave:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms-9fc550fe5abf

So the first stage of the platform lifecycle is luring in users by allocating lots of surplus to them — making the service fun and great and satisfying to use. Few or no ads, little or no overt data-collection, feeds that emphasize the people you want to hear from, not the people willing to pay to reach you.

This continues until the service attains a critical mass: once it becomes impossible to, say, enroll your kid in a little-league baseball team without having a Facebook account, then Facebook can start shifting its surpluses to advertisers and other business-users of the platform, who will pay Facebook to interpose themselves in your use of the platform. You’ll hate it, but you won’t leave. Junior loves little-league.

Facebook can enshittify its user experience because the users are now locked in, holding each other hostage. If Facebook can use the courts and technological countermeasures to block interoperable services, it can increase its users’ switching costs, producing more opportunities for lucrative enshittification without the risk of losing the users that make Facebook valuable to advertisers. That’s why Facebook pioneered so many legal tactics for criminalizing interoperability:

https://www.eff.org/cases/facebook-v-power-ventures

This is the second phase of the toxic platform life-cycle: luring in business customers by shifting surpluses from users to advertisers, sellers, etc. This is the moment when the platforms offer cheap and easy monetization, low transaction fees, few barriers to off-platform monetization, etc. This is when, for example, a news organization can tease an article on its website with an off-platform link, luring users to click through and see the ads it controls.

Because Facebook has locked in its users through mutual hostage-taking, it can pollute their feeds with lots of these posts to news organizations’ sites, bumping down the messages from its users’ friends, and that means that Facebook can selectively tune how much traffic it gives to different kinds of business customers. If Facebook wants to lure in sports sites, it can cram those sites’ posts into millions of users’ feeds and send floods of traffic to sports outlets.

Outlets that don’t participate in Facebook lose out, and so they join Facebook, start shoveling their content into it, hiring SEO Kremlinologists to help them figure out how to please The Algorithm, in hopes of gaining a permanent, durable source of readers (and thus revenue) for their site.

But ironically, once a critical mass of sports sites are on Facebook, Facebook no longer needs to prioritize sports sites in its users’ feeds. Now that the sports sites all believe that a Facebook presence is a competitive necessity, they will hold each other hostage there, egging each other on to put more things on Facebook, even as the traffic dwindles.

Once sports sites have taken each other hostage, Facebook can claw back the surplus it allocated to them and use it to rope in another sector — health sites, casual games, employment seekers, financial advisors, etc etc. Each group is ensnared by a similar dynamic to the one that locks in the users.

But there is a difference between users’ surpluses and business’s surpluses. A user’s surplus is attention, and there is no such thing as an “attention economy.” You can’t use attention to pay for data-centers, or executive bonuses, or to lobby Congress. Attention is not a currency in the same way that cryptos are not currency — it is not a store of value, nor a unit of exchange, nor or a unit of account.

Turning attention into money requires the same tactics as turning crypto into money — you have to lure in people who have real, actual money and convince them to swap it for attention. With crypto, this involved paying Larry David, Matt Damon, Spike Lee and LeBron James to lie about crypto’s future in order to rope in suckers who would swap their perfectly cromulent “fiat” money for unspendable crypto tokens.

With platforms, you need to bring in business customers who get paid in actual cash and convince them to give you that cash in exchange for ethereal, fast-evaporating, inconstant, unmeasurable “attention.” This works like any Ponzi scheme (that is, it works like cryptos): you can use your shareholders’ cash to pay short-term returns to business customers, losing a little money as a convincer that brings in more trade.

That’s what Facebook did when it sent enormous amounts of traffic to a select few news-sites that fell for the pivot to video fraud, in order to convince their competitors to borrow billions of dollars to finance Facebook’s bid to compete with Youtube:

https://doctorow.medium.com/metaverse-means-pivot-to-video-adbe09319038

This convincer strategy is found in every con. If you go to the county fair, you’ll see some poor bastard walking around all day with a giant teddy bear that he “won” by throwing three balls into a peach-basket. The carny who operated that midway game let him win the teddy precisely so that he would walk around all day, advertising the game, which is rigged so that no one else wins the giant teddy-bear:

https://boingboing.net/2006/08/27/rigged-carny-game.html

Social media platforms can allocate giant teddy-bears to business-customers, and it can also withdraw them at will. Careful allocations mean that the platform can rope in a critical mass of business customers and then begin the final phase of its life-cycle: allocating surpluses to its shareholders.

We know what this looks like.

Rigged ad-markets:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

Understaffed content moderation departments:

https://www.dw.com/en/twitters-sacking-of-content-moderators-will-backfire-experts-warn/a-63778330

Knock-off products:

https://techcrunch.com/2021/12/08/twitter-is-the-latest-platform-to-test-a-tiktok-copycat-feature/

Nuking “trust and safety”:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/twitter-dissolves-trust-safety-council-2022-12-13/

Hiding posts that have links to rival services:

https://www.makeuseof.com/content-types-facebook-hides-why/

Or blocking posts that link to rival services:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/19/better-failure/#let-my-tweeters-go

Or worse, terminating accounts for linking to rival services:

https://blog.joinmastodon.org/2022/12/twitter-suspends-mastodon-account-prevents-sharing-links/

That is, once a platform has its users locked in, and has its business customers locked in, it can enshittify its service to the point of near uselessness without losing either, allocating all the useful surplus in the business to its shareholders.

But this strategy has a problem: users and business customers don’t like to be locked in! They will constantly try to find ways to de-enshittify your service and/or leave for greener pastures. And being at war with your users and business customers means that your reputation continuously declines, because every time a user or business customer figures out a way to claw back some surplus, you have to visibly, obviously enshittify your service wrestle it back.

Every time a service makes headlines for blocking an ad-blocker, or increasing its transaction fees, or screwing over its users or business customers in some other way, it makes the case that the price you pay for using the service is not worth the value it delivers.

In other words, the platforms try to establish an equilibrium where they only leave business customers and users with the absolute bare minimum needed to keep them on the service, and extract the rest for their shareholders. But this is a very brittle equilibrium, because the prices that platforms impose on their users and business customers can change very quickly, even if the platforms don’t do anything differently.

Users and business customers can revalue the privacy costs, or the risks of staying on the platform based on exogenous factors. Privacy scandals and other ruptures can make the cost you’ve been paying for years seem higher than you realized and no longer worth it.

This problem isn’t unique to social media platforms, either. It’s endemic to end-stage capitalism, where companies can go on for years paying their workers just barely enough to survive (or even less, expecting them to get public assistance and/or a side-hustle), and those workers can tolerate it, and tolerate it, and tolerate it — until one day, they stop.

The Great Resignation, Quiet Quitting, the mass desertions from the gig economy — they all prove the Stein’s Law: “Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop.”

Same for long, brittle supply-chains, where all the surplus has been squeezed out: concentrating all the microchip production in China and Taiwan, all the medical saline in Puerto Rico, all the shipping into three cartels… This strategy works well, and can be perfectly tuned with mathematical models that cut right to the joint, and they work and they work.

Until they stop. Until covid. Or war. Or wildfires. Or floods. Or interest rate hikes. Or revolution. All this stuff works great until you wake up and discover that the delicate balance between paying for guard labor and paying for a fair society has tilted, and now there’s a mob building a guillotine outside the gates of your luxury compound.

This is the force underpinning collapse: “slow at first, then all at once.” A steady erosion of the failsafes, flensing all the slack out of the system, extracting all the surpluses until there’s nothing left in the reservoir, no reason to stay.

It’s what caused the near-collapse of Barnes and Noble, and while there are plenty of ways to describe James Daunt’s successful turnaround, the most general characterization is, “He has reallocated the company’s surpluses to workers, readers, writers and publishers”:

https://tedgioia.substack.com/p/what-can-we-learn-from-barnes-and

A system can never truly stabilize. This is why utopias are nonsense: even if you design the most perfect society in which everything works brilliantly, it will still have to cope with war and meteors and pandemics and other factors beyond your control. A system can’t just work well, it has to fail well.

This is why I object so strenuously to people who characterize my 2017 novel Walkaway as a “dystopian novel.” Yes, the protagonists are eking out survival amidst a climate emergency and a failing state, but they aren’t giving up, they’re building something new:

https://locusmag.com/2017/06/bruce-sterling-reviews-cory-doctorow/

“Dystopia” isn’t when things go wrong. Assuming nothing will go wrong doesn’t make you an optimist, it makes you an asshole. A dangerous asshole. Assuming nothing will go wrong is why they didn’t put enough lifeboats on the Titanic. Dystopia isn’t where things go wrong. Dystopia is when things go wrong, and nothing can be done about it.

Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop. The social media barons who reeled users and business customers into a mutual hostage-taking were confident that their self-licking ice-cream cone — in which we all continued to energetically produce surpluses for them to harvest, because we couldn’t afford to leave — would last forever.

