#also not to be creepy but i saw some people in the tags of another axolotl drawing wishing for more different color axolotl representation

[buckyalpine]

I’m going to redo this story. Here is a version I wrote that I feel is okay but I have another version in mind so I’ll write that tooo. I didn’t want to throw this away completely so maybe at least 1 person will like this 😭 @paulasocean another version is coming bb ❤️

-

"Okay, I can't for the life of me remember what happened during this mission" Nat grumbled while sitting in the conference room, catching up on paper work after Fury had demanded all mission reports be handed in by the end of the week.

"Honestly, neither can I" Steve shook his head, rubbing his temples, the past few months all melting into a blur. Everyone had been running back to back missions, prioritizing actually saving people over filling out reports. "I only filled out half of it and before I could finish, someone put it away"

"Please tell me it's somewhere in this building, I can't spend the rest of the day writing about how many time Steve jumped off a roof with zero protection" Bucky groaned, most of his mission reports consisting of all the recklessness his bestfriend did.

"Go check the records room, someone probably filed it there" Tony suggested while Bucky nodded, heading down to the very bottom of the compound where there were rooms upon rooms filled with documents on every criminal and terrorist organization to exist as well as individual cases. Steve and Nat followed, the both of them wandering through the shelves where the most recent reports were, quickly locating the latest one.

"He's this big billionaire with the most advanced technology in the world and but he's keeping records in the basement like a creepy grandpa" Nat huffed, scanning the shelves.

"You'd think he'd have these all digitized by now, given how much he loves technology" Steve snorted while Bucky remained silent, preoccupied with a different row of shelves that caught his eye. His heart hammered a little harder than usual as he looked at the five full floor to ceiling shelves that were solely for Hydra. He was sure at least two shelves would be for his atrocities alone.

"Buck, c'mon" Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, already seeing where his bestfriends mind spiraled, "Nat found what she needed, let's get out of here punk"

"Just-give me a second" Bucky murmured, opening one of the drawers and flipping through the papers, swallowing thickly at some of the agents he'd recognized, ones that had tortured him to no end.

That's when another face caught his eye.

His blood ran cold, flipping through the pages faster, hoping there was some sort of mistake.

It couldn't be.

It was your face, over and over again but under a different name.

Svetlana Petrovitch

"St-Steve?"

"What is it Buck" Steve frowned, seeing the color drain from Bucky's face, taking the file from his hands, his own eyes growing wide.

"Please tell me that isn't her"

"That's y/n" Steve murmured, not understanding where there was a file on you at all, let alone why it was associated with Hydra. Bucky grabbed the filed back before looking at others, his anxiety only getting worse. "Svetlana?"

"These aren't files on those who were taken or held captive. This whole shelf is just for agents who have worked for Hydra throughout the years. They're all Hydra agents"

Bucky needed it to be a mistake, a misprint, a file placed in the wrong section, you were his whole world, you would've told him if you were associated with hydra. His mouth wen dry, clutching onto the papers as he wordlessly made his way back up to find you.

You had been gone all morning, insisting you were just going to grab coffee but now he had his suspicions. You usually always asked him to tag along everywhere but every so often, about every two weeks, you would disappear on your own for hours on end.

He'd also hear you speaking to someone on the phone in hushed whispers but he'd never once questioned it but based on what he'd just seen, he had no idea what to believe.

Who were you.

He tossed the file onto the table as soon as he saw you in the room, the tick in his jaw worrying you. You got up, making your way over to brush his cheek, freezing when he stepped away from your touch as if it would burn him. Everyone left the room, sensing this was a private moment between you both.

"Bucky, is everything okay-

"Where were you"

"I-

"Tell me where you were this morning"

Your heart sank to your stomach, the guilt plastered on your face causing his emotional turmoil to worsen.

"I-I told you I went for coffee" Your shaky voice lacked truth, only confirming his suspicious further.

"Did you work for Hydra?"

"Bucky-

"Y/n, it's a yes or no question, were you a hydra agent or not"

"I-

The fact that you hadn't said no, the fact that you looked guilty, unable to look at him directly in the face was enough to send Bucky over the edge.

"H-how could you?!”

"James, you don't understand!-

"No. No" Bucky shook his head, tears welling in his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots. "Don't. Just don't"

"Baby, please just listen to me-

"Is y/n your name? Hm?" His eyes were red from unshed tears, a part of him still desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. That his girl, the woman he trusted with his entire life, was really who he thought she was, "Or is it Svetlana. You were part of them. You probably still are, is that why you came here? Did you pretend to love me all this time just to get me back to them? Is this what all of our relationship was to you? Find a way to get the Winter Soldier back?"

"Bucky stop!" You cried out, your voice cracking, wiping away at your wet cheeks. You couldn't get a word in as he backed away from you, shaking his head, feeling disgust and confusion at the same time. His heart yearned for you but he wouldn't be able to over come this. "Please-

"There's nothing to listen to. How-how can I ever trust you again" His throat felt like it was being squeezed shut all over again, just like the days Hydra strapped a collar on him to hold him in place every time he was wiped. "I don't even know who you are anymore. I-I love you but I can't-

"Bucky don't do this, just let me explain-

"YOU CAN'T! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU TO EXPLAIN!" He snapped, making you flinch back. "You-you could've told me! How am I supposed to trust you?! I've told you my darkest memories and-and fuck, you would've already known, right? This was all a game to you, you would've already known everything I'd ever done. Were you part of that too? Huh? Did you also have a say in all the shit they did to me when I was under their control?"

"NO!" You shook your head, covering your ears, unable to take the words he was saying to you, never in a million years would you ever have done such a thing to the man you loved with your entire being. "Jamie, I would never, I love you, just sit down with me baby, please-

"I'm sorry. We're done. For good. I can't even look at you. You know I love you, fuck, I-do you have any way how much I love you" Bucky's voice dropped to a whisper, moving to softly cup your face in his hands, brushing away at the tears that continued to spill from your lashes. He traced his thumbs along your soft cheeks on last time, his soul feeling like it was being ripped from his body as he dropped his arms back to his sides. "But I can't do this"

He stormed out of the room without looking back leaving you torn, broken and sobbing. You ran past the others who were still worriedly waiting outside and right to your room, locking it, instructing FRIDAY to forbid anyone else from entering.

It didn't take long for you to pack all your things. You didn't have much.

You never did.

You left behind all of Bucky's Henleys that you'd stolen along with all the sweet gifts he'd bought you on your dresser; you figured he wouldn't want to see you anyway.

You had left the compound by that night.

-

Steve signed at the sight of his best friend spending another night destroying himself at the gym, dark red stains covering the leather of the nearly torn punching bag.

"No one knew?" Bucky's voice was hoarse from nights of crying and getting by on coffee and taking out his frustrations out on the gym. He'd stayed in his room for days on end, not speaking to anyone, his head and heart aching. His knuckles were split from how hard he'd been punching the bag, only to be held back by Steve who couldn't stand to see Bucky like this anymore.

"No. None of us knew anything. I spoke to Tony, those files were sent to us directly through SHIELD. When Tony ran his background checks, everything came up clear. There's gotta be more to this Buck. Why don’t you-"

"I loved her" Bucky shook his head, still feeling betrayed over all the things he didn't know. "But I can't"

Weeks went by and Bucky grew more reckless. Not having the love of his life by his side coupled by the fact that there were so many unanswered questions pushed him further and further to the edge. He hated that he still dreamt about you every night, tossing and turning in his cold bed, without you there to keep him safe and warm. You were on his mind every single day and every single part of him wanted to know where you'd gone, how you were doing, guilt starting to eat a him.

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, jumping at you the second he thought you had strong ties with Hydra, that you were an agent yourself. He'd never even let you get a word in, breaking things off without a second guess.

To make things worse, he'd gone as far as accusing you of also being part of all the pain he'd been put through.

No one knew where you'd gone.

Except Tony.

-

"Just tell me where she is" Bucky ran his hands through his already messy hair, pacing up and down Tony's office while the billionaire sighed. "Please"

"I can't. She asked me not to and I can't break that Barnes. Plus you broke up with her, it's not like she left cause she wanted to"

The guilt that was already eating at him only worsened as he sat down in defeat, angrily wiping his face.

"Is there anything you can tell me? Something? Anything, I'll take anything at this point, I fucked up so badly"

"The most I can do is let you know if she comes back or if she wants to talk to you"

Bucky didn't press the issue more, taking it upon himself to scour the records room again to see if there was anything else on you but he came up short. There were no other files on a person with the last name Petrovitch. He never actually looked through your file properly, feeling too much anxiety from the first time he'd seen it. When he bothered to read it again, there was hardly any information, only having a few fuzzy pictures of you at the base with some other agents as well as how long you'd been there for.

There was one place he'd get his answers from.

SHIELD.

-

"Who is y/n"

"Sargent"

"TELL ME" Bucky's voice nearly shattered the glass, causing Fury to flinch while the others took a step back. After Tony didn't reveal your location, Bucky went straight to the head office, his brooding glare alone getting him instant access to the top floor. The team accompanied him for moral support but also to keep things under control just in case, everyone standing in the directors office on edge. "You kept this from me, from everyone here, I need to know, what does she have to do with Hydra"

Fury sighed, pulling out a thick file from a second safe, dropping it onto the table, shifting through papers before pulling out one of a picture from when you were young. Bucky recognized the twinkling eyes, his heart breaking all over again for the young little girl in the picture, lost and innocent.

How the hell did he think you'd been an agent.

"Y/n, y/l/n. Originally named Svetlana Petrovich by Hydra. Her birth mother had been used as an experiment to procreate more super soldiers in case the serum couldn't be replicated. The serum didn't take so she was rendered useless. Her mother was never seen again. Her supposed father was one of the many soldiers who had been given a different version of what Sargent Barnes has"

Bucky was frozen in place as Fury spoke, feeling absolute agony over the words he's said to you. Your broken face and pleading voice played over and over again, making him nauseous.

"Hydra kept the child in hopes of using training her into a weapon. She was cared for by a woman who was appointed to be her handler. She raised the child differently, without anyone else knowing. Don't ask me how she did it, we don't even have a name"

Everyone continued to listen in stunned silence while he spoke.

"Agent y/l/n wanted to escape but remained at the base to ensure no one hurt the woman who had taken care of her. She didn't go on any missions but she was trained to be one of the strongest soldiers they had, hence the images of her at the base with other Hydra operatives. She remained there until the woman's death and escaped the very same night. We recruited her a few years later"

"How do you know all this and why didn't anyone know" Steve stepped in while Bucky remained silent, trying desperately not to break down. Not only had you been born into the worst situation but you only remained there to protect the one person who was like a mother to you after you lost your own.

"I have my ways, Captain. She didn't want anyone to know. She wasn't proud of the fact that she'd been brought up in such a place. She left it all behind but wanted to use her skills for good. There's a reason she one of your top agents. She didn't learn those skills from just anywhere"

Bucky wordlessly walked out of the room, unable to sit and hear another word. His heart broke for the baby who'd been forced into Hydra's hands without a fighting chance. Yes, you had been raised by someone who wanted to love and care for you but you'd been tortured and trained more than anyone else and after you finally escaped with a life for yourself, he'd accused you of betraying him. He hated that he had come to Fury for answers when he could've just let you speak instead, letting his own anger cloud his judgement. He still didn't know where you'd disappeared to or who you'd be on the phone with but Bucky had to speak to you, no matter what it took.

-

"I'm only giving you her location because she sounds miserable and I'm assuming it's because she misses you. If she pulls a gun my head because of this, its on you" Tony mumbled, scribbling something onto a sheet of paper and stuffing it into Bucky's hand. "You better grovel your ass off"

Bucky couldn't care less about traffic laws as he swerved through the streets to get to you, his motorbike revving through the city till he reached a dingy looking apartment building. He frowned, double checking the address before parking his bike and walking to the lobby. Bucky made his way to the concierge, the man seemingly recognizing him immediately.

"Sargent, I'm assuming you're the boy she's been moping over" The man at the front desk gave him a pointed look, giving him a key and directing him to go to the top floor before he could even say anything. Bucky's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, nodding with a thank you before dashing off to get to you.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find the peeling and dusty hall way empty with just one door right in the middle. His heart hammered against his chest as he shakily raised his hand to knock. He could hear shuffling on the other side, wiping his palm against his jeans when he hard the lock click open.

"Baby, I'm so sorry I- oh-mam, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong address-“

An elderly woman opened the door, her eyes twinkling as she looked him up and down, taking his metal hand in hers and pulling him inside. Bucky stood in confused silence as he entered the large apartment, which was a stark contrast to the mess it appeared to be on the outside. The interior was sleek; the apartment large enough to take up the entire floor. It made sense why the whole hall only had one door. A large living area was off to the right, decorated with a mix of abstract and modern art; a lot of the pieces reminding him of things that you would paint yourself-

"You must be James" she hummed, taking him into the living room while Bucky's jaw was still hanging, utterly perplexed over where he was. "Let me get your girl"

"My girl?"

Before he could get another word in, the woman disappeared, coming back moments later, dragging you with her. You stood stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes while she huffed, giving you a gentle push towards him.

"Now you both sit and talk" And with that, she left.

"Y/n" Bucky want to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him, his heart breaking over the way you looked at him like a stranger. The eyes that used to hold so much love, so much spark were now hollow and empty and full of hurt.

"No. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself Bucky" You kept your voice as steady as you possibly could, your throat already starting to grow painfully tight. You weren't one to cry easily, especially after years of training to repress your emotions but Bucky was your weakness.

"I know. I was wrong, I should've listened to you, it was so wrong of me, I-It's just-I'm not excusing myself, I promise, it's just-I didn't know what to think and I'd always hear you on the phone, sometimes you'd disappear for hours and you wouldn't tell me where, I-I'm sorry I thought the worst when I saw that file. It doesn't change the fact that I didn't let you get a word in. I'm so sorry angel"

You sighed, letting your heart soften. You knew Bucky came with his own baggage of trust issues and while you'd wanted to tell him about the phone calls and visits, you worried about if any of it would make him uncomfortable.

"It was my mother" You whispered, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers, "That's who I'd call and come to see. Well my adoptive mother. Handler. She was like a mother to me"

"But-I thought-" Bucky blinked in confusion, Fury had made it clear the woman had passed before you escaped, "She's alive?"

"I helped her escape with me. We faked her death so they wouldn't come searching for her. She had been captured there to work as a nurse. We changed our names. I didn’t want her living there anymore after I left. This is her place; Tony was nice enough to renovate a penthouse for me without asking questions. Before I joined the team, we'd lay low in cheap rentals. Now I know she's always safe. The concierge is a trained agent"

Bucky felt an inkling of hope when he stepped towards you and you didn't step back. He nervously brought his hand to hold yours, letting out the breath he was holding when you didn't pull away.

"Please forgive me baby, I-I should've given you a chance to explain, I'm so sorry" Bucky squeezed your hand, his thumb coming to brush away the tear that trailed down your cheek.

"You hurt me" You whispered, sniffling. "I'm not upset that you got mad or felt hurt and confused. But you thought I was an agent Bucky. You-you thought I'd do something to hurt you" The last word barely made it out as the first sob escaped. You were able to take Bucky's hurt and confused but no the fact that he'd doubt your love for him, "Did you think I-I didn't love you?"

"No! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry baby. For everything. For everything you had to go through, for everything I said. I shouldn't have acted like that. I should have trusted you, I know you love me, no one's ever loved me the way you do doll"

“How could you not trust me. Why didn’t you at least let me explain it to you Bucky”

“I know baby, m'so sorry" Seeing your walls crumble made Bucky's heart ache, his body moving on its own to wrap you in a protective hug. He hated to be the cause of your tears, understanding why you'd been nervous to tell him about your past. Of course you came with your own traumas from Hydra and even though he endured similar things, it still wasn't easy to open up about. "Will you please come back home? You don't have to stay in our room, you don't even have to forgive me, just- please baby"

You melted into his embrace having missed his warmth, his scent, his safe arms.

"I should have told you. I-I was scared-

"Shhh, I understand. You don't have to explain it, m'sorry i didn't know and lashed out. Please come home baby" He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head while keeping you pressed to his body. You nodded against his chest, too lost in hugging him back to notice your mother's watery smile or happy sniffles.

"Take me home, Bucky"

-

Of course after you'd come home, Bucky continued to earn your forgiveness, making sure you understood he'd never doubted your feelings for him. He starts to join you as well when you go to visit your mother, blushing when she calls him handsome. Butterflies erupt in his tummy when she give him her blessing while he fidgets with a ring he'd bought, keeping it safely in a velvet box for the right moment.

During vulnerable nights there are times where he needs you to hold him and nights where you need him just as much. He loves that he can comfort and hold you too, letting you pour your heart out when you feel like it or humming soft lullabies till you fall asleep when you don't feel like talking. One thing that is for sure, he'd never push you away from him again. There no one else on this earth that he loves and trusts more than you.

Once again, this version was meant to be trashed so. pls.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #marvel angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x freader #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky x freader #bucky x you #bucky x f reader #bucky x angst #bucky x female yn #bucky x fluff #bucky x f!reader

[wannabeschyulersister]

rooster’s girl

The Hard Deck was packed for a random Wednesday night. The jukebox was blasting. People were everyone having a great time. You spent the most of your night by the pool table with the rest of the crew. It had been a tough week thus far. Normally, you’d all get together at the end of the week.

The exception was made since you all were super stressed.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You told Phoenix. You’d been watching her play against Payback for a bit now. It was widely entertaining.

“Wait, I’ll come with.” She started to set her pool stick down but you stopped her. Phoenix always tagged along for bathroom trips. Most of the time she didn’t even have to go.

“You’re about to kick Payback’s ass. I’m fine on my own. Plus, you don’t want him to skip out on the money he’s going to owe you…..again.”

Phoenix glared at him from across the pool table, “You’re right. Hurry back.”

You gave her a supportive pat on the shoulder before you left to the bathroom. Little did you know, someone else from the group watched you make your way to the back.

Thankfully, the bathrooms weren’t packed. You did your business, washed your hands and checked your appearance quickly in the mirror before leaving.

As you re-entered the rowdy bar, you felt someone grab your hand. It was a random guy at a table near the back. He looked really tipsy.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s a girl like you doing alone at a place like this?”

You snatched your hand away from him, “I’m not alone.”

“I don’t see a ring on your pretty finger. Why don’t you come have a seat with me.” He reached and grabbed you by the arm this time. His hands were rough and gave you the absolute creeps.

You knew that you could beat the shit out of this guy easily. He was intoxicated. It wouldn’t be that hard. One push and he’d been sprawled out on the floor.

Hangman tapped Rooster on the back near the pool tables. “Looks like your girl is in a little trouble.”

Rooster immediately looked at the direction Hangman was pointing at. He also knew exactly who he was referring to.

He saw you with that creepy guy’s hand still on you. Rooster rushed over, blood pumping hot in his veins. He rudely bumped into a couple of people but he’d go and apologize for it later.

When he reached you, he grabbed your arm that wasn’t currently being pulled by that asshole.

You knew who was touching you without even looking. The mild panic that you were feeling all went away just by Rooster’s appearance.

“Get you hand off of her before I rip your fucking arm out of the socket.” Rooster warned the guy. He was absolutely pissed.

The drunk idiot took his hand off of you, “I was just trying to have some fun.”

“Not with my girl, asshole. Get the hell out of here before I embarrass you in front of all of these people by kicking your pathetic ass out.” Rooster threatened him. The guy was smart and got up without saying another word.

“Are you alright?” Rooster asked you. He no longer looked angry. Now, he was concerned about how you were.

You nodded a little, “I’m okay. Are you?”

Rooster scoffed a little playfully, “You were just harassed by a scumbag and you want to know if I’m okay. You’re always thinking about everyone else.”

“I wasn’t just the one that threatened to rip a guy’s arm out of his socket.”

“I just wanted him to get his hands off of-“

“Your girl?”

Rooster hoped that you wouldn’t mention that part. It just slipped out. You honestly never heard him say it before. You didn’t hate it. You actually really liked those two words coming out of his mouth.

The normally confident Bradley Bradshaw was now a blushing mess. “I uh- I’m sorry if that was weird or made you uncomfortable. It just slipped out and-“

You grabbed his sunglasses that were hanging on the front of his shirt and put them on, “No need to be embarrassed, Bradshaw. I liked it.”

Rooster fought the smile that wanted to present itself on his face, “You did?”

“Yeah, I did. Being Bradley Bradshaw’s girl sounds kind of nice. Does it come with any perks?” You took a step closer to him. He reacted by placing a hand on your waist.

“I make a mean stack of pancakes. You’d always have a karaoke partner. Also,” he leaned close, his lips brushed your ear a little causing shivers to run down your spine, “I don’t mind being the little spoon sometimes.”

That made you giggle. Never did you imagine that Rooster would be the little spoon in a cuddling situation. That was something that you’d have to see to believe.

“Well, that’s a good thing because I don’t mind being the big spoon sometimes.”

Rooster smirked and you caught him staring at your lips. “Should we get out of here?”

You nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bar. You both didn’t miss the cheers from your friends back at the pool table.

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick

[ray4hotchner]

Fate's Gentle Nudge

Chapter 1: Cupcakes and Conversations

Next chapter >>

❀ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: aaron hotchner x reader

❀ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Aaron's encounter with Jack's new teacher, sparks an unexpected connection that leaves him intrigued and curious about what the future may hold.

❀ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.8k

❀ 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Hey, loves. This one will be a multi-chapter story, featuring lots of fluff and pining. Let's see how the story unfolds. Let me know what you think. Comment if you want to be tagged in the next part🤍 (finished)

❀ 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕔: @iyv-ray24

┌─❀*̥˚──❀*̥˚─┐

On Ao3

└──❀*̥˚──❀*̥˚┘

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Aaron stood in front of the mirror, meticulously tying his necktie. It was a Tuesday evening, and he had come home early because he had promised his son that he would attend Parent's Night at his school. A couple of weeks ago, Jack had mentioned during dinner that they now had a new class teacher. His previous teacher had gone on maternity leave due to pregnancy, causing the school to face challenges in finding a suitable replacement. As a result, Jack's class had to deal with a series of substitute teachers.

Jack would enthusiastically share school stories with Aaron every night before bed. He appeared much happier now that he had a permanent class teacher. He would gush over Miss Y/L/N and genuinely seemed to like her. This made Aaron even more curious to meet her in person.

He left his room and joined Jess, Jack's aunt, and Jack in the kitchen as they cleaned up after dinner.

"Okay, guys, I'm off. Have fun, but don't stay up too late, Jack," he told them.

