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tavukwings · 1 month ago

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DISCORD USER KÖNIG Part 2 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝓊𝓉𝓎

(König x Reader — Discord Friends, Slow Burn, Soft, Eventual Smut)

Taglist:

@poltergeist404 @laduenadelswing @dillybuggg @illonvk(i can’t tag you??😭) @whore4romance

4 Days Earlier – Discord, 1:13 AM

You:

“König? You alive?”

“You didn’t rage-quit life, right?”

“Don’t make me send memes. I’m armed.”

Silence.

No online status. No “typing…” No pings.

You sat there staring at his name in the server list—dark grey. Offline. Like a light had been switched off.

He’d gone dark before. Missions, spotty signal, sleep. But never this long. Four days with no update, not even a vague emoji or one of his weird, dry messages.

Your chest had that familiar ache. The one that crept in when you worried too much about someone who hadn’t promised you anything. He wasn’t yours.

But God, you missed him.

⸻

Tonight – 11:37 PM | Ping

König is online.

Your hand shot out like it moved on instinct. Mouse click. Open chat.

König has joined the VC.

No message. No warning.

Just his name lighting up the voice channel.

You scrambled for your headset, heart thudding.

You:

“König?!”

A pause. Crackle. Mic fuzz.

Then—his voice.

König (quiet, hoarse):

“…Hallo.”

One word.

But it hit you in the chest like a punch. Low, deep, exhausted. And something else. Like all the energy had been drained from him, leaving only that voice and the breath it rode in on.

You (softly):

“Where have you been?”

Silence.

You heard a sigh. Long, tired.

König:

“Mission. Remote. No contact. Sorry.”

He never said sorry.

Not unless he meant it.

You:

“Could’ve left a dramatic goodbye. A ‘if I die, delete my search history’ kind of thing.”

A dry chuckle through the mic.

But it didn’t reach his voice fully.

König:

“I didn’t want to leave.”

Something in you froze.

It wasn’t a flirt. Not a tease.

Just honesty.

You (quiet):

“You okay?”

A longer pause.

König:

“…No.”

Your breath caught.

There were layers to that word. Fatigue. Pain. Guilt. You waited, giving him space to speak. He always came to things on his own time.

König (muffled, low):

“Two men. Squadmates. Dead.”

You:

“König…”

You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? “I’m sorry” felt cheap. And he’d already heard that enough.

He exhaled hard, like he was trying to push something out that wouldn’t move.

König:

“I hesitated. I… was too slow.”

You:

“That’s not your fault.”

König (strained):

“It is. I froze. I’ve done this job for ten years. That doesn’t happen.”

You could hear the anger in him now—not at you. At himself. His voice trembled, a low, hot undercurrent of shame.

König:

“I was thinking of you.”

Your breath hitched.

You (carefully):

“Me?”

König:

“I was pinned. Behind a crate. Shot ringing past my head. And all I could think was—”

He cut himself off.

Static filled the silence.

Then:

König (quietly):

“All I could think was, if I die now… I’ll never hear you laugh in person.”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

Your throat was tight. Fingers frozen over your keyboard.

König (softer):

“I’ll never get to… see you. Not through a screen. Not in pieces. You’d never even know.”

You swallowed hard.

You:

“I’d know.”

A pause. Heavy.

You (softer):

“I would’ve noticed. I would’ve waited. And waited. And known something was wrong.”

Another long silence.

König:

“I didn’t think this would happen. You. Us. This… feeling.”

He sounded raw. Stripped bare. No mask. No walls.

König (almost ashamed):

“I think about you too much.”

You closed your eyes. Your chest ached from how real it all felt.

You:

“I think about you too.”

A quiet, shaky breath from his mic.

König:

“You make me slow. Careful. Soft. I can’t afford to be soft.”

You:

“Maybe you can.”

He let that hang in the air for a while. Then:

König:

“Come to Austria.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

You:

“What?!”

König:

“Not now. Not yet. But one day.”

You (smiling faintly):

“You sure you’re ready for my chaotic energy in real life?”

König (warmly):

“I’ve fought wars. I can survive you.”

A laugh finally slipped from your lips.

König (low, softer now):

“I just… I needed to hear your voice.”

You held your mug of cold tea and let the warmth in your chest fill in the rest.

You:

“Play a match with me?”

König:

“Even if I lose on purpose to impress you?”

You:

“Especially if you do.”

⸻

VC — Late Night

Your voice was soft through the headset, almost whispering now. You’d both been gaming for hours, long after your teammates logged off, until it was just the two of you — König, still wearing his mask, slouched on his bed at base, and you, curled under a blanket in your room with only the monitor lighting your face.

He had gone quiet for a while. Just the sounds of you sipping tea and the game lobby music.

You glanced over at his username.

Still connected.

Still breathing.

“Hey,” you said softly. “You good?”

A pause. A long one.

Then, finally, König’s voice came through. Rougher than usual. Tired. Small.

“Ja… just thinking.”

You waited. Didn’t push. You’d learned to be gentle with his silences.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Do you know how long it’s been since someone touched me?”

Your heart stuttered.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He filled the space instead.

“I don’t mean like… sex or whatever,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “I mean like—hug. A hand on the shoulder. Even a pat on the back. I don’t think anyone’s hugged me in… over two years.”

That hit you like a punch to the chest.

You sat up straighter. “Konig…”

“It’s fine,” he said too quickly, like he regretted saying it. “Sorry. Forget it. I don’t want to be weird.”

“No. No, hey.” Your voice softened. “That’s not weird. That’s… awful.”

“I think I forgot what it feels like,” he said quietly. “Warmth. Pressure. Another heartbeat. Everything I touch is tactical. Weapon. Trigger. Door. Steel.”

You bit your lip, feeling something sharp and tender bloom behind your ribs.

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your voice light but honest, “if we ever meet, I’m hugging you so long you’ll beg me to let go.”

Silence.

Then:

“…Really?”

“Really.”

A beat.

“I’d hold you for hours,” he said, voice raw, chest deep. “And I’d never ask you to let go.”

⸻

The Next Day – Discord Messages

König is Online.

He’s quiet today, but present. You’re in another Discord voice chat, casually chatting with a couple people you game with now and then. One of them, a guy from another server, keeps jokingly flirting with you during the match.

You laugh him off — as usual — but König’s gone dead silent.

After the match, you check your DMs.

König [Typing…]

Then he sends:

König:

That guy from the match. He does that often?

You blink.

You:

Who, Levi? He’s just messing around. He flirts with everyone, lol.

König:

Still.

Didn’t like it.

You:

Oh? You jealous, big guy?

The typing bubble appears.

Then disappears.

Then reappears.

König:

Do you want me to take care of it?

Your brows lifted.

You:

Wait—what??

König:

Not like that.

Just… let him know to back off.

You:

König… you’re being protective.

König:

Maybe I am.

Is that bad?

You felt your chest tighten. He wasn’t teasing. He meant it. You could practically see his furrowed brows through the screen, his knuckles tight where they rested near his mouse, his jaw clenched behind that mask.

You typed slower this time.

You:

No.

I like it.

But only if you’re protective of me… and not just anyone else.

A pause.

Then:

König:

Only you.

⸻

Three Weeks Without König

The Discord call had gone silent three weeks ago.

He left one last message.

König:

Mission time. I’ll be back soon, ja?

Stay safe, meine Süße.

And then nothing.

He’d told you once, offhandedly during a sleepy 2 a.m. VC, that missions could stretch long. That there were places he couldn’t bring his phone. That when he was deployed, he shut the world out to survive.

You tried to wait patiently.

You really did.

But three weeks felt like a lifetime when the one person who made you feel seen—safe—was just gone.

You found yourself staring at your phone. Re-reading old messages. That awkward selfie he sent once from the gym—his shirt clinging to his body, face cropped out, only his sweaty jawline and chest visible. You remembered teasing him for it, and how he stammered so much in the VC afterward he accidentally muted himself.

Your chest ached.

And that ache turned into something restless. Something reckless.

So, you did the only thing your heart screamed at you to do.

You booked a flight.

⸻

Austria – König’s Apartment

The city was colder than you expected. Brisk wind, gray skies, but beautiful—stone buildings with old wooden shutters and narrow streets that echoed when you wheeled your small suitcase down them.

You had the address. You’d sent him that limited-edition energy drink once, the one you both joked was probably radioactive. He never forgot it. Called you “his supplier” like it was a spy mission.

He once joked about hiding his key under the mat.

“Classic, I know,” he’d laughed over voice. “But no one ever checks, eh?”

Except you did.

And there it was.

A plain silver key under a faded old mat that read “Möge das WLAN stark sein” (“May the Wi-Fi be strong”).

You stepped inside.

His apartment was quiet. Still. Like him.

Big, but sparse. Clean. A little too clean. Just essentials.

Military-precise.