They were wrong. The important thing about the Fediverse isn’t that it’s noncommercial or decentralized — it’s that its design impedes surplus harvesting. The Fediverse is designed to keep switching costs as low as possible, by enshrining the Right Of Exit into the technical architecture of the system. The ability to leave a service without paying a price is the best defense we have against the scourge of enshittification.

(Thanks to Tim Harford for inspiring this column via an offhand remark in his kitchen a couple months ago!)

[Image ID: The Phillip Medhurst Picture Torah 397. The Israelites collect manna. Exodus cap 16 v 14. Luyken and son.]

#pluralistic #social media #post-twitter #post-facebook #switching costs #network effects #web theory #locus magazine #exodus #decentralization

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months

Note

hi i love your work a lot i've been reading it a lot during this difficult blood moon time. i have a request if you don't mind tackling it!! this is gonna be very specific, but yandere! stalker x reader, BUT the yandere is not stalking reader -- the yandere is stalking a popular girl the reader knows in passing, and reader figures "well, i could use some extra cash", so reader approaches stalker and offers to sell phone numbers of popular girl, hangs out with stalker, and unintentionally ends up becoming the new target of stalker. surprised pikachu face on reader's end that her plan has backfired. bonus points if popular girl that same morning is like "i think stalker guy has finally stopped following me" before the reveal. thank you for reading :)

Based on your post, Imma assume she/her pronouns for our darling (you know what, I relate, gimme the money lmaoooo)

(Reader) slammed her hand down onto the cafe's table, startling the nervous looking man hiding behind his long, shaggy hair. He had been so focused on staring at Jenny (❤️), the angel of campus, and his unrequited love (of three months). Axle fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it on the floor as he scurried to hide it in his lap.

"Um.. hi?" His exhausted eyes darted around the coffee shop, too nervous to look directly at the woman standing above him. "May I help you?"

"So you're Jenny's stalker." (Reader) smiled coyly, pulling a chair closer towards Axle so she could sit uncomfortably close to him.

His pasty skin flushed deep maroon, sweating under the harsh accusation . "No, you're wrong, I-I'm not-"

The poor hooded man was cut off by (Reader) grabbing his camera, too horrified by the situation to make a scene in the packed area. (Reader) flipped through the pictures, her smile fading as her eyebrows knit into a disappointed scowl.

"Damn, these pictures... suuuuck."

Axle was shocked, not expecting that response. "What?" His face went slack like a fish, unable to compute the young woman's critique.

"They're all... blurry. And, off center? Out of focus..." She handed back his camera, now with a look of mild pity. "Dude.."

With shaky hands, Axle yanked the camera back, not knowing if he should still be scared that he was caught, or offended.

"When Jenny was talking about how nervous she felt, having a stalker, I thought.. I thought you would be different." (Reader) cupped her chin in her hands, leaning in further, forcing Axle to lean awkwardly to the side, away from the strange woman. She seemed to be debating something, carefully contemplating her next steps. "Are you going to kill her?"

Axle gasped, mortified. "No! No, I would never!" He denied, a little louder than he had meant to. Axle sat stiff, fiddling with his camera. "I just.. really like her." A cute little blush dusted his cheeks, making (Reader) pray she wasn't being a fool.

She slipped a hand into her jacket pocket, and pulled out a picture of Jenny, one not from her social media. Axle grabbed it, admiring how the sunlight looked like a halo illuminating Jenny's hair. "Where did you get this?" Axle asked, full of awe as he stroked the image.

"I took it." (Reader) replied smugly. "Do you want it?"

Axle nodded, unable to pry his eyes away from the image. (Reader) pulled the picture back out of his hands, watching him whimper with a cold, unamused expression on her face.

"Twenty bucks."

"Huh?"

"Twenty bucks, and this is yours." (Reader) sat back in her seat like a mob boss, legs spread wide and head cocked to the side.

Axle yanked his wallet out, and fished out a twenty, absolutely giddy over receiving such a wonderful picture of his beloved.

"Pleasure making business." (Reader) smiled, pleased with how easy it was to trap Axle in her web. "Of course, with how awful you are at stalking, will you be okay with just that little picture?"

The young man froze. Of course, she was right. He was clumsy and skittish, often getting noticed while following Jenny, getting chased by campus police. Even the pictures he took of her were rubbish. "What do you mean?" Axle asked only to be sure he wasn't misunderstanding the situation.

"I'll help you out. I'll continue taking pictures for you, get you private information on Jenny, whatever you want. And you pay me."

He smiled oddly. "Pay? What you're doing is a crime, and you're fine with that?"

(Reader) grinned back childishly. "As long as you pay me."

Despite how uncomfortable Axle was with the strange young woman who hadn't even introduced herself, he couldn't pass up this opportunity.

~ 1 week later ~

Axle waited behind a dumpster, not quite sure how X had gotten his phone number. He still hadn't learned the mystery woman's name, only that she was eccentric, and possibly watched too many crime thrillers. (Reader) had told him to call her X, thinking it best that he didn't know her true identity.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when (Reader) popped up behind him. "You got the cash?" Axle squeaked, grabbing his heart.

"You scared me!" Axle stuttered out, looking better than he had the first time they met. His hair was no longer greasy, and the bags under his eyes had lightened up.

'Looks like he's had more time to take care of himself, now that I'm doing the dirty work for him.' (Reader) thought, staring daggers at Axle. He became flustered under her gaze, shifting anxiously.

"What are you looking at?"

"Just wondering why you're stalking Jenny in the first place." Axle pouted, thinking that maybe this was just a set up to bully him. "You're actually pretty handsome when you've showered."

"Huh?"

"Like, conventionally speaking, by societal standards, you are attractive. Maybe stop slouching and find a better jacket? But yeah, pretty sure if you took care of yourself and just approached Jenny like a normal human being she would have liked you."

His ears became warm at (Reader's) words, trying not to smile at the image of Jenny calling him handsome.

"But, better for me that you're a weirdo." (Reader) smiled playfully, holding out a manila envelope full of pictures she had printed out. "Money!" She said it like a question, empty hand opened expectantly.

Axle grumbled, plopping a wad of cash into her hand as he grabbed the envelope, heart palpitating as he saw more exquisite pictures of Jenny. Each one was amazing, with a sense of professionalism in their quality.

"These are incredible."

"Yeah, yeah. She's, like, super hot, I know." (Reader) absentmindedly responded while counting her earnings.

"I meant the pictures, dick."

(Reader) then did something unexpectedly, she stopped counting, and it looked like a little blush bloomed ever so faintly, genuinely surprised by the compliment. "Oh. Uh, thanks."

Axle noticed the way her back went rigid and the way she averted her eyes. It was.. kinda cute. His brain short circuited. Did I just think she's cute?

~ 2 weeks later ~

Axle's door knocked insistently, rousing him from his slumber. No one ever visited his apartment, not even his parents, so Axle was suspicious of who it could be. "I'm coming!"

He unlocked the door to find X, standing their with a shit eating grin on her face. "I never want to hear you say that again."

(Reader) brushed past the blushing mess, barging into his dark and creepy apartment. "How - why - how??" Axle was almost on the verge of tears, zipping around his apartment faster than the Flash to try and clean up, scooping up arms full of dirty underpants and pizza boxes, and just throwing them into a closet.

"Because I'm actually good at my job, that's how." She smiled triumphantly, flopping onto his bed while taking off her bag. "You know, it was really easy making friends with Jenny. She's so sweet.. it makes me feel a little guilty." (Reader) faked a sniffle, pretending to be torn up. "Maybe we should end this.."

"What? No!" Axle panicked, immediately regretting acting like a fool, as "X" removed her hands from her face, revealing dry eyes and a sarcastic smirk.

"Maybe I'll stay.. if you give me a raise."

Axle looked shocked, like he had actually believed (Reader). It was cute. "Fine.. whatever." He groaned, still standing with his arms cross.

"Aren't you going to sit down? I've got some things to show ya." (Reader) patted the bed.

"No!" Axle replied way too quickly, embarrassed about sitting with a girl in his bed. "I mean.. I'm fine standing." He rubbed his neck, avoiding eye contact as usual.

"You know, I know I'm not Jenny levels of hot, but it hurts that you never even look at me." (Reader) deadpanned, pulling out a pad of paper from her backpack, along with another envelope of pictures. "In this little notebook I have Jenny's phone number, her mom's phone number, her dad's phone number, I have her dorm address, I have her family's home address, I have the contact info for her past three exes, and I also wrote down some stuff I learned from talking to her, like the kind of guy she likes, her favorite food, her allergies, a bunch of stuff."

Axle was shocked, and kind of startled, by how thorough (Reader) was. He enjoyed following Jenny between classes, making sure she got where she needed to go, and yeah he liked climbing up the side of the dormitory to try and watch her sleeping, but this was beyond anything he ever could have hoped for.