"Bye, Dad, and tell Ms. Y/L/N I miss her."

Hotch chuckled and ruffled his son's hair. "You saw her today, buddy."

"I know, and?" Jack asked, not understanding what his dad meant. Could he not miss her even if he had seen her today?

"I'll tell her, buddy," he chuckled again, then left them to make his way to Jack's school.

Upon entering the school corridors, he could already hear the murmur of other parents chatting somewhere in the distance. As he walked into the classroom, he immediately spotted many familiar faces. His attention was drawn to the name tags on the tables, each adorned with distinct decorations and the names of different children. He took a seat where Jack's name tag was laid on the table. On Jack's name tag, there was a drawing of Spiderman alongside something resembling Aaron's FBI badge. A smile formed on his lips as he looked at it. Soon, a few people approached him to strike up conversations — parents he had met before at soccer training and playdates with the kids.

He heard a laughter echoing through the corridor and turned his gaze towards the door, where someone entered carrying a large tray of cupcakes. The person placed the tray on a table beside empty cups and a coffee machine. Accompanying her was another woman who assisted in carrying some cookies. Aaron's eyes settled on the unfamiliar woman – this must be Miss Y/L/N. She wore a brown plaid dress paired with a long-sleeved black shirt underneath, a perfect choice for the breezy late summer-early autumn evening outside.

He didn't want to appear creepy, but he found it difficult to divert his gaze from her. She had an infectious smile and a pleasant laugh that he wished to hear again. Although he couldn't comprehend their conversation, he observed her attentiveness and nods as she conversed with the other woman. A few minutes later, the other women and the rest of the parents also took their seats.

Ms. Y/L/N stood at the front of the class and began introducing herself.

"Hello and welcome, everyone. I'm Y/N Y/L/N, and I'll be the class teacher for the remainder of the year. The past couple of weeks have been challenging for the students with all the changes in substitute teachers and Mrs. Cullin's leaving. However, I believe that we'll soon settle into a nice routine," she introduced herself, offering a warm smile.

"I've been teaching the kids for almost 10 days now, and I'm sure you've all been curious about their new teacher. So, I thought a gathering like this would be the perfect opportunity to introduce myself," she continued.

Aaron found it hard to divert his gaze, and he felt his heart rate quicken each time their eyes met while she scanned the room, addressing every parent. She described some enjoyable activities she had done with the kids during the initial days to help them feel more comfortable with her. She mentioned that the name tags had been designed by the children themselves, and they had all collectively written a letter to Mrs. Cullin, congratulating her on her new baby.

She went on to explain her upcoming plans for the class and mentioned a field trip scheduled in a couple months.

"That's probably enough talking from me," she joked, "but before I wrap up, I'll be passing around a list where you can provide your contact numbers, emails, or the best way to reach you in case of an emergency. Additionally, we'd appreciate a second emergency contact as well. Please help yourselves to some coffee and the baked goods," she concluded, pointing towards the table with cupcakes.

As the parents hurried to get coffee, the list circulated around the room. Aaron duly filled out the list, designating Jess as an emergency contact. Wanting to ensure thorough communication options, he also included his email and Penelope's BAU number, as a backup in case he was unreachable due to work.

Passing the list to the next person, he finally stood up from the remarkably uncomfortable small children's chair and decided to fetch some coffee. With a few individuals waiting their turn at the machine, he opted to take a quick look around instead. The classroom, as usual, was nicely decorated, but Aaron detected some changes from the last time he had seen it at the beginning of the school year.

The windowsills of the classroom were adorned with an array of plants, featuring larger pots as well as numerous small, colorful pots housing countless succulents. Aaron moved closer to examine them and noticed that each pot was uniquely decorated and labeled with names. It struck him that each child probably had their own designated pot. He scanned the collection, attempting to locate the one belonging to Jack.

"Care for one?" a voice chimed beside him. Turning, he found a smiling Ms. Y/L/N holding a cupcake and a coffee, her gaze fixed on Aaron.

"Oh, sure, thank you," Aaron replied, accepting the cupcake and coffee she offered.

"Do you like them?" she inquired, referring to the succulents. "We painted the pots and planted them with the kids. Would you like to see Jack's?" she asked, and he merely nodded, unsure if he could manage to form coherent words with her radiant smile directed at him.

They moved a few windowsills down, positioning themselves farther back in the classroom. She picked up a small pot that was painted in red and blue, adorned with black spiderwebs. It was clear that Jack had opted for a Spiderman-inspired design, a choice that resonated with his current fascination for the comic character.

"This looks really good; he did a great job painting it," Aaron commented, studying the pot. "Do you mind if I take a picture of it?"

"No, of course not. Go ahead," she responded enthusiastically. Aaron set his coffee down on a nearby table and quickly snapped a picture. He figured Penelope would definitely want to see it if he ended up telling her about this encounter later.

"I think the kids definitely loved doing this activity," he remarked, observing the pot before gently returning it to its original spot.

"They did," she replied, amusement in her voice. "Though I didn't anticipate just how messy it would get beforehand," she chuckled. "But it was worth it. Now all of them have a plant they need to take care of. I believe it teaches them responsibility and gives them a chance to learn about taking care of a living thing, don't you think?"

He was genuinely impressed by her reasoning and found himself agreeing. "That sounds like a really harmless and easy way to teach them these things. I definitely agree," he said, offering her a smile in return.

He took a bite of the cupcake and let out a satisfied hum, relishing the sweetness that his craving had demanded after a day filled with paperwork and irksome meetings.

"This tastes amazing," he commented, moving in for a second bite.

"Thank you," Ms. Y/L/N responded with a chuckle.

"Huh? You baked them?" he inquired, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, I did. I'm glad you're enjoying them," she confirmed, her smile evident in her response.

For a brief moment, he was so captivated by her beauty that he couldn't manage a response, his gaze locked onto her. Thankfully, a parent's call pulled her away before the situation grew uncomfortable.

"It was nice talking to you, Mr. Hotchner," she said before walking over to the parent who had beckoned her.

Thirty minutes later, parents started saying their goodbyes one by one. Aaron purposely hung back, an unfamiliar urge guiding him. Normally, he wouldn't enjoy such gatherings and would quickly leave. On top of that, he was tired from a long day and too little sleep. Needing to deliver Jack's message gave him an excuse to stay a bit longer. It definitely wasn't a wish to talk to her again, absolutely not.

As the last parent exited the classroom, Aaron made his way over to Ms. Y/L/N, who was in the process of collecting empty cups. Gently taking some of them from her hands, he offered, "Let me help you with that."

"Oh, Mr. Hotchner, you really don't have to," she replied.

"No, I insist," he said, smiling at her. He was almost certain he noticed a faint blush grace her cheeks. Together, they gathered the remaining trash from the tables.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Hotchner. That was really nice of you. Now I see where Jack gets his kindness," she remarked.

"Don't mention it," he replied with a smile.

Glancing over at the coffee table, she noticed a couple of uneaten cookies and two cupcakes.

"Then accept his cupcake as a thank you," she suggested, handing him one while keeping the other for herself.

He was struck by the mix of emotions he was feeling – the warmth of attraction and the charm of cuteness all rolled into one.

She settled onto her teacher's desk, and Aaron perched on the table in front of her, both enjoying their cupcakes. The conversation flowed into discussions about the class and Jack's progress.

"Jack is a really bright kid," she began. "He loves reading and drawing, and he has quite a few friends. Ms. Collins provided me with background on each student before she left, and she mentioned that Jack and Paul had some issues last year. But I don't see any remnants of that now. They're actually really good friends these days."

"I'm glad to hear that," Aaron responded.

"And, I hope I'm not overstepping, but she also shared some information about Jack's mom."

"Ah, I understand."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss. But I want you to know, Mr. Hotchner, that I take precautions to ensure my students are content and don't feel upset in this classroom."

He was genuinely curious. "How do you manage that?"

"For instance, I don't celebrate Mother's or Father's Day in my classroom. Many teachers have their students create cards or paint pictures, but that can be distressing for children who've lost a parent. We have another little girl in the class who lost her father a few years ago, and I wouldn't want any of them to feel upset. Instead, once a year, we celebrate a made-up day where the kids choose someone to craft a card and a present for. It could be a parent, a friend, a grandparent, or even a pet. One child even wrote a letter to their cat once," she shared, giggling.

There was a certain charm in the way she spoke about her approach, a blend of understanding and creativity that struck Aaron.

Aaron found himself captivated by her explanation, admiring the thoughtfulness she put into her teaching approach.

"That's a really thoughtful way to handle it," he said, genuinely impressed. "It must make a big difference for those kids."

"I believe it does," she replied with a warm smile. "Every child's experience is unique, and it's important to create an environment where they all feel included."

"You have a great way of looking at things," he remarked, unable to hide his admiration.

"Thank you, Mr. Hotchner. It's just something I've learned over the years."

Their easy conversation continued, moving from topic to topic. As they chatted, she suddenly smiled and said, "You know, Jack mentioned that you work for the FBI."

Aaron chuckled, slightly surprised by Jack's chatter. "He talks a lot, doesn't he?"

"He's quite enthusiastic about sharing," she replied with a grin. "So, you're in the FBI? That must be fascinating work."

He nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. "It has its moments. I'm in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We try to understand and predict criminal behavior based on psychological profiles. It can be challenging, but it's also incredibly rewarding."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and Aaron found himself enjoying her company more than he had expected.

They continued talking and laughing, Aaron realizing he hadn't laughed this much in a long time. Time seemed to fly by as they shared stories and exchanged jokes, thoroughly enjoying each other's company.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when the janitor poked his head into the room and said, "Miss, I need to lock the doors soon."

Startled, she hopped off the desk. "Of course, of course, sorry. We'll be out of here in a minute."

They exchanged a brief, regretful glance before both standing up, the lighthearted atmosphere not quite dissipating even as their conversation came to an end.

Before they walked towards the school's exit, she carefully packed the remaining cookies into a ziplock bag. Carrying her bag, they made their way out of the classroom and towards the school door.

"Sorry for taking up so much of your time, Mr. Hotchner. I didn't realize how late it had gotten," she said apologetically.

"Don't apologize. I had a really enjoyable evening," he assured her with a warm smile.

She suddenly extends her hand and he eagerly takes it into his own. The touch of her warm, soft hand sent a tingle up his arm and down his back, a subtle yet undeniable sign of the connection that had formed between them.

"Again, it was really nice meeting you, Mr. Hotchner, and thank you for your help," she said, shaking his hand.

"The pleasure was mine," he replied, his voice sincere.

As they stood there, she held out the ziplock bag of cookies. He almost protested, but she insisted, telling him to give them to Jack. She playfully noted, "I couldn't help but notice that you have a sweet tooth, just like Jack."

He chuckled, a light flush of embarrassment touching his cheeks. "You're observant," he admitted.

She laughed gently, her eyes dancing. "Well, it's a trait that comes in handy as a teacher."

He nodded, his smile lingering. "Thank you again. I'll make sure Jack gets these."

"Oh, and before you go," he continued, "Jack wanted me to pass along a message."

She raised an eyebrow, curious.

"He said he misses you," Aaron revealed.

Her chuckle was warm and genuine. "Well, I miss him too. Could you do me a favor and wish him a good night from me?"

"Absolutely," Aaron agreed.

With that, they exchanged a final nod and a parting smile, each carrying a small memory of a delightful evening spent together.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

As Aaron arrived home, he discovered Jess and Jack asleep on the couch, a movie playing in the background. He knelt down and gently caressed Jack's cheek.

"You're back. We must've fallen asleep," Jess said, her voice soft as she stirred.

"I'll carry him to bed," Aaron replied, his tone equally gentle. He effortlessly lifted Jack into his arms and carries him to his room.

As Aaron settled Jack into bed, the boy stirred slightly.

"Dad?" Jack's voice came out in a sleepy murmur.

"Yes, buddy?"

"Did you meet her?" Jack inquired, still half-asleep.

"I did. She seems like a great teacher. She told me to wish you a good night."

"She did?" Jack's voice held a small smile, his eyes closed.

"Yes, she did. But now go back to sleep, okay? Goodnight, Jack," Aaron said, planting a gentle kiss on his head.

"Night, Dad," came the soft response, the day coming to a peaceful end as father and son exchanged their goodnights.

After Jess left and Jack was back in bed, Aaron began to move around the house, switching off lights and ensuring windows and doors were securely closed. In the kitchen, his eyes fell upon the bag of cookies he had set on the counter earlier. Pouring himself a glass of milk, he retrieved a cookie and settled into contemplation.

As he nibbled on the cookie, his thoughts lingered on the evening spent with her. The warmth of their conversation, the genuine laughter they shared, and the way he felt around her — all these thoughts danced through his mind. Despite his attempts to remain composed, he couldn't completely ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach, evidence of the impact she had on him.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch x reader #criminal minds imagine #hotch #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #thomas gibson #aaronhotchnerissuchadilfandiwoulddieforhim #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fanfiction

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Wilbur Soot’s Guide to Side Hustles | camboy!Simpbur x camgirl!reader | Part One

My first ever series on this blog yayayayay! Also first time writing Simpbur. No fucking clue when the next chapter will be up though. Could be next week. Could be a month. Life contains many mysteries.

Summary: Wilbur has had a long line of obsessions in his time. In a desperate attempt to get the attention he craves, he starts making content online. When he encounters you at a party full of other creators...well, he's never been good at staying away from things that draw him in, and you may very well be his undoing.

Warnings/Tags: sub!Simpbur, dom!reader. Unrealistic sex/depictions of sex work (although I did try), smut, pegging, general simpbur creepiness, discussions of virignity/consent, low self-esteem and insecurity problems, unhealthy attitudes toward sex. Reader is AFAB and a woman

Word Count: 11.3k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

“Hey, creep.” 

Wilbur blinked and looked up from his math textbook. Standing right in front of him was a girl from his English course, a girl he’d had a crush on for years. They had never actually spoken. Instead, he’d done what he did best—watched from afar and stayed out of it. For a moment, despite her harshness, he just stared, basking in her attention. 

She laughed, and her friends laughed from a few desks away as they looked on. “Do you know how to speak?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” he said. He could feel his cheeks burning. “What’s, um…what’s up?”

“‘What’s up’?” The girl laughed again. “I’ve seen you hovering near my locker, you fucking pervert.”

Wilbur froze. “I-I wasn’t—“

“Oh, you weren’t?” She leaned against a nearby desk. “Who’s been leaving me notes, then?”

Wilbur wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole. He had been leaving notes. And admittedly, yes, some of them were creepier than others. The notes ranged from Good luck on midterms :) to You looked so hot in class today. And despite Wilbur’s general lack of self-awareness, he recognized how this looked. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll stop.”

“If you don’t, I’m reporting you,” she replied. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Got it.” Wilbur had never felt more embarrassed. The other students began to whisper. He could feel a million eyes on him—well, what felt like a million, at least. “I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at his desk as his eyes stung.

“Good.” The girl stood there for another few moments. “It’s a waste,” she said. “You could almost be cute, if you weren’t such a freak.”

Present Day

You could almost be cute if you weren’t such a freak.

Wilbur remembered that, because of course he did. It was the closest he ever got to someone returning his affections. Yes, he knew it was pathetic, but that shred of affirmation went a long way.

He started bettering himself. It started with better hygiene, not wearing clothes multiple days in a row, properly washing his hair. His parents had been bothering him to do that for ages, anyway. He dressed better, tried to socialize. That last point didn’t go too well. He got bullied to the point that he ended up switching schools and had to deal with the fact that at least a bit of it was warranted.

He never saw that crush of his ever again. He developed new ones, new fixations. He didn’t leave notes, though, or stalk anyone or do anything to arouse suspicion. He promised himself that he could be normal, that he would be normal.

Well, perhaps he’d intentionally switched classes a few times to “keep an eye on” some of the people he became fixated on. But was that such a big deal?

And then university came. Loans, what felt like a million dollars in debt. One night, the result of a drunken decision, he filmed himself getting off. On an even more questionable drunken decision, he posted it online to some internet forum he had only heard of in passing. The second he remembered it the next day (after recovering physically a bit from his previous drinking binge), he was absolutely mortified.  And yet, to his immense surprise, people liked it. It wasn’t any sort of viral sensation, of course, but he had a decent number of comments when he woke up in the morning. At first, he was put off by the vulgarity of it, but then, he realized that this was how he could get the high that he’d always craved—attention. 

He started working on it. Filming videos, uploading photos. Pretty soon, he had an OnlyFans account going. His content was mostly solo stuff, webcam livestreams and private chats with his more dedicated followers. To his surprise, he started making decent money. It was nice to have something to help relieve some of the university debt. Plus, the validation was nice, even if it was only in praise of his body.

Besides, he had long given up the idea of anybody loving him for anything other than that.

Online, his persona was more submissive. It was easier for him, not having to fake confidence that he didn’t have. Instead, he could let himself moan as loud as he wanted, let the microphone pick up every small gasp and whine as he got himself off either with his hands or one of the million toys that he’d purchased since starting the job. The needier he looked, the better.

Then, he found the confidence to do his first collaboration. The benefits of moving to a larger area for university were plenty, but one of the biggest benefits turned out to be the fact that he was far from the only sex worker in the city. He lost his virginity to a girl on a livestream, although she didn’t know it was his first time. At least, she pretended not to know. Wilbur got the feeling that she could tell. Either way, it had made good content. In fact, it had been so profitable that she had invited him to a small gathering of some other creators—sex workers of all types.

And that was how he ended up holding a can of cheap beer in the corner of a party. It was at someone’s apartment, someone he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. The music was far too loud, the conversation too overwhelming. For a moment, Wilbur was sixteen again, sitting at his desk and wanting to disappear.

At least, until you walked in. You, dressed to the nines for a simple house party. For a moment, he locked eyes with you, and he nearly forgot how to breathe. He looked away first, too intimidated, too afraid. However, he watched out of the corner of his eye as you walked into the kitchen to greet the host of the party and grab a drink. 

When you reentered the living room, Wilbur’s eyes immediately went back to you. Suddenly, it was as if nobody else was there. He could feel it creeping up on him again, the beginning of an obsession.

Be normal, he reminded himself. Don’t be a creep.

He watched as you greeted almost everyone at the party, flawlessly interacting with the guests. Clearly, you knew your way around. Eventually, you made your way over to Wilbur. He took a sip of his beer to try and appear casual, only to choke slightly.

“Shit, didn’t mean to startle you,” you said, chuckling. “You alright?” You leaned against the wall right beside him, so close that he could smell your shampoo. Or maybe it was perfume. He couldn’t tell, and honestly didn’t care to discern the difference. 

“Fine,” Wilbur replied. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. You caught me mid-sip.”

“My bad, stranger.” You offered your hand. “I’m Y/N. And you’re Wilbur, right? Allison told me about you.”

Wilbur hesitantly shook your hand before pulling his own hand away suspiciously quick. “Right, yeah,” Wilbur replied. “We did a livestream earlier.”

“I heard. Apparently it was a hit.” You briefly glanced at your phone before tucking it back in your pocket. “And you’re new on the scene…?”

“Yeah, pretty new.” Wilbur shrugged, trying to play it cool and relax his nerves. “That was my first non-solo livestream.” And my first time having sex ever his mind reminded him. Because people only want you if they can profit. 

He shook the thought away as you spoke again. “Damn. Pretty good for your first time, then.” You grinned at him. “Most people don’t get this kind of attention so quickly.”

“It’s…definitely been a surprise to me,” Wilbur agreed. A tense silence passed between you and Wilbur. “So…you also do the whole…camgirl thing?” He thought that he’d heard of you in passing, but before, he’d had no reason to look you up.

“Yeah! Two years and going. Still doing mostly solo stuff, but trying to branch out a little,” you replied. “It can be difficult to know who to trust in this industry, who genuinely has your best interests at heart and who is taking advantage.”

“I bet.” Wilbur set his beer aside. It wasn’t that good, anyway. “Do you like it?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes yes. Other times no. Depends on how creepy people are that day.” 

Wilbur laughed, nodding in agreement. He watched you as you took a sip of your own drink, some sort of cocktail. “But you make good money?” he asked. His frenzied mind attempted to come up with some flirtatious lines, but nothing else left his mouth. Considering how cringy all the lines were, it was for the better.

“Decent money,” you replied. “And you?”

“Decent money.”

“Cool.” Wilbur felt slightly uneasy as you eyed him up and down. “Hand me your phone,” you said after a moment.

Wilbur blinked. “Why?” he asked. Despite his questioning, he unlocked his phone and handed it over without complaint.

“So I can give you my number,” you replied. You began entering your contact information. “Not to be too forward, but the main reason I came to this party was just to network. Like I said, I’m branching out, and it seems that you’re doing the same.” You handed his phone back. “Maybe we could collab.”

Wilbur felt his heart hammering in his chest. The room felt like it was spinning, and considering he’d only had half a beer, he definitely couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “Oh. Um…you sure?”

You smirked. “You seem harmless enough, Wil. Besides, we can talk a bit beforehand, get to know each other a little. I’d rather not fuck someone without knowing a bit about them.”

“Fair.” Wilbur very shakily tucked his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He noticed you starting to leave. “We’ll be in touch, then?” he asked.

You winked. “You can count on it.” Only a moment later, you disappeared into the crowd.

Wilbur left the party immediately after. He saw no point in staying if he couldn’t talk with you more. Even after that sliver of conversation, everyone else at the party seemed even more dull than before. He got into the back of a taxi, trying (and failing) to make his brain go quiet.

All he could think about was your skin under the multicolored lights at the party, the sound of your laugh, the brightness of your smile. He checked his phone, and all he could think about was the fact that your hands had touched it less than fifteen minutes prior. And maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right he would get to touch you for real.

He imagined your hands on him, fingers curled around his cock. Nobody had ever given him a handjob before, but he (for better or worse) had always had a vivid imagination. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window of the cab as he imagined it, your fingers on him. He tried to imagine every detail, the texture of your fingertips, the tone of voice you would use as you praised him.

By the time the taxi dropped him off outside his apartment building, he was achingly hard. He made it to his studio apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and immediately sat on his bed. He opened his laptop and searched for your name.

Sure enough, he found your OnlyFans, as well as the few free teaser clips that you’d uploaded elsewhere. There you were, a vibrator on your clit in one clip, your fingers teasing your own nipples as you moaned for the camera.

He slammed the laptop shut. No, he told himself. No more obsessions. If you manage to make this work, all she’ll be to you is a colleague, a coworker. 

Don’t be a creep.