His mask hung on a hook by the door. His boots, muddy and massive, rested nearby. You walked around slowly, taking it all in — the way his couch had an indent shaped exactly like his body, the small pile of books in German and English, the little Post-It note stuck to his fridge with a scribbled reminder in his messy handwriting:

Call her when you’re back.

Your heart clenched.

You dragged your suitcase into his room.

Then curled up on his bed to wait.

⸻

Hours Later – The Front Door Opens

You heard the jingle of keys.

Then heavy boots. A grunt. A sigh.

The soft clink of his gear being dropped by the door.

Your heart pounded in your ears. You pressed your hand to your chest to steady it.

You heard his footsteps come down the hall.

He paused outside his bedroom door.

A beat.

Then—

Click.

The door opened.

You leapt.

He barely had time to react.

“Was zur—?!”

You threw yourself at him, arms around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist as you tackled him back a step. He staggered under your weight—though not much—and instinctively caught you, huge hands gripping your thighs.

“Hallo?!” he barked. “Who—?!”

Then he saw your face.

“…Schatz?”

You grinned. “Surprise, soldier.”

König just… stared.

You saw his expression shift through five stages of confusion before settling on stunned disbelief. His blue eyes wide under messy hair, fresh stubble shadowing his jaw, lips parted slightly.

“You—bist du verrückt?!” he whispered hoarsely. “You flew to Austria?!”

You nodded, still holding him tightly. “Yep.”

“And broke into my home?!”

“Technically, I used the key you hid under the mat.”

König blinked, mouth open.

Then he dropped his bag.

And crushed you into his chest.

He didn’t speak for a moment. Just held you. Arms like steel. Like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

You could feel his heart pounding against yours.

“…I thought I was dreaming,” he finally muttered. “This feels like a dream.”

You leaned back to look into his face, your hands cupping his jaw. “It’s real, König.”

He just stared at you like he couldn’t believe it. Then, softly:

“…I missed you.”

⸻

You were curled up on the couch, his oversized hoodie swallowing your small frame. König sat beside you, unusually quiet, rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding your eyes. The air between you felt heavy — but not uncomfortable. More like… electric.

“So,” you said softly, nudging him with your foot, “how does it feel having me here, crashing your place like a wrecking ball?”

His gaze finally flicked to you, and you caught the faintest blush coloring his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to act casual but failing spectacularly.

“I—I wasn’t prepared for this.” His voice cracked just a little. “You… surprised me.”

You smiled, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes widened for a moment at the gentle touch.

“Yeah? You look like you’re about to combust.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, eyes darting down to your hand then back up. “Maybe I am. You—uh—you’re not just crashing the place. You’re… you’re crashing my defenses.”

You laughed softly, heart fluttering.

“Are you saying I’m making you shy?”

König’s lips twitched into a small, embarrassed smile. “Maybe.”

You scooted closer, your knee brushing his thigh. “Good. You’re adorable when you’re like this.”

He swallowed hard, face still pink. “Adorable? I’m a soldier.”

“And yet here you are, blushing like a schoolboy.” You winked.

His eyes flicked to the floor, voice low. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Only to you,” you teased.

He let out a short, breathy laugh, still shy but somehow more relaxed now. You both sat like that for a while, the quiet between you filled with something warm — a new kind of closeness neither of you had quite dared to explore before.

You stayed close to König, the warmth from his body still lingering after your surprise hug. The quiet between you felt charged, the kind of silence that buzzes softly with things left unsaid.

You swallowed nervously, then looked up at him with a small smile.

“Hey, König…” you began, your voice softer than usual. “Can I… share your bed tonight?”

He blinked, eyes flickering away for a moment, cheeks tinting just the faintest shade of red beneath his mask.

“Äh… I—uh… sure,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck like a shy teenager caught off guard. “If you want.”

His voice was low, hesitant, almost shy—so unlike the confident soldier you knew. You found it endearing.

You reached out, lightly brushing a hand over his massive forearm. “Thanks,” you whispered.

He gave you a small, shy smile that made your heart skip.

⸻

“Let’s go then. What are you waiting for?” you said with a teasing smile.

König stood up, a bit stiff and awkward, clearly shy but trying to keep his composure. His tall frame moved quietly behind you as you led the way to his bedroom.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, you began changing out of your clothes without a word. König’s eyes widened immediately, and he quickly turned his gaze away, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. You caught the shy flush and chuckled softly, amused by his obvious embarrassment.

You slipped into something comfortable—soft pajamas that contrasted with his military precision—and then crawled onto the bed, pulling the blankets up around you. König didn’t say much but carefully started changing too. He peeled off his shirt, revealing the hard, defined muscles beneath. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, the fabric stretched tight over powerful thighs.

You couldn’t help but glance at him. Your breath hitched at the sight—his broad chest, carved pecs shadowed by faint scars; the washboard abs you’d only seen in pictures, now right in front of you; thick, veined biceps and triceps that spoke of strength and endless discipline. His skin had that rugged, worn look from years in the field, but there was softness in his shy eyes that completely contradicted his tough exterior.

Caught staring, König’s gaze flicked to you, eyes wide and vulnerable. Without thinking, your fingers traced lightly over the ridges of his abs. The moment your skin touched his, he gasped softly, a sharp intake of breath that sent a thrill straight through you.

He remained unusually silent, cheeks flushed a deep pink, and you could tell your touch caught him off guard. Encouraged, you continued to explore slowly, letting your hand drift lower, tracing the line where his sweatpants met his hips.

A soft, unexpected moan slipped from his mouth, making both of you freeze instantly. König’s blue eyes locked onto yours, wide and unguarded.

You smirked gently, your voice teasing but warm. “Looks like someone’s a little more sensitive than he lets on.”

König swallowed hard, clearly flustered, but there was a spark in his eyes—something tender, something hungry—and you both knew this was just the beginning.

Your hand lingered on his hip, tracing delicate circles as König’s breath hitched again. You felt the heat radiating from his skin, his body tense beneath your touch. His usual calm, controlled demeanor was slipping away, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

Then, you noticed it—the unmistakable bulge pressing against his sweatpants. Your eyes widened slightly, and you bit your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

König’s cheeks deepened into a rich crimson, and he quickly shifted his hips away, as if trying to hide what was obvious to both of you now.

“Uh—” he stammered, voice thick, eyes darting anywhere but yours. “This is… unexpected.”

You chuckled softly, the teasing warmth in your tone impossible to hide. “Sensitive, huh? Didn’t think the mighty König would be this easy to rattle.”

He swallowed hard, jaw working as he fought the flush spreading down his neck. “You’re… dangerous.”

You reached out again, fingers brushing over the top of his abs, tracing down to his hip, your touch slow and deliberate. “I could say the same about you.”

The tension between you thickened—the room shrinking until it was just the two of you, breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync.

König’s lips parted, eyes searching yours, vulnerability flickering with something else—desire.

You smiled softly, leaning in just a fraction closer, letting your hand rest lightly on his thigh, the promise of more hanging in the air between you.

Your fingers hesitated just a moment before drifting lower, brushing along the edge of the bulge pressing against his sweatpants. König’s breath hitched sharply, eyes wide but unable to pull away.

You smiled softly, the thrill of his reaction sending a warmth straight to your core. Slowly, carefully, you began to rub the length of his hardness through the fabric—light, teasing circles that made him shift under your touch.

A low, involuntary groan escaped his lips, and you felt the vibration beneath your palm.

He was so tense, so sensitive—like every nerve ending was awake and aching.

König’s eyes flickered between yours, filled with a mixture of surprise and raw want. His usual composed mask was gone, replaced by a shy vulnerability that made your heart pound harder.

“D-Don’t stop,” he murmured, voice rough and breathless.

You chuckled, your touch lingering as you rubbed more boldly now, feeling him grow even harder beneath your palm.

His hips shifted closer, seeking more contact, but you held back just enough to keep him on edge.

The room felt electric—charged with anticipation, with unspoken promises, with the weight of everything you both wanted but hadn’t yet dared to say.

Your fingers traced slow circles, and König’s breath came faster, his muscles tensing and relaxing with each stroke.

“Sensitive,” you teased again, voice low and sultry. “You’re so damn sensitive.”

He groaned softly, the sound vibrating through your skin.

You both froze for a heartbeat—his reaction undeniable, your own desire flaring in response.

König’s breath hitched again, his hips shifting instinctively toward your hand, desperate for more contact. You let your fingers glide slowly, teasing him with just enough touch to make his pulse race without fully satisfying him.

His eyes darkened with need, flickering between wanting and holding back—just like you.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing lightly against the shell of his ear. Your breath was warm, your voice low and husky.

“Do you want more, König?”

He swallowed hard, a soft groan escaping before he nodded almost imperceptibly.

Slowly, deliberately, you pulled your hand away—just enough to build the tension even higher. Your fingers trailed down his chest, feeling every ridge of muscle under your palm.

Then your gaze locked with his.