"Wow. Maybe you do deserve that raise." He opened the envelope, ignoring (Reader) as she bragged about how she got all that information, overwhelmed yet again by (Reader's) photography skills. "Have you ever thought about becoming a photographer?"

(Reader) paused her rambling, nervously shifting her gaze away. Axle was beginning to suspect that she didn't receive compliments all that often, which was a shame, because she certainly was talented. Axle felt his heart thump heavily again.

"I, uh, never thought about it.." (Reader) lied. "Why, you think I should?"

Why did she look so cute right now, nervously asking a creep who was paying her to stalk someone if he approved of her talents?

As he was about to answer, he found a selfie of Jenny and (Reader) together. "What's this?"

"Oh, sorry that wasn't supposed to be in there. Jenny saw my camera and asked if we could take a pic together." (Reader) made a move to grab it, but Axle held it up out of her reach. Strangely, he realized that he had never seen the two side by side, and for some reason in the picture of the two of them together Ms. X was way cuter.

"I'll keep this one too."

"Huh? Why?"

"I like it."

~ 1 month later ~

Axle stared into the bright blue light of his laptop, looking at (Reader's) face. It was difficult to find her, as she didn't have much of a social media presence, and Axle didn't know her name, but he finally found her. He kept telling himself that he was just curious in what kind of lunatic agreed to work as a professional stalker, and why the hell was she so good at it? But as he lost track of time staring at the terrible family photos her mother posted online, he started to question why he never seemed to notice her before.

It felt even worse, since she noticed him.

The pictures she took were all neatly packed in a drawer except for the selfie she took with Jenny. Axle kept arguing with himself, insisting that that was simply the best picture of Jenny by far. But he knew deep down it wasn't the truth.

He had started to lose sleep again, trying to dig up information on his partner on crime. Partners in crime. Axle smacked himself in the head, pulling his hoodie down over his mop of hair. Unfortunately, he was a college student, and had classes to attend.

Out in the corridor, he heard the most wonderful sound in the world. (Reader's) maniacal laughter. Even when out with normal people, (Reader) didn't mask who she was. She was walking with a group of popular students, all cracking up over something one of them had said, and Axle was jealous.

(Reader) looked so natural with that crowd, hanging out like she wasn't a loser like him, glowing so brightly that Axle didn't see Jenny right away. He knew (Reader) said that she had "infiltrated their ranks" in order to learn more about Jenny for him, but it was still incredible to see. Axle wondered if he would look just as natural by their side, after all, (Reader) had said that Axle was "handsome". He suddenly became self conscious, regretting not showering before he left his apartment. When was the last time he washed this coat? Why hadn't he bought a new one when (Reader) suggested it?

It was almost like he had to remind himself to look at Jenny. She didn't look as angelic as he remembered.

~ 2 months later ~

"What made you like Jenny?" (Reader) asked, scrolling on her phone while lounging on Axle's bed. Axle was watching (Reader) while pretending to look at the pictures she had taken. She was so exposed, lying there as though this was just a friend's place, not a man's bed. Axle tried not to feel excitement seeing (Reader) so comfortable in his presence.

"I'm, um, not sure." And that was the truth. Why did he like Jenny? The way she smiled? Was it simply how beautiful she was?

The more he grew to know (Reader) as a person, the more beautiful he found her to be. Jenny paled in comparison to (Reader).

It was too embarrassing to tell (Reader) the truth, that the woman he loved so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her 24/7, now simply didn't interest him. Not like (Reader) did. If I take a picture of her, would she hate me?

"You should take more selfies." Axle stated, out of the blue.

"Why?" (Reader) snorted.

"Because you're pretty.." He blushed softly, smiling at the picture of (Reader) he kept on his desk.

~ 4 months later ~

(Reader) smiled wide eyed, almost unable to contain her surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, he's just, disappeared." Jenny took a sip from her coffee, confused but not complaining. "I haven't noticed that creepy fuck following me around, like, at all lately."

Many thoughts passed through (Reader's) mind like rapid fire. Was everything okay with Axle? Did he lose interest in his beloved? And if he did, was she no longer going to get paid?!

(Reader) ran to Axle's apartment as soon as the coast was clear. Partially worried for his well being, mostly worried for her pay check.

She didn't bother knocking, instead throwing open the door like she owned the place. Axle stood in the middle of his room, confused, and pink in the face. He had a fresh hair cut, showing off his dark eyes, and he had a new outfit on, one that fit him better than his oversized stained hoodie. "(Reader)? What are you doing here?"

"I was just-" she stuttered, blushing violently. He was incredibly attractive, towering over her now that he was standing with better posture. "Wait, how did you know my name?!"

An ominous feeling crept over her, as she thought about how many times she laid in his bed, not knowing that he was falling out of love with his target. He smiled sweetly at (Reader), behind him was a new camera he had bought for her, as a gift. Axle had meant to propose a new deal with (Reader), requesting pictures of her instead, but she had caught him dressing up in the clothes he bought to impress her. He pulled her into his room.

(Reader) only noticed the pictures of her scattered across the floor as Axle locked the door.

#yandere #yandere stalker #yandere stalker x reader #fem reader #college aged reader #tw stalking #thanks for the ask!#writing requests #i hope you like it #not proofread #bad writing

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sykosugu · 18 days

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♤♢ melodies of passion ♧♡ | one

♤ summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless yakuza boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. a gojo satoru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, death, illegal activities, sexual content, gang related content, use of weapons

♧ aw: none this time around, only proofread once if that counts as a warning

♡ currently: ongoing - no update schedule

♤ taglist: open! just let me know

♢ wc: 3.1k

♧ carlile speaks: hi my loves! chapter one is here! I can't wait to hear your reactions. you might recognize someone in this story. send some love from me on her stories kickoff and in another life enjoy!

♡: you are here | next part

Gojo had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown.

He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.

Gojo had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.

“That big Yakuza guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.

“You know, the tall white haired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.

“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”

“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed.

He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.

It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Gojo decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.

Walking in, Gojo notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites.

“And may you grow to be proud

Dignified and true..”

Gojo can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.

“And do unto others

As you'd have done to you..”

He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.

“Be courageous and be brave

And in my heart you'll always stay

Forever young, forever young

Forever young, forever young”

Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab the dust rag behind you, and you're startled by Gojo’s presence.

“Jesus, Gojo. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,

“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Gojo counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with long black hair tucked neatly into a bun. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.

“No, no Gojo. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.

“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the dark haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Gojo, giving him a singular nod, to which Gojo nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”

“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll, “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.

Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you.

Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.

“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.

“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts his hands from you.

“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”

“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”

“Fat chance, Mr. Yakuza man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder. “What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.

“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”

“Goj–”

“Satoru. I’ve told you to call me Satoru.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.

“Gojo, that’s not going to happen.”

“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day, Birdie. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”

You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Gojo would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.

An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Gojo. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Why did Yakuza man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”

“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.

“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”

“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.

“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.

“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.

“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence.

“And my best friend is betting against me!”

“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”

“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.

“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you.

“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.

“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”

“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.

“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”

“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”

“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which that only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer..

You just roll your eyes.

Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.

A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?”

“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”

“Yeah, said his son's name was Suguru and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”

“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.

“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.

“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.

Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.

A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”

“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie,” and she’s out the door. Uh, okay?

Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Gojo.

“Gojo, i have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Suguru is there?”

“He’s Suguru,” Gojo motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”

Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Gojo and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.

“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.

“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.

“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.

“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Gojo’s hands keep up the melody.

“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;

“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”

“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.

“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up.

As you begin singing along with his playing, Gojo’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.

Once you finish, Gojo looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”

“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Sug? Cho?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him.

“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.

“And how did she sound?”

“Lovely, sir.” Suguru says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.

“I have to agree with Suguru,” Choso says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one.

“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Gojo turns his attention back to you.

“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.

“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.

“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”

“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And that it's time to wake up, Gojo.”

“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.

“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”

“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”

“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’

“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”

“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”

“None taken,” they say in unison again. Gojo snaps his fingers and the men leave.

“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Gojo softly grabs your arm.

“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways,” he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.

“B-bye, Gojo.”

“Satoru,”

“If you impress me, then maybe.”

♡ tags: @therealestpussyeater @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @semra4 @manyno @lostfracturess @starlostwish @h0nestly-though @celestie0 @username23345 @lulunx @sukunasdirtylaugh

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momotonescreaming · 2 months

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Thinking about a Corroded Coffin who doesn't get famous. They put out a couple of albums, sell some cassettes, play at college bars to drunk students and shitty metal bars in basements. Nothing really happens, they don't get famous, and Eddie is sort of devastated. But shit happens. He got to have fun and hang out with his friends.

It's not until they're all in their 50s when one of their songs go viral on TikTok. And suddenly they're cool, they're indie, they're underground with a cool retro sound. People are listening to their music.