He got out of bed and made it to the bathroom, where he stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and turned on the shower. A cold shower would do the trick, he figured. Admittedly, he’d never actually tried the method, but it was the best he could think of. He could scrub away all thoughts of you, get rid of his hard-on, and call it a night.

He shivered as the cold water hit him. It felt fucking awful, cold water on his skin when all he wanted was warmth, but he toughed it out, waiting for his “problem” to resolve itself.

But it was no use. All he could think about was the sound of you moaning in that video, gorgeous lips parted, legs spread. He couldn’t help but wish he could hear you moan for real, not the fake sort of moans that are exaggerated for the camera. 

He gave up after a while and got out, wrapping his lower body in a towel as he did a walk of shame back to his bed. He sat on the towel and reopened his laptop.

He found your OnlyFans page, and without thinking, he subscribed. He wasn’t sure if you could see his username if he used his official account, so he made another guest account. You were worth the inconvenience. He started to scroll. He saw a clip of you and Allison, you grinding against her thigh. Another clip showed you edging yourself into oblivion, cheeks flushed, eyes watering. That was the clip he finally settled on. 

He edged himself along with the video, stopping whenever you stopped. If your hand stopped moving, so would his. In his mind, it felt almost like mutual masturbation, like you were really there doing this with him. He imagined you watching him, murmuring praise to him. 

It wasn’t often that he got off without toys, not because he couldn’t, but because he was almost always filming his orgasms, and thus toys were usually involved. Despite not having any added vibration or stimulation, he came harder simply from touching himself while watching your videos than he had in months. 

He laid there afterward, his own cum on his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. You’re absolutely hopeless, he told himself.

And yet, he couldn’t stop now. Not when you were so close. 

It took Wilbur three days to work up the courage to text you, and from then on, conversation flowed naturally. At first, it was small talk about the industry—which people did you know, how many parties had you been to, what sort of content were you interested in making, and on and on and on. Wilbur was honest, admitting his lack of experience in the world of sex work, although he didn’t admit his lack of sexual experience in general. If he did, he might scare you off or make you hesitant, and he didn’t want that.

Conversation then turned to more personal matters. Still surface level, yes, but less detached than talks of industry and networking. He learned that you were a camgirl on the side, using the funds to add to the money you made from waitressing as you saved up. He also learned your favorite restaurant in the city (which he offered to take you to sometime, delighted when you accepted the offer) as well as your favorite bands, books, movies…all the surface-level questions he could hope to get answers for. 

To his dismay, two weeks of texts went by without you mentioning possibly meeting up to film together. Just when he thought that was off the table and this would only amount to friendship, his phone buzzed as he was working on an essay. He picked it up, assuming it would be either one of his parents or a spam call, and grinned when he saw your name. You were requesting a FaceTime call, so he quickly smoothed his hair before answering.

“Hey!” you said cheerfully. Wilbur was so relieved to see your face, not just on your OnlyFans, but you, you choosing for him to see you. You looked like you were fresh out of the shower, and he realized quickly that you weren’t wearing a shirt. He couldn’t see anything below your shoulders, but the realization still had him speechless for a moment before he regained his composure.

“Hi!” he said back with equal cheerfulness. “How’re you?” He flicked on another light in his apartment so that you could see him better.

“Good,” you replied. A moment of silence passed. “Listen, are you free Saturday?”

“Yeah, why?” The truth was, Wilbur wasn’t free Saturday. He was in a study group for an upcoming exam, but at that moment, he decided that he didn’t give a shit. He would happily flunk an exam if it meant getting to spend more time with you. He had only seen you in person once, and only for a tiny moment in time, and all he had thought about since then was getting more. 

“I have a business idea,” you said. Wilbur watched as you sat down on a couch at what must be your apartment. He caught a glimpse of the top of a towel wrapped around your torso, and although this thought made him slightly disgusted with himself, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Still, his disappointment only lasted a second once your words sunk in.

“A business idea?” He immediately perked up. “What is it?” His mind went wild with possibilities. A livestream? Some short clips? A whole homemade porn film? 

“So…your online persona is more on the submissive side, right?” you asked.

Wilbur’s brows furrowed. “How did you know?” Although the two of you had talked about the industry, bonded over creeps on the internet and the like, the details of your content had gone mostly undiscussed. 

He noticed the rather sheepish expression on your face. “I may have done some research,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight to keep himself calm. You had done research on him? That meant you had definitely seen some of his content, and not only that, but seeing his content made you more interested. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared. If it were anybody else, he wouldn’t have cared, but you? You, the subject of his obsession (he’d finally admitted to himself that’s what it was), the person he thought of every night before going to bed, thought he was desirable? Maybe not desirable, but at least worthy of seeing, worthy of working with. That was enough.

“It’s not weird!” he reassured you. “I…I may have done the same.” He did not tell you that he had a whole folder on his laptop that was only clips of you, that he’d labeled each video, that he’d gotten himself off to every single one. He definitely didn’t tell you that while filming himself the day prior, he’d been thinking of you the entire time. No, that was too much. That was creepy, that was obsession…but based on your admission, he figured a bit of the truth couldn’t hurt.

Thankfully, you reacted positively. “Thank god,” you said, laughing softly. “I thought you’d think I was a pervert.”

“No! No, of course not,” he said quickly. “I would never.” He settled his back against the headboard of his bed. “So, anyway, what was the idea?”

“Well, as I was saying,” you continued, “your persona is more on the submissive side. I portray myself as more dominant. Very convenient for us, no?” Wilbur nodded along as you spoke. “I was wondering…” You trailed off. “I can be forward with you, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it that way.”

“Great! How do you feel about getting pegged?” A moment of silence passed as Wilbur’s brain completely short-circuited. He didn’t realize how long he’d been quiet until you spoke again. “Okay, uh…maybe I was too blunt.” He heard your awkward laugh through the phone.

“No! No, not too blunt at all. I’m fine with it,” he replied. “Yeah, no, that sounds great.” He tried to hide the nervous undertone to his voice. Using toys on himself is one thing; being on the receiving end of someone else’s movements is another. “I’d be down for that.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You were quiet for a moment, there.”

“Yeah! Yes, I’m completely sure,” Wilbur replied. “You want to, um, livestream that? Or are we just filming…?”

“Just filming,” you replied. “Having sex live is way more complicated. This way, we can try a couple different angles to see what looks best on camera.”

“Right.” Wilbur took a deep breath. “That sounds good. You said Saturday?”

“Saturday, yeah,” you responded. “And I was thinking we do it at my place. No offense, I’m sure your setup is nice, but I’ve been in the game a bit longer. I’ve probably got nicer gear.”

“That’s great. Sounds good.” Wilbur’s nerves kicked up a few more notches. He was going to embarrass himself, he just knew it. He was going to walk in, immediately get hard just looking at your setup (which was already somewhat familiar to him) and look like a loser. He tried to shove that thought away.

Thankfully, it seemed that you sensed his discomfort. “Listen, uh…I know that you’ve only done something like this once,” you said. “If you ever change your mind, you can leave. I won’t judge you for that, even if we’re in the middle of filming. Consent rules don’t magically go away when there are cameras rolling.” 

Wilbur’s heart thumped in his chest. You were smiling warmly at him over FaceTime, and he wanted nothing more than to be there with you. His thoughts weren’t sexual, at least not in the moment. 

His mind wandered. When was the last time he’d been held by somebody? He’d never once been held by somebody who liked him romantically. He wasn’t sure that anyone outside his family had ever so much as hugged him. The thought made him dizzy. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

“Don’t thank me. It’s basic decency.” You continued smiling at him. “Oh, we don’t have a time set. Does one work?”

“One is fine,” Wilbur replied. “I’m totally cool with one.”

“Sounds good. Saturday at one, then,” you said. “Be ready to film.”

“I’ll be ready,” Wilbur promised. He just hoped that it was a promise he could keep.

He spent the rest of the week panicking. He shoved himself into schoolwork, studying, finishing up the essay that you had distracted him from. On Saturday morning, he woke up, shaved, took a shower, blow-dried his hair and got dressed. He knew that the clothes would be coming off, but he tried to dress somewhat nice anyway. He figured that even his nicest jeans and a button-up would be fine. He kept reminding himself that a business encounter was all this interaction would be.

Around noon, he got a text from you: 

Hey ;) ready to film?

He quickly replied. 

Born ready. Send your address?

The next message contained your address. He took a deep breath, brushed his teeth (for the third time that day) and set off. He left his apartment, got into his car, and started driving.

He put on a playlist on the way there, one he had made containing music from your favorite bands. He kept constantly checking himself in the mirror to the point where he realized he would hit something if he didn’t stop. He was an absolute wreck of nerves.

He pulled into the apartment parking lot and got out of his car. He walked into the building, took the elevator…

And there was your door. He stepped toward it and hesitantly knocked three times. The wait was agonizing. He stood outside the door for a minute before you opened it.

“Sorry!” you said. “I was in the middle of getting the lighting set up. Come in!”

“No worries.” He followed you inside. Your apartment was immaculately clean, with enough decorations to add character without being overwhelming. He followed you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it took a lot to keep himself calm the second he stepped through the door. The whole place smelled like you, and it was enough to make him lightheaded. He looked at the setup, and it was honestly impressive. You had a professional-level camera setup, multiple lights, and cameras at various angles. “This is…wow,” he said. “You know your shit.”

“I’m a professional.” You winked at him as you adjusted the angle on one of the cameras. “Okay, so…a bit unconventional, but we’re going to do a test of sorts to make sure that the angles on the cameras are correct. Is that alright?”

Wilbur shrugged. “As you said, you’re the professional. I’ll let you call the shots.” He had no idea what a “test” would entail, but he wasn’t about to question it. He stood off to the side, watching you as you worked. Your white tank top left absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

“Great.” You adjusted one of the lights, lowering it slightly. “What do you think? Too bright in here?”

Come to think of it, it was a little blinding. “Maybe a bit softer,” Wilbur suggested.

“Good idea.” You nodded in agreement and dimmed the lights. “Better?”

“Better.” Wilbur took a few deep breaths. “We good to go?” 

“Good to go.” You sat on the bed, examining the angles from your sitting point, clearly trying to decide if they were any good. “Yeah, definitely good to go.”

“Okay, then.” Wilbur stood there awkwardly. “What, um, what do I do?”

“Like I said, I want to test the angles before we start actually filming.” Wilbur watched as you pressed record on all the cameras. “I figure we just experiment with a few positions, see how the camera captures it. You can stay dressed if you want—-like I said, this is just a test.”

“Alright,” Wilbur murmured. He sat on the bed and nearly froze when you cupped his cheek. His face was so close to yours that he could barely breathe.

“You still okay with this?” you asked, searching him for any sign of hesitation. He nodded. This was terrifying, but the thought of walking away was even scarier. “Good.” Mere seconds later, you pressed your lips to his.

It took him a second to kiss back, but once he started, he never wanted to stop. Your lips were soft against his, just testing the waters at first. He had no idea where to put his hands, but he didn’t have to think about it for long, as you quickly pushed him onto his back. He made a small noise as you got on top of him and continued kissing him.

Wilbur didn’t consider himself a good kisser. It wasn’t like he had much experience. The kisses became rushed and sloppy, and just as he started to settle into the rhythm, you were getting off of him and checking the camera footage. He sat there, dazed, as you made your way around the edge of the bed, checking what the cameras picked up. You were explaining something about the process, something about lighting and shadow and…whatever else, Wilbur wasn’t listening. He could still taste you, still feel your lips against his.

He only snapped back to reality when you approached the side of the bed again. “You still okay with the pegging thing?” you asked.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He could feel how hard he was, the slight friction against his jeans, but he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. Who cared if this was just for work, just for content? He was about to have you, and having you in any capacity was better than not having you at all. 

“Alright, then.” He watched as you opened a nearby dresser. “I have a couple things that you can choose from…” You pulled out a box and set it on the edge of the bed. He scooted closer as you opened it, his throat catching at the array of items. “These are all the toys I have that are compatible with the harness,” you explained. “I’d rather us not start filming until the main event, so to speak. We can get you all prepped before that.”

He nodded, breath catching in his throat. “Sounds good,” he choked out. He glanced over the collection of toys. Some of them were definitely too big for him, so he avoided them. His eyes finally landed on a pink dildo, just slightly bigger than the one he’d used in a recent clip. “That one, maybe?” He pointed.

“Good choice,” you said. “Just got this one.” You picked it out of the box and laid it on the bed. Wilbur’s eyes stayed on you as he watched you gather more stuff—-the strap-on harness, some lube, a buttplug. You went about it with the precision of a doctor gathering medical supplies. It was both hot and slightly unnerving.

“Do we have everything?” Wilbur asked. He shifted slightly, both to get comfortable and because it was difficult to sit still when he was so close to you. 

“Yep! We’re set.” You sat back down on the bed close to him. He shuddered as you rested your hand on his thigh. “Still okay?”

“Still okay,” Wilbur confirmed. He closed his eyes as you leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back, less sloppy this time, less desperate. He wanted to be able to contain himself, at least a little. He didn’t know what you’d think of him if he appeared too needy.

Your gentle hands pushed him backward, and he laid down on your soft mattress, eyes unfocused as he looked up at you. He pulled you in for another kiss, and whined as your tongue found his. The sound was pathetic in his mind, but it seemed to spur you on further. He gasped as you grinded against him. Even though it was only the tiniest bit of friction, it was one of the best things he’d ever felt. His hands wandered to your waist, sliding under your tank top. It was the boldest thing Wilbur had done so far, and he was more than pleased when you leaned further into his touch. 

A moment later, your lips left his. He frowned for only a split second before realizing why. When he opened his eyes, your hands were brushing against his as you took off your tank top, leaving absolutely nothing underneath.

He stared. He couldn’t help it. He wanted so badly to touch all of it—-your stomach, your bare waist, your chest. It was almost too much. His cheeks went red as he heard you laugh softly. “Enjoying the view?” you teased.

“Oh! Um…sorry,” he said sheepishly. He forced his eyes upward, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. To his surprise, there was no sign of disgust or embarrassment on your face, only amusement. “You’re just gorgeous. Couldn’t help it.” 

“Of course I am. How else would I have gotten this job?” You smirked down at him, and he managed to laugh despite his nerves. “In all seriousness,” you said, “thank you. You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

It was one of the more tame comments he’d gotten in recent times, but it was by far the best. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice coming out as a squeak. Before he could apologize for that, you were kissing him again. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, and he helped you take it off without hesitation. His mind went blank as your hands wandered his skin, tracing the lines of his abdomen and chest. He returned the favor, letting his hands wander a little. He held back, not squeezing or grasping, just lightly touching. 

You slid out of your shorts, and Wilbur fumbled with the button of his jeans. Once he undid that, you got his zipper for him. You lifted yourself up for a moment so that Wilbur could remove his jeans. He shivered as his bare skin met the cool air of your room, then frowned as you got off of him. “We should get you ready,” you said. He nodded, finally removing his boxers.

He let them fall to the side of the bed, leaving him completely exposed. He could feel how hot his cheeks were, but you didn’t seem to be judging him for it. In fact, you were focused instead on putting lube on your fingers, occasionally glancing at Wilbur. He shivered, parted his legs without you asking. He laid there for a moment, staring at your ceiling, trying to calm himself. He only had a moment before you were back, settled down beside him. “You ready?” he heard you ask. He could only nod in response. 

He felt a finger press inside of him, and he sighed. His eyes closed, his lips parted, and he let himself revel in the feeling. For once, he had someone else’s fingers, someone else’s touch. Of course, only one finger wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a perfect start. He moaned quietly as you moved your finger in and out, slowly, almost teasingly. He spread his legs further for you, and you scooted closer. At one point, your finger curled just enough that it brushed against his prostate, and the moan that he let out was downright desperate. He clasped his hand over his mouth, only for you to move it away. “Where’s the fun in that?” you murmured. He couldn’t even process your words before you brushed his prostate again, and he nearly moaned even louder.

“More?” he questioned. “Please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You slid in another finger and he whined. It was then that a thought occurred to him.

When he used his own fingers or his own toys, he never properly prepped himself. Not ever. It always hurt a little bit, since for him, he was always doing it just for the camera. It made him realize how much he neglected himself when it came to his job, never truly considering his own boundaries or what felt good to him. And yet, here you were, and it didn’t hurt with you at all. Even though this was just for work, just for content, you were being more considerate and gentle with him than he was with himself. He made a mental note to thank you later.

In the meantime, your fingers curled against his prostate, and he let himself moan and whine, gripping at the sheets and breathing heavily. He let his mind go empty, let himself fully relax, let himself be yours even if only for a moment in time. He felt it as you switched between brushing against his prostate and prepping his hole, gently stretching your fingers to spread him a little wider each time. “This feel okay?” you asked. 

Wilbur nodded, unable to speak properly. You continued your movements, and Wilbur continued his moans. Your fingers were gone all too soon. Wilbur gasped a few times and forced his hazy vision to focus. “All good?” he asked, a little concerned. He watched as you wiped your hand off with a wet wipe before tossing the wipe in a bedside trash can.

“All good,” you replied. “You feeling ready? I grabbed a plug just in case you wanted to use that for more prep, but if you’re feeling good, I say we go for it.”

“I’m good to just go for it,” Wilbur said. To his surprise, his voice was a lot more steady than it had been. Something about your presence was calming, even in a situation like this that Wilbur had no experience with. He watched as you got the harness ready and strapped it on. Okay, maybe the dildo was a little bigger than he’d originally thought, but he would be fine. He hoped. “Thank you for, um, helping me get ready.”

“Why wouldn’t I help? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said. You finished putting on the harness before coating the strap in more lube than was probably necessary, just for good measure. “The nice thing about not working for some big porn company is that we get to do things in our own time. We’re not rushing to fit some director’s schedule.” 

Wilbur nodded. “Right.” He’d heard varying things about being in professional pornos from various people in the industry. Experiences ranged from incredibly negative to incredibly positive, depending on the company, the director and any number of other factors. Wilbur was grateful to be making enough money on his own to make this venture worth his while. It was nice not having to risk mistreatment. “Still. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched as you pressed “record” on each of the cameras. You turned back to him, your expression focused, methodical. “Ready?”

Wilbur nodded. “Ready. Um…safeword?” He definitely didn’t plan on using it, but it was always better to be safe.

“Is the stoplight system good with you?” Wilbur nodded. He’d never used it, but he knew what it was. “Perfect,” you replied. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.” You smirked, and Wilbur grinned back. All the nerves were gone, replaced with excitement and focus. The cameras were rolling. Time to put on a show.

Wilbur wiggled his hips slightly, getting comfortable as well as a bit closer to you. He glanced at one of the cameras and shifted a little so that it would catch his facial expressions better. His eyes quickly went back to you. He felt your hands on his thighs. “You gonna be good for me?” you asked, your voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He figured it was just for the cameras.

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said, slightly exaggerating the tremble in his voice. From the look in your eyes, you approved. “I-I’ll be good for you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” 

“Yeah?” Your hands ran up and down his thighs, causing him to tremble and shiver. “Then be a good boy, and tell me what you want.”

“I want…I want you to fuck me,” he said. He realized then that he was being too quiet for the cameras to pick up, but thankfully, you saved the scene.

“A little louder, sweetheart. I couldn’t hear you.” 

“Fuck me,” Wilbur said, a little louder. “Please.” Despite the fact that it was just an act, he knew that the way you called him sweetheart would be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come, if not months. His obsession was certainly deep enough for that.

“Good boy.” He felt the tip of the strap press into him, and he gasped. “Aw, already too much?” You asked teasingly.

He shook his head frantically. “No. Not—-not enough. Need more. Please…” He tried to scoot closer to you, to get more, but you shook your head.

“You only get what I give you. Understood?” He nodded. “Good boy.” You continued pressing the strap into him, painfully slow, giving him a chance to adjust to the size of it.

He whined, trying not to arch his back or move too much. Instead, his hands gripped at the sheets. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, right in the view of the camera to show off his face contorted with pleasure. His viewers always liked that; he figured that yours might as well. “Fuck,” he gasped out. “You’re so…so big…”

“Too much for you? Or are you gonna be good and take it?” You pushed the rest of the way in, and despite feeling fuller than he’d ever felt, not an ounce of pain came with it. Wilbur was grateful for that.

“I can be good,” Wilbur promised. “I can take it. I swear I can be good and take it.” He whined as you shifted your hips a little, and his hands went to grasp at your back. “Please. Please start moving. I need—-I need you.” Not even Wilbur could tell at this point where the genuinity ended and the act began. 

You grinned. “You’ve been good so far. I feel like you’ve earned a reward.” You started shifting your hips, slow but deep thrusts that had him reeling. You weren’t quite getting his prostate, and he suspected that it was on purpose, you wanting to draw this out longer for the cameras. 

Wilbur tilted his head back slightly. His eyes fell half-closed, and he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He let his lips remain parted. He suppressed his moans, opting instead for gasps and grunts. It would make better content, he figured, if he could start small and build up to it. It was taking a lot of effort to hold back.

“More?” he asked meekly, trying to make his voice loud enough for the cameras, yet quiet enough to keep up the submissive appearance. Although, he supposed it was more than an appearance. With some time, practice and confidence, maybe he’d be able to play a different role. For now, this is what it was. His body trembled slightly with the nerves and the sensations. 

“Hm? What was that?” Your movements slowed down a little, much to Wilbur’s dismay. “Did you just ask something of me without saying please?” You leaned down, your face hovering inches from his. “You remember when I told you that you only get what I give you, right?”

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” He sighed as you ruffled his hair, his brown eyes wide and gazing up at you full of desperation. “I promise.”

“Then say please,” you replied. “You can say please, can’t you, baby?” 

Wilbur nods, a sharp, jerky movement. “C-can I please have more?” he asks. 

“More what?” you asked innocently. Your hips continued rocking back and forth, so languidly that it was frustrating. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

“I-I want it harder,” Wilbur replied. “F-faster. Please? Please, I need it.” With every passing moment, Wilbur became less and less aware of the cameras picking up his every move. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend that this wasn’t all an act. It was a dangerous game, pretending that way, but as time passed, he cared less and less. 

“I guess I can give you what you want,” you said nonchalantly. “If you promise to be good.” Your movements picked up speed, hips thrusting slightly faster but just as shallowly. You weren’t thrusting all the way to the hilt, but Wilbur did his best to be patient despite wanting it desperately. 

“I promise,” he panted out. “Please. I’ll be good.” 