“Come here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

König crawled toward you on the bed, each movement careful, almost shy—like he wasn’t used to letting someone see this side of him.

Your hands found his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the rough stubble that made you want to kiss every inch.

He leaned into your touch, eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment.

Then, slowly, your lips met—soft at first, exploring, tasting.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and the heat between you exploded.

His kisses deepened, urgent and hungry now, his body pressing into yours.

Every nerve ending was alive, every inch of skin craving connection.

König’s hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. His breath was ragged, warm against your skin as his lips traced a slow path down your neck. You felt the fire ignite beneath his touch—soft, deliberate, full of promise.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, feeling the heat pool low in your belly. His fingers trailed lightly down your sides, exploring curves he’d only ever seen from afar. Every touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine.

He paused, eyes searching yours, asking without words if this was okay. You nodded, heart pounding with anticipation.

Slowly, he eased his hands under your tank top, skin meeting skin. His touch was gentle but hungry, memorizing every inch, every delicate curve. You gasped softly as he traced the swell of your breasts, fingers light but knowing.

König’s lips found yours again, this time more demanding, more urgent. You melted into the kiss, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel him even more.

Every sensation heightened—the rough scrape of his stubble, the warmth of his breath, the press of his body against yours. Time slowed down, the world shrinking until it was only the two of you tangled together, exploring, learning, savoring.

His hands roamed lower, sliding beneath your sweatpants, fingers teasing, coaxing.

There was a tenderness beneath the urgency, a careful worship of each other’s bodies that made everything feel sacred.

⸻

König’s fingers drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, his touch light but deliberate. You caught the slight smirk playing on his lips—the kind of confident, knowing smile that sent a thrill straight through your core.

He pressed gently, just enough to make you shiver. The warmth beneath his hand was undeniable, his arousal growing despite the barrier of fabric. His breath hitched slightly, betraying how much he wanted you even now.

You couldn’t help it—a soft, unexpected moan escaped you. The sound was new, raw, and it seemed to surprise both of you.

König froze for a moment, eyes wide as if realizing for the first time just how much your reaction affected him. Then his smirk deepened, amused and captivated all at once.

“So… that’s your sound,” he murmured low and husky, his fingers never stopping their teasing dance. “I like it.”

Your cheeks flushed hotter, heart pounding wildly, but the heat pooling between your legs only grew stronger. The quiet room filled with your mingled breaths, the tension thick and delicious.

He leaned closer, voice a breath against your skin. He teased you just how you did earlier, “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you?”

⸻

König’s teasing fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements, his touch light but purposeful beneath the fabric. Suddenly, he paused, a subtle change in his expression—his eyes flickered down, sharp and curious.

His fingertips pressed a little more firmly, and then he stiffened.

“Hmm…” he murmured, voice low and thick with surprise. “You’re… wet.”

The word hung in the air, charged with meaning.

Your breath hitched at his touch, the warmth between you already burning, and now his knowing had set your skin alight. You felt exposed, vulnerable in the best way, caught under his gaze as he traced the slickness through the thin sweatpants.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “I can feel how much you want me.”

You shivered, heart pounding hard. König’s fingers didn’t stop; if anything, they moved more boldly, stroking you through the fabric, making your breath catch again and again.

“Does that feel good?” he teased, his voice rough and playful.

You could only nod, lost in the heat of the moment, your moans growing softer but more urgent.

König’s blue eyes locked with yours, shining with something darker, hungrier, as the quiet room pulsed with the promise of what was to come.

Without breaking eye contact, König’s hand slid lower, fingers tracing the waistband of your sweatpants. Then, with a swift, confident motion, he shoved the fabric aside, exposing your wet skin to his touch.

His fingers pressed gently at first, then more boldly, moving with slow precision that sent shivers racing through your body. You gasped softly, clutching his arm as he explored you, every touch igniting sparks beneath your skin.

König’s breath was warm against your neck as he whispered, “So soft. So perfect.”

He teased you expertly, his fingers stroking and circling, eliciting soft moans and trembling gasps. The heat between you thickened, the room growing smaller until it felt like it existed only for this moment—just you and him, tangled together.

His other hand found your jaw, tilting your face up as his lips brushed yours, slow and teasing, the promise of more burning in his eyes.

König’s fingers moved with growing confidence, the pad of one finger tracing over your wetness, teasing you lightly. Then, with a deliberate, slow motion, he pressed one finger inside you.

You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as the new sensation overwhelmed your senses. His touch was careful but sure, moving just enough to make you shiver.

He watched your reactions closely, his blue eyes darkening with desire and concern all at once. “Sag mir, wenn es zu viel ist,” he murmured softly. (“Tell me if it’s too much.”)

You shook your head, unable to speak, too caught up in the way he made you feel — delicate, wanted, and achingly alive.

His finger moved gently, coaxing, teasing, and you felt the heat in your body deepen, every nerve ending alert.

König’s finger moved slowly, carefully exploring, his touch light but deliberate. You bit your lip to hold back a soft moan as the sensation rolled through you, every nerve waking up with delicious heat.

His breathing hitched just a little, his blue eyes locked on your face, reading every flicker of pleasure and hesitation. “Du bist so schön,” he whispered low, the German rough and tender in the same breath. (“You’re so beautiful.”)

You reached out instinctively, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him a bit closer. His other hand found your hip, steadying you as his finger deepened just slightly, coaxing more of that breathless feeling.

Your heart hammered, and your voice was barely a whisper, “König…”

He paused, looking up, searching your eyes. “Ja?”

“I want more,” you said, voice trembling.

He smiled softly, that shy, strong man torn between wanting to go slow and the raw pull of desire.

His finger moved with careful, teasing precision, making you shiver beneath his touch. The warmth spreading through you was dizzying, every nerve ending alive with sensation. You tangled your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling him closer as your breath hitched again.

König’s other hand slid from your hip to cup your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek as he watched your reactions with intense, almost reverent focus.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with something between admiration and desire.

You whimpered softly, desperate for more but knowing this slow dance was building something electric — a tension that promised fire.

His finger pressed just a little deeper, circling slowly, sending sparks of pleasure rolling through you like gentle waves. You arched into him, your hips moving slightly, craving more contact.

König’s eyes darkened, lips parting as he swallowed hard. His hand on your face tightened just a touch, anchoring you as if afraid you might float away in the storm of feeling he was stirring inside you.

“Please,” you breathed, voice trembling with want.

He hesitated for only a moment longer, then leaned down to brush his lips softly over yours — a promise of more, of everything waiting just beneath the surface.

You tug gently at the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers curling into the soft fabric, sending a clear, silent message. König’s breath hitched, his eyes flickering to yours with a mix of surprise and something deeper—desire, hesitation, excitement all swirling at once.

Slowly, almost reverently, he slides his hands down to the waistband, gripping the fabric. You hold your breath, heart pounding as he peels the sweatpants down just enough, revealing the hard length you’d been imagining, now fully visible and more real than you’d dared hope.

His cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, but his eyes don’t leave yours, as if searching for permission—or maybe daring you to take the lead.

You reach out again, fingertips tracing the hard line, feeling the heat radiate against your skin, your own breath catching in your throat. The room is thick with tension and unspoken promises as you lean in closer, every inch of you craving more-

König jolted awake, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his skin.

His eyes were wide, confused—disoriented.

It was still dark outside.

For a second, he blinked at the ceiling, heart pounding, trying to remember where he was.

A dream. It was just a dream.

A very… detailed dream.

He groaned and slammed his big hand down to the side of the bed in frustration—

SMACK.

You yelped.

He froze.

“…Was that—?”

You stirred, voice thick with sleep, “König… did you just slap my ass?”

König’s entire soul left his body.

“I—I didn’t mean—I thought you weren’t there—I mean, I thought the bed was empty—”

You rolled over slowly, raising an eyebrow in the dim light. “So, what, you randomly smack the mattress when I’m not here?”

“…No?”

You burst out laughing, burying your face in the pillow. “Unbelievable.”

König groaned and flopped back against the bed, mortified. “Please just let me die now.”

You patted his chest, still giggling. “Next time just ask nicely.”

He groaned louder.

#konig x reader fanfict #konig x reader fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you #cod fanfic #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig fanfiction #konig smut #könig

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cyber333angel · 5 months ago

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thinking about gamer!violet x reader.. how cute she would be when she explains the lore of yet another game play that has a larger meaning to human life, and how game 2 was extraordinarily better than game 1 by many points including the change in graphics. she has you sitting in her lap on the game chair with her kitty ear headset on, that you made for her and is now the only one she will ever use, and playing on the matching pink controllers you both gifted each other on your anniversary. vi loves you, without a doubt in the world she would do anything for you but sometimes your girlfriend can just get so.. immersed in the game that she doesn’t pay any attention to you, leaving you to whine for her to notice you. “vi how much longer are you gonna play? m’bored and it’s been hours by now..” you say with a huff, straddling your girlfriends lap as you look at her. “i know, just one more round yeah? i promise baby” she says as she gives you a kiss on the lips, with the same excuse she used and hour ago. you get annoyed, all you want is to have her attention on you and she won’t even give you that. as if a light bulb appeared above your head you slightly perk up, coming up with an idea that will definitely catch vi’s attention.