Eddie finally gets a shot at fame. There's talks of management, and agents wanting to represent them. Money and really making something of this. Cashing in on it.

And Eddie realises he doesn't want it. He doesn't want things to change. He's happy where he is. He's older now, more mature. Has finally softened round the edges.

He has a husband whom he loves, four amazing children - a whole loving family. He has a good job that earns alright money, he has a average sized house in the suburbs.

Eddie's content.

He's old enough now to admit that a 20 something Eddie would have crashed and burned with fame. With sex and drugs and rock n roll. And that 50 something Eddie doesn't want it.

So he and the band turn down the offer.

#eddie munson #corroded coffin #momo.txt

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speedyhouseoptions · 8 months

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Sell Your House Without A Realtor

How to sell your house without a realtor in Los Angeles? At Speedy House Options, we offer a much simpler, faster, and convenient way to sell your house. For more please visit our website!

#cash offer for a house #Sell my house now #buy my house companies

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fandomxpreferences · 7 months

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Take Me Back To the Night We Met

Masterlist

Pairing: rafe Cameron x female!reader

TW:18+, angst, drug use and addiction, toxic and manipulative behavior

Summary: Loving rafe is a tailspin of fights, sex, and drugs until one day he disappears. When he shows back up, your world is flipped upside down.

Word count:2k

A/N: this is loosely based off euphoria with a dash of tvd and I’m not sorry

Two years. Two whole years spent in a downward spiral with Rafe as the two of you plummeted toward rock bottom wrapped up in each other and your partying ways. Seven hundred and fifty five days of white lines and reckless behavior as the you fed off each others careless attitudes and gambled with your lives.

You were just another girl at a party one fateful night when Rafe locked eyes with you. Something pulled you towards him, and before you knew it you were wiping your nose and trying not to let a tear fall as the white powder burned your airway.

It was all fun in the beginning, until it wasnt. Social use turned into casual use at home, and casual use turned into searching for a fix. Still, the pair of you kept going and said to hell with anyone that tried to stop you.

Now, you’re standing on Barry’s door step alone while your tired body begs for rest. Rafe was always your ‘dealer’, but three months ago he left without so much as a note. No one knows where he is, but to say its taken a toll is an understatement.

Regardless of your circumstances, you do love him with your entire being. He’s your best friend and everyday you wonder if he’s ever going to come back.

The screen door rattles as your knuckles rap against the rusting metal, and you wait a few seconds before repeating the motion.

“I know you’re in there, Barry!”

A minute goes by before you hear the click of the lock, and the man’s face comes into view. He runs his tongue over his teeth and tsks while cocking his head.

“I aint got nothin’.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you snort, genuinely amused.

“Sure, whatever you say. Give me my usual.”

Your hand extends to offer him cash, but he just glances between your face and the bills a few times before shaking his head.

“Nah, I ain’t got nothing for you. Not after what happened. Go home, Y/N.”

Irritation claws its way into your nerves as you shift back and forth, a scoff surfacing from deep in your chest.

“You didn’t say that last weekend. Stop with the bullshit, B.”

His eyes cast downward as he shakes his head slowly before he drags his gaze back up to meet yours.

“I can’t sell to you anymore, Y/N/N. I’m sorry.”

He moves to shut the door but your foot darts out at the last second.

“Why? Don’t give me that shit about you caring. You sell drugs to teenagers. You don’t have a fucking moral compass.”

Barrys face twists as your words sting him for a split second before his hardened features return, and he pushes you backwards so he can close the door.

“I dont have to tell you shit.”

Your eyes narrow as you start to put pieces of the puzzle together, and your suspicion only grows as Barry glances behind you every few seconds as if he’s nervous.

“Tell me or I swear to God I will make your life a living hell. I’m still a kook.” 

When your threat doesn’t seem to persuade him, you reach out and grab his hand while bending his pinky back. You press down until his knees buckle and leer at him waiting for an answer.

“Ah- fuck, fine! Its Rafe!”

Shock causes your grip to loosen just enough for Barry to break free and he darts to his feet before you can react. He glares harshly while rubbing his finger, and you try your hardest to breathe while oxygen evades you.

“What about him? He told you to cut me off?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you process, and Barry’s silence answers your question. Why would he do that? More importantly, when did Barry hear from him last?

“When?”

Your fingers massage your temples as a headache brews, and the man watches you carefully before deciding to answer.

“Couple days ago. He stopped by.”

The information is like an ice bucket over the head, and you freeze before swallowing thickly .

“Rafe is back?”

Three simple words that nearly bring you to your knees before anger and confusion take over. He’s been back and hasn’t sent so much as a “fuck you” text? Why did he take time to do this but not to let you know he’s home?

Barry’s features soften just barely as he realizes what he told you, and he sighs heavily before taking a seat on the top step.

“Been back a few days. He looks good; says he went to rehab and got his shit together. Sure seems like it.”

Your ears ring as the entire world comes to a screeching halt, and for the first time, Barry has some sympathy for the young woman standing in front of him. His eyes watch you for a moment before he swallows softly and turns to head back inside.

“I’m sorry.”

This snaps you out of your daze and your manicured hand reaches out to grab his arm before he can leave. Your nails dig into the flesh but he pays no mind as he stops and looks back at you expectantly.

“That’s it? Since when do you listen to rafe?” You ask, and the look on Barry’s face fills you in.

“He paid you.” You scoff, and you release your hold to run your hand through your hair.

“In what world do you not take the money from both of us and double cross him?”

Barry just stares for a moment, and you swear you see a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

“Since the incident right after he left. I was going to cut your ass off anyway.”

At that, he slams the door and leaves you alone with your thoughts on his porch. Thirty minutes later you’re banging on Rafe’s door like the FBI trying to bust it down.

“Open the fucking door, Rafe! I know you can hear me!”

Your screams are ignored as you start kicking at the barrier, now fully unhinged as rage takes over.

“You can’t just leave and get clean then come back and control me! Who are you to tell Barry he can’t sell to me?”

You let out a frustrated yell when he still doesn’t answer, and tears prick at your eyes as pain mixes with anger.

“This is your fault! I was fine before I met you. I was fine!”

Rafe winces when your foot rattles the door, and he leans with his forehead pressed against it while he listens to your verbal assault.

“You get me hooked on this shit and then get help while I drown? You drag me to the depths of hell and then leave me there?!”

Your voice is thick with tears now as your cries turn to desperation.

“What is wrong with you? Why don’t you care?”

Rafe finally unlocks the door and cracks it just enough that he can see you without you barging in.

“I’ve got it under control, just don’t take this from me.” You sniffle, and the look in Rafe’s eyes is enough to make you breakdown again.

“No you don’t. You overdosed y/n.”

Your mouth gapes as you try to come up with a response and you cock your head to the side.

“How do you know that?”

He gives you a “really?” look and you know it must have been Barry.

“You didn’t give a fuck when you left. I could have died and you wouldn’t have even known. If you’re so worried than why’d you leave me here to go on a bender after you vanish?”

There’s genuine sorrow swimming In his irises, and you rub at your nose as you sniffle.

“I had to get my shit together.”

He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you as you hiccup and cry but he remains glued to his place.

“You could have taken me. I would have gone.”

The sad smile he gives you causes your heart to drop, and he takes a second to memorize your face.

“I know, that’s why I didn’t tell you. We’re not good for each other. You would have been a distraction and I would have failed.”

Your knees nearly buckle when you realize what he’s saying, and that familiar burning seizes your throat as it constricts.

“Please don’t leave me.”

What’s left of Rafe’s heart shatters and his hand comes up to cup your face. You lean into the coolness of his signet ring while his thumb wipes away a tear, and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t have a choice, baby.”

Every emotion in your body explodes when he swiftly moves inside and shuts you out, and before you realize it you’re slamming your limbs into his door like a madman.

“Fuck you, Rafe! You ruined my life and just walked away from the carnage! You are nothing but a selfish, silver spoon, daddy’s money prick! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

With each word, your voice weakens and you sink lower until you’re a sobbing puddle on the ground. All of the fight drains from your body, and all that’s left is an empty shell. On the other side, rafe sits with his head between his hands as hot tears fall off his face with ease.

He winces as you release all your anger at his expense, but doesn’t move or say anything in response.

“I will never forgive you for this.”

There’s a sadness and finality in your tone that causes him to panic internally. He was so sure of himself until you showed up, and now hes disorientated again as your energy pulls him in. He reckons a part of him has always known that you’ll be here if he changes his mind, but now that safety net is being ripped out from under him.

Every cell in his body aches to be near you, but he forces himself to stay in place. Contrary to popular belief, Rafe is not heartless and he hates himself for everything hes done. He wishes he could go back to before he met you; before he set his world on fire and incinerated yours with it.