“Good boy,” you cooed. Wilbur felt a shiver go down his spine, and his shivers immediately turned to gasps as your thrusts got harder, faster, more forceful. He tried to tilt his hips a little, make you brush against his prostate, but you refused to comply, still avoiding the spot entirely. He let out a whine, high-pitched and needy. It was almost embarrassing, but based on the way you only smirked wider and picked up the pace, it was clear that you weren’t about to judge him for it.

Wilbur let himself get a little louder. He was tempted to cup your face, to run his fingers gently along your sides. He almost did before remembering that this wasn’t real. You didn’t love him. This was just sex. His second time ever, with someone he’d been crushing on obsessively, and none of it was even real. Despite how good he felt physically, he started to feel like shit mentally. The thoughts combined with your movements caused him to tear up a little bit, much to his embarrassment. He felt his eyes burn a little, and he glanced away from your face, trying to hide it.

It was no use. You saw. “Color?” you asked softly, too quiet for the cameras to pick up properly. Your eyes held a somewhat concerned expression. Immediately, Wilbur felt bad for upsetting you. 

“Green,” he replied easily. “I’m okay. Promise.” He even managed a small smile. 

You nodded, the worry slowly melting from your face. He moaned as your movements picked up speed again, and then whined as you finally, finally, hit his prostate. His moans got increasingly loud as you continued hitting that spot with every thrust of your hips, burying yourself inside of him to the hilt of your strap. He looked down between his legs as best he could, watching you move in and out of him. He could only look for a moment before having to tilt his head back and whine once again.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “So desperate for my cock, huh?” 

“Y-yes.” Wilbur gripped the sheets with one hand and your shoulder with the other. “Please, please, please don’t stop.” His voice came out sounding whiny and pathetic, wobbling with every word. 

“You’re doing so good,” you replied. “Taking me so well.” Wilbur moaned once more as you gripped his hips, using the hold as leverage to help you thrust harder. 

He could feel himself getting close. He noticed how much pre-cum he was leaking, small drops of it dripping down his cock. “S-so close,” he whined. His hand subconsciously went to his length, but you quickly pulled his hand away.

“Not without my permission,” you chided him. He gasped as you continued your movements.

“Please,” he said desperately. “Please, I need…fuck, I need you to touch me. Please.” 

You grinned and wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly pumping him up and down. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan. After just a few movements of your hand, his hips were twitching. He let out a series of swears and pleas, his words nearly incoherent as he finished, cum coating your hand and his stomach. You murmured soft words of praise, but he could barely register them. 

His vision was hazy as you stopped moving. He gasped for air, panting. He felt numb and overstimulated all at once. His hand that was gripping the sheets slowly loosened its grip, and he let his hand fall from your side. “Thank you,” he murmured. His throat felt scratchy and dry. 

“You were such a good boy,” you said, running a hand down his hip to his thigh. You pulled out, and he gasped at the feeling. You leaned in close to him, your faces inches apart. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, yeah?” He nodded eagerly before you pulled away. 

He watched as you turned off the cameras, and he finally let himself relax, laying down fully on the bed. His gaze went from you to the ceiling before he closed his eyes. He needed a break, a few moments to collect himself, to come back to reality. His eyes still burned, and he let a few tears escape down his cheeks. How could something so pleasurable also be so painful? 

He laid there for a few moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears away. He couldn’t get over the thought that this wasn’t enough, that he needed more of you, and he needed it to be real. It was as if all his years of loneliness were catching up to him at once. Every night that he wished someone would hold him, every day that he’d spent pining after people who would never love him back…not to mention the constant self-loathing that came from the small amount of self awareness that he had, the awareness that he was a creep who nobody could ever love. 

Wilbur heard you as you took off the harness before walking over to his side. “You alright?” you asked. Your voice was soft, concerned. “Was I too rough with you? Do you want some water, or maybe something to eat?” 

Wilbur opened his eyes and sat up a bit. “Um…water would be good. And no, you weren’t too rough with me.” He wiped his tears off his cheeks and managed a smile. “You were a lot less rough with me than I am with myself, honestly.”

You grinned back at him. “Okay, I’ll get you some water. If you want to clean yourself up, the bathroom is to the right of the entrance to my room. There are washcloths in the drawer under the sink.”

“Thanks,” he said. Some warm water to help wipe the sweat off him sounded almost magical. “I’ll go do that.” He slowly got off the bed, feeling a little shaky. Your kindness and the sweet sound of your voice had taken away some of his pain, but the loneliness lingered in his mind like an ever-present itch that he couldn’t reach the source of.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” you called after him. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. 

He used the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and was about to head back to your room when something caught his eye. You had a laundry hamper in the bathroom, and on top of the pile of laundry, nearly blended in with the surrounding fabric, was a pair of black underwear.

He immediately beat himself up for even thinking about taking it…but god, it was tempting. He would have something of you always, something you’d touched. More than just touched. He could keep it in his room, with his things, a little souvenir. 

The only other souvenir he’d ever kept was from the girl he was obsessed with in high school. She had once torn out a page of notes and dropped them in the trash can, and he had fished it out and kept it. Of course, he’d thrown it out after she’d called him out for being a creep. 

Never had he had something like this. But he quickly realized that, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t take it. He was naked, so it wasn’t like there was a pocket to hide it in. 

He pushed away the disappointment and left the bathroom. It was better this way, better that he not have the opportunity to do what he wanted. Despite knowing that it was for the best, he couldn’t help but feel upset by it. 

He re-entered your room, where you were sitting on the bed. You’d changed out the duvet, and there was a glass of water on the nightstand for him. You were dressed again in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he felt more exposed than ever. You turned when you heard him enter, and immediately, he was given a smile. “Feeling better?”

Wilbur nodded and smiled back. “Much better, thanks.” He glanced around and saw his clothing on the floor. “I’m just gonna…”

Your eyes flitted to the pile of his clothes. “Right. Good idea.” You then glanced at the dresser in the corner of your room. “Hold on, I have something you can wear instead of that uncomfortable button-up you were wearing.”

Wilbur was about to protest and say that the button-up was fine (despite the fact that it was cheap and a little itchy in reality), but he quickly shut his mouth and worked on getting his jeans and boxers on. If you had something for him to wear, something that was yours, that would be a dream come true. He watched you as you shuffled through a drawer. 

“Here it is,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. He saw as you picked up a t-shirt, one that was definitely too big for you. “I have this extra shirt. I accidentally ordered a few sizes too big, so you can have it if you want.” You tossed it over to Wilbur, and he caught it.

It was a band t-shirt. Wilbur recognized the band as one of your favorites. “Are you sure?” he asked. The material was soft in his hands, and Wilbur swore that it smelled like you. 

“Yeah, I’m never going to wear it. It’s yours.” 

Wilbur held it like it was precious. He examined it before sliding it on. It fit him well, not too loose but not too tight. He looked over at you and immediately noticed that you were looking right back at him. “It fits really well,” Wilbur said. “Thank you. This is much better than my other shirt.”

“No kidding,” you replied. “That thing felt like it was awful to wear.” You paused. “Plus, you look good in it.” 

Wilbur could hardly believe it. You had complimented his appearance twice. In one day. “Thanks,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “I, um, appreciate it.” He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and sat down in order to steady himself. He took a sip, immediately feeling refreshed. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt.

“Anytime.” You sat beside him on the bed. “Can I…ask you something serious?”

Wilbur put down the glass and turned his full attention to you. He saw the slight concern in your expression, and his small smile quickly faded. “Sure. What’s up?”

You tilted your head slightly as you looked at him. “Are you okay? I know that you said you were alright, but you seem a little shaken up still. I’m just a bit worried.”

He sighed, trying to figure out what to say. On the one hand, he could be honest. At least, a little bit honest. You didn’t need to know the full truth. On the other hand, he could insist that he was fine. He worked through the options in his mind, and settled on a half-truth.

“I, uh, have never been pegged before,” he said. “This was my first time. I think I just got a little overwhelmed is all.” He paused, and when he saw your expression grow more concerned, quickly added, “But I’m fine! Really, you were great. You didn’t do anything wrong, and it was a good first time. A great first time.” He could feel his cheeks get slightly hot, but he did his best to stay relaxed.

You looked surprised, your eyes slightly wide. “You…you got pegged for the first time, just now, on camera?” You shook your head, a barely noticeable movement. “That’s…brave. I’ve never done something for the first time on camera.”

“Yeah…yeah, I probably should’ve prepared beforehand,” Wilbur said. “But I just figured…it’s not like I’ve never done anything anal on my own. I figured it would be fine, and it was.”

“But you looked upset,” you said.

“Just overwhelmed,” Wilbur replied. “I promise it’s okay.” The last thing he wanted to do was deter you by making you feel bad. Besides, it really wasn’t your fault. 

“Wilbur…” You looked away, pausing as if considering what to say. “Allison showed me a short clip the other day of that video you two filmed, and…and I don’t know if it was just an act, but I got the feeling that you were very new to what you were doing.” You looked back at him, and he felt the intense desire to disappear, to change the subject, because how could he admit how little experience he had without being intensely embarrassed? “Was that…did you ever have sex before that?”

Once again, Wilbur had the choice between honesty or a lie. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he wanted to try for more with you—more than just friendship, and definitely more than business partners. The terrifying thing was this: if he wanted that, truly wanted that, then he would have to be honest with you at some point.

“...No,” Wilbur said, barely audible. He avoided eye contact. “I was, um, too nervous to tell her that it was my first time. I wanted to do a collab, so I just didn’t say anything.” He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to distract himself. “I…maybe I was wrong to do that. I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I just didn’t want to wait around for things to happen for real, because I need the money now, not later, and…and it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen anytime soon, so…” He shrugged, hoping that the explanation was enough.

“And…and was it good?” you asked. “Like, was it a good first time for you? Did you enjoy it?”

Wilbur thought back to it. Allison was nice, sure. She was amenable, very understanding when it came to the fact that Wilbur was new in the industry. And yeah, Wilbur had finished that first time with her, but when he really thought about it, he couldn’t say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t enjoyable, being with somebody he had no connection with. It wasn’t enjoyable knowing that this incredibly vulnerable moment of his life was being livestreamed in real time, and it definitely wasn’t enjoyable that his first time was done for profit rather than for the experience, for the fun.

“I mean, does anyone enjoy their first times?” Wilbur managed to dodge the question, but his eyes still didn’t meet yours.

“Yeah! Well…I don’t know. They’re generally not good in the sense of being physically pleasurable, but they don’t have to be awful,” you said. “I just…I can’t imagine doing that in front of a camera, streamed live like that. And it sounds to me like you did it because you didn’t feel like you had any other choice.”

Wilbur finally looked up at you, scared of a reprimand, scared of your judgment. But all he saw in your expression was worry and kindness. “I…I’ve just never really had the opportunity,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I kissed a girl, like, once in high school, but that was it. And then not again until Allison. I just wanted to get it over with, to feel…I don’t know. Normal, I guess. Desirable. Like…like someone wanted me.”

The second the words came out, Wilbur was mortified. He’d never told anyone any of this, and the fact that he’d told you of all people, the second time he’d ever spoken to you in person, made him wish he could turn back time and erase this entire conversation. 

He felt you gently take his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said, “that things didn’t turn out the way you would have liked.”

Wilbur looked down at his hand, gently wrapped in yours, and he gave it a small squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t awful.”

“Still,” you said. “It sucks.”

“It does suck.” He watched as you let go of his hand, hiding his disappointment. “Anyway, um…I’m sorry to unload all that on you,” he said, his self awareness returning to him.

“It’s fine, Wil. We’re friends, and I wouldn't have said what I said if I wasn’t prepared for a response,” you said. “Really, it’s okay.” 

He could hear the softness in your voice, the hint of concern. It nearly made him cry again, just knowing that somebody cared about him at all. “Thank you,” he said. “I…I really appreciate it.” The words felt so tame in comparison to what he wanted to say, but all the words he could think of seemed too much. He couldn’t believe that you’d referred to him as a friend, that you wanted to continue associating with him. It seemed too good to be true.

One thing was certain: it would take a lot of willpower to make this obsession go away, and Wilbur wasn’t sure he had it in him to let you go. 

To Wilbur’s absolute delight, his time with you didn’t end there. After filming, he stayed for dinner. He ate pizza with you on your couch, watching a cheesy 80s movie and making fun of the special effects. Admittedly, he watched you far more than he watched the film, and he felt shivers every time you looked his way.

Over the course of the next week, he messaged you every day. Sometimes, it was because he messaged first, and other times, you were the one to reach out. He forced himself to exercise some restraint, to not be too eager. You made it difficult. Many of the texts were about the video, you giving Wilbur updates on the editing progress. At the end of the week, it went live. Wilbur was notified by your message:

Done! Let’s see how this goes

Wilbur grinned, swallowing back all the anxiety that he felt. What if it was bad? What if people didn’t like it? What if his inexperience showed on camera? 

He shoved it all down and sent a reply.

Sweet

After a moment, he was struck both by how boring his last message was and how great of an opportunity this presented him with. 

Want to celebrate tonight? Drinks on me?

He waited anxiously for a reply. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with no response, until finally, your name appeared on his screen. 

How about that bar a block from my place? You know the one?

Wilbur did, in fact, know the one. He’d passed it on the drive to your apartment. 

I know it. Send the address and I’ll be there

Eight?

He smiled.

Eight sounds perfect :)

Once again, he couldn’t believe his luck. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair. He left early to make sure that he was there in time and that you wouldn’t be stuck waiting for him. The cab ride to the bar felt like it took a million years, and when he got there, you were sitting at the bar waiting for him.

The bar was packed. There was music blasting over the speakers, some pop song that Wilbur couldn’t place, though he’d heard it over the radio a million times. He sat beside you at the bar. “Hey!” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. 

You greeted him with equal enthusiasm. “You made it!”

“Of course I made it,” he said, grinning. He could already feel his cheeks get warm, although whether it was from the crowded bar or his proximity to you, he couldn’t tell. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only about five minutes,” you replied. “But I got here early. Still waiting for the bartender.”

“Perfect.” Wilbur glanced at his surroundings. The scene reminded him of when he’d first met you. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a month. “Is the video doing well?” It was too early to draw many conclusions, of course, but he was curious.

“Holy shit, you have no idea,” you said, grinning. “People love the video. Already, I’m getting messages asking for more of it.” You seemed proud of yourself, and Wilbur couldn’t blame you. You’d done most of the work, after all. 

He could feel his heart pounding. People loved it, which meant that you would probably want to do it again. More time spent with you, more excuses to see you…it all sounded perfect. “So when is part two?” Wilbur asks. “If people love it, I mean…we should probably get to filming more material, right?”

Your smile faltered, and his heart immediately sank. Of course. Of course it was all too good to be true, too perfect to be real. He should have known better. When you finally spoke, Wilbur was already bracing himself for rejection. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said. Before Wilbur could say anything, you continued. “Not because I don’t like you, okay? I…I won’t lie, it was fun. I’m just…”

“You can be honest,” Wilbur said, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the sounds of chatter and music. “If you don’t like me and don’t want to do it again, that’s okay. I get it.” He knew that he sounded pathetic and self-deprecating, but he had no clue what else to say. 

“Wil, I just said that it wasn’t because I don’t like you,” you said. “Please take my word for it.” Wilbur nodded, slightly embarrassed. “The reason I don’t want to film more is because I’m a little worried about you.”

Oh. In a way, that was a relief to hear. It meant that you didn’t dislike him. On the other hand, he was terrified. Did you see him as pathetic? He wouldn’t blame you, but it was still a blow to his ego. “...Why?” he finally asked.

“I just…” You sighed. “You were literally crying, Wil. It was concerning. And I’m not saying that you did anything wrong, because you didn’t, I just think that…” You laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Fuck, I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding insensitive.”

Wilbur froze. You were going to call him a creep, pathetic, a loser. He just knew it. “Just say it,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You have some things to sort out,” you said finally. “This type of job can ruin you if you don’t have the self-esteem to handle it. I’ve seen it before. People go into it feeling like shit about themselves, and then all the validation they get is purely sexual, and it fucks with them when they don’t get that validation anymore. It can be hard to separate your sense of self from your sex appeal, you know? But you have to.”

Wilbur took a deep breath. That was somehow worse than anything he’d anticipated you saying. He wasn’t a creep in your eyes, maybe, but he was broken. He had low self-esteem. You saw him as something to be pitied, and that was a hard pill to swallow. He kept opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He finally gave up. “Okay,” he said finally. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

You went quiet. It was only until the bartender showed up that you spoke again, ordering some drink that Wilbur couldn’t make out the name of due to being lost in his own thoughts. When you asked him what he wanted, he replied with water. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore. 

After the bartender left, Wilbur felt your eyes on him. “Yeah?” he questioned. “What?”

“Did you actually listen to what I said?”

“What? Yeah, of course I did.” 

“Wilbur…”

“I get it,” Wilbur said quickly. “I know that I’m…that I’ve based my whole life around this, and I know that it’s concerning, and I get it. But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Take a break,” you suggested.

“I need the money.”

“Okay, well, go back to solo content for a bit. Because I think you need a moment to think things through.”

It didn’t sound so bad, actually, going back to doing things alone for a while. As long as he still had you in some capacity, maybe it would turn out okay. “Alright,” he said. “I could do that.”

“Good.” You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink before turning back to Wilbur. “I think it would be good for you.” 

“Probably,” he admitted. He sipped his water, trying to enjoy your presence despite the war of emotions he had going on. It took him a moment for him to ask the question that he wanted to ask. “...Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “I just think you need some time off.”

He accepted the answer, but there was one more thing he needed to ask. “I’m sorry if this is…weird,” he said carefully. “But I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date sometime. Like, a proper date, not…”

“An amateur porn filming session?” 

“Right. That.” Wilbur felt his hands trembling. “Um…we could go out to dinner sometime. Wherever you want.” He felt dizzy, his breathing shallow and his heart pounding way too fast. “If you want to.”

You took an agonizingly slow sip of your drink. “I’d like that,” you said finally. You smiled at him, and it was like everything falling into place. Wilbur could breathe. You hadn’t rejected him. 

And soon enough, he would have you, one way or another.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x reader smut #simpbur #saccharine writes

[everlastlady]

Bloody Legend: Mammon X Reader

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✰- Author's Note: Someone onced asked once the new episode of Helluva Boss was dropped, would I write Mammon content. Well here is some angst filled Mammon content depending how this goes there might be a part 2 with a happy ending. I have to say, I and absolutely enjoyed the new episode yesterday. Especially Mammon is a character that you can hate or love. I have mix feelings about him because I relate to Fizzarolli, but I did enjoy Mammon being a greedy, egotistical, and controlling bastard. But for those who want to get jiggy with Mammon, here is your food. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✰- Story Contains: Controlling Mammon, Angst, Mammon being mentally abusive, Striker, Verosika Mayday, Gender Neutral Reader, Some Wholesome moments, hazbin easter egg & Spoilers from the new episode so read with caution.

✰- Word Count: None today, I'm writing this in Tumblr mobile app.

✰- Posted: 10/30/2023

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Mammon was absolutely pissed how things ended at the show. How his cash cow Fizzarolli sung that song, if anyone sang it around him. He would squish them like a bug without hesitation. Mammon was loosing money because Fizzarolli quit, no one was being the merchandise and especially the sex dolls. The papers talked about what was going on and Mammon was hoping that Asmodeus was regretting revealing that he loves Fizzarolli, but no it seems everyone and the media was eating it up like some cheesy love story. Mammon couldn't even hire the twins because they ended up in the hospital in comas after what happened to them at the show. He needed a new cash cow and he couldn't hold another clown off because no one would buy the tickets. He felt frustrated and lost, until he met you.

You were a comedian in the Wrath Ring while Mammon was visiting he came across you in the run down comedy club. He saw that the crowd adored you. How you made people spit with laughter, cry from laughter, or even die. Even your jokes matched your looks in which in his mind you look absolutely stunning. He thought you were too good for this place way to good. He could offer you a better deal, a better life, and so much fame and fortune. So after the show he went to your dressing room. You were surprised to see the king of greed in your dressing room. It was quite scary because of how big and intimidating he was. " (Y/N)! Finally nice to meet ya! " He exclaimed in a large smile while looking down at you. He thought it was cute how nervous you were how, you almost fell over trying to bow to him. The way you stumbled over your words. Usually he hated people who stumbled with your words; but when you did it. It was cute.

Mammon finally convinced you to leave this shithole comedy club and become his mascot. He talked about all the fame and fortune he could give you. This made you feel over the moon because you always wanted to be famous but also support your mother who has been taking care of you ever since your father walked out on you both. So you agreed to become Mammon's new clown face. Mammon felt happy; he would soon be making money and he especially had you. Mammon did as promised. You had fame and fortune. You even were able to get your mother a beautiful big home with maids, butlers, and anything she desired. Mammon could see how you cared for your mom so he made a mental note of that.

You were making Mammon so much money. You also had many fans. You loved your fans but the creepy ones always made you uncomfortable. You would tell Mammon about who would tell that's just show business that you are bound to have creepy fans. " Don't worry that just means you are doing an amazing bloody job! The creepier ones spend the most money. But don't worry they won't touch ya. You are tough so please don't disappoint me, mate, you do wanna continue to support me and you, especially your mum? Think about your poor mum and all she went through on those streets to support you (Y/N) " Mammon said while putting on a pretend frown and fake sadness in his voice. This made you feel guilty for complaining, Mammon waa right with popularity in show business comes creepy fans and you wanted to continue to give your mom the prefect life style.

After that conversation you noticed that Mammon got four hellhounds to always escort you everywhere. Anytime a creepy fan came up. They were always thrown, bit, or pounded it into the ground. This eased your anxiety a bit but also made you a bit annoyed because not only are they your body guards. But they choose what you ate, who you talked with, and your schedule. You tried to address Mammon about this but he said. " They are just making sure that you stay fit it's good that you do or else your fans will leave you, you also need a great social status so you'll be meeting with Verosika Mayday soon, and the schedule just helps get things in order. I don't want to hear anymore complaints from you, you're a bloody legend (Y/N) so act like it... " He would dismiss you and go back to counting his money.

Mammon wanted to boost your social status, so you were set to perform at a popular restaurant in the Pride Ring. You were going up after some radio demon called Alastor. " I'm not sure why you brought me here. " Striker grumbled to his girlfriend Verosika. " Oh, calm down it's been a while since we had a date night. " Verosika said while fixing her dress. " Date night? This is barely a date night you have meeting with that big ass Christmas tree Mammon and his little sellout puppet. " Striker said while fixing his tie. " Still a date night so please behave for me~ " Verosika would bat her eye lashes as Striker sighed. " Yes darlin' " Striker said. Verosika had started dating Striker a long time ago the two met in a bar and ordered the same drink that one drink turned into several the two on their drunken rant discovered they both hate i.m.p especially Blitzø what became a beautiful start of friendship turned into romance. So here the two sat at the large table with Mammon. Verosika and Mammon drinking and laughing while talking about show business. Striker just drank his whiskey while munching down on a steak, even though he hated fancy places like this, he had to admit the steak was good.