“yeah im coming around the back, cover for me.” she says, oblivious for only a moment longer as she talks to her teammate. you were only wearing a pair of short n soft night shorts while in your girlfriends lap, which coincidentally made perfect for easy access to touch yourself. so you moved to have your back rested on vis chest, ass pressing against her lap.

you spread your legs a little wider and stretched the thin fabric to the side, other hand reaching around to rub around your clit. naturally this caught your girlfriends attention making her eyes widen like she had seen a ghost, “what are you..doing right now?” she moved her eyes from the game back to what was sitting in her lap back and forth. but no, she couldn’t give you attention before she doesn’t need to now. “it’s none of your business vi..” you panted out of breath as your fingers started to linger deeper into your cunt, index finger that was holding your panties circling your bud. “pay attention to your game!”

at this point vi could feel herself getting wet in between her legs, slightly fidgeting around under you as her focus on the game became faint, the character in her game going idle and her teammates wondering why her mic went mute all while she watches you like a needy puppy. “im done now! please let me help you..” she sounded so whiny with her hands not knowing where to go, she couldn’t put her hands where she really wanted to and she couldn’t rub one out even if she wanted to. you were sitting on top of her. it was basically torture to make her sit and watch her sweet girl play with herself like that.

“s’too bad vi, shoul-shouldve played with me when i asked..!” and boy was she regretting it now, her eyes were glued to the inside of your thighs, messy pussy glistening from how wet you were and all your girlfriend wanted to do was dip her hands there and taste it. she knows how sweet you taste, god this was so cruel. “fuck..babycakes just let me touch you a little. hm? please i need to so bad.” the least you allowed vi to do was kiss and suck at your neck, dark spots forming and adding to your pleasure. her pleads might have worked earlier because she just sounded so cute but it was to late. you were already cumming, a thin layer of slick was on your fingers as your thrusted in and out of your cunt, messy hole clamping your fingers down while your legs quiver on vis gaming chair.

“f-fuck vi m’cumming!” and you do, with a cry as you rub your clit furiously and close your legs unconsciously from the overwhelming feeling. without a doubt vi was soaked by now and neglected. “that wasn’t fair..” she looks so cute when she pouts that you can’t help but give in, getting up from her lap to straddle your girlfriend face to face. “I didn’t mean to bully you vi, we can go again! hmm?” you say covering her face with kisses as vi rest her bandaged hand on your ass, nodding with you.

yeah no she was definitely getting you back for that.

#vi x reader <3 #vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane smut #arcane smut #vi smut #vi season 2 #arcane x reader #vi arcane #so so short but i wanted to post smth >.<#and it’s mega old

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writingslob · 2 months ago

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(Part 3) Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [YANDERE EDITION]

[TO BE HERO X] x [LIN LING]

[Part 1; Part 2 can be found here!]

Context warning: Cursing, falling

Author's note: Oh, thank god I'm done. This ballooned way past my expectations, so I'm really glad to be done! I hope you guys enjoy!

Once again, thank you @kiraisrika for the idea! [ And to my friends! if it weren't for their love bullying I wouldn't have finished so fast! ]

Lin Ling was awestruck.

His cheeks were on fire, and he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, but how could he not be!? His queen, his idol—his goddess—was standing right there! In front of him! They were breathing the same air! Oh god, he can’t breathe—

“Welcome to True Love Recipe at our live venue! I'm your substitute host for today, rank 249th hero in the Association...Eye of Truth, Enlightener!” Huh? Lin Ling turned to Miss Juan, and from her facial expression, he could tell she was just as confused as he was.

Enlightener continues, “Welcome, Nice, Moon. This show is called True Love Recipe. As the name suggests, behind every romance lie hidden stories not known to outsiders.” Miss Juan was growing more frantic, pointing and slamming her hands down on the table. He was stuck in an awkward spot to either go over there and help her or continue to stand behind the couch, waiting like a sitting duck. ‘Damn Nice and his puppy eyes,’ he thought to himself, staying put.

“So, today, we'll test just how much you understand each other.” Gesturing to them with his cup of tea, Lin Ling can now finally see the mask drop slightly for Moon, her eyes widening. “Nice, how many total commercials has Moon starred in? And what is their total runtime?” Oh, easy, 134 commercials with about 285 minutes and 48 seconds.

“What kind of stupid, nitpicky questions are those?! Is he asking for a fight or something?” Or not, judging from Miss Juan’s reaction.

After a beat of silence, Enlightener smirks, “Since your love is so perfect, I'm sure you wouldn't forget such details.” He goads. Getting a bit nervous for Nice, he clapped inaudibly to try to get Nice’s attention while mouthing the answer. ‘134 commercials with about 285 minutes and 48 seconds,’ he mouthed on repeat.

“In total…”

134 commercials with a total of 285 minutes and 48 seconds! C’mon!

“In total, there are 134 commercials.”

Yes!

Nice turned his attention to Enlightener, who stopped mid-sip of his tea to stare at him with shock. “They had a total run time of 285 minutes and 48 seconds.” Behind them, on the big screen, giant pink letters appeared, spelling out the word ‘BINGO.’ Lin Ling let out a stubble-sigh of relief. If he knew his fangirl's knowledge of Moon would come in handy, he would have started stanning her mouth earlier.

Moon turned to Nice, whispering something to him, but Nice responded loud enough that Lin Ling and the Mic could hear. “Of course, you are my girlfriend after all.” He says, his eyes empty as he smiles back at her. ‘Right,’ he thought to himself, with all that happened earlier, the fact that the Moon is his fake girlfriend slipped his mind.

Recovering from his shock, he pressed on, his confidence returning in full force. “For the second stage, let us play a game.” Suddenly, a little spot of light appeared on his chest before a string emerged from the spot, connecting Nice to a small machine in the middle. From the looks of it, it looked like a lie detector. “Truth or dare?” Enlightener smirks.

“Honesty is one of the most important qualities—”

“Dare.”

“Huh?”

Nice offered him an embarrassed look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but to answer your question,” There was a certain sharp glint in his eyes as he smiled at Enlightener, as if daring him to contest him on this: “I choose dare; I hope you don’t mind.”

Enlightener gritted his teeth, his smirk wavering to a scowl. “Well, Nice, I actually do mind. Before you so kindly interrupted me, I was just about to go on about how important honesty is in maintaining relationships, so tell me.” The scowl has now reverted back to his smirk, but he can’t help but compare it to baring teeth. “Is Moon really your girlfriend?”

Nice blinks, “Of course she is?”

All eyes turned to the machine. The machine spluttered for a little bit before a giant question mark appeared on its surface. “It’s…half correct?” The man seemed as confused as everyone else (excluding Nice), and at this point, Lin Ling’s lips were raw from how much he was biting them. Everyone turned to Nice for an explanation, but all he did was sigh, as if expecting this outcome.

“I wanted to do this in a more private place, like at the cafe we had our first date at, or at my apartment, but” he waved helplessly at the machine. “The cat is out of the bag, I suppose.” Standing up, he neatly dusts himself free of any dust before turning to a stunned Moon. Bowing at exactly 90 degrees, he looks her dead in the eyes as he asks.

“Moon, will you be my wife?”

Instantly, everyone in the room exploded in shock. Not even Moon can hide her startled “Huh!?” She backs away from him, her hand covers her gaping mouth. Nice smile at her reaction, gently taking both her hands into his own. “I understand if this is a lot to you, but,” Drawing back to his full height, he continues, “I can’t help it. I have fallen for you deeper and deeper every day, and it pains me that you aren’t fully mine, so will you marry me?”

“I-I-”

“Stop!” Enlightener screeched, slamming his cup down on the ground, “Don't get complacent just yet! There's still a third stage you have to pass!” Lin Ling held back on the ground. Of course. The heart screen door to the left cracked open, smoke billowing out, and in the white smoke was the silhouette of…a man?

The man stepped forward into the light, the smoke dissipating with each step he took. Lin Ling can feel his throat tighten up as he finally realizes who it was.

It can’t be… “Boss?” He muttered to himself. Nice snapped his head over to Lin Ling, but before he could say anything, Enlightener continued. “He was once an entrepreneur, but now he's been pushed into a corner like a trapped beast. He owes all of this to you, Nice! Nice, your entire hero persona is a product of his team's commercials! Not only that, but you've driven him to bankruptcy! You—”

“When are you going to pay me?” Just hearing his voice sent a shiver down his spine. When he was fired, one of the many thoughts going through his head was outside of ‘Holy shit, what should I do? I only have enough money to cover half a month of rent. I am so fucked—’ was ‘At least I never have to work, see, or even think about my boss ever again!’ Think again, past Lin Ling! Because there he is! Standing in… ripped frog armor?