He’s fist fighting his own demons as they scream for him to just open the door and fall to his knees, but he resists every urge until he hears your car engine start up. He’s certain you’ve been gone a while but he’s been too terrified to even blink, let alone move.

If he does, he knows he’ll set out to find you and pull you into his arms. So he remains in place until his limbs are numb, hours long past as the clock ticks past two am.

After several phone calls and a hoarse voice from hours of driving around screaming, you finally pull into the driveway that’s hidden deep in the cut. An old “friend” of Rafe’s that stopped coming around after Rafe fought him for making a few too many comments about you.

He isn’t the safest option, but it’s the only bridge left that Rafe hasn’t burned. In his attempt to keep you safe, he’s driven you straight into the heart of danger. This guy isn’t just a low life dealer, he’s the king pin. He’s the suppliers supplier, and truthfully even coming here is incredibly stupid.

Still, your feet carry your forward until you’re knocking on his door and fidgeting. It takes a second but you hear a click of a gun before the door cracks open, and you give your best version of a smile.

It doesn’t do much to mask your sorrow thanks to your swollen eyes and splotchy cheeks, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Well well well, it it isn’t the kook princess herself. You shouldn’t be here, darling.”

The grin he gives resembles the Cheshire cat and you ignore the way your stomach drops.

“You’re my last resort.”

It’s a piece of information you shouldnt divulge, but your desperation outweighs any logic.

His beady eyes rake over your figure before he opens the door wider and nods his head.

“Come on in then, sweets.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #outer banks angst

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starlightdreaming · 29 days

Text

Lucifer x Fem!Reader!

Content warning: ANGST TO FLUFF! :3 REALISTIC themes of REALITY (FROM MY PERSPECTIVE) this is a vent fic but I added my delusions of fluff for comfort, theres slight starvation of oneself (eating disorders right?) (this fic been in the back of my head all week)

(this MADE ME CRY WHILE WRITING I KID YOU NOT)

Synopsis: dealing with reality isn’t easy for anyone, upon walking home one day, you found a mirror, hoping you could sell the mirror for some cash, you discovered something money can’t buy… happiness.

(im craving for fluff)

making a one shot for my delusions

(the song that supported my delusions)

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭*Dancing within the mirror* ੈ��‧₊˚

Your life wasn’t very pleasing to live, hell, life wasn’t pleasing to live at all, all the stress and endurance was so tiring, going to school, day in, day out was the least of your worries after you graduated.

Every kid has always said, “I can’t wait to grow up and do my own things!” at least once. once.

Now that you are an adult, nothing was as it seemed when you were younger. Yeah, you can do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it but it came with a price.. and that price was money.

Without money, you couldn’t do anything you dreamed of doing, without money, you couldn’t afford the things you even wanted- and to get anything you wanted, you had to get a ‘job.’ it’s the balance of life some say, but to you? it was control, it wasn’t about what you want or what you get, it’s all about having you work for the… them.

those people. the 1% some would call them.

Your mind deteriorated more and more from just not living anymore, just surviving.. you work, get the money, pay your taxes, pay your bills: your car, your electricity, your water, food, housing, insurance- everything.

You sat on the edge of your bed in your cold dark room, the moonlight twinkling in, it’s luminous rays escaping through the curtains at the window, you laid your head down crying and stressed, you can’t continue to survive like this, you just wanted to live.

You watch old shows and movies for comfort, wishing life would never change and forever stay the same, you wanted the world to stop revolving so you can just breathe. You watch cartoons and such, cause it seems they are living much happier than you ever will. Your mind always drifted off to just one day, you can lay in the grass and listen to the soft winds, the trees and grass rustling, dancing together as one with the wind.

You drew characters of your own, characters from your favorite shows and wrote everything your mind would drift off to, to cope with the bleak life that you had.

Sometimes, you wish reality could just.. shift, like if you wanted to live in your comfort characters universe? you could just poof! and then be there, talking for however long you wanted.

You sighed as you turned off your device, going to bed, too tired to do anything due to fatigue from nine hours of labor, you tucked yourself in, playing soft music to help you sleep with some sort of comfort, you closed your eyes to await another lifeless day of nothingness.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

Another exhausting day at work, you walk home, your car broke down for the nth time, knowing how corrupt reality is, it was intentional by the people who you got it from. Another bill to be paid, just to get your car fixed, just to work more, pay more, just to feed them.

You barely made it through the monthly payments, saving enough to pay them all off but not enough to feed you. You silently walked in the grass, no sidewalks to be seen cause everyone used cars nowadays, never their feet and it made the people who are supposed to run the country (or states), neglect their ideals that they offered the people.

You sighed, exhausted, walking for a whole hour, you decided to rest. You worked nine hours that day, walking endlessly and now you’re here, walking home. You pulled a bottle of water you had with you from your pocket, taking a sip to refreshen yourself, it was less half than empty but it was enough for you to be hydrated for your next other hour you had to walk home. When you drive to work, it’s only eight minutes but walking? it was fifteen times longer.

You got up to your feet to walk again, stuffing the empty plastic bottle into your pocket to find a place to dispose it, not wanting to litter the earth than it already has been from neglectful people who could care less where their trash goes.

Walking past a dumpster, you neared your destination to home, you tried to put in the bottle but as you did, you saw something glimmering in your eyes, you took a second glance at what was shining in the dumpster, there, you see the sun reflecting off a mirror- but not just any mirror, a beautiful one. It looked old and antique but it was so mesmerizing to look at, it had unique designs, embedded with gold, at the top of the mirror, sat an apple, a white snake wrapped around it, it was in quite good condition, not even the glass was cracked, ‘who would throw such beauty away?’ you thought, you wanted to take it home but you hesitated, wouldn’t you look like a hobo if you were to jump in to get it?

You looked in all directions, seeing if anyone was watching, when the coast was clear, you jumped in to get it, trying your best to reach it, without falling in. After a few seconds to a minute or so, you managed to get out scot-free, holding the mirror with both hands, you looked at the distinctive details more closely, it really looked at shiny as gold, you couldn’t tell if it was, you were no genius to know, nor did you have the knowledge to know, all you knew it was dirty from the grime in the dump, it definitely needed a cleaning.

You held the heavy glass carefully, walking down your neighborhood to your home, you put it down gently next to your front door, trying to get your keys to unlock it, when you did, you happily tuck your keys into you pocket, picking up the mirror and walking inside.

The moment you got this mirror, you thought about how it could benefit you, ‘could maybe clean it and then put it on sale at an antique shop or mall?’ you thought, hoping to grab a bit of money to help you probably get something eat for once other than toast and cereal.

You put the mirror in your bathroom tub, getting towels and wipes to carefully remove the dirt from the lined details, sticking your nail covered by the wipe, to chalk the dirt out from deep corners, after a bit, you washed it off carefully with water, holding it gently as to not let it fall and shatter, you turned off the water, grabbing a towel to carefully dry it, not wanting to accidentally scratch the glass somehow.

You took the mirror to your room, holding it with both hands, you sat it down to the ground, making it lean against the wall, you stretched before you took off your work clothes, deciding you wanted to shower after today, I mean, after walking endlessly for two hours at work (not to mention the additional two hours, walking home), and dumpster diving? You definitely could use one. You began collecting comfy clothes to relax in, digging through your drawers, you got just a tee and some shorts and an extra pair of undergarments, you took your clothes, grabbed a towel and left to the bathroom, leaving the mirror alone in the dimly sunlit room.

While you cleaned yourself, unbeknownst to you, the mirror flickered in and out bright yellow auras, the little dust and dusk of yellow floated around the mirror like fireflies, it was glowing at that point, bright yellow, the gold designs that traced around the mirror began to glow as well, and it immediately went out as you entered your room, a towel on your head, you sighed as you jumped into bed, digging out your work clothes that you left on your bed to grab your phone, you tossed your clothes to the side as you laid back down, scrolling through what-not to distract yourself from the loathing pain of loneliness in your life.

From evening to dusk, you blinked lazily, tired of scrolling on social media for hours, you continued to do so until you stopped at a video, a video that was quite a little too relatable. You thought that - that’s when you know it’s time to put the phone down, it’s enough internet for the day, You plugged in your phone, placing it on the night stand.

You shifted under the covers, bringing your pillow to your chest to hold it, hugging it tightly as if it were to ever be your significant other, knowing full well that - that one day, will never come… but it doesn’t hurt to imagine it right?

You hugged the pillow tightly, nuzzling your face in it, looking at the mirror that faced your bed, you laid there silently, feeling the loneliness get to you again, the clock ticking in your room as you waited for sleep to consume you, you closed your eyes, resting your head in the pillow you held, before falling asleep. As you slept, the mirror began to glow again, the same golden aura surrounded it, little small dots of light floating around it again, the light began to glow more, the longer you slept, the small dots of light danced in the air, eventually making it to your bed, the small dots of light gently touched your skin, one even kissed your nose, it made your face scrunch as you scratched it, removing the tickling feeling in your sleep, you then turn the other direction of your bed, faced away from the mirror, the lights backed away from you, like curious little fireflies, they floated around you once again, raining golden dust onto your head as if it were sandman, raining sand onto your head, gifting you the night of pure lofty dreams.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

You groaned as the morning light from the sun entered the room, waking you up from your dreams, it wasn’t often when you dreamed, usually they’d be nightmares or just plain weird.