As you perform on stage, Mammon seemed delighted at your performance but Verosika and Striker could tell something was off about you. The two exchanged looks, Verosika clears her throat. " Is (Y/N) ok? They look sickly and exhausted. " Verosika said to Mammon. The greed lord looked at Verosika. " Yeah yeah, (Y/N) that's just their make-up and they are just nervous. " Mammon laughed nervously, he'll have to talk with you later. Striker could smell bullshit from a mile away. " Always trying to make a profit off my kind. Do they even want to be up there, I know what make-up is and that isn't make up you piece of- " Before Striker could finish his sentence. Verosika shoved a piece of steak in Striker's mouth and laughed nervously. " Ignore him, he's had too much to drink. " Verosika said glaring at Striker. Who was choking on the steak but managed to sallow. " It's good, I'm sure that your little boyfriend just jealous of (Y/N), they choose to be on stage. (Y/N) always pushes their self to work hard even when not feeling well, I beg them to rest but they don't listen. They just love making me money and supporting their poor mum. " Mammon said the last part dramatically.

Striker never really cared about anyone besides his horse Bombproof and his girlfriend Verosika. So after your performance he was determined to meet you. So after Verosika and Mammon went off to talk. He decided to prove what Mammon was spitting about you at the table was bullshit. He found his way into the dressing room and saw you throwing up into a trash can and shaking with chills. He snatched a blanket off the couch and quietly walked over to you and drapped it over your shoulders. You turned around thinking it was one of your bodyguards but jumped seeing it was some imp in western attire. You tried to scream because you thought it was another creepy fan but Striker covered your mouth. " I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not a creepy fan, I actually don't give two shits about you. I just want to ask you some questions so can you give me some answers alright? " Striker asked. You slowly nod your head as Striker pulled away his hand. " Are you happy and doing okay working for Mammon? "

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Let me know if you guys want a part 2 because this is fun to write again depending how this goes. It can turn to Mammon X Reader or Striker X Reader X Verosika. Or even Mammon X Reader X Verosika X Striker. Depending on what y'all want just let me know and feel free to share ideas. Also let me know if y'all want Alastor to make another appearance.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva striker #helluva verosika #helluva mammon #helluva x reader #helluva fanfiction #helluva fandom #helluva mammon x reader #helluva x gn reader #helluva season 2 #striker x verosika #everlasting writes🪻 #bloody legend

[brisquad-unit-4402]

aged whisky

my comfydant friend after we saw the archivist debut: might as well also give in and just brainrot until my brain is fried cuz this ain't leaving my mind anytime soon

me: yeaaa brainrot. mmmmg. I JUST WISH I HAD FUCKING CONHERENT THOUGHTS OTHER THAN mmm what if i kissed him on the cheek very nicely

me:

me:

me 4 hours later at 5:44 am: so it wasn’t just the cheek

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, making out, suggestive, old people in love, reader and fulgur are implied to be middle aged or older, domestic

⚠️ drinking/alcohol (reader and fulgur both drink)

⚠️ suggestive content (sex jokes, it's spicy but not explicit ykwim?)

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you’re not quite sure how it started, but maybe it’s the whisky clouding your head. it’s like your thoughts lazily swirl together like a potion, or those fancy cocktails fulgur likes to make on the weekends, all loose and giggly while the buzz rests in the back of your head.

he’s giggly too, toppled on top of you and the couch cushions. some concert from one of the popular bands when you were young is playing on the tv, but it’s all but forgotten as you laugh about nothing together. the drinks from tonight make it easy to space out, and so does the edge of fulgur’s beard. it tickles your face as he pecks you, which just makes you laugh more.

“you’re so messy,” you say in-between laughter. he’s leaving kisses all over and you don’t even know if he’s aiming straight or not. one of them lands at the edge of your mouth. you get a whiff of spice just as his beard prickles up along your lips. “you smell like booze.”

“i wonder why.” he leaves a wet one there as a final attack. now that he’s done you can admire him and how he blocks the dim overhead light. out of its usual ponytail, his hair almost reaches his palm flat along the couch and beside your shoulder. the obscured light makes the shadows around his face darker, and so are the lines of wrinkles along his features.

mindlessly you taste the mark he left behind. sure enough, fruits and spice drag along the tip of your tongue. there’s not much alcohol but you swallow the burning feeling. it goes right down into your belly, just as warm as your face and the telltale flush of drunkenness along it.

you nuzzle up to fulgur’s palm to quell the heat. steel mesh curls around your face as natural as could be.

and fulgur starts up again as you let your cheek go exposed, and his beard tickles, and the whisky burns just enough. his glasses bump up against your skin.

you grunt and pat the side of his head—you might’ve landed on the ear?—to get him to rise, then take the glasses off by the bridge. “you’re going to smudge them.”

“ah, i don’t care.”

“you should. they’ll get fingerprints.”

“they always have fingerprints no matter what i do.” now that the glasses are off you can see how his brows lower while his eyes light up into silver. looks like someone just got a bad idea. as if he wasn’t up to trouble already. “you just wanted to see me without them.”

“guilty as changed,” you admit as you set them aside out of his reach. “looks like you caught me, officer, i surrender.”

you were already snickering but fulgur dives down to the crook of your neck and presses down another kiss, still laced with whiskey. there’s more of that scent as he smiles harder than he puckers. “how dare.”

the tipsy giddiness surges as he pulls the collar of your shirt aside to go lower. god, you feel stupid happy like this, spending your night by curling a hand into his hair and pushing him down close to you. it’s getting thinner than it used to be but you can’t find it in yourself to care between the whisky and the smooches. “creepy old man.”

“ooh, but you like it.”

“where did my gentleman go? he was just pouring me drinks fifteen minutes ago!” you cry, a playful grin over your face. “aren’t you supposed to be good at holding your alcohol?”

he snickers. “i am, i just don’t want to.”

“so you’re being a pervert.”

“mm-hm. don’t complain, or else i’ll do this!”

“ah—that tickles!”

“heh.”

“horndog!”

“woof!”

your eyes snap open. like a bolt from the blue, dog is right next to you at eye-level, sitting pretty with a tongue lolled out. you jerk your head away as he pants—that is definitely not alcohol on his puppy breath.

mood effectively ruined, you pat dog’s head and give him a good ruffle behind the ear. “now look what you’ve done, you got his hopes up.”

“you’re the one that summoned him.”

“you started it.” dog plops his chin on your body, ready for his nighttime walk. “tell you what, take him outside and we’ll continue.”

“consider it done.”

you cover your eyes to reset, then rub them, and blink as the process ends. fulgur’s head is still propped between your neck and chest. he rests his cheek along your softness and hums. the scruff along his face brushes your skin with the quiet sound.

“in a minute,” he adds. “i don’t wanna move.”

how he can flip from sexy to adorable in a second, you still have no idea. you get the feeling you’d never get the answer no matter how much of your life you spend with him.

the giggles have passed but the lightness in your heart is all the same. your vision blurs but you take his chin in your hand, letting your aged fingertips roll along the lines that sweep out from his mouth and the hollows of his cheeks.

you’re the one that kisses first this time. you end up landing along his top lip and the stubbly hairs above. moving down is inelegant but you make it there, and he opens his mouth, and the whisky burn goes smoky along your tongue.

sweetness breaks through as you drag your lips up across his face until you get the will to part, just by his ear now as you hold him close to your chest. “fulgur,” you whisper. “he can just go out to the yard, can’t he?”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#fulgur ovid #fulgur ovid x reader #fulgur ovid fluff #noctyx #noctyx x reader #noctyx fluff #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #4402 writes #fulgur ovid imagines #noctyx imagines

[multific]

Forever Romance

Asa Emory x Reader

Summary: Who was the strange man leaving gifts for you? Why did he cover his face? And why was he climbing into your home through your window?

You have seen him before, a week ago to be exact. Every Thursday morning, he would come to your house and leave a beautiful display by your door. 

The first thing you got with a beautiful butterfly, a peacock butterfly to be exact.

The small insect was beautifully displayed in an environment made just for it. You could tell this was hand-made, you could tell someone spent some time making it. Making it for you. You were very confused and not even the little tag on the front which explained what the butterfly inside was gave any hints.

But you didn't find any hidden cameras inside so, you kept it.

Then, they arrived weekly. Every Thursday morning, as you were ready to go to work, another glass display was in front of your door.

This has been going on for a month. Then, you received a moth, a luna moth. But what was different is that it arrived with a note.

"He reminded me of you." the note said, and it should have set an alarm off in your head, you should have gone to the police, but you didn't.

And you placed the new gif next to the others. You had to install a new shelf just for them.

Then on the fifth week, you saw him. He wore all black, and you couldn't make his face out but you saw him place the next box in front of your door, and just as fast as he came, he left.

And then now, a week later, he was there. But this time, he stayed a little longer. As if he was thinking, he looked at your door, you wondered if he would knock, but he didn't.

All you saw were dark eyes that seemed to shine in the dark.

And then, he left.

Two days after, he came back, you watched as he climbed through the back window. You assumed he didn't know you were home, but you were right there, watching him as he straightened back up and your eyes locked. 

"You could have just knocked." you said as you turned back to your book. "My electricity is dead, something with a fuse but they should fix it soon." you explained why you had no lights on, so he assumed you weren't home. "Are you here to take them back? I quite like them though, at least let me keep the Luna Moth. He's my favourite."

Asa just stood there, stunned. 

Most people would scream and try for the front door, but not you. You just sat there, reading your book as this menacing man just stood in front of you with a belt filled with things to torture you with. He took a couple steps, going from your kitchen to the living room and he noticed the new shelf, you even installed a light to illuminate the gifts he gave you.

It moved something in him.

To be fair he expected you to throw them away, they were after all a creepy man's gifts. Then he noticed the luna moth was missing. As he looked around the room he noticed it was right by your side on the small table in the corner of the room. So that was your favourite.

"Are you here to kill me?" you suddenly asked and he looked at you. You pointed to the big knife by his side. "Torture me and kill me? I assume you are the guy who had that collection in that old hotel right?"

"I'm not going to kill you." he then suddenly said, surprising even himself a little. 

"Okay, then what's the plan? I wanted to order some food and watch a movie, but if you rather leave that is also okay with me." 

Should he stay? 

"I-I'm not sure." he really didn't plan this long ahead. "Can I stay?"

"Sure, you can show me how you made them? I would like to watch you make one maybe?"

"Okay."

---

From that day on, instead of dropping a gift by your door, he would knock and you'd let him inside.

And one day, he would invite you to his house so he can show you his collection. 

You honestly had a great time with him. Despite knowing what he had done, you found him rather charming. an interesting man to talk to, he had a very different and creative mind. 

And he seemed to enjoy your company. 

You often noticed him just looking at you, at first you thought he was creepy but soon, you realized it was more adoration than anything.

Asa Emory, you learned his name and it had to be a sign that he trusted you, after all the two of you have been meeting for two months now, the man knew basically everything about you.

On that same day, he kissed you. It was a very sloppy kiss, making you wonder if he has ever kissed or not. 

He was a very interesting man, and you were very attracted to him. 

One day, he arrived at your house with a gift. 

"I made this for you."

"You really shouldn't have." you opened the box and inside was a beautiful pink and yellow moth. "This is... I have never seen anything like this." 

"Dryocampa rubicunda. or more commonly known as the Rosy Maple Moth."

"It really is gorgeous. But the luna moth will forever be my favourite."

"As you wish." he kissed the top of your head before he moved to the kitchen to grab something to eat. 

"Thank you!" you yelled after him and you heard him open the fridge while you put your newest addition on the shelf. The shelf was now almost full. 

As you took a step back to admire the shelf you stumbled over your sofa and fell with a big thud. 

The sound was more than enough to alarm Asa but when you made a painful sound he rushed into the room, only to find you on the floor, holding your right ankle.

"I think I twisted it." you said as you looked up at him. "I'm so clumsy." you wanted to laugh but your ankle really did hurt. 

He held your leg as he ran his fingers over the spot that hurt.

"You didn't break it. We need to put ice on it and you'll have to take it easy."

"But I really wanted to make some cupcakes for us." you pouted as he put you on the couch. 

"You have to rest, Darling."

"Okay, okay. Can you give me my book please?" he went to your desk and go the book you have been reading for a while now.

"What is this about? "Forever Romance" what a title."

"It's a romance story, obviously. But I like the plot."

"Do you now? And what is it about?"

"It's about a serial killer who falls in love with a woman. It is written is his perspective, how he goes from almost killing her to loving her while he still kills people. She accepts him of course." 

Asa quickly turned the book and read the back, you weren't lying. The plot really was as you said.

"And why are you reading this?"

"He reminds me of you, and I want to know what I should and shouldn't do."

So, you wanted to learn because you were afraid of him?

The worry in his eyes showed.

"I just don't want to make you angry or have you do something you do not want to. I do trust that you wouldn't hurt me intentionally, Asa." You said as he finally handed you the book.

"I wanted to you know. That day, I wanted to make a trap for you, and make you a part of my collection." he confessed, but you already knew that, judging by how he entered your house with a belt full of weapons.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm glad I did."

"I glad as well. I do love you Asa. I really do, even if the world might not agree, my feelings for you are strong."

"I know." he grabbed your hand and squeezed it. He wasn't ready to say it yet, and you were okay with that, he didn't have to say it for you to know and feel it.

"Why did you send me gifts if you wanted to kill me?" you suddenly asked, realizing this detail.

"At first I didn't, I send those to court you. Gifts of my affection. But then I thought that it makes me weak, that you make me weak with these feelings. But I was wrong. And I realized when I looked at you that day." you smiled at him, running your thumb over his hand.

"Okay, go eat, I'll read my book, can you bring me some water please, and the ice?" he nodded before kissing your forehead and he left for the kitchen again.

He gave you the ice and made sure your leg was comfortable before he prepared something to eat. 

When bedtime came, he made sure that your ankle was comfortable before joining you. 

He pulled you close and you were ready to fall asleep when he spoke up.

"You could have just asked you know, instead of reading that book." he said as he grabbed your hand which was on his chest. 

"I know you didn't have the best childhood. I didn't want to sound insensitive or something. But I do want to know you on a deeper level, as long as you are willing to share."

He wanted to share things with you, of course he did. But it was also very hard for him to open up.

"I am willing but not about my father, I can talk to you about my collection."

"Did you start a new one?"

"Yes, and this one will be much better, much refined and detailed, I just need the people for it."

"You could hold an exhibition for me. I'd love to see your work."

"Hmm." he liked the idea, very much, now he wanted to work even harder to show it to you. “I have two dogs.”

“WHAT? Two doggies?! And you never told me?! Asa, you know how much I love animals!” he wanted to laugh as you suddenly jumped up and looked at him. “I want to see them!”

“Two German Shepperd, they help me hunt. They don’t have names.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, I’ll name them. So are they... not nice?”

“To you they will be. They are well trained.” you felt his hand move to your back as he pulled you to lay back down on his chest. “And you can name them, but don’t become too attached in case they die.”

“Too bad, I already am. I love animals.”

“I know, Sweetheart. I’ll take you to meet them tomorrow.”

“So, they are not at your house? Okay, you can bring them here, because my ankle is... still hurts a little.”

He nodded and he started to rub your back, random patterns to get you to sleep.

You were the most important person in his life. 

Something he never imagined he would feel and experience was love. 

Sure, he loved his collection, but this was very different. The love he felt for his work and for you were two different ends of the spectrum yet somehow, still similar. 

He wanted nothing more than to show that to you, that love he felt and make you feel loved.

Since you were the first person to fully accept him as he was.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo​ @avengers-r-us​ @destynelseclipsa​   @spilledinkindumpster​ celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll​ snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow​ @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith​ @soleil-dor​ @alex12948​ scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​​ @paola-carter​​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

#asa emory #asa emory x reader #asa emory x you #asa emory x y/n #asa emory x male reader #x reader #the collector #the collector x reader #the collector x you #the collector x fem reader #the collector imagine #the collector imagines #the collector scenarios #the collection #the collection x reader #the collection imagines #the collection imagine #slasher #slasher short #slasher x y/n #slasher x #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #slasher imagine

[teabutmakeitazure]

His Way

>Yan! Childe x Fem! Reader

a/n: My favourite ginger man strikes again. I don't know where and how this came from but hey! It did! And it's here! I hope I did the warnings properly oof

Also, tagging a lovely moot @theinnerunderrain whose babysitter Childe gave me some brainrot to write gingerbread again. Thank you for your services to the community <3

Warnings: unwanted letters, creepy letter (?), breaking in, coercion, slight physical assault

Word count: 1.8k

*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*

"Are you okay? You seem quite out of it."

Childe's voice snaps you out of your daze, and you look up from your mug of hot chocolate. Blue eyes bore into yours as you're forced to stare into the dull colour. You open your mouth to utter a thoroughly practised reply.

"I'm fine. Why? Does something seem wrong?"

He raises a brow at your monotone voice, clearly not buying your answer. "A lot does actually. However, I won't pry. If you're not comfortable sharing your business with me, I won't push you."

The sincerity in his tone makes you feel bad, but you brush off the feeling. It's not like he can do anything about your homesickness. He soon changes the topic and before you know it, your meeting with your friend is over and you leave for the market for groceries.

You later get back home, closing the door behind you but find the kitchen window open. You live in a third storey apartment so it shouldn't be an issue, but the open windows are becoming more and more frequent. You're starting to think you need better locks to combat the harsh winds of Snezhnaya.

A look at the calendar and you cancel out another day towards your return back home. Not getting accepted anywhere else, you chose to study further in Snezhnaya. Not the best decision but this is home to the most advanced technology of Teyvat so why not?

You quickly get to making dinner, excited at the prospect of being home in a week.

-

There was something in the mail again: a debt letter. You've never taken a loan from the Northland Bank, let alone any bank, so why are letters being sent to you? Whoever it is keeps asking you to pay your dues really needs to check the address they sent it to. It's been keeping you on edge.

When you open the letter, deciding to take it to the bank this time, you find something else entirely.

"Compensation for theft. Meet me, and we can work things out smoothly. No one will be hurt, especially not you. However, if you fail to arrive at the given place at the given time, I won't be responsible for you not going back home."

Compensation for theft? The only thing you've ever stolen are your siblings' clothes. So who sent this? You take a look at the address given at the bottom. It's a five minute walk away from your apartment but there's no way in hell you're to go. It's either a prank or they got the address wrong.

-

"Ma'am, I understand your concern, but we cannot look for the sender. We do not have a history of it being posted."

You take a deep annoyed breath, obviously on the brink of yelling at the poor guy. "It was mailed to my house. As the local post office, you're responsible for mailing letters and such so you of all people should know."

"It could be that someone dropped it off there on their own. We did not post anything of the like. There are no records. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

With a fleeting glance around the busy office, you turn on your heel and walk away. It's best to go to a Fatui station to file a report. Whoever it is knows about your plans to go back home and considering that the designated meeting time is two hours away, you hurry.

Unexpectedly, you were immediately prompted to a higher ranking official as soon as you got there. You didn't have to wait for the official to come either and for some reason, you felt as though one of the recruits recognised you. The way he flinched when he saw you gave away his nervousness.

It was unsettling to say the least.

The official wasn't wearing a mask but looked like just any other Snezhnayan middle aged man. He said that he'll assign someone to walk you home and increase the security in the area while they investigate, but he also said that it might take a few days.

You didn't like how he was stuttering and kept looking behind you.

-

The recruit left as soon as you got back to your building. You sprinted up the stairs, not wanting to be out in the open, especially since it's dark now.

When you open the door and turn back to lock it, you're immediately greeted with cold air from a nearby window. It's hanging completely open and you rush to close it. After reaching the window, you see someone seated on your couch in your peripheral vision. You freeze, absolutely petrified.

"Hi."

You ran back to the door trying to unlock it but the person present in the room had beat you to it.

"Woah! It's just me."

"Childe…?"

"Mhm?"

You don't remember giving him your address. He casually leans on the wall beside the door, stealthily eyeing you up and down. You didn't take off your coat so you're glad he can't see much but you didn't miss the way his pupils dilated.

"How did you get in?"

He perks up, eyes widening a bit. "The door obviously."

"You don't have a key."

Ever so subtly, you grasp the lock a bit tighter, ready to twist it at the slightest movement from his side.

"You've known me for almost a year. I know you keep a spare with the ground floor family, so I asked them to lend it to me. You weren't home and I wanted to drop something off so…"

Trying to find any trace of a lie, you don't release your grip on the door's lock, ready to rush out. You trust him, you really do, but a man is a man and you would rather not take any risks.

"Okay… so why were you just sitting there? Scared the life out of me, jeez."

He laughs, shaking his head. "I hadn't seen you all day. Thought I'ld at least say hello."

"I saw you yesterday."

"So?"

"Don't you have a job to be doing? Go and do some town hall paperwork, collect public opinion or something. Anything that doesn't involve scaring the daylights out of me."

"Yeah yeah, work can be boring. Which reminds me, how many days to go till you leave for home?"

Heading over to the calendar on the wall, you show him how you've crossed out the days. "In less than a week. I only need to pack, a friend said she'ld take care of selling the furniture for me."

"Ah, I see."

He stays quiet, staring at you. Those dead blue irises decreased in size again as his pupils dilated. It creates a nauseating feeling in your stomach, making you feel sick. He suddenly takes a step closer to you, then another.

"Childe?"

"Have I ever told you that you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met?"

"What?"

"You're made up of all these idiosyncrasies and it's just so adorable at times that I can't stop myself."

He takes another step and slams his hands on the wall either side of your head.

"I sent you a letter but you never showed up."

"What letter?"

"Think harder. You're smart."

"You… you sent that?"

"There we go!"

With a gasp, you try ducking under his arms to get to the door but he just grabs your shoulders and slams you back onto the wall.

"We have a date to get to. I know you're late but we can still make it."

"Wha- what's gotten into you!"

"There's no need to scream. You'll disturb the neighbours."

"Let me go!"

"Yeah… no."

He grabs both of your wrists and holds them above your head. Being at the mercy of someone else is terrifying. When you feel something creeping around them, you try and pry them apart but Childe just holds them together.

"Come on. You'll ruin the fun."