‘What is my life?’ he thought for the 1 millionth and 1 time. As he questioned all his life choices and what led up to this situation, he failed to pay attention before a BOOM and CRACK could be heard. Whipping his head around, he can see Enlightener on the ground, rumbling surrounding him, and a crack in the pony wall behind him.

Snapping his head back to his ex-boss, black tendrils of fear began to swim around him as his face twisted in anger. “I can't go out of business. I don't want to go out of business!” His inky black hands were shaking with rage. Whipping out a whip made from fear, he bellows, “You owe me a final payment! Pay me!” His whip lashes through the air as he runs towards Nice, his arm raised high, ready to send a devastating blow when-

Nice punches him.

He is knocked out cold.

They were back in the van, speeding on through on the busy highway. Lin Ling had his eyes closed, resting his head against the cold windowsill. With such an anti-climactic fight, all the adrenaline has left his body, leaving behind an aching exhaustion. If it weren’t for the bumps in the road waking him up periodically, he would have fallen asleep right then and there.

Nice was curled up by his side, his face agitated. After confirming with Lin Ling that the man he punched was Lin Ling’s asshole boss, he was 1 second away from flying out of the car and giving the man a second round of ass-whopping. It was due to Lin Ling and Miss Juan’s combined efforts that they managed to keep him in the car. Lin Ling didn’t know why he hated his boss so much (perhaps he had experience with bad bosses before?), but he was too tired to ask. So now they ride in silence back to Hero’s tower.

Arriving back at Nice’s barren apartment, Lin Ling lazily threw his shoes on the ground haphazardly, and Nice picked them up and arranged them neatly near the entrance. “Do you have any pillows I can borrow?” He asked, yawning halfway through his question. His eyes were drooping now, and he desperately wished for a bed to crash on. A couch works, too. Honestly, the floor was also looking mighty tempting the longer he looked at it.

“Pillows?” Nice ask from behind, his arms pulling him back into his familiar embrace. “Yeah? I’m going to need them to sleep on the couch.” Nice stared at him before laughing. Lin Ling stares at him in sleepy confusion. If he had the energy, he would have rewound the conversation back in his head to see what he missed. But now, all he can do is stare at Nice so he can explain himself. “Silly little thing,” he coos, grinning, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I have a perfectly sizable bed we can use!” Floating up, he tugs on Lin Ling’s hands, leading him behind the statue toward a bed on the ground, surrounded by water.

You know what? Sure, why not? Lin Ling was too tired to fight. Nice as he pushed him gently onto the bed. Unconsciously letting out a sigh, his tired body sank into the feather-light mattress. He can hear Nice giggle slightly as he burrows his head into the pillow, and like an ostrich, he ignores him completely in favor of pulling the blanket over himself.

In one second flat, he was out like a light.

Lin Ling woke up gradually.

The first thing he could register was warmth. The second was someone behind him, their arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him like a teddy bear. It was… pleasant. Pleasant enough that he was about to drift off back to slumber if it weren’t for the sound of a camera’s shuttering and someone angrily grumbling to themselves.

“—Stupid Treeman company, stupid Miss Juan, stupid Nice. Lived with the guy for years and yet never once told me he had a boytoy.”

Nice, boy toy? What?

“—Miss Juan has to let me go now with these pics! Ugh, I can’t wait to revisit Bali and take a nice, long vacation there.”

Lin Ling slowly opened his eyes before immediately shutting them, hissing in pain at the sudden flashbang. The person—a girl—cursed out in shock at his sudden movement. He blinked multiple times, his eyes getting used to the bright room they were in. Once he blinked away all the blurriness, he looked to where the person was—

“Moon…?”

Moon blinks.

“Moon!”

Nice startled awake as Lin Ling jumped a good foot in the air, landing his ass in the cold water surrounding the bed. His heart was beating out of his chest, and the ice-cold water definitely shocked his system awake. “Moon!” Say something! “Hi! I didn’t know you lived here!” YOU IDIOT.

Both Nice and Moon are now staring, one concerned and one deadpan, at him. Lin Ling's face was hot all over, and he didn’t need a mirror to know he was blushing bright red. “Do you feel okay, Lin Ling?” “This is who you chose to cheat on me with?” They both said it simultaneously. Nice whipped his head in outrage at Moon held up her head while she looked back at her phone, clearly losing all interest in the conversation. “Save it, I don’t care, because!” Her scowl turned into a large grin, and a pop song rang on her phone. “That means I can leave!”

Miss Juan answers the call, “Moon, what is it—”

“MISS JUAN, NICE IS CHEATING ON ME; THAT MEANS HE BROKE THE CONTRACT, RIGHT?”

Lin Ling’s eyes widened as he desperately scrambled out of the stream of water. “Wait! No! We’re not like that!” He tries following, but with her quick strides and Nice pulling him back on the bed, soaking wet and all, he can only stare forlornly as she walks away, screaming into the phone. Or he would be if Nice didn’t put his hand over his eyes, blocking his sight.

Of course, “Nice, can you move your hand?”

Nice hums above him, as if actually considering the question at hand, “Would you continue to look at Moon if I do?” He asked, his tone playful but with a sharper edge. “I mean, yeah?” If she’s in the room and talking with him, what is he supposed to do? Not look at her? Nice hand tighten over his eyes. “Wrong answer!” Lin Ling groans.

“Can you at least let me go to the bathroom? I feel disgusting right now.”

Nice sighed, as if it physically pained him to remove his hand, letting light enter back into his world. “Fine.” He brightened up again, though, as he began to haul Lin Ling back onto his feet. “Let me show you where the bathroom is! Don’t worry, you have your own toiletries and everything.” Huh, he didn’t even think of that. Stepping into the bathroom, he had to admit it was nice, the white, futuristic, minimalist decor finally working in a room’s favor.

Looking at the fancy toothbrush holder, he spots a bright yellow toothbrush, sharply contrasting with the other two paler toothbrushes beside it. Squinting, he almost rubs his eyes because no way at’s—

“Is that my toothbrush?”

Nice nods. “Mpmh! We got it in yesterday!”

“...please get out.”

Shooing a stubborn Nice out of the bathroom, he quickly sped through his morning routine. (He grimaced slightly when he stepped out of the shower, realizing he would have to change back into his old clothes as he didn’t bring any fresh ones.)

Stepping out of the steaming bathroom, the white hung loosely around his neck; he was both half surprised and half not when Nice (who was apparently standing guard outside) lunged to his side before promptly attaching himself to him like the needy Koala that he is. He can see a few wet droplets dripping onto his white locks, but he doesn’t seem to mind, letting out a relieved sigh. “You smell good,” he mutters, digging his nose into his throat.

Before Lin Ling could even think up a reply to that comment, his stomach growled, drawing both their attention to it. Nice blinked at his stomach before promptly dissolving into a fit of laughter. It wasn’t even a polite little chuckle or even a giggle, no! It was a full-blown fit of laughter! Lin Ling could only stare in shock as the man laughed himself to tears, holding his stomach in for support.

“What—WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT!? I DIDN’T HAVE DINNER LAST NIGHT OKAY!?”

Nice held up his hand as he desperately gasped for air between laughter. After a full minute of this, Nice was finally able to pull himself together, wiping away the tears from the corner of his eye. “Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, I was just—” He sombered a little, pulling himself up to his full height. His arms were still wrapped around Lin Ling, but he couldn’t help but shiver slightly. “I just realized I hadn’t felt surprised in a long time.”

And if that didn’t break his heart. Hesitantly, he slowly pulled Nice into his own arms, reciprocating the hug. He can feel Nice’s body freeze, his hands around him like they didn’t know what to do.

“I’m here.” He says simply.

Nice was quiet for a second before, like invisible strings being cut, all but melted into his hug. “Thank you.”

Breakfast was awkward. They sat at the long dining table, Moon on one side, Nice and him on the other end. He was trying to enjoy his breakfast, but with Nice breathing over his shoulder and Moon alternating between glaring at Nice and staring at him hard like he was some kind of puzzle to solve, the food tasted like cardboard to him.

“So,” Moon starts, her voice cutting through the tense air like butter, “Your Nice’s boyfriend?”

Oh, thank god, a chance to fix this misunderstanding. “Actually—”

“None of your business, nosy. Also, your elbows are on the table.” Or it would be if Nice didn’t cut in, his tone colder than Lin Ling has ever heard it. Awkwardly realizing his elbows were on the table, he hastily changed his posture while Moon huffed, looking him dead in the eyes as she deliberately splashed some sauce onto his white shirt. He can see Nice’s eyes twitch, zeroing in on the stain.