You sat up on your bed, rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep off them, you yawn as you shifted to slide off your bed, walking past the mirror to leave your room, with a quick glance while walking past it, it showed a different person in your reflection, you paused, you stepped back to look again, now puzzled, did you see that right? You look back at the mirror, seeing your reflection perfectly fine, you shook the thought off, thinking it was just you not being fully awake and your eyes were just messing with you, you left your room after that, not thinking anything further about it.

You brushed your teeth, brushed your hair, anything and everything needed to start the day, you grabbed your work clothes and your phone, glancing at the mirror again before taking a photo of it, later deciding to post it on the internet to see if anyone was willing to buy it. You left your house, locking the door, awaiting another repetitive day of your life… wasting away.

You had woke early for a reason, without your car (and the inability to afford an uber, nor risk spending any money), you had to walk to work, it was going to be a long exhausting day but that’s just life, the imbalance of it from what you could see at least.

After a long day of work, the painful exhaustion of walking home, you opened your door, dreadfully, today was worst than the last, you sighed as you went straight to your room, taking your work clothes off and jumping straight to bed, crying.

You curled up in your bed, grabbing your pillow to hold as comfort as you silently sobbed, the sun, slowly fading away from the room, dusking out that the day was nearly gone. You didn’t bother how hungry you felt, you just wanted to cry yourself to sleep, your co-workers were more aggressive today towards you, tripping you and telling you how you don’t seem to put more effort into you job as they do, it even got to the point where they’d report you to the manager, it was only worse when the manager actually believed them! You’d end up being scolded by your boss, not even he tried to listen to your side of the story, making this all the much worse to endure. You wanted to cry at work, you did during all of your lunch break, you spent the whole time crying silently in the restroom, forgetting to get at least something to eat during your time.

You just wished this whole nightmare could be over, you barely had time for your mental health, not to mention the time to do anything else to cope with the repetitiveness of reality either. You cried yourself to sleep that night, not the first of your many rests. It was however, noticed by the mirror you seemed to have forgotten about.

The mirror shimmered softly with light, the same as it did last night, unaware of it’s presence of magic, the light reached your bed, alluring you with comfort as you rested, dots of light danced around your exhausted body, giving you sweet dreams as it did last time, you smiled in your sleep, dreams overflowing in your subconscious as you slept, your body seemed more relaxed when the light tended and touched you, draining the soreness out your body, hoping you’d wake up feeling much better.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

More often than not, you’d wake up exhilarated and refreshed from the nights before, it bothered you at first but you adjusted to it rather quickly, seeing as you always felt bursted with energy, you could take on the day and go home like you just went through hell to just sleep and wake up feeling alright again. You still haven’t had gotten any responses on anything about the mirror in your room, no one willing to offer for it, it just sat in your room collecting dust, it had been like about a month or so by now, your depressed mind never really bothered with time anymore, seeing as it was pointless, nothing really changes in your life, you don’t even bother with holidays, seeing as there was no one to celebrate with.

After many times and days going through the same thing, you crashed onto the floor in your room, laying next to the mirror. You couldn’t bother getting up into bed this time, everything just felt so tolling, your co-workers were at it again, excusing themselves with how they had families to take care of and you didn’t, they hated how you got paid the same as they did, expecting you to be rich or something by now. You hugged yourself on the floor that night, crying once again, you were facing the direction of the mirror, ignoring it in your vast of self loathing.

You just wished and craved for affection from someone, anyone, just something, anything to stop the pain you felt inside your heart but that would never come, no one cared for you as you hoped that one day they would, you fell asleep on the floor that night, crying yourself to sleep once again, no different than all the other nights that shared the same.

An emitting aura glowed softly again from the mirror, amongst your sleep, brighter than all the times than the last, this time, it didn’t try to comfort you in your sleep, no, this time, it was trying to wake you, wanting you see what it held within itself, the dots of light kissed your face, their bright auras bringing you to wake, you opened your eyes, curious from what the light source was, you sat up from the floor rubbing your eye, “what the..” you say as you blink awake now, you see the mirror glowing with a golden aura, you were bewildered from such a thing being able to happen.

You looked into the mirror before backing away, your reflection making you gasp in shock, you slowly leaned into the mirrors view, looking at your reflection again, it was so different than what you actually looked like, you looked more… demonic? it was creepy, it made your skin crawl, the light that was doting on you, floated around you, catching your attention. You raised your hand out, the little light landing in your hand, you looked and admired its radiance before it flew up and towards the mirror, going straight into it, “wha…” you said rather quietly im confusion and curiosity, the mirror glass sending waves against itself like a water drop landing into water.

You hesitated, you weren’t sure what to do in this situation, when you first got this mirror- you didn’t expect it to be fucking magical!

The mirror calmly whispered a tune, alluring you, you looked at your reflection again, it going from your human self to something else.. You reached your hand out to the mirror, touching the glass but when you did, your hand phased through it, you pulled your hand back in surprise as you watched the mirror glass ripple from movement, you shifted closer to the mirror, the golden light being the only thing that lit up your room in the dead of night.

You put your hand through the glass again, feeling more calm about it, seeing as it was safe, you smiled in fascination, it wasn’t long before someone or something grabbed your hand on the other end, you tried to pull away but it held your writ tightly, you saw a hand hold onto you, covered in black and claws that looked sharp as knives, it pulled you through as your yelp in shock and fear, closing you eyes as you expected to endure some sort of pain coming your way but you didn’t feel any, you felt the warmth of someone’s chest, your hand in theirs, his other on your back, ensuring your safety through the glass.

“Greetings, little duckling.” The man coo’d, you look up to the stranger who caught your fall in confusion, your eyes widened when you realized it was your major comfort character currently, the devil himself: Lucifer. You pushed yourself away from embarrassment, trying to look at your surroundings, seeing as you were in a massive ball room, the tiles on the floor were shining gold as the stairs were cloaked with red, “where am I?” you panic, looking at your body, seeing as your color was different and your body was less humane, “what is happening?” you ask, startled, looking at Lucifer.

He walked closer to you, “hey, it’s okay, you’re safe here, I won’t hurt you,” he reassured as he reached his hand out, patiently waiting for you to take it, you gave yourself a moment to breathe, trying to process everything, you looked at him as he smiled comfortingly at you, waiting patiently for you to take his hand, before long, you took his hand, he leaned toward your hand kissing it gently, a surge of golden light looming from the kiss to around your body. You blinked in surprise and look at your body, clothes had been changed from your work attire to something more extravagant and elegant, you were suddenly wearing a ball gown, you picked up a piece of the fabric of the dress, looking closely at the details it withheld.

“Through that mirror of yours, i’ve been watching you,” he says as he stands up straight again, holding your hand in his, you looked at him, slightly uncomfortable from that statement, his eyes widened at realization as he turned away before scratching his neck, “I mean- I don’t mean in a weird way- like- I was- I just-“ he sighed in defeat, unable to explain his situation correctly, “It’s not what it seems,” he attempts again, looking at you with soft eyes, “it’s just- that mirror is a portal, it’s a portal that only one side could see from, I don’t even have control where it goes but-“ He trails off, “look,” he says, taking both your hands now as you stare at him, patiently waiting for him to fully give you his explanation, “It was something I made long ago,” he attempts again, “I left it on earth for centuries but I still had access to it, from one end I mean.” he pauses as he turns both of you toward the portal, his hand trailing across the glass, changing the location on the other end, you watched with your mouth a-gap, in awe from how surreal this all was.

“I watched many humans through this mirror, good and bad,” he says as he shows many past memories the mirror seemed to hold, “It’s the only thing I have that shows the good in humanity… sometimes.” he says as he cracks a side smile, hoping you aren’t weirded out too much by the whole ordeal.

Letting go of Lucifer’s hand, you lifted both hands to your chest, intertwining your hands together as you walked toward the portal mirror, “so you’re saying..” you spoke as you stared at the glass, “I have a magical mirror in my room?” You ask, turning to him, your dress swaying as you turned, “yeah,” he smiles in relief that you aren’t panicking as he was, “we could go with that.” he says as he walked to you again, “I watched all the nights you cried..” he began as he looked away from your gaze, “I saw how much pain you endured everyday, it was obvious in your eyes and…” he explains to you, his demeanor changing to nervousness as he avoided your gaze, “I tried to make your nights better as you slept, hoping you’d wake up, feeling like your days would be better.” he confesses with a awkward smile on his face as he showed you the golden light in his hands, resembling the same as the light you saw glowing around the mirror in your room.