"Let me go!"

"Listen. You stop screaming and writhing and I'll go easy on you."

"W-what're you going to do to me?"

"Nothing, just stay calm, okay?"

He removes one hand and brings it down to your neck. Your eyes are fixed on his face while he's staring at your collarbone, licking his lips. The hand unbuttons your coat, exposing your shirt's neckline. A finger traces a circle right under your collarbone on the visible skin.

"Now that that's there, everyone will know that you belong to the eleventh Fatui Harbinger."

Your eyes widen at his words, but before you can ask, he answers your question himself.

"Ah, I forgot I hadn't told you yet. I'm Tartaglia, number eleven of the Fatui Harbingers, also known as Childe."

"Y-you said you were a civil servant-"

"I am. A harbinger is an utmost loyal servant of the Tsarista. Same thing, no?"

Shaking your head, you couldn't help the tears that fell down your face. His grip is tight and whatever is on your hand is tighter and it's hurting. It feels cool though. Does that mean he has a vision? How come he never told you?

"Hey hey, don't cry. Here." He lets go of your wrists, bringing them to his face and kisses the knuckles. "I won't hurt you."

"Then what do you want from me?" Hiccups start leaving your throat so he pets your hair in an attempt at consolation.

"You. That's all. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart. You've stolen my heart and so, I'm going to steal yours. Just be mine and you'll know nothing but happiness."

"Let me go."

"I'm afraid I can't."

You try struggling against his grip on your wrists but it doesn't budge. "I said let me go," you seethe out in between tears.

"And I said I'm afraid I can't. I don't want to hurt you, so be a little more understanding."

With harsh movements, you try to pry him off but he slams you against the wall hard. It feels like your brain just moved inside your skull and you let out a cry, prompting Childe to kiss your forehead.

"Like I said, an eye for an eye. You behave and I won't hurt you. I wouldn't want to hurt you anyway. Come on now, let's go."

"No!"

"[Name]."

"Let me go!"

"So you want me to knock you out and kidnap you? Is that why you're being difficult?"

With a scoff, you try and wriggle your wrists out of his grip. "You're a liar. How could you-"

"How could I what? Like you? Want you? You're forgetting that you were the one who initiated this relationship. Don't you think you need to take responsibility for what you've done to me?"

"I did nothing."

He sighs loudly, pressing his forehead against your own. "Get your bag. We're leaving." With that, he lets you go. Out of instinct, you immediately run for the door but before you can even get there, everything goes dark.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #childe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x you

[thehollowwriter]

💀 🔥 and 👑 for Finn and Quinn, if that’s okay!!

That's perfectly okay! Thank you, Cyn! Vil answered here (

Edit: I forgot Quinn oops 💀

Sam is the only staff member Finn likes (he is neutral to Trein, though). Sam is not loud or obnoxious or irritating or a prick, and he's actually useful, unlike most people. He is admittedly quite curious about Sam's culture and would like to learn about it, but he doesn't know how to form such a demand.

Finn actually bought Sam's mystery drink, much to Azul's horror, and simply smiled and continued to drink it when Azul demanded a reason for his "traitorous act". He finds Azul and Sam's "rivalry" quite entertaining.

Sam is fond of Finn and can tell he's a curious little fella who wants to learn things. He's patiently waiting for Finn to ask about his culture. He can see the burning curiosity in those amtheyst eyes, after all.

Sam can see Finn's siblings, no matter the time of year, and they gave him quite a fright when Finn first walked into his store. Sam mentions his friends on the other side a number of times, and I hc he has a special connection to ghosts and spirits through his magic and can see them when others can't. Sam is, like some others, concerned about Finn because his health is visibly detoriating. Sam is quite sure it's got something to so with those ghost babies.

Ohhh boy this is gonna be a long one

Finn is either neutral to most of the student body because he doesn't know or hasn't met them, hates them because he unfortunately does know and has met them, or -rarest of all- likes them. Idia falls into the second option.

Finn has come to visit Azul during clubs a number of times and has subsequently met Idia. Finn does not like Idia.

Quiet? Shy? Bullshit, the bastard runs his mouth a mile a minute, no wonder he gets along with Azul. Fnnn does not like Idia's attitude, nor does he like Idia's personality. Idia's unwanted comments about his weight or teeth when Azul wasn't there does not help matters. Finn is always ten seconds from turning into Riddle's long-lost twin when speaking with Idia for too long.

Idia just rubs Finn the wrong way. He insists Azul should not be spending as much time with Idia as he does. He's even bringing gamer lingo home! (Finn doesn't dislike video games he just hates the way Idia talks). Finn does enjoy tormenting Idia at any opportunity he can.

Meanwhile, Idia is terrified of Finn and finds him incredibly creepy. It's like the little guy crawled out of an indie horror game, put on a uniform, and started going to school. And those paintings? It's like something out of a fucking creepypasta.

Finn's UM is also horror material, according to Idia. He even called Finn "a limited live action bodysnatcher experience," much to Finn's displeasure. He refused to allow Finn to touch him out of fear of Finn doing who knows what with his appearance and voice once he figured out how said UM works.

Finn is #1 on Idia's "NRC's Most Turbo Sus Background Character List, Source: Idia Shroud" (not to be confused with the turbo sus dorm leader and turbo sus vice dorm leader lists) since as much as a creepy sea mosnter Finn is, he's more of a side character in the general scheme of things.

Idia questions Azul's choice of partner (he saw Azul and Finn smooch once, it was disgusting) and wonders if Azul is broken somehow. Brainwashed, maybe.

Yeah, they don't like each other and avoid one another at all costs. Idia tries to find blackmail on Finn, just in case. Finn purposefully flashes his teeth and changes eye colour just to see all colour drain from Idia's face. He even spoke to Idia using Ortho's voice, though he will admit it was a low blow even if he doesn't regret it.

It's just best these two don't interact.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @oya-oya-okay @the-banana-0verlord @theleechyskrunkly @cyanide-latte @officialdaydreamer00 for Finn lore >:D Feel free to drop on an ask!

#quinn quips #quinn answers #quinn's friends #cyn #finn clearcove #octavinelle #idia shroud #ignihyde #sam #twst sam #twisted wonderland #twst oc #ask game #oc ask game

[twstwinnie]

Your writing is just soo good! The way you write the characters (especially floyd and rook). Can i ask something similar to the floyd relationship headcanons but with rook? Also, can I be 🍯 🏹 anon?

♜ With You ~ Rook Hunt

summary: in a relationship with Rook Hunt! As per usual, we have our crushing, followed by a confession, then relationship stuff and reactions!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: hi! thank you so much for your request! and ah, tysm for the compliment that’s so sweet! and absolutely! anons are free to label themselves and I’ll give you a special little tag for your requests! It’s lovely to meet you, 🍯🏹 anon! I hope you enjoy this specially curated Rook content! — winnie ♥︎

♜ starry - eyed !

» Rook, surprisingly, is the type to not truly realize how he feels about you until some time has passed. At first, he feels as if he just appreciates your beauty— as he does with Vil. That he wants to be in your presence to appreciate said beauty more often. He’s content with that excuse for a while because it makes sense. Who wouldn’t want to be around you? You were amazing— surely, this was a natural thing to feel.

» As time passes, the excuse becomes less viable. While typically, he’d be content just watching you from afar, hanging out only occasionally— he starts longing to be by your side more. He wants to hear your voice— hear you talk about your passions. He wants to divulge his own interests with you. He wants to share, with you, his private hobbies— just because he knows you won’t judge. He knows you’ll show interest because you’ve never said anything cruel or off-standing like so many others had.

» This isn’t how he feels towards Vil, he realizes. This isn’t even similar to how he feels towards people that interest him— like the Leech twins or Leona— no… what he feels for you is something he never thought he’d be able to experience. Something he once thought that someone like him was never deserving of, or was too strange to even dream of. Longing, adoration. He had a crush and you were the subject of his affections. He’s a little hesitant at first— would this end like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy? Would he really get the romantic ending he was hoping for?

» Rook was fully aware of how others felt about him. “Creepy,” “Stalkerish,” and “Weird” were all words he heard to describe him, whether directly or when they figured he couldn’t hear. In the face of such unsavory rumors, would you truly ever view someone like him as a romantic prospect? Was liking you worth potential heartbreak? Would it not be safer to just admire your beauty from afar like an untouchable jewel? Away at a safe distance?

» But he can’t. Because when that thought sneaks up on him, you smile at him warmly. You insist that the rumors mean nothing to you. It brings him back to the many times you’ve watched him draw a bow with absolute awe, asking him to teach you the moment his arrow hit his target. He remembers the time he revealed his photo album to you, and instead of judgement, you smiled and complimented his photography skills, asking him to teach you. He quickly realizes that you’ve had plenty of opportunities to reprimand him for his hobbies but you never did. Instead, you wanted to take part— to understand him. It was a sentiment that truly touched his heart.

» Everyone else he’d met had been so quick to judge him. They saw his title as a hunter as an excuse to be strange— saw his demeanor as startling and irritating. They automatically assumed that his appreciation for beauty was shallow at best and just another flimsy cover. But you… you never thought that. You ignored the biased, cautionary comments and in him you found a truly good person. You saw Rook’s true colors and showed him warmth and openness in return. You never showed him unfair judgment based on surface level assumptions. You’d taken the time to get to know him— to appreciate him.

» It shouldn’t have been surprising to Rook that he developed an undying adoration for you. After all, he’d opened up to you in a way that he had for no one else before. You learned things about him that he’d never told anyone else before and you always responded so enthusiastically. Of course he’d come to enjoy your company more than anyone else’s. He could just be himself around you. He didn’t have to always be the unbothered, flamboyant hunter with you. He could admit that hearing such ugly things about himself got to him. He could admit such things knowing that you’d show genuine understanding. You’d always reassure his worries and it warmed his heart.

» But Rook was observant… he knew that with how kind you were, it was impossible that he was the only one who was fond of you. Could he truly size up to any possible competitor? Sure, Rook appreciated beauty but sometimes he… struggled to find that beauty within himself. Would he be enough to charm and enchant you? Could he sweep you off your feet and cherish you in the way a gem like you deserved? He wasn’t quite certain.

» With how observant he was, he couldn’t get a read on how you felt about him. He’d overheard conversations where you’d mentioned him and it’d been nothing but praise and approval— but nothing that signified a romantic interest. The uncertainty of it all only made him more weary. It had even seeped into his day to day routine! He wanted to handle it swiftly lest he develop bags beneath his eyes.

» But he couldn’t find a solution. He was in his club, idly staring into the concoction in his cauldron, entirely spaced off, deep in thought about you as per usual. He softly sighed and soon enough, Trey walked up beside him and cleared his throat.

» “That’s the third sigh in ten minutes. Mind if I ask what’s wrong?” He pushed his glasses back up his face. Rook snapped out of his thoughts and gave a bright smile before his expression fell just a hair.

» “Ah, merci, Chevalier des Roses. I’m sorry that my stupor has distracted you, but I could appreciate some sound advice. For a while, I’ve found myself entirely smitten with someone, but I fear I’m not enough to become the one they can rely on. I want to be with them, but I find myself hesitating as I am unable to get a read on them despite my status as a hunter.” Rook explained with an exasperated sigh before looking back to the other. Trey gave a sympathetic smile before humming a bit.

» “Well, if I’m being honest, I don’t think you can make that decision for them. And if I’m correct on my observations, I know exactly who you’re talking about. They’re the only one who can truly decide whether you’re enough for them or not. So, you shouldn’t let it stop you. Tell them. You might find yourself surprised, you know.” Trey explained with a small, knowing smile. Rook’s curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t pry, instead taking the advice to heart.

» Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, no? You’d always called him beautiful, so who was Rook, as le chasseur d’amour, to deny you the ability to make your own judgment? He owed it to you, yes? You never made unfair judgements of him, so who was he to assume what you would want in a partner? He had to tell you, to let his feelings be known to allow you to make your own decision.

» Besides, perhaps Trey was right. Maybe he’d be surprised. Maybe there was something he couldn’t see that others did? Either way, he snapped out of his thoughts with a renewed determination.

» He’d tell you how he felt with beautiful words of his own. And perhaps if he was lucky, you’d be able to see him in a romantic light. Maybe you’d see the beauty in him that he saw in so many others. Maybe— just maybe— you’d decide he was the one you could rely on as a partner.

» Only time could tell, and it was ticking away! He had a plan to make.

♜ say the words !

» Rook wants to be honest about the emotions he feels for you. He wants to be able to have that conversation because there’s a certain beauty to the pure love and adoration he feels towards you. Scripting his confession would be abhorrent! Though, setting the stage on the other hand, that’s incredibly important— an absolute must! If the stage isn’t set to be an absolutely beautiful setting for his confession, that’d be unheard of! You deserved the absolute best and he planned to give it to you.

» As much as he wanted to do something showy and flashy in public, he was observant enough to realize that you’d likely want it to be a private affair. Besides, he doesn’t want to pressure you by putting you in the public eye for something so intimate and vulnerable. Rook didn’t think he wanted to show that side of himself to others, either. Eventually, he sought out Trey for assistance once more. He seemed to be knowledgeable and insightful enough, and right he was.

» Trey recommended a dinner in the botanical gardens. Magnifique! Simple, yet touching! How had he not thought of it himself? Plus, the gardens were gorgeous at night time— and they were secluded enough where he’d be able to enjoy the privacy with you. It also helped that in such an enclosed space, as a hunter, he’d be privy to any potential watchers. He’d make sure it stayed between you and him alone. He didn’t want an audience.

» With a plan set, he began to prepare. Admittedly. It was quite obvious to Vil what was going on. Rook had a bit more pep in his step and was genuinely smiling a lot more than usual. Instead of smiling out of obligation or smiling “just because,” there seemed to actually be a reason. It was only natural after spending so much time together that Vil would take notice and comment on it.

» “I must say, Rook. You’ve been glowing recently and I know it isn’t due to any magic of mine. What has you expressing yourself so radiantly as of late?” Vil questioned and Rook couldn’t help but smile in response, his thoughts immediately flying him you.

» “Ah, Roi du Poison. I’ve just finally decided to take action regarding something. This radiance… it’s a product of romance. I’m finally sharing that with someone I hold dear to me, and I’m simply looking forward to it.” Rook explained, a soft expression flashing across his face at the thought. Vil hummed in thought.

» “Love, hm? It suits you well. I wish you the best of luck in your pursuit. There’s a unique beauty to it all that I’m sure you’ll find yourself pleased with.” Vil expressed with a rare, kind smile. Rook felt his heart skip a beat. To think that even someone as critical as Vil gave his approval? He must’ve been taking the right path— doing the right thing.

» Rook had more confidence going into the confession after his brief encounter with Vil, plus added encouragement from Trey (who seemed to know a lot more than he let on… always the quietly observant that Rook had to watch out for). When it came time to invite you out to dinner, he kept most of it a secret from you. It was a nice surprise, given that he seldom kept secrets from you these days, but he truly wanted the experience to be breathtaking. He wanted to blow you away.

» So he just vaguely invited you out, insisting that he’d pick you up and take you to your destination himself. You’d gotten ready and as promised, Rook escorted you to the botanical gardens, having you keep your eyes closer to increase the suspense. When you arrived and open your eyes, you were absolutely taken with the sight before you.

» He had prepared a small table with your favorite foods and desserts, as well as a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The gardens were decorated with soft fairy lights, candles and embellishments that painted such a gorgeous picture. In your awestruck state, he led you to your seat, pulling out your seat for you in traditional Pomefiore mannerisms. Once you were settled, you both ate, having joyous conversation over the meal.

» Rook’s nervousness built up, though. He couldn’t help but think back to the countless comments from his peers. He was a stalker, a creep— could he truly make you happy? He needed only to glance at your expression to quell his fear, though. The genuine smile you wore spoke volumes. He could make you this happy. You adored him for who he was— so he should trust that you’ll make the decision that’ll make you happy. And that’s all he wants.

» He takes your hand in his, kissing your hand gently before looking at you.

» “Mon ange, I must admit… I had some underlying motives in inviting you out and creating such a beautiful display. For a while now, I’ve found myself smitten with you. I’ve always been taken by your beauty… but your kindness, honesty. Your understanding… it’s made me feel a deep adoration for you. You see beauty in me that others do not. I wanted to finally expose these pure feelings of mine to ask— will you be mine?” Rook questioned, allowing the question to hang heavy in the air. Your eyes widened at such a genuine confession and Rook could hear the way your heartbeat picked up in pace.

» Patiently, he waited for you to find the proper words, a little nervous for the response, but eventually you laughed and smiled brightly, hugging him tightly before pulling back to cup his face in your hands. You looked at him with a fond, adoring expression that left him speechless. But then your words…

» “Oh of course I’ll be yours. You’ve absolutely enchanted me, Rook. You’ve positively stolen my heart— I’m so happy you asked.” You chimed and he laughed joyously, leaning his head against yours as he enjoyed the closeness.

» The feelings blooming between you both created a comfortable, warm atmosphere that Rook had never experienced. Hearing such fond things that he once only dreamed to hear from you— it was surreal. And Rook thought that Vil was right.

» The beauty of requited, pure love was unique indeed. Something that he had never experienced before— but was elated to share with someone as angelic as you.

♜ at last , with you !

» Once he is finally with you, Rook finds it far easier to deflect the comments of his peers. After all, he knows you don’t care for such nasty rumors and your opinion is the one he values most. You always reassure him that the comments are absolute nonsense. You love him, adore his hobbies and interests, and would never view him in such a negative light. He trusts you over them since you know of his true nature— and despite knowing his true self, you still chose him over so many others. It gave him comfort— confidence. But you always seem to have that profound effect on him. And he adores it.

» You’re both quite good at keeping your relationship private for a while. Rook is able to brush off his touchiness and kisses to your cheek as his normal, forward demeanor. No one bats an eye, however, when people start asking why you hang around him so much, you take personal offense and expose the truth. How dare they assume that it isn’t entirely mutual? You adore Rook just as much and you tell them such.

» Of course, rumors fly. People insist that the hunter must have something on you— that there must be some underlying scheme at play. Rook doesn’t even have to defend himself because you’re quick to retaliate— to insist that it isn’t strange in the slightest. Rook is beautiful, kind, reliable and incredibly thoughtful. He sees beauty in everyone when they don’t even try to do the same for him. It’s only natural that’d you’d fall for his charming nature.

» Luckily, you have plenty of supporters. Vil was the first to learn before anyone else. After all, Rook knew he couldn’t keep it from his dorm leader, so he just told him. And Vil responded with a kind smile, insisting that you two were a beautiful pair. Honestly, Vil was just happy that his vice had found someone so kind and caring. Vil was never able to get Rook to open up as a friend, at least, not about his more unsavory feelings. So he was happy to see that the hunter had found you. You were compassionate, and you never judged Rook by his cover like many others did. Vil appreciated it and knew he wouldn’t have to worry. You both complimented one another perfectly, and grew radiant in each other’s presence. Truthfully, Vil saw it as ridiculous that many strangers found your coupling to be unlikely. Did they not see the way you both looked at each other? It was pure, mutual fondness and adoration. They were a bunch of rank amateurs if they couldn’t see that.

» Following Vil, Trey soon found out as well. He wasn’t shocked in the slightest and Rook soon learned that it was because you had confided in Trey about your own feelings towards Rook. Things suddenly clicked for him— no wonder Trey had been so encouraging. He had the entire truth the whole time. Trey laughed, apologized from keeping it from both you and Rook, but he never needed to say sorry, Rook thought. It worked out and the result was everything he wanted and more. Trey knew it would work out and he’s not incredibly romantic, but he does think that if true love exists like in the fairy tales, then you two are the picture book definition of it. Plucked straight from a children’s book… the love between you both was clear as day. He knew you both would be able to face whatever obstacle came your way. He was happy it had worked out.

» Rook is grateful that his friends are so supportive— and that yours are as well. Though, how could they not be? Rook greeted you every day with compliments, a kiss on the hand and a look that expressed his pure devotion. He often got you flowers, wrote you poems, made you small treats— he’s gotten you various gifts, as well. Some pertain to your own hobbies, but he even got you your own bow and arrow so he could make a date out of teaching you archery. He kept you smiling— kept you happy. It’d be a crime for any of your friends to disapprove.

» Rook loves spending time with you, so dates are frequent— specified days of the week are date nights, and making it a regular part of your schedule is a must. Some days, Rook takes part in your hobbies, other days, you take part in his. He begins to teach you archery, gives you pointers on hunting— but both of your favorites is when he takes you out to enjoy theatre performances with him.

» His eyes light up as he rambles before the show. During the show, he’s absolutely taken by the sight and you find yourself splitting your attention between enjoying the performance and watching your awestruck hunter with a smile. Then, after the performance, he gives you his feedback, asks for yours, and engaging conversation ensues. Performance nights always end with you spending the night with Rook because you both just… never want the conversation to end. In all honesty, you never do on any date night, but that feeling is especially prominent when you get to see that excited, rambling side of Rook that he rarely shows others.

» So you spend the night by his side. He talks to you about various shows that you could watch next time— all whilst you lean against him, happy to just listen to him talk about his passion. Rook is always incredibly appreciative that you let him rant and ramble— it’s rare that he gets the opportunity, even more so that someone shows genuine interest like you do. It only makes him adore you more, if that’s even possible.

» Of course, with all of the fun comes the less desirable topics. Namely, Rook discloses how big a fan of Neige LeBlanche he is. At first, you don’t think it’s a big deal, but are quick to realize that his status with Vil essentially makes it a betrayal of sorts. He expresses that it’s conflicting to be a genuine fan of them both— that it’s hard. You reassure him as you always do. You tell him that he’s an appreciator of beauty— he cannot be asked to pretend not to find something beautiful for someone else’s sake. But you understand that he doesn’t want to anger Vil and offer him a space to talk about any of his interests with you. Any of them includes things like being in Eternal Snow. That sort of thing doesn’t phase you anyhow. It never has.

» Rook smiles and thanks you, happy to have someone else to share his interests with. It only proves why he chose you in the first place— you were always so understanding of him. In the face of his fears and insecurity, you never once bat an eye. You never hesitated to assure him— to insist that he was loved. He’s never once felt shame, abhorrence, or upset about who he was when with you. He’s able to push other people’s judgments aside because you love him. You see his kindness, his vulnerability— and love him truly for it.

» In you, Rook finds someone he’s finally comfortable sharing his life with. He finds someone who’ll support him unconditionally despite what others may view as “strange.” He doesn’t have to worry about you prying if he doesn’t want you to because you’d never cross any boundaries with him. You’re just… incredibly respectful and loving towards him in a way that he’d never experienced before. It’s warm, happy, and he must say, it makes him shine brighter than ever before.