“Uh-huh, anything else, your highness? Perhaps you would like me to cease breathing too, since it’s so rude and untidy.” The tension was back in the air, and it was stronger than ever. Nice rolled his eyes. “You leaving would be pretty great, actually.” He snipped back. This comment was what tipped Moon over the edge as she turned a bright red. Standing up and slamming her hands down the table, she screams, “AND WHO’S FAULT IS THAT!? I DIDN’T SIGN UP TO BE STUCK TO SOME POMPOUS, ARROGANT, ASSHOLE LIKE YOU! I—”

“Actually,” He cuts her off, slicing his Eggs Benedict perfectly in half. “You did. Deal with it.”

Holy shit. Lin Ling whipped his head towards Nice, his mouth gaping wide in horror. “Nice.” He hissed, horrified. Nice, like a liar, calmly turned to Lin Ling, his face the picture-perfect face of innocence that screamed, ‘I did nothing wrong ever in my life.’ “Yes?” His voice honey-sweet. Before he can tell him off for that line, because honestly, what the fuck was that!? The doors burst open, and out came Miss Juan, surrounded by the men in black suits.

Miss Juan took the chance to survey the room before nodding. “Good, you’re all here. We can get down to business then.” Pulling out her tablet, she continues, “Since Nice’s little stunt last night, you two have been trending on FOMO, so that means we have to capitalize on it!”

Moon's eyes widen in horror as Nice tenses, his hands tightening over Lin Ling’s. “No…you have to be kidding me.”

The shark-like grin on Miss Juan's face tells everyone that no, she isn’t kidding.

Wreck has been doing great.

His apartment was littered with beer cans; he doesn’t have the energy to get out of bed most days, and his phone has been glued to his hands 24/7 for even the slightest chance that Miss Juan or, heaven forbid, Nice himself, finally picks up theirs and answers all his texts and emails. (Most of them came at 3 am when he was drunk off his ass and desperate.)

When he was 22, freshly graduated with a performing arts degree in hand, and his best friend at his side. He thought they could take on the world together. Ha, what a joke. The minute Nice got popular, they tore Wreck from his side and tossed him away like he was just another piece of trash on the street. It’s not like he didn’t massively help contribute to Nice’s popularity or anything, he thought angrily to himself, rewinding the latest video of True Love’s Recipe.

It’s been months of Wreck sitting on his ass in his filthy apartment. (If Nice were still here, he would have wrinkled his nose before he smiled that smile that promised him hell if he didn’t clean up right this second. He would always help.) He was going stir crazy, and nothing helped. Running doesn’t help him (Nice would always complain, but he’d follow him during his route regardless), and none of the recent media has caught his eye (Nice loved shooter games and would deny it every time).

“I can’t help it. I have fallen for you deeper and deeper every day, and it pains me that you aren’t fully mine, so will you marry me?” THUNK The empty beer can slides pathetically off the TV as it glitches, no doubt because of his powers (Nice banned horror movies because of it, even though they were his favorite.) “Yeah right.” He mocks the screen. He’s about to grab the remote to rewind the video again when he hears a ping. A text.

Lunging for the phone, his eyes shake as he opens up his phone. Please let it be Nice, please Nice, please—it was Miss Juan. He sighs, dropping his forehead onto the phone. Fuck, he thought humorlessly, of course. Shaking his head, he opens up the test to see-

“HE’S GETTING MARRIED!? TODAY!?”

There was more, but his vision was blurred. 2 months. 2 months of no contact, no nothing with no prior warning, and 2 months of worrying and sitting on his ass, and this is how he’s supposed to figure out his best friend since diapers is GETTING MARRIED!?

Suiting up and running out of his apartment all went past in a flash. Civilians were screaming as their screens started glitching and buildings began unraveling, but he didn’t care. The only thing running around his mind was Nice and how he was getting married, and he didn’t even think to text him! Even if their entire relationship was fake, doesn’t he, as Nice’s best friend, deserve to know from the man himself!?

Before he knew it, he was at the park where the ceremony was taking place. The music was loud and grating, paparazzi and fans everywhere taking pictures, and ahead of them all, under a white floral wedding arch, stood him.

“NICE!” He roared, pointing his sword at him. All sounds around him fuzzed into background noise, and his vision tunneled in on Nice. He was wearing a suit, obviously tailored to harken back to his normal hero wear. It was white, with gold lining and a flowing, white cape. Nice turned to him gracefully, as if expecting him to show up.

“Wreck,” He greets back pleasantly, as if he didn’t ignore all his texts and calls from him for 2 months straight. “I should have known you’d crash my wedding. Just because you like Moon too doesn’t mean—” Oh no, you don’t.

In the back of his mind, he can vaguely recall a script attached to the text sent to him earlier, but he didn’t even open it up before rushing straight over here. Good. He thinks viciously as he swings his sword at Nice, rock tendrils sprouting out from the ground, splitting him and Moon up. He advances, lunging himself forward; he swings—Nice blocks it with his arm while the other comes up and tries to uppercut him.

It was a dance—a familiar dance of sweat and blood, of bruises and cuts. He knows how the song goes; he roughs up Nice, throws out some one-liners, perhaps threatens a civilian or two, but he would always let Nice shine. Let Nice have center stage as he dances in the background, propping him up. Nice always wins. They have danced this dance a million times; they know how this goes.

But, seeing Nice standing proud and tall and happy while he’s been sinking in worry. Something snapped within. Fuck the music, fuck the dance; he wants Nice to pay.

He savors the looks of surprise on Nice’s face as he tanks the punch—his sword slicing through his shoulder. Nice grunts, looking at him with newfound caution. He backs up, his feet off the ground, ready to fly. “What are you doing?” He hissed, Wreck’s laugh. Nice throws a punch; Wreck dodges. “Me? What have you been doing!? My texts, my calls, my emails—all ignored!” Before he can respond, the sound of a portal opens. Moon jumps out, kicking him in the head.

Moon’s saying something about lifelong regrets or whatnot. Wreck’s not listening. Because right now, right in front of him, a man walks over to Nice, concern clearly visible, and Nice smiles. It’s real. (He hasn’t seen it in years.)

His vision goes red.

“YOU!”

The ground erupts, rocks ensnaring the man in a cocoon. “Lin Ling!” Nice yells. Before he can do anything, the roots take them into the skies, far above the clouds. Moon joins them. Nice, Nice, Nice, standing across from him, angry. Out of all their thousands and one fights, Nice was never angry. He feels like laughing. He feels like crying. “Let Lin Ling go, Wreck.” He says through gritted teeth. His hands are balled up into fists.

“Not before you answer my questions, Nice.” Beside him, the cocoon cracks open, revealing the man—Lin Ling, bound together. He squirms, trying to get out of his restraint. He stills, however, when Wreck points his sword at him, the blade dangerously close to his neck. Nice flinches. “Who is he!? Why haven’t you been answering my texts!? Why do you look so…so” happy?

Nice looks away, his lips pressed to a thin line. “We can talk after this; just let Lin Ling go.” Wreck tightened his grip on his sword. He can hear Lin Ling gasp as it drew closer to his neck. Yeah, right. “And give you another chance to ignore me!? No. You are going to answer my questions here and now, or God help me, I will kill this man. Nice.”

Nice, flinched back as if he had been struck. “Don’t make me choose, Wreck.”

“WHAT!? SO BETWEEN HIM OR ME, YOU’LL CHOOSE HIM OVER ME!?”

His look gave him all the answers he needed.

He understands.

He’s been replaced.

He laughs.

27 years. 27 years of being friends, of being the person Nice turned to for support. When his parents kicked him out, he was there. When Nice went through his depressive episode, he was there. When Nice wanted to be a hero but was too nervous to do it alone, he was there. He was always there. Ready and happy to be his backup dancer. Because all he ever wanted was for Nice to be happy, in the spotlight.

But it didn’t matter. 27 years, and it didn’t matter.

“WHAT DID I DO WRONG!?” He screamed. “WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH!? WHY WASN’T I GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!?”

“No! Wreck! That isn’t it!”

“THEN WHAT IS IT, HUH!? I WAS THERE FOR YOU! I TRIED SO HARD, AND YET NOTHING. NOTHING I DID OR SAID COULD MAKE YOU SMILE YET.” He swung his sword at Lin Lin. “HE COULD. WHY WAS HE THE ONE TO MAKE YOU SMILE LIKE THAT AGAIN!? WHY COULDN’T I MAKE YOU HAPPY!?”

His parents were right, he realized; he couldn’t do anything right. He couldn’t even keep his one friend, the one light in his life, happy.

There were tears in his eyes, and he couldn’t see anything properly. His heart was both aching and empty, and it was all too much. With one last look at Nice, he dispelled the structures around them. Everyone screamed. Moon opened up a portal and clung to his side as everything collapsed between them.

The last thing he saw was Nice swooping in to save Lin Ling.

And then he fell.