“So you’re the reason behind why I always felt better in the morning?” You ask, expecting he would confirm your answer, “Yeah.” he admits, rubbing his neck again, you walk up to him, taking his hands in yours as you raised both your hands up together with a smile and a, “thank you.” Lucifer eyes sparkled as he felt a flutter in his stomach, he sort of expected you to panic or something but this was way better, he smiled at you softly, “I saw you crying earlier, worse than ever before,” he says emphatically, he placed of your gloved hands on his shoulder, the other one held with his, his hand was placed gently on your waist as he leaned towards you, “so I thought maybe this time,” he pauses, turning you to a different direction and dipping you gracefully, “I could make your dreams a reality.” he spoke with an ever graceful smile, doting on your beauty.

Your eyes widened in wonderment as he began to move on his own, “wait- I can’t dance-“ you try to exclaim but your feet moved on your own as well, “don’t worry my dove,” he says as he looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes again, “I got you covered on that, just enjoy it, like a dream.” he comforts you, his voice soft and alluring.

He snapped his fingers and you saw a set of ducks with bow ties and orchestrated instruments appearing with them, they sat between the open space of the stairs, “fond of ducks, i see?” you ask, giving him a sided glance with a smile, he rolls his eyes playfully before taking your hands into his again, “not as fond as I am with you tonight,” he says back, smirking playfully as he guides you towards the center of the ballroom, “you’re absolutely stunning tonight.”

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

(prolly too dramatic but it was making me go insane while writing this (fluff is my kryptonite))

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

A melody began to play in the background as you let Lucifer take the lead, looking at him in awe, entranced by his charms and his smile.

He spun with you around the ball room, your dress flowing behind every move you done, you looked at your dress in wonderment, you then looked back at Lucifer who was still giving you doe eyes. You had your mouth opened slightly, still processing that this was actually happening… and with Lucifer of all people.

Watching and feeling every shift both your bodies had made, you both move left and right in circles, you yelped softly in surprise when you began to spin, one of his hands still in yours, bringing you back to him to waltz across the massive golden ballroom, you looked at him again as he gave you a toothy grin, making you smile in pure delight from this dream.

It wasn’t long until golden light began to ignite under his feet, each step he took left a trail of golden luminescence, ducks soon flipped up from under ground as if they went under water to collect food to eat, they swam across the ballroom floor as you both stared into each others eyes, lost within the melody.

You looked down at your own feet in amazement, your own steps were leaving a trail of golden light, those golden trails soon grew into buds that blossomed into lotus flowers, the flowers slowly drifted across the floor, gracefully, like they floated above water. You were mesmerized in such beauty of magic, it wasn’t long until you felt a hand trace under your chin, bringing your gaze back to Lucifer, “eyes on me, my darling.” he says with a soft smile, bringing his hand back into yours.

You felt flustered from his gesture as he sprouted out his wings, all in their grace and beauty, you looked away again as you heard him chuckle a light laugh at your reaction, he closed his eyes as he soaked in the moment, spinning you around again before bringing you in, your attention came back to him as he opened his eyes to look at you, you began to feel light, you looked away for the third time, you saw yourself floating in the air with Lucifer, you looked back at him in a little worry but it quickly vanished away as his gaze comforted you, “I got you.” he says, knowing what was running through your mind.

The golden light still trailed after you both, the ducks and lotus flowers floating up with you both in unison, you were so dazed by how pleasant you felt, your eyes locking with Lucifers, you both leaned into each other, your heads touching, closing your eyes as you began to relax and enjoy the moment, everything feeling so perfect.

You both danced in the air in sync, your steps finally moving as your own, adjusted to the dance, he reeled you out, you spinning out before spinning back in, back into his arms, his wings feathers fluttered gently as you danced in circles, in and out, left and right.

You both leaned out, hands locked as you laughed lightly, making him smile even more that you are enjoying your time with him, he brought you in before spinning you once again, back to him again before dipping you gently, ensuring you won’t fall from his grasp, his eyes were in awe as you smiled, your smile is all he wanted to see after seeing you cry so many endless nights.

He drifted you both back down, the golden lit ducks and flowers following you both as you both twirled around, heading towards the mirror, a trail of ducks and flowers blooming from you both, when you reached the mirror, he dipped you again with one hand this time, his other hand caressing your hair, a soft golden glow luminously flowed in your hair before he gently cupped your face, “until next time, mon chérie.” Lucifer says with a smile and loving eyes, kissing your head lovingly before pushing you carefully into the mirror.

You sit up quickly waking up, the sun shining through your curtains into the bedroom, you looked at your hands, your skin color back to normal, your ball gown gone, ‘it was all a dream.’ you thought, only to frown, believing it was too good to be true, you looked at the mirror on the floor, leaning on the wall as it had always been, you looked at it curiously, you threw the covers to the side, shifting out of bed to walk to it, you picked it up, seeing that your reflection was completely normal, however, a golden lotus laid in your hair, confirming that maybe, it wasn’t a dream after all…

You heard a ‘ding’ on your phone, catching your attention, you put the mirror on your bed carefully, grabbing your phone to look at the notification.

- Hey, that’s a beautiful mirror! It looks super old! antique even! How about $1,500 for it?

You smiled at the notification, that was enough for you to pay most of your bills for this month, you left a response before putting your phone back on your nightstand, picking up the mirror and leaving the room.

- Sorry but I decided not to sell it, thank you for your time though. :]

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#lucifer morningstar #character x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #character x oc #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin lucifer #bestie i hope you cry like i did #lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x reader fluff #Spotify #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x reader #character x y/n

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wqnwoos · 11 months

Text

wonwoo had one job and it did not include falling for you.

literally, he had one job. working part-time at the campus café was his way of making some extra cash — for games and snacks and whatever. hoshi had suggested selling feet pictures, but wonwoo wasn’t quite sure he wanted to air out his dogs like that.

anyway. the point was that falling for you was not part of the plan! especially because he has the same, regular conversation with you every time you walk through those doors. (which is a lot. actually, he’s kind of concerned about your caffeine intake, because it does not seem healthy.)

but the first time he saw you — it was late november, and he’d just started at the café. you had sailed straight in from the cold, bundled up warm — bright eyed, hair in a gorgeous tangle, and laughter spilling from your lips as you joined a gaggle of girls in the corner.

it was only in the weeks after that that he realised you were a regular. the bunch of girls with you weren’t always there — sometimes they showed up, but mostly you came alone.

like now. when you walk in today, wonwoo notices a flower stuck in your hair. spring is blooming — and with that comes the acknowledgement that this crush has lasted months.

he doesn’t know what to do with that realisation, so he shakes it off, offering you his usual smile — determinedly ignoring joshua’s meaningful nudge to his ribs.

you greet him with your usual cheerful enthusiasm. “hii wonwoo! how’s your day going?”

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way his name sounds coming from your lips. “not bad,” he hums. “what about you?”

“it’s actually been really great so far,” you share excitedly. “you know the massive bit of grass in the courtyard? the daisies there are blooming. they’re so pretty.”

you’re prettier. the line comes to wonwoo instinctively, but he doesn’t say it. instead, he gestures to the tiny white flower in your hair with a smile. “yeah, i can see you liked them.”

your lips turn upwards then, slightly sheepish as you reach up to untuck the flower, resting it in your hand. “pretty, right? can i get my usual?”

i never really stood a chance, wonwoo thinks to himself as he taps in your order, against a smile like that.

you drop your usual one dollar in the tip jar once you’ve paid. but then you stop for a second, dithering before you move over to where joshua is making your drink.

before wonwoo knows it, you’re holding out the flower to him with a shy smile. “here,” you say, voice tentative.

his hands act on autopilot — which is great, because his brain is malfunctioning right now. he takes the daisy from you with flushed cheeks that he really hopes you can’t see; but he definitely can’t hide the growing smile on his face. “w— thank you,” he manages, finally, gazing at the dainty flower and then you with soft, delighted eyes.

“and — uh, maybe — ” you flounder for words, your cheeks heating as you push a folded piece of paper towards him, having fished it from your backpack. “maybe you could… text me?”

wonwoo has never beamed so fast in his life.

an / two shy little DORKS. they’re kinda cute tho <3 i hope you guys liked (let me know if you did !! i will literally love u forever)

#wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fic #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo comfort #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo svt

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navybrat817 · 11 months

Note

Your landlord is elusive. You've been calling him for weeks about the broken washing machine, your rent checks have gone uncashed, and you can't even leave a voicemail.

When he finally shows up, bloody and bruised, it seems there's more than the washer to tend to.

Oh, this is long overdue.