» As an appreciator of beauty, he’s able to find it in even the most imperfect of situations. You helped him find beauty in himself. Perhaps it’s a little biased to say, but Rook thinks that the beauty you hold is his absolute favorite.

» Pure, undying love and affection. Coming from one of the kindest, most genuine people he knows. Really, does it get any more beautiful than that?

— fin.

#twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst rook #twst rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt headcanons #winnie-writes #winnie-wishes #wishes-from-🍯🏹

[xxwithlovefromfaexx]

@stnaf-vn​ this is part one of my submission for the STNAF: Fanfic contest! I haven’t been writing as regularly as I’d like, so it’s been nice to get into some writing.

Warnings: dead dove, DO NOT EAT, touch starved/touch averse reader, unwanted filming swearing, stalking (cameras), voyeurism is hinted, just Friend ruining a good night by being creepy as hell jaskdbkfb

Notes: I do have a nsfw addition to this, which was what I was originally going to post. But since I’m uncomfortable posting it on tumblr, if you want to read the prt. 2 please message me first! That way I can check your bio before sending the google docs file :)

It had been a while since you indulged yourself in someone else's touch. Not even in a sexual light.

To say you were touch averse, it sounded like the right term. So long without brushing your hand against another's, the days of hugging Friend at the playground were long gone. Perhaps, after your last relationship, you had sealed the deal for yourself.

Reaching out for touch became too awkward, too uncomfortable. The very hairs on the back of your head stood up and trickled an anxious dread down your spine as someone pulled you in for a hug. Even accidental brushes piqued your heartbeat as you apologized profusely, eyes darting for an exit.

And yet, you could feel yourself becoming more and more desperate for it. Ironic, how the one thing you craved more than anything was also the one thing you couldn't stand to bare. You'd cling to your only pillow at night, because it was really the only thing left that kept the pangs of emptiness away. How sad, that you had resorted to living quite like this. If Friend saw you like this...Would he?

No, no...you couldn't put any more of your burdens on Friend. He already does so much for you. It was almost uncomfortable, the lengths he'd go to just to make sure you were happy. If you asked him to hug, to cuddle you...he wouldn't say no, would he? But...you weren't sure you were quite ready for it just yet.

That's why you were here today, with Friend, in the plushie aisle. He seemed upset that you'd buy a plushie rather than let him make one for you, but...walking into a store and buying a life-sized pillow is making your cheeks flush and your head hurt enough. He just had to insist on coming today, the day you'd been working up to, didn't he? 

A mall trip. Just like you used to do, with you dragging a belligerent Friend with you as you watched movies and window shopped until your feet hurt.

“You know, I could make you one of these for free right?” You turned to Friend with a frown.

“I know, but...you already do so much for me. Hell, I have a tone of your plushies all stacked up in my room as is,” not to mention the way they all stared at you...it was kinda creepy, staring into their dark, looming eyes. Like looking into the other side of a camera. You wanted a normal, regular pillow. One that didn't feel like it was eating you with its eyes.

“They aren't even made of good quality material. And for this price? I can make a life sized you for cheaper,” He tutted, gently brushing your hand away from the price tag that you were eyeing up skeptically. You jumped at the contact, retracting your hand quickly as your eyes darted to his in shock before looking away quickly. He pulled his hand back sheepishly, but you couldn't help but notice the hurt that flashed in his eyes.

“Sorry, Friend,” you apologised quickly, looking away. That was uncalled for. And to Friend, of all people! You couldn't help but feel ashamed of just how disgusted you'd become-it was really only an innocent, accidental touch after all. This stuff should be the things that have you blushing over contact, not running for the hills! If you could just...feel okay about it, maybe the contact you so desperately craved wouldn't be so hard to obtain.

Of course, Friend wasn't hearing it.

“Hey, how many times have I told you, don't apologize like that. It was an accident, right? I'll try to be more careful next time,” He gave you a reassuring smile, yet...you couldn't help but remember the hurt in his eyes. Urghhh...maybe you were being stupid, trying to save him the trouble and buying it yourself. You knew you couldn't really afford it; the money you'd been saving up for this could easily be used on more food for the week, or your utilities bill...

“It's fine, Friend. I'm just, not used to that kind of stuff,” It was your turn to be sheepish. He just stood, with his hands crossed. He obviously wasn't budging on this one. Changing the subject before he could pressure you for answers, you tilted your head and rested your index finger on your chin.

“So, say you really wanted to make up for it...you said you could make one life sized plushie for your bestest friend in the whole world, right?” From your peripheral, you could see his steely resolve crack just a little, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“Yeah...?” You turned your gaze to him and gave him a sweet little smile.

“And you know I'll be forever grateful to my bestest friend in the whole wide world if you made it for me, right?” You couldn't contain your grin as the cracks went deeper, and he seemed to think it over for a while.

“Hmmm...forever grateful you say?” He pondered it. His face was sporting a joking grin for you, but his eyes, they held a red glint to them you'd barely seen before, in all the time you've known Friend. You couldn't help but feel unsettled; though you’re sure the most he's capable of is teasing you to absolute abandon at your statement and dragging you to get some of that “death by chocolate” drink he loved so much.

God, what had you gotten yourself into? You just smiled back at him, putting the groan you had on hold. Those drinks gave you a serious stomachache. But even as you are when buying coffee together, you weren't going to let him see you back down. No matter the fate you've just damned yourself to.

“Forever and always, love,” He always throws those sweet nicknames at you. Why not send them back?

That worked. A little too well, judging by the blush he was now sporting. Were those...heart eyes?

“Well, how can a guy like me deny that? I'll make sure to cash in on that gratitude, don't you worry,” You broke your facade to deadpan at the way he so merrily sing-songed that last part of his concession.

“Don't make me think I've made a mistake here, Friend” he just smiled at you and gestured to the stores exit, and you followed him out.

“Don't you worry. I'll be sure to make it something we both enjoy,” He replied with a chuckle to himself. You raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Your eyes had met something you couldn't tear yourself away from, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh, I know exactly where we're going next,” He turned to look at where you were glancing and groaned.

“A haunted house, really? How great can it be if its shoved into the mall complex here?” You rolled your eyes at Friend's unimpressed stare.

“Come onn, you used to love this stuff! First one to yelp has to buy the other lunch?” He sighed but turned to the haunted house.

“Alright, alright...weren't you the one screaming for me over some stupid actor in a ghoul costume last time?” You glared at him, hurrying to catch up to his strides.

“Hey, no fair! That was genuinely scary!”

---------

When Friend came and dropped off your newest addition to the collection, you couldn't help but jump straight onto the couch, hugging it close. He said he was busy with some orders, so he could only really stay for dinner and then he'd have to go. You couldn't help it; your heart ached at the thought of him leaving so soon.

But you had fun, at least. It was nice to spend time with him, even if it was just to veg out on the couch and eat takeout pizza while you watched your favourite show. You just wish time could go a little slower. If only you could muster up the courage to ask Friend for a cuddle, or at least to feign sleepiness and doze off on his shoulder.

Alas, it was time for Friend to go. You waved him goodbye with a wry smile.

“Don't be a stranger,” You bid him. He raised an eyebrow at your comment, and you could see a cheeky grin forming at your words.

“When am I ever? You wound me,” You deadpan at him as he clutches his heart dramatically.

“Serves you right for holding my remote-control hostage,” You huffed, and he smirked.

“It's not my fault you have terrible taste in TV shows, sweetheart,” You groaned. God, how you regret ever feeling soft for this smug idiot.

“Hey, it's a good show!” He nods his head slowly.

“Uh-huh, yep. What was it called again?” Oh, that's it.

“Good night!” You slammed the door in his face. Heh. That'll show him.

You walked back to the living room, packing away the empty pizza boxes and turning the TV off. You didn't feel like watching anymore Unsettled Mysteries. As soon as you came back into the living room, it left as it something was missing.

You were alone, again.

You wish you could've told Friend to stay, if even for just a little longer. But you didn't want to bother him anymore than you already had. You looked over to the plushie, that sat in the middle of the couch. He'd been slaving over that thing for the past few days. You wondered how he even managed to get any sleep in, carefully sewing and stuffing it together in all that time. Geez, he really was a good friend.

And you'd just slammed your door straight into his face. Shit.

Sighing dramatically, you plopped down and pulled the oversized plushie into your lap. Seriously, this thing was huge. How the hell did he make it so perfect, and fluffy, and big? You pulled out your phone.

Hey, thanks for tonight. And the plushie. It's exactly what I wanted.

You sent the text, hesitantly hovering over your next words.

I hope we can hang out again soon.

No, that just sounded desperate. You only just hung out. And you've been hanging out constantly, to the point that Friend is missing his order deadlines.

Hope the customers aren't too mad with the order delays. godspeed, Friend.

You sent a cute little sticker and threw your phone to the other side of the couch, groaning as you pushed your head into the plushie. After smooshing your face into the plushie and wrapping yourself around the huge thing, you figured it'd be more comfortable in your bed. At least then you could sleep away all your problems with your newest addition to the collection.

Grabbing your phone, you walked into the bedroom and balanced the plushie and your phone in one hand to turn on the light with the other. Your phone buzzed as a message from Friend popped up. Walking to the bed, you sat down and hugged the plushie tight, opening the message.

You sound so formal, I'm not your mum lol.

That asshole-! Another message popped up, before you could take your words back.

No need to thank me, really.

You rolled your eyes. Now who's the one being formal?

You know I'll be there whenever you need me.

You dwelled over that last text, staring at the phone. Maybe you could just ask him to be on call with you while you cuddled your plushie, right? It wouldn't be that bad, and he could still get his orders done...he didn't need to know you'd be in your head, imagining him in your arms instead of another one of his cuddly creations.

The vibration of your phone jumped you out of your thoughts.

Sweet dreams, sweetheart <3

How did he know...? Ugh, never mind. You sent him a heart back, that's all he gets for such a cheesy exit line. Dropping your phone by the other side of the bed, you rolled over to your side. Your newest plushie, Friend 2.0 (you'd decided), squished even closer to your side.

You found yourself staring deep into those doll eyes. You could never tell Friend, but it had always unsettled you, the eery stare his plushies gave you as you went about your day, It felt like, like they were...watching you. It sounded stupid. So, so stupid. But the more you gazed into its eyes, the harder you looked...

The eyes were dark, black, just like any other teddy bear eyes. Only, the pupils on this one looked strikingly familiar, right in the middle. Maybe that was a trademark of Friend's creations? You'd always been too creeped out to look closely at the plushies. No, these ones looked a little different. They were reflecting you. And if you peered closely, you could see through the dark iris and in the middle, there, right where the pupil should be there was a...lens?

Was that really a lens?

No, no, it couldn't be.

You reached for your phone, frantically flipping it over to inspect the camera lens of your phone.

Then you looked to the plushies eyes, staring right back at you.

Then back to the phone.

They were almost...identical.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck, no, no, no.

Your stomach fell to your feet. You felt like puking.

Or maybe, you felt like running out of the bedroom and out of your apartment and out of your town.

Maybe it was Friend's supplier? Maybe Friend simply didn't know?

But Friend made these, just for you. He'd sewn each of these eyes in with loving care. He did with all of the plushies he gave you, just like he’d remind you.

Sewing each, and every hidden camera into the plushies, your plushies, each with loving care.

#STNAF #OOOH this one took me on a ride #I looovee writing yanderes but ooh it takes a hot minute #I'm really happy with how this turned out though! #This old blog of mine was hitting the dust #literally #I haven't used it since I was like 15 yeesh #STNAF Friend #friend stnaf #stnafgame #I feel like this is kinda ooc for Friend #his cameras are fbi level hidden #only the best for his sweetheart <3 #STNAF fanfic contest

[axel-skz]

My perspective is broadening

A/N: so, I told my sister about some of this and now I’m scared it’s terrible :D if it is, don’t tell me! Now, the song we got for this fic is Scars.

You were someone who rarely trusted anyone. The friends you had were people you had found after a long time of being cautious. You had a lot happen in your past and you were ok with not making more friends.

This didn’t sit right with your family though because how would you find yourself a boyfriend this way?

So now, for months, you had been going on these random dates with many different people. It made your head spin. You said you didn’t want to but your parents would not stop setting them up.

You respected your parents but they never realised how gross and misogynistic most these people were. You had a hard time with people anyway and this was not helping you at all.

It took a while but after 3 months of constant annoyance, you went to your parents to finally put an end to it. They said they wanted you to go on one last date. You guys made the deal and you were relieved that this would be the last bit of torture.

Today was the day and you were looking forward to it being over. When you got to the restaurant, the guy was already there. At the table you guys had agreed to.

…You have got to be kidding me… He’s like a million years older then me…

You went over and politely introduced yourself and sat down. He looked extremely confused to see you and you explained that you were his blind date.

He proceeded to explain to you that he was here for a business lunch.

You were horrified :D

You apologised profusely before getting up and walking over to the restaurant bar and taking a seat. You called your date and the person didn’t pick up or reply to your texts.

You ordered a drink and sat there, miserable and embarrassed.

‘You okay?’

You jumped a little as someone tapped your shoulder. You looked up in confusion and saw a random, very handsome, man.

‘Um, yeah, sure…’ you sighed.

‘That sounded so convincing! I totally believe you,’ he smiled sympathetically as he sat down next to you.

You laughed, ‘I’m sorry, give me 5 minutes and I’ll try again.’

‘With that frown, you’re probably gonna need 10,’ he teased.

‘I’ll have you know, I’m usually very convincing,’ you turned when your drink was placed in front of you.

‘Oh well, my bad for approaching you when you’re so distraught.’

You laughed a little and looked down at your drink after you took a sip.

‘So, what are you doing here then?’

‘I hang around the plants till I see beautiful women at the bar.’

You looked at him with concern, ‘that’s… good for you?’

He laughed, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It sounded so much more creepy out loud then it did in my head. I also got stood up so I’m here.’

Also got stood up? But you hadn’t mentioned you had been… maybe you did and you were just very distracted…

You guys continued to talk and he was quite funny. You hit it off and planned another date.

He introduced himself as Jeongin, you called him joe and he judged you. It was a great start to your… situation.

He felt like a breath of fresh air to be around. He made you smile and always looked after you. Always listened and remembered the little things you said. Not to mention how much you loved just sitting and watching him concentrate on something he liked. He would be in the zone and his face would be all serious and that one stray hair would be annoying him and you could watch him all day. Something about him lured you in.

You hadn’t felt this way for a long time and you got so caught up in it. You spent months with each other, his friends absolutely adored you too.

You spent so much time doing the most random activities with them. You guys had gone to laser tag and you found that Seungmin and Minho were your best teammates. You loved gaming with Felix. He helped you with your Genshin account. It was especially sweet when he only laughed a tiny bit at your ultimate lack of knowledge in the game.

It was amazing. But there has to be a storm at some point. It’s only natural.

There came a day where he didn’t answer your texts, which hadn’t happened before and that’s when reality set in. You realised how attached you were getting to him. You hadn’t stopped to think about it and now you felt like the fun rollercoaster you had been enjoying, was dropping you off and leaving you behind.

You were overthinking and freaking yourself out and it resulted in you pulling away. You stopped visiting everyday and planning things to do. You weren’t replying to any of their texts nearly as much as you did.

Jeongin had seen enough and he was now fed up. He made his way to you one night when you cancelled plans. It was the last straw for him. You were getting ready to have a comfy night on your sofa with a tub of ice cream and some old movies when you heard the banging on your door.

You opened it with a blanket wrapped around you and a very confused look on your face. Even more confused when a very out of breath I.n stood there looking at you.

‘Hey, did you run here or something? Are you ok? Do you-‘

‘Do you hate me now?’

‘What?’

‘Am I not good enough? Did I do something to upset you?’

‘Are you-’

‘No, seriously! If I did something to make you feel any hurt or sadness, I’m sorry! Just tell me!’ He looked tired as he looked you in the eyes.

‘Are you… I don’t… you didn’t do anything…’

‘Then why on earth are you icing me out?’

You were unsure of what to say as you looked off to avoid his eye line.

‘Look, I wasn’t going to say anything. I was going to let it come up naturally but I like you. A lot. I care about you more then I have cared for anyone else in a while.’

You looked back at him, at a loss for words.

‘I can feel that you like me too. I know you do and I’m putting it all out there by doing this. I’m terrified but… I want to be terrified and at least have given it a shot…’

You stood there and contemplated what to do for a moment that felt like an eternity for him. You could see him about to pull away and the disappointment, edging onto his face. You panicked, you didn’t want him to leave and you had to face how important he was to you.

You grabbed his arm, pulled him down a little and kissed him. It only lasted a moment before you pulled away. You were also terrified but then he kissed you. It was amazing.

There was a very serious conversation that followed that but you guys were together. You loved him. So much. He had become such an important part of your life.

You spent the next few months in the most comfortable, happy bubble. Anytime you had a problem, he would be there for you. You guys worked through it together. Relationships scared the hell out of you, you had also been so scared that you would never have a healthy relationship but it was so easy with him.

Tonight, you had a dinner with your parents. He had met them before and everyone hit it off. You both got there on time and everyone was sat for dinner. Your mum had gone to go get dessert from the kitchen and your dad left a little while later to go see what was taking her so long.

You got up because this was your chance to use the bathroom. You kissed Innie as you went passed him. On your way up to the bathroom, you heard your parents speaking and they mentioned Jeongin.

You shouldn’t but your dad speaks like he has a megaphone, even when he whispers. You listened to what they were saying. It started with your dad saying he was just so happy that you were happy.

But then he praised your mother on how smart she is. The plan she came up with was genius. The fact that you wouldn’t have liked anyone they picked so they made it seem like I.n was your choice. Exquisite.

You felt sick.

Manipulated.

You went back to the table and started to pick all your belongings up. You told Jeongin to pick up all his stuff, you weren’t feeling well so he would come back to your apartment with you. You guys said goodbye to your parents in a hurry and left.

The car felt too full. Too hot but too cold. The air was stuffy. Your heart was beating out of its chest. You couldn’t stop picking at your finger nails.

There was a tension in the air and he kept looking at you whenever he had the chance.

When you got inside your apartment, he came in straight after you. Plagued with worry.

The rage slowly rose from your stomach to your throat as tears filled your eyes. The anger and frustration were like stepping stones for the helplessness to get closer and closer.

He was the last person you expected to lie to you.

He came and tried to rub your back and comfort you but him being close to you only hurt you more.

You stumbled away, ‘you liar!’

He looked hurt and confused, ‘what are you talking about?’

‘How we met… tell me you didn’t know me before we met that day…’ you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. He was a blurry image but still, you could clearly see the emotions change on his face.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I know you lied… I know my parents sent you… that day…’

He looked panicked, ‘look, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do it like that. But they said you wouldn’t give someone a chance if he came from them… they told me about you and you sounded so amazing…’

‘…no… You need to leave… I can’t be here-you can’t be here with me…’ you faced away from him as you tried to hold yourself together, if only for a moment. You couldn’t look at him.

‘Look, I know that wasn’t a good way for us to find each other but the most important thing is that we did!’

‘I can’t look at you right now… Trust is something so incredibly important to me… I’m gonna need time to get through this… I care for you… so much…’ you were crying again, ‘but all I see now is that you lied… god knows how much you already knew about me before we actually talked about it…’

‘I love-‘

‘DON’T! ITS BEEN MONTHS! YOU HAD EVERY CHANCE TO TELL ME!’ You took a moment to breathe and calm yourself down, ‘just leave. I need time. I don’t want to yell at you… please just go…’

You’re both heartbroken but he knows you need time.

‘I’m not leaving without saying I love you… I really do…’ and with that, he’s gone.

Repost and stuff *too lost in staring at him*

Jeongin: I think I can safely say I’m her favourite.

Minho: she’s irrelevant anyway *walks away*

I glare at him: I didn’t like you either!

Changbin: wow… always hostile… but like, I’m actually your favourite right?

Han: as if! She got me when she did that one quiz.

Hyunjin: look, she knows who the best is. *he points at himself*

Jeongin: yeah, me. *stealing the spotlight*

They all argue while Seungmin walks over to me: can you believe them?

I smile at him: I can never just have a script end in peace.

Seungmin: no, there was that one with Lix.

Ooo there was. *we turn and watch them all argue. Chan and Felix trying to stop it but being unable to with Changbin being too loud for them both.*

Me and Seungmin both look at you: who’s your bias?

(All jokes aside, I love them all! Even my angsty version of Minho 😂)

#stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz x reader #love stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #i.n imagine #i.n x reader #skz jeongin #stray kids jeongin #jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin x y/n #jeongin x reader #jeongin angst #jeongin fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids world domination #skz world domination #stray kids x reader #stray kids yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x you #angst #fluff

[hoodievixen]

With My Own Eyes - Part 8 (Dream of the Endless x OC)

Based off of this

Summary: Morpheus just wanted to keep his soulmate safe. She just wanted to make her own decisions. Doesn't help that he doesn't show her his face.

Words Count: ~ 2.7 K

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, witchcraft, bad grammar and even worse spelling, !Comic Spoilers!

A/N:   This is it, the end. (Almost forgot to upload it today... oops) Prepare for some angst.

Tag List:   @intothesoul @  poemfreak306  ​

Master List

Her bed was too soft. Instead she clambered to the ground, curling herself into a ball, backed into a corner, walls pressing into both her shoulders. Sibyl mumbled descriptors of everything she saw, ignoring the tears running down her face. She should lose herself to her emotions, she might start another fire. She didn't need to deal with that at the moment.

Even her tactic of keeping in the physical and not the mental was not working. As she was describing any item she saw in great detail, more items appeared. She swear they came in puffs of sand. The first was her bag she had left in her room in the Dreaming, then the paintings she made in the Dreaming, and every sketchbook she dared scribble in. Even notes of grimores she left in the library. Anything that could remind him of her he sent away.

Soon Lily was clenched into as small of a ball that she could get. Her breathing out of control, as the only thing she felt was lonelyness, complete and utter lonelyness.

----

Johanna wasn't sure what she was expecting for the loud banging at her door in the middle of the day. Defiently not Lily, drunk off her ass and crying. "You do know it's only three," Johanna commented, letting the closest thing to a friend she had lean into her.

It wasn't strange for Lily to disappear for days on end without so much of a word. However returning drunk was indeed new. "Heart break knows no time but sorrow," the witch sighed.

Johanna hated how she'd get poetic when drunk. Luckily Lily rarely gets drunk. "Did you get back tk get her with Jerome?" she wondered dragging in the drunkard. "You know that never ends well."

With uneven balance Lily stood up straight staring at her arm. Rarely did Lily walk around with her arms bare. Johanna knew Lily got annoyed with how people would come and touch her cause of her tattoos, but also that she was hiding her soulmate's name, something the magic user hasn't even seen, until then.

Johanna felt pitty for her friend. There scralled on her arm in pretentious writing was Dream of the Endless. She felt bad for Lily, connected to that prik by date. Clearly she didn't have good feeling a about it either, as the skin it was on was red and irritated with small scabs developing. Lily had been vigorously scratching at it, as if to remove it. Even in that moment she dug her nails in the raw skin.

"I'm guessing that prick's the reason your like this," Johanna commented, bringing in the witch to have her sit on her couch.

Lily glared at her arm. "I don't even know what he looks like," she said softly.

Johanna sat down, letting her sad friend lay down in her lap. "You aren't missing much," she commented, picking at Lily's hair. By the looks of it it hadn't been washed in days. "His hair's a mess, eyes are creepy, and personally his cheeks are bit too sharp for my taste."

Lily looked up to her friend, wide eyed and with fresh tears. "You know what he looks like?" she asked in disbelief. Silent tears ran down her face.

-----

Lily woke up with a hwad ache and a show back. "How much did you drink?" a annoyed voice asked.

She peaked up to find a familiar person, and in a familiar place. "I think like... too much,"she answered, though mind elsewhere. While she had grown used to not having dreams with being in the Dreaming, sh hadn't had one since she got back.

Johana stoop up from her desk, coming to sit down next to her friend." Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to try and skin your arm again?" She handed back Lily's dager.

Lily took it back, before throwing it in the pile of her jacket and shoes. It was then she noticed she had a thick bandage over her arm, where her soul mark was. She hated it now more than ever. "What have you figured out from my drunken rambling?" she wondered, placing a cold hand against her forehead.

"Well the oh so lovely Dream of the Endless sis somehow your soulmate, and refused to show you his face," Johana explained, "Which confuses me."

Sibyl sighed. "Basically dude kidnapped me, and we made an agreement I'd stay in his realm for about a month, before deciding if I'd stay or go."

"Did you try the teleportation spell?" she questioned her friend. Sibyl didn't have a long streak of being the most clever.

"Oh yeah," Lily assured her, "And I should have just finished it.

But I stayed, begrudgingly at first. Then I grew to not mind being there, than I liked it that, and..." There were words Lily wanted to say but couldn't bring herself to. Her eyes stung and heart ached at the thought of it.

She let out a deep breath. "The entire time he had on this monstrous helm, like seriously, spine trunk. He refused to show me his face. I was patient, but I couldn't let him continue to do what he wants without showing me he trusts me. I went to remove it myself, cause it was either taking that thing off or being done with our relationship. I thought he'd see logic and reason. Instead he took ending it not his own hands, sending me away... I haven't even had a dream since."

Lily looked to the floor, meloncholic. By some miracle, or dehydration, she wasn't crying. "I'm angry, sad, and so frustrated," she groaned, finanly getting to voice her feelings. "I don't even want to acknowledge we're soulmates. I don't even want to be soulmates. I'd do anything to get this fucking name off of me."

-----

Ripples through the universe are not common, but they do happen. So two happening within such quick succession of eachother was something to take interest in.

The second one struck sunthing deep within Dream. Something he had long since ignored and tired to forget. No matter what he had to go a see what it was, knowing nothing good will come from the visit.

It had been centuries since he last visited the Mediterranean island. He had never thought he would step foot on it ever again. The care takers asked no questions, but kept their haze to the ground, moving out of the Endless' path.

Dream stepped into the small build that had been his son's home for most of his deathless life. Or what had expected to be deathless. The caretakers had already prepared the head of Orpheus for burial.

There was only a handful of being that could bring about the end of Orpheus. Dream knew it was no of his siblings, none would do such a thing. Even Desire, after all his son was a means to an ends for his sibling. He had to wonder who, no what has killed Orpheus.

It could have eazily been missed. Tucked in the corner of the window sill was a flash of reflected sunlight. It was a large metal knife, no dagger. Dream kne that Dager, from one side being solver while the other iron, the worn and loved leather gril, and the protective charm carved in the pommel. The fish time he had seen it, it had been pull on him, the next it was covered in it's owners blood. Now it was clean, not a single drop of crimson. Red however, there was a strand. Near the blade was a strand of red thread, cut red thread.

Sibyl had been there, and somehow involved with the death of Orpheus. While she had powers more so than the average human, no witch would have the power to undo the deal between Death and her nephew. Something wasn't right. Not in the slightest.

Dream pulled up his sleeve, and urge that pricked at the back of his mind. He hadn't known what feelings he felt anymore for that name on his arm. He once loved it, bringing him hope, and was something he protected. But now it left a sour taste in his mouth. He had believed that Sibyl had been different, different for his past lovers, different from all other humans. She was the same as the rest. He knew that the moment she tried taking off his helm. Dispite his best effort to forget them, her words of trust did ring in his ears, causing a sliver of guilt. Had she had a point?

It did not matter anymore, as his arm was baren.

-------

Johanna thought she was finally done with all that. It had been a couple days since Lily last called her in tears or in anger. She couldn't blame her, but it was getting to be a lot. When the magic user felt a precense in her flat, she assumed the witch had somehow gotten in on her own again. Turning on the lights revealed otherwise.

There ein the middle of the room was something she did not want to see again. Even if only in her dreams. "Why are you here?" she asked Dream of the Endless.

"Constantine," he said in a low tone. "I need your assistance with finding someone."

Johana gave him a look of questioning. "Can't you just wait until they fall asleep?"

Dream's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. "They have somehow managed to disconnect themselves for myself and realm entirely."

Johana noticed how his gaze lingered down at his arm. She scoffed. "If it's Sibyl Crow you are looking for," she started, "You entirely deserve what she's done."

Dream glared at the woman. "How do you know Sibyl?"

Johana rolled her eyes, "You really think a magic user and a witch living in the same city wouldn't at least be aware of eachother."

"You appear to be more than acquaintances," Dream continued to push.

"That's cause Lily's a clinging bitch," Johanna groaned, "She's so lonely she'd befriend a rabid dog..." No matter what she had tried, she couldn't get rid of the witch. She just gave up after a while.

She had already pulled out her phone to call the witch. Maybe he'd go away if Lily herself told him to fuck off. It went straight to voicemail. Johanna let out a sigh of annoyance, though not concerning.

"Have you tried her flat?" Johanna asked. It was still early into summer break, there wouldn't be a reason for her to be working yet.

"It is warded against my entry," he explained.

"Well lucky for you, I got a key," she answered, pulling said key from a drawer. Sybil had put it on a rediculous key chain of a pink puff ball, as to prevent Johanna from loosing it.

--------

Sibyl's flat was a mess. Not that it usually wasn't. However there was the makings of a pyramid of empty cans, both of energy drink and alcoholic. Lily wasn't much a fan of either, never consumes the in large quantities. Take out Containers filled the trash can, as well as plenty of counter space. Usually she kept her witchcraft neatly packed away in the small dresser that was her alter, yet scattered about her entire apartments were books on anything mildly unnatural in subject, maps of laylines and other things Johanna didn't understand.

Something caused her heart to stop. "She wouldn't," Johanna mumbled, grabbing at the pages of scarred notes about the apartment. She barely payed attention she Lily called her, thinking the witch just needed someone to rant to. Still Constantine caught it in bits and pieces, Sibyl was looking for a way to sever her fate from Dream's. "Lily's dramatic, but she wouldn't pay that price," she tried to reason with herself.

"What do you know Constantine?" the Endless demanded.

"Please tell me her names still on you," Johanna pleaded. She would deny it to anyone who asked, but Sibyl was her friend, someone she could trust her life with. She didn't want to loose her just like everyone else.

Dream looked away, giving the exrocist all the answer she needed. Johanna dropped the pages, which would take her too long to understand at all. "Fuck," she groaned, "Sibyl, what did you do?"

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

Sibyl had severed her fate from his. It fit right in with all other failures of relationships he has had. This one had the most promise, but had lasted the shortest. Dream would teuely never love again. Still Sibyl payed a price because of his actions. If he couldn't pay part of it, he would at least want to know what it was.

Destiny may have had it written in his book, but he wouldn't share it with anyone, nor even his brother unless it said he would. There was a much more for sure way to learn what occurs in fate. To talk to the Fates themselves.

"I, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, summon the fates," he called to the universe. He had gathered his offerings, prepared to pay the price. "The three who are one, the one who is three." Something was different, there wasn't the same reaction of the world around him to the called of The Three.

"I'm gonna stop you there," some called from behind him, "It's one who is one now."

Dream turned around not believing his ears. There stood Sibyl, though not the same as before. Her arms were bare, of both his name and her tattoos. Her clothes shifted colors like an aurora boreal is, her hair floating in a breeze that was not there. Her eyes....

-----------

Sibyl stood in the circle of her own making. Chalk of frowned calf bones, spores from a mushroom grown on the corpse of a deer, and the blood spilled from the womb. Those were just in the outline, Sibyl was not proud to tell what took her to gather everything for the spell. She held her bleeding arm out before her, calling to the universe. "The three who are one, the one who is three, the Hecate."

The wind and rain which had gradually grown around her was all but silent in that moment. "We haven't been summoned by one such as you in a long while, child," a voice beyond years croaked.

Sibyl turned around to find three woman standing before her. She was quick to fall to her knee, stoll holding the offering of her own blood to them. "Please I ask of you, sperate my fare from his," she pleaded, "I do not wish to be bound to someone who can't trust me with the most simplest of things."

"Child, raise your head," a soft voice called out to her. Sibyl hesitantly looked up.

"Oh lovely," the maiden cooed, "We gave you a hard fate, that would come with many reward of you shall over come it."

"We over you this advice for what you have given," the crone continued, "Have hope."

Sibyl gribded her teeth. She was sick and tired of supernatural beings thinking less of her. "I didn't ask for advice," she hissed, "I gave you a sacrafice, just get this name off of me."

The mother reached out and stroked Sibyl's cheek. "You know better than to seek tk your elder than that, your auntie taught you better."

The maiden replaced the mother, her had on the young witch's cheek. "Your blood may be special, but no amount of it will be the price to do what you want."

Sibyl let out a deep breath. "I will pay whatever price," she confessed.

"Your soul," all three said at once. The crone stepped away from the girl. "You're human soul." The wind started to pick up once again.

"It binds you to this world," the maiden said.

"It binds you to the ones you love," the mother.

"To unbind you, we must take it," the croan.

The wind had became much worse than it had before, picking up dirt and howling in the night.

"We three will become one, and you will become we," the unified voice of three bellowed over the wind. "All magic come with a price. You know that well. A price for a price, only for something great. What it will be up to you, and not me."

------

Her eyes held no color, just white. Though she was looking at him, she wasn't seeing him. "Do you need to ask?" she said sarcastically, "As you can clearly see what price I payed." Sibyl gave up her sight to become the physical embodiment of fate, which she did to sever herself from him. He wonders of that was the plan all along. Him fated to be alone, for ever.

#Sandman #sandman x reader #sandman x oc #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x y/n #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x original character

[l0v3s1xk]

PUPPY LOVE! TRAFALGAR LAW

summary :: Just the law and reader pretending to b future s/o

pairing :: child! trafalgar law x child f! reader

warnings/tags :: just fluff :,) wc. 1.2k words 01.01.23 requests are now open!  please do not mind the grammar mistakes or typos

zoë’s note. this is my first fanfic since i moved over from wattpad :) i hope you enjoy reading and happy new year!!!

Just arriving at the front door of the small school, you made your way through; quickly finding your friends and taking a seat next to them

“Yo y/n!” Luffy yelling out

“stop talking so loud” said Nami hitting him on the back of the head

Sitting with you was, Kid & Killer ( both bothersome and a annoying duo ) Luffy, Ace and Sabo ( loud, loud & loud!! ) Hancock ( Luffy's so called 'girlfriend' according to Hancock ), Nami ( Luffy's 'mistress' according to Hancock ). Robin ( Again another ‘Luffy Mistress’ also according to Hancock ) Sanji ( Nami’s biggest fan) And Zoro ( who was sleeping and could care less )

“Where’s traffy?” Luffy stepped over everyone looking for his “bud”. thats when you heard steps behind you before a familiar voice called you out...

"Morning straw hat-ya" 

Everyone turned to him while luffy tackled his friend. Law, who you rarely saw, was a part of ur little group. Your instantly stopped on your tracks, your small cheeks getting redder as the boy scanned you with his bored cold eyes as usual. You never would admit of having a tiny crush on him and his little mannerisms 

“Morning law-san….” you said quietly

"Look, Law, it's (Y/N)!" Luffy yelled pushing him closer to you. unbeknownst to everyone he also was very found of you but has never mentioned anything about it

"I know, I can see her." Law mumbled 

For people who first meet him he seems boring and sometimes rude but you had been around and acquainted with him, so you gotten used to how he does things, like if he looked or even speaked to you more than once than you were 'approved', if not then he'd never look your way again unless you were a threat

"What's he doing here?" Law asked clearly not happy with the sudden appearance of Kid next to you.

"What am I doing here!? What are YOU doing here! probably coming over to kiss face with y-" before Kid could finish his sentence Law covered Kid’s mouth with his hand and spoke over him

"You talk too much-" simply & hotly saying making you suddenly admired his side profile and cool actions

"Dont touch me you shit face!"

"Ok that's enough!” Nami said then waving her hand to gather everyone together 

"Is he always that creepy looking” Hancock bluntly asked distancing herself away from Law

"Nah, he's just uh- idk…” Nami questionly said

"You'll see once you get to know him better!” Luffy Yelled

Everyone rolled their eyes at him and continued talking about some game they wanted to play before class started, everyone except Law, who kept stealing glances at you…

"We decided to play house!" Hancock stated before grabbing on to Luffy's arm "I'll be the mom and Luffy gets to be the dad!"

Luffy took her grabbing his arm wrong he started to play fight with her bringing along Sabo and Ace to join in on the wrestling 

As the fight progressed you felt a light tap on your shoulder "Let's team up." Nami said grabbing your hand leading you away from the fight

“How would we even team up?” 

“team up with me and i can help you team up with Law!”

"I'm in!" You immediately said and shook hands with Nami

"You're in for what?" A voice startled the both of you not hearing Law sneak up

"N-Nothing!" Guilt hit your faces before Nami pushed you into laws body 

"Since you're here, you two get to be a couple!” She ran away from you two and mumbled under her breath “Don’t dont forget to pay me…”

Law caught as you fell into his arms. You felt him staring holes into the top of your head. Feeling your body tense up in his arms he spoke out

"Do I creep you out too?" His serene voice was laced with worry.

"NO! No... you don't."Your words soothed his thoughts. You looked up seeing a beautiful sight in front of you "Are you... Are you smiling?..“

Panicking Law didn't realize what he was doing, he the fact that you were breaking his walls...

"N-No, I'm not! Don't be ridicilous!" His right hand came to hide his mouth while his cheeks also betrayed him.

"awe you’re so cute" you said as u caressed his cheeks making him slightly panic even more

"Damn it! im not!" - The boy cursed you and ur actions

"Its okay, after all you can show me your real you, we're… husband and wife after all.." You joked giggling 

"I guess so..." More calm now, he avoided your gaze, still embarrassed but he did not let you go, afraid of ur warmth leaving him

"Aww, look they are going to kiss” Kids mocking voice interrupted the two of you while making kissing noises

Looking around everyone seemed ready to play, or almost... ready

With Nami trying to calm down Luffy, His Brothers And Hancock, Kid and Killer got bored eventually getting distracted and leaving, Zoro was still sleeping and Sanji chasing after Robin to get her to be his second wife. in the end you and Law were the only ones playing the game

-

"Good morning b-baby." You pecked Law's cheek making his ears burn to ur un-necessary actions

“G-Good morning, h-h-honey.." he hesitantly returned the kiss and continued to play along, sitting at the invisible table of your invisible kitchen.

"What's for breakfast?" -He asked

“I made a breakfast sandwich!” u smiled pretending to set down ur plate

"I hate bread." His eyes turned black and cold as a rock.

"Oh uh- here french toast!" - You proudly show him

"That’s still bread" Law deadpanned

"Then what do you like?" You didn't know what else do, he was a pretty bratty husband 

"Fish…."

You made the fish of of sticks and stuff, whatever you found in the grass went in the dish and you served ur “fish” to Law

“Bon appetít!”

"I think I'm going to be sick..." Law deadpanning again

Tears threatend to trickle down from ur glossed over eyes, you whimperd turning around so he wouldn’t see you shamefully crying, but he had caught on already

"W-Wait! Don't cry! I was joking!" Panicking he got up to spin you around and hold you close "I’m sure you will be a beautiful wife that’s makes great food and stuff!"

"Really?" You sniffed as he dried your tears "How do you know that?"

"-I-I'll be there...uh… to know.." He avoided your eyes, intertwining your hands together taking you to walk somewhere

"What does that mean?" you questioned his motive but he never bother to explain further what he meant, instead he sat you down at the 'table'

“Here i have something for you!” Law put his hand in is pocket fishing out a ring pop candy; Opening he asked for your hand which you gladly held out for him as he slipped the ring on

"There, You really are my wife." Law smirked pulling you into a hug and resting his head on top of yours. hugging back u nuzzled into his chest hiding ur burning face from his sight.

@l0v3s1xk 2023

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #fluff #trafalgar d law x reader #luffy x reader #THIS IS SO CUTE BYE #nami x reader

[misfit-mania-the-first]

Okay I know this is old news or whatever but I am so mad about how much hate the artist/author of Boyfriends on WEBTOON gets.

From when I was more into the comic, the main reason ppl had to be upset at the person were:

A) They drew BTS nsfw art in their teens

B) They fetishized trans men

C) The characters are all Asian and do not look Asian

D) They had the nerd say he was a proshipper

These reasons are honestly so bad to me. Idk if anyone else has extra info or maybe something else he did was bad, but I’m going to explain why I think these are such bad reasons.

1. BTS nsfw art

I’m just going to come out and say it’s bad to write or draw fanart/fanfics of any real person if they haven’t given consent to. It’s different from characters because these are Real People with real emotions and such. And yeah, that wasn’t good. But a couple things. They stopped drawing it around 17-19. For some people that’s way too old to be drawing that, and many think that it’s an attempt at an excuse.

I don’t think that’s the case. I can’t tell you how many posts I’ve seen online of people having bombastic crushes on singers and actors and doing the most heinous shit because they were teenagers. Teenagers just Do That. Yes it’s creepy, but many people go through a phase of having to learn how to seperate fiction from reality and it’s in your teen years. It’s not odd, and I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility to consider that a 17-18-19 year old would learn that and send out an apology. I mean our brains apparently don’t even develop till 25. There was also one point that many believed that the artist actually liked someone else’s nsfw BTS art recently, but I saw the post they liked and in my opinion…I had no idea who tf they were drawing. I’m not into BTS but I’ve seen pictures and if I was just scrolling one day and saw it I’d like the post. I don’t remember any BTS specific tags or a BTS related caption. Maybe the entire account was about that and so they didn’t feel the need for tags but I have no idea.

2) They fetishized trans men

Writing four trans men acting stupid and cringy in college and having healthy relationships and discussing boundaries and consent in a polyamorous relationship is not fetishizing. The artist himself is a trans man.

Sidebar, many critiques also center around the unrealistic portrayal of four ppl being in one polyamorous relationship together which honestly? Who cares if it’s unrealistic, it’s a good portrayal and it’s a romance, why can’t gays just have a happy story for once.

3) The characters are all Asian and do not look Asian

Hey, I didn’t know they were Asian either. I mean, I figured jock was but not the others. But honestly it’s not that big a deal. They’re the only four characters in the entire series I believe( other than their girl counterparts) and I’m sure if there was another character that wasn’t Asian we’d be able to tel. But even then, many many comics have a similar simplistic artstyle online, and race and ethnicity are not always obvious. Also the artist is Filipino, so I really doubt there’s anything iffy going on there.

4) Nerd is a proshipper

There’s nothing bad about thinking fiction ≠ reality and that you can act independently of the fiction you consume. Most people irl are proship without realizing it. Most literature is proship, because it explores every single aspect of storytelling. Antis really have not chosen the best hill to die on.

And that’s all I’ve got.

#boyfriends #boyfriends webtoon #proshipping

[athenam]

about that post u tagged me in earlier, wanna spill the tea on what happens at ur school? keeping privacy in mind, ofc :P

yippieeeeeee time to talk about the crazy people I share a school with :)

I'm gonna put a bunch of little stories of all the insane stuff under the cut cause this is gonna get longgg

also tw for mild blood and SA talk (both are only mentioned but just to be safe)

ok we gonna start with the most recent thing, this happened two days ago, a kid climbed out the window in my social studies class, it was the first floor so its less extreme but it started with him trying to get a pencil from outside and sticking his body half way out the window and then the teacher said he wouldn't chase after him if he went out the window so then a group of boys started blocking the teachers line of sight to him and he went out the window and then the window got closed and he stood there. after that the teacher saw and yelled at him to go around and then he wrote up the guy who went out the window and the kids who helped him, and as a reminder, that was TWO DAYS AGO

side note; my social studies class is a fever dream to be in so don't be surprised if you hear more about it

and on the topic of social studies, I once was walking in the hall and over heard all the social studies teachers talking about just up and leaving, one of them said and I quote "If we leave what are they gonna do, we can just go 'the entire social studies department left, figure it out.'" and honestly I almost said "if you go take me with you pleaseeee"

2nd story, a kid set of a firecracker in the bathroom and another kid was his firecracker dealer, we didn't see either of them at school for like a month after that

story 3, a kid in my grade stabbed a kid two grades under us with a pencil, a sharp pencil, it drew blood

#4 last year a really creepy sub came to my school and he was always super touchy with the girls and for some reason he always was talking about how he was a grandfather, we found out about a month after he stopped subbing at our school that he went to jail for touching kids

also, two kids at my school have been to juvy

honorable mentions to the things that I'm pretty sure happen at most schools, like pregnancy rumors, that one girl that homie hops like it's her job, that other girl is always starting drama about nothing, and the really dumb boy that says the stupidest stuff ever and then gets in trouble for somehow doing something stupider and then also goes and snitches on people

that's all for now, if I have more I'll add on and if you got questions feel free to ask :]

#socializing with the stars #MORE ENRICHMENT