#to be hero x #tbhx #tbhx nice #tbhx lin ling #to be hero x lin ling #to be hero x nice #emotional support civilian #tbhx moon #to be hero x moon #tbhx wreck #to be hero x wreck #yandere nice #Yandere to be hero x Nice #Yandere tbhx nice #Nicest #Nice x Lin Ling #Niceling

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huhmiya · 1 year ago

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FORTNITE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: you have been watching chris play fortnite for most of the evening, but you were bored scrolling through social media and he wasn't paying much attention to you. so you found a way to get him to notice you.

warning: smut, sub!chris, use of y/n, swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, ma, darling), blow job, slightly teasing, mommy kink, mention of blood, ass grabbing, cockwarming.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. this one is kinda similar to lipstick marks. I hate the new season of fortnite, wbu?

WORDS: 2.8k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange | matt - blue

You were sitting on his bed, scrolling through social media while he played Fortnite with his brother, Matt. You could hear them both speaking to each other through their mics, but Chris's voice was clearer since he was in the room with you, while you can only hear Matt's voice through the mic when he shouted.

The sound of keyboard clicking filled the quiet room as he focused on building and shooting his opponent.

"52," Chris exclaimed louder than necessary, prompting you to glance up from your phone to see that he had hit the opponent.

You observed Chris and his game, noticing his intense focus, while catching a whiff of his invigorating savage cologne from across the room, which made your knees weak.

"Touch grass, you fucking kid!" Chris grumbled after being knocked down by the opponent, leaving Matt to take over.

“Calm down, young man” Matt said after Chris spoke, making him just roll his eyes.

You chuckled quietly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes with a slight smile, finding it funny when Chris’s rages since he comes up with something random.

He didn’t hear your chuckle or anything because he had his mic on. As he watched himself lose two health points every second after being knocked down, he soon perished, eliciting a groan as he realized he had lost all his items.

You observed Chris remove his mic and put it back on once his hair was away from his face. He then turned to you and muted himself to avoid Matt thinking he was addressing him.

"Are you okay ma?" he inquired, eyeing you wearing his shirt with your own pajama shorts. You nodded, unsure whether to speak since he was still muted and you couldn't see him unmute.

He smiled, turned back to his gaming chair, and resumed speaking into the mic. "Could you grab my sniper since you have a free inventory slot?" Chris asked Matt. “Will do”

As the gaming session continued, it eventually reached 1 am. You found yourself bored and craving Chris's attention, but he only glanced at you briefly whenever he died without saying anything.

You place your phone on the bedside and sat up instead of laying down on the bed. You couldn't help but approach him and hug him from behind.

He gasped slightly when you startled him, but his heart rate returned to normal once he realized it was you. "Hello," he mouthed as he continued talking to his brother on the mic. “Hey,” you smiled and ran your hand along his shoulder, feeling the warmth compared to your own hands.

He leaned back in his gaming chair, still engrossed in playing Fortnite. You couldn't resist trailing your fingers along the veins in his arm and not hands since he used his hands for gaming.

"You seem to have a thing for my hands," Chris remarked, making you smile before pausing. Matthew fake gagged, already aware that you were with him, anticipating Chris's flirtatious nature. "No, please, save the flirting for later," Matt chimed in on the mic, his voice audible as you were close by.

"Oh, shut it," Chris said with a small eye roll. You stopped tracing the veins on his arms and just looked at him in amusement. His hands clicked on the keyboard as he focused on shooting a player in the game.

You kept staring at his hands, the PC, and then back at the screen. He continued chatting with Matt until there were only 20 people left.

"The fuck?!" Your boyfriend, Chris, shouted as he was suddenly sniped out of nowhere. Matt tried to build and revive him, but his structures kept getting knocked down.

Chris seemed a bit irritated but didn't do anything. You looked at him again, and he met your gaze. The stress in his eyes softened a bit when he saw you. "Stressed, huh?" you said to Chris, and he nodded with a faint smile.

You brushed his hair out of his face, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He watched you before taking off his mic, readjusting it like a headband again, and putting it back on. “Goofy hairline” you tease making him squint his eyes at you before shaking his head.

He looked at you once more before watching the screen in disbelief as his character perished, with approximately 260 seconds left to get his reboot. Letting out a sigh, he grumbled as he lost his loot once again, although he understood it wasn't Matt's fault.

In the background, Matt discussed the damage he inflicted on the opponent who had taken down Chris.

"Do you trust me?" you whispered, catching Chris off guard with the unexpected question, even though deep down he knew he did. "What?" he muttered before confirming, "Yeah, I trust you..."

A smile played on your lips as you noticed the confusion on his face. Moving closer, you positioned yourself between his legs, causing his heart to quicken its pace, especially when he noticed you pulling your hair up.

Unaware that his mic was still on, Chris whispered urgently, "Y/n... come on."

Although he realized he was still audible, he spoke softly, ensuring Matt wouldn't overhear. "Y/n, I swear," he murmured, reluctantly allowing you to remove his shorts, revealing his half-erect cock in his boxers.

He glanced down at you, biting his lip to stifle any sound as the cold air sent a shiver through his excited member.

"Are you going to say something?" You teased Chris as he was on mic with his brother, causing him to press his lips together before speaking.

"What was that? I was fixing my hea—" Chris was interrupted as you began to pleasure him with kitty licking his tip, causing him to grow harder and struggle to remain quiet.

"I said I'm going to the lavish lair to reboot you," Matt announced, but Chris simply hummed, his attention fixed on you and your hands.

"That's right, baby," Chris murmured, prompting Matt to inquire about his comment, but Chris brushed it off, focusing on you instead.

You increased your pace, then took him into your mouth, eliciting a wide-eyed reaction from him as he covered his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his pleasure. The sensation of your mouth around him brought him to the brink of ecstasy.

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to remain silent for Matt's sake. "D-do you really have to reboot me?" Chris stammered out.

"I'm not suffering alone in a top 5," Matt says as he goes to reboot Chris. He breathes quietly, more in pleasure from the sensation of receiving oral pleasure.

He watches Chris get rebooted, not wanting to play but seeking only pleasure, planning to then engage in intercourse until Chris forgets his own name.

Chris places his hands on the keyboard to resume playing, as you had instructed him to do, but his hands are shaky as he feels himself nearing climax.

"I found a legendary assault rifle for you," Matt announces over the mic, to which Chris expresses gratitude. Chris lets out a slight whimper and looks down at you.

It's evident that he is struggling to keep the fact that he is receiving oral sex from you a secret from his brother. Your tongue swirls around his tip, making his legs tremble slightly as he tries to focus on the game.

"The storm is closing in, it will take five health," Matt informs Chris, who simply hums in response without daring to speak, especially when on the brink of climax.

As Chris continues to play, you gently massage his thighs while pleasuring him. He can't help but moan, a sound that Matt overhears.

“You just moan?" Matt asked, but Chris quickly denied it before another moan escaped. He gave you a warning glance, indicating he was close, although you could already tell by how many times he twitched in your mouth.

Closing his eyes, Chris bit his lip, which bore the marks of his attempts to silence himself. His hands trembled as he grabbed your messy ponytail, making you gag on his member. He was confident that Matt hadn't heard anything, so he made you gag on him once more.

"Can I cum, please, mommy?" Chris murmured, gazing at you, desiring permission to release in your throat, finding it incredibly arousing.

He took a risk by uttering those words, as he had forgotten to mute himself. When you hummed, the vibrations widened his eyes as he came deeply down your throat.

His muscles tensed, and he bit his lip harder, feeling the intensity of his orgasm. In the game, he went afk, needing to muffle his moans once more.

You smirked and licked the veins on his shaft, savoring every last drop of his essence.

You lean back to gaze at him, noticing his vulnerability and weakness in that moment. He was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath, still feeling the lingering sensation of your mouth on him even though you had stopped.

Matt asked about his heavy breathing, but Chris simply placed his headset down, forgetting to mute himself.

"You're so beautiful darling," he whispered to you, gently wiping his release off your chin, causing your cheeks to flush as he chuckled.

No longer aroused, Chris shifted slightly so you were no longer between his legs. He lifted you onto his lap, ensuring you weren't causing him discomfort since he wasn't wearing any underwear, but neither of you minded.

"CHRIS!" Matt's voice boomed through the headset, causing both of you to glance at it. Chris let out a slight groan, then put his headset back on. "What?" he responded.

"We're in the top two, I need your help or we'll lose this game. I care about y/n and you, but please just assist me for now, and then you two can resume your playful, cheesy banter," Matt suggested.

Chris adjusted his position, ensuring you were more comfortable on his lap before diving back into the game, which seemed to stretch on forever for him.

"They're over there," Chris announced over the mic, using your head as a makeshift headrest, though you didn't mind. You observed him play alongside Matt, eagerly pursuing an opponent who was attempting to escape.

"Quick, oh my god!" Chris exclaimed as he and Matt gave chase. Matt managed to weaken the opponent significantly, exclaiming, "He's one hit!" Matt said so loudly that his voice carried upstairs to where you were in Chris's room.

In a triumphant moment, Chris landed a headshot with a sniper, prompting him to win the game and smile. "Headshot as well," he declared before embracing you and planting a kiss on your head.

You gazed up at him as he met your eyes, his hand resting on your thigh while you sat on his lap. Despite looking at you, he couldn't resist the desire to be intimate with you or have you ride him until he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Matt, I'm going to leave," Chris abruptly announced without saying goodbye. He shut off his computer, then kissed your lips and playfully squeezed your ass while you remained on his lap.

"You're so lucky I love you or else I would be pissed at you, pleasuring me while I'm gaming with my brother," he remarked with a chuckle, before engaging in another passionate kiss with you.

He let out a soft moan before breaking away to gaze at you. "I need you, make love to me until I forget my own name, please, mommy," he pleaded.

You smirked, brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to groan. Feeling his arousal grow beneath you as you sat on his lap, with him only clad in a shirt, you whispered, "Do you want to be taken by mommy, hmm?"

He nodded, his eyes pleading as he kissed your neck, attempting to arouse you in order for you to fulfill his desires. "Please, mommy."

The expression on his face revealed his desire for you, as you locked eyes with his captivating blue gaze, betraying his vulnerability because all he craved was you.

You removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, catching him off guard as he bit his lip in surprise, but refrained from any complaints. “Holy shit ma," he murmured, fixated on your breasts.

You playfully nibbled on his neck, eliciting soft whimpers of pleasure from him, marking your territory as he embraced you by the hips, undressing you further until both of you stood naked, except for his shirt.

"I belong to you, mommy," he declared, his gaze fixed on you as you withdrew from his neck, leaving behind deep purple marks that would be difficult to conceal even with makeup. "Good boy," you commended.

His desire for physical contact intensified, particularly as your skin grazed teasingly against his sensitive areas.

You removed his shirt with his permission, both eager to consummate your passion as he eagerly surrendered to your lead, yearning for the moment when you would be one, lost in each other's touch until all rational thought faded away.

He struggled to control himself, placing his trembling hands on your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His desire was solely for you, no one else but you.

As he entered you, a deep moan escaped his lips and he leaned back, resting his head on the gaming chair. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle your own moans as he stretched you with his considerable size.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure mixed with a bit of pain as you adjusted to his size.

"You're so good to me, mommy. Your pussy was made for me, I swear," Chris whispered, gazing into your eyes before closing his own as you began to move.

His large hands firmly gripped your waist, urging you to quicken the pace, his movements expertly hitting your sweet spot, eliciting more moans of pleasure from you.

Despite his lips showing signs of strain from his nervous biting, he let out a loud moan as you both reached a peak of pleasure and perfect synchronization.

He paid no mind to the possibility of his brothers hearing him, his focus solely on you and the intense connection between your bodies.

"Mommy," he whimpered, his blue eyes fixed on you in disbelief at the overwhelming pleasure. Despite his usual dominance, the way you made love to him drove him to the brink of madness.

As you continued, he found himself unable to decide where to touch you - whether to hold onto your hips, waist, breasts, or thighs - as his mind was clouded by ecstasy.

His climax was building, but he knew yours had not yet arrived. Despite struggling to contain himself, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Can I cum, please, mommy?" he pleaded loudly when he felt your walls tightening around him.

You bit your lip, nodding as you quickened the pace. He closed his eyes tightly, gripping the handle of his gaming chair as he released inside you.

You reached your peak with him, your essence mingling and dripping onto the chair as Chris tried to catch his breath from his release.

"Fuck... mommy," he muttered, still breathless. He caressed your cheek, both of you still recovering. "Darling...?" he hesitated.

You nodded but avoided his gaze, intending to stand up from his lap. However, he gently whined and persuaded you to remain seated, still connected to him.

He tenderly lifted your chin to meet his gaze, and as you did, he smiled and kissed your lips. "I love you, baby," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, brushing his sweaty hair away from his face, while he was captivated by your eyes in that moment.

A brief silence passed between you before he hesitated and considered asking you a question.

"Can we cockwarm?" he inquired, gazing at you with puppy eyes. You were willing, but mindful of the need to clean up. "Now?" you questioned.

He nodded and embraced you, knowing your preference for aftercare, yet pleading he speaks innocently, "Please, darling?" with a furrowed brow.

You rolled your eyes but relented, agreeing to his request before embracing him. "Only for a few minutes," you stated, and though he didn't promise, you both understood that he would likely prolong the aftercare session.

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yourlocalsmutwriter · 6 months ago

Text

IYCRTTBFO - Joel Miller x reader

cw: dbf! Joel is also a cam model, light(ish) daddy kink, creampies, at least two references to Wheeler Walker Jr. songs, big fat age gap

You couldn't sleep. It started at college, when you were working part-time while doing your masters thesis. Your night shift ended at 2.30 in the morning. Then, by the time you went to bed, you were struggling to shake off the buzzing energy. Your body was tired, and your mind was elsewhere. So you turned to the only true, tried and tested method of getting yourself to sleep. Masturbation. Low effort, porn video you've already watched, finger rubbing your clit, masturbation. It worked for about a week. Then your "sessions" got longer. And longer. You had to spend an hour now, chasing your orgasm. Begging yourself to cum. Getting more frustrated and then practically passing out like a log. You got good sleep out of it. But also it was getting painful. Your clit would hurt, a short stabbing pain taking your mind off of your thesis critique. Not that you were too keen on hearing about the feedback on your research model. So you were going to quit, cold turkey style. On the one hand, your insomnia persisted. Now you had replaced porn with your self assigned reading. But that did not help you sleep, just made you more cranky. Your cycadian rhythm was fucked beyond belief. So you moved through life half- asleep, always spending your days off napping. Morning meetings were rough and when you slept through an internship interview at 1, you knew enough was enough.

Back to flicking the bean to not be mean. You just figured you needed a change of scenery, so to speak. You considered OnlyFans, ready to be shelling out your hard earned cash for tasteful nudes (perhaps those of Markiplier or something like that). But that wouldn't be personal enough. You tried audio stuff, but the JOIs weren't really catered to you. Yes, they had your kinks. Or the pet names you liked. But never together, never quite enough. And call it conditioning, but you wanted something familiar. A certain Austin draw, a slice of the Texas you were far away from. But alas, your cowboy was not on Quinn or soundgasm. So you went old-school.

Girls like you weren't even supposed to know about camming sites. It was such a retro thing, more of your father's and Joel's generation. But it was thanks to the former's inability to delete a browser history that you were here. The landing page of the website was fine. You had to make the choice of looking at women, men, couples, or the trans category. Craving to see a solo cumshot, you click on "male". You should've expected that even here, it would be geared towards other guys, like most porn was. The tags of the rooms said it all. Anal. Fuckmachine. Party. But as you refreshed the home page again, someone caught your eye. It was a guy in a cowboy hat over his face. His tip goal was simple, promising a glimpse of him shirtless. It was the amount of tokens needed that amazed you, it was so high. Seriously, from your little time on the website, you could see this was a bit too self assured. But he was getting there. You clicked the video, morbid curiosity taking over. This and his username of thicktexanbeercan. A man after your own heart.

People flood in, apparently the red color of their usernames means they're part of a fan club? You wanna learn more, so you click through the whole thing. The "cam boy" or "cam man" or whatever you were supposed to call him was just welcoming people. There were other newbies like you because you were half-listening to him explaining about his mic.

"You can hear me so clearly cause I have it clipped to my neck on a fucking chocker. Which you guys should've let die in the 90s btw." You're looking at his tags of #monster cock, #daddy, #master and #orgasmguide. And when someone voices your thought of "some of us weren't even born in the 90s." you found out why. He reads it out and snorts.

"Look at you, so young and already a pathetic little pervert watching older men. What, daddy didn't love you enough, babydoll? So now you gotta come here at night and tune into me stroking my cock for you. Wishing you were on your knees, trying to take it in your bratty little mouth?". The donations explode. The sound effects of coins reverberate through your headphones. The goal is met and the stream has been on for only 15 minutes. You can't see him smile, but you can feel it, by the way his shoulders relax.

"You're such a good girl tonight, spoiling your old man. So needy, already wanting me to take off my clothes. I will, little slut, just let daddy take care of something first." He rolls his chair to the desk and takes his keyboard. You chuckle at the faded and yellowed stickers on it, they vaguely reminded you of something. The man can touch type and you've never wanted to be a pair of keys more in your life. The goal's adjusted, promising whipped cream on his chest. As he fiddles with the camera angles and wonders aloud how to best give you a show, you hover to his bio tab. The man intrigues you. Under real name, he put “Can't tell you, but my screen name is a pun”, so you guess it's Bud or even Sam Addams. His age is listed as late 40s, and when you see a glimpse of his salt and pepper chest hair, it makes sense.

This guy intrigues you. Instead of rubbing one out, you're scrolling further. There's pictures and videos. While there's one of him wearing assless chaps for free (which quickly gets saved to your phone gallery), the rest is behind a paywall