You Get What You Pay For

Pairing: God the Bounty Hunter x Female Reader Summary: Your landlord shows up expectedly after weeks of radio silence and prefers a different form of payment as you patch him up. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Injuries, b/lood, v/iolence, implied n/oncon (you have been warned), God the Bounty Hunter (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: For Roo and @the-slumberparty 's May challenge. Prompt in bold italics. Beta read by @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"I’m sorry, but the mailbox you are trying to reach is full."

With a sigh, you hung up the phone and took your laundry basket to the bathroom. Your landlord hadn’t answered a single call of yours in weeks, which was about how long you had gone without a working washing machine. And because you couldn’t leave a message and didn’t know how to fix it yourself, you had to resort to washing your clothes in the tub. You refused to go into town to use the laundromat or call someone to repair it. Not because you didn’t have the money to pay, but because you didn’t want anyone to see your face.

He wouldn’t know to look for me here though, would he?

You suddenly missed your old apartment as you turned the water on. It was warm and cozy, the opposite of the cold, quiet place you now occupied. You tried to brighten it up with flowers, but the house wasn’t a home. Maybe one day, years from now, you could go back to the city.

If it was ever deemed safe enough for you to return.

Your stomach sank as you pulled up your bank account to check the balance. It was much higher than it should have been. Not only was your landlord not answering his phone, but he hadn’t cashed a single one of your rent checks. The instructions were clear that he didn’t accept direct deposit or cash from tenants. Only checks made out to a rental property. Thankfully you opened a new account before you found the place, knowing better than to use your old account in case anyone checked it for paper trails.

Why isn’t he cashing my checks?

You shut the water off and got to work, doing your best not to let your mind race. Was your landlord ignoring you? Possibly. He was a bit of an enigma. A handsome man, but still an enigma. In fact, you had only seen him once and he told you to call him God when he introduced himself. The cold look in his blue eyes told you it wasn’t a joke as he unceremoniously put the keys in your hand.

“Welcome home.”

What if he found out what I did? Will he kick me out? Where will I go? What if someone found out I'm living here and went after him? If something happened to him because of me…

You had gone most of your life with keeping your head down and minding your own business, but it wasn't living. Opportunities slipped by because you either played it safe or didn't have the means to otherwise. So you got a little bold and maybe a little greedy. Why else had you stolen from a powerful man? He wasn’t a good man and you didn’t think he’d notice anything missing, but that was no excuse to rob him. You should’ve known he didn’t miss a thing.

And I was so careful until he caught me.

"I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch."

Looking back, you weren’t sure how you managed to get away. It was all a blur. He didn't call the cops. He wanted to take care of you himself. If he ever got his hands on you, he’d tear you apart before you begged for death. Because no one who crossed him lived to tell their tales. How far would he go to find you? What if he found God and made him an offer to sell you out?

Maybe it was time for you to move on to another place.

"First aid kit."

You spun around and caught yourself before you fell to the ground, your heart in your throat. In the doorway stood the very man you were trying to get ahold of, his short brown hair disheveled and sporting a black eye and blood on the corner of his mouth. Were you so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him enter the house? Or was he that quiet?

"Are you going to help me or stare at me?" he asked, clutching his ribs as he took a step inside. "And here I thought you were a hospitable tenant."

"Sorry," you whispered, tightening your robe. He hardly gave you any room as you got the kit out from under the sink. The bathroom wasn’t that small, so why was he practically on top of you? "Here, let me help."

You carefully guided him to the toilet, but he didn't seem to need your help. Even sitting down, his size and presence intimidated you. Was that blood on his torn shirt? And his jeans, too?

What the hell happened to him? Or does that blood belong to someone else?

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he answered dryly. "You should see the other guy."

You weren't going to push for him to say more.

He didn’t flinch as you cleaned the blood from his face. He didn’t take his eyes off you either as you carefully looked him over. You tried to ignore his stare, but the silence grew more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

"Why are your clothes in the bathtub?" he asked, surprising you by yanking on the tie to your robe. It, thankfully, didn’t open. "You know there's a washer for that."

"I'm aware that there's a washer, but it isn't working and you didn't answer your phone," you said, keeping your tone light instead of accusatory.

"Is that right? And you couldn't use the laundromat in town until you could get in touch with me?" he asked, an amused look in his eyes as you went rigid. Why did that gaze make you more uncomfortable than his previous dull stare? "I’ll look at it later. Sure it won’t take me long to fix it."

“I appreciate that," you said, wondering when you should mention the uncashed rent checks. "But let's get you taken care of first."

He grunted before he removed his shirt, tossing the garment in the tub with your clothes. "What’s one more, right?" he asked, sitting back and gesturing to his muscular torso littered with bruises and minor cuts. "Don’t think they’re too bad, but I’d prefer if you check."

"You do know I’m not a nurse, right?" you asked, even as you moved to look him over. There was a particularly dark bruise by his ribs, which was likely why he held them as he walked in. "just saying in case you wanted a professional opinion or if anything is really sore."

He hummed as your fingertips brushed along his skin. "Told you I'm peachy. And I'm sure you would’ve made a fine nurse if you really wanted to be one."

Your heart thudded in your chest at his use of the past tense, like you would never get the chance. Maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you. It was a simple statement. It didn’t mean a thing.

"School can be pretty expensive though," he went on with a tilt of his head. "Is that what kept you back? Finances?"

Your stomach turned at the question. He didn't blink and you hoped your expression didn't give your nerves away. Did he know? If he did, why dance around it?

"May I ask what happened?" you questioned as he furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry. It's none of my-"

"I killed some people."

Tension spiked in the small room, a nervous laugh escaping as you tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Dry humor occasionally went over your head. "You what? Y-You killed some people?"

"Yeah, I did. I kill a lot of people. Usually for money." he said unemotionally, clamping a hand around your wrist when you tried to pull away. "Not why I did it this time."

The ring on his third finger dug into your skin as you fought down the bile rising to your throat. He wasn't just an enigma. He was a killer. A man who spoke so casually about murder. Were you about to become his next victim? "Are you going to kill me?"

"Now why would I do that?" he asked as he stood, keeping a firm grip on you as he backed you against the sink, your legs almost giving out. "After everything I did for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You think I didn't do my research on you? I can spot when someone's on the run, sweetheart. Though I didn't peg you for a thief," he answered as your eyes brimmed with tears. The sight didn't seem to inspire any sympathy considering he smiled. "You stole money from a powerful man. Dangerous, too. And you really thought hiding out here would save you?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, finding it harder to breathe as he stepped closer. It wasn't an empty apology. You made a stupid mistake. "I tried to give it back, but he-"

"I don't care why you did it," he dismissed, toying with the tie of your robe again. "He was an asshole who robbed people blind for years. I did the world a favor by killing him."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "He's really gone?" you asked, shaking a bit when he yanked the robe open. "What are you doing?"

"I killed him and his bodyguards before they could get to you. They got a few lucky hits in. Stroked their egos a bit before I took them out," he went on like he hadn't heard you, grazing his fingertips along your skin. "I took a big risk going after him for you. Very high profile."

"I didn't ask you to do that," you tried to reason.

"And since no one paid me and you kind of owe me for saving you," he continued, his fingers stopping just above your mound. "I decided I'm going to keep you."

You weren't sure if it was a form of shock you were experiencing because your mind screamed at you to fight, but you couldn't move. You could hardly find the word to speak. "Keep me?"

"Yeah. Keep you. Gets lonely sometimes," he shrugged, gazing unashamedly at your exposed chest. "Plus I wanted to fuck you the moment you showed up here. Now I can whenever I want."

Your eyes widened as he lifted his gaze to yours, a flash of darkness in his eyes when you tried, and failed, to shove him back. "You can't just keep me!" you blurted out, trying not to panic. You couldn't stay trapped there with him. Was he delusional in thinking you'd agree to that?

"Did you not hear what I said? I saved your life. You should be thanking me," he said, frowning when you glanced toward the door. Maybe you could break free. "What, you think you can run away? Get help? No one is going to save you from me."

He was right. You had no one to go to. What if you did and he went after them? Who would help you when you couldn't help yourself?

"Please, let me go," you begged, your tears spilling over as he spun you to face the mirror. You hissed as your hips dug into the counter, but your discomfort didn't matter to him. "You can have the money. All of it. I won't tell anyone. I swear!"

"I don't want your money," he said, kicking your feet apart. You felt his arousal as he pressed against you and it was enough to make you whimper. "Why do you think I haven't cashed your checks?"

"God, please," you said, shutting your eyes when he wrapped his hand around your throat. You didn't want to see his dark desire in the reflection.

"You'll say that again before I'm done with you and you'll watch as I take my first payment," he promised, your heart dropping as your new reality began to sink in. "Now be good and welcome me home."

Oh, what have I done? Love and thanks for reading!

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy and roo's sleepover #god the bounty hunter x reader #god the bounty hunter x female reader #god the bounty hunter x you #god the bounty hunter x y/n #god the bounty hunter #god the bounty hunter fanfiction #god the bounty hunter imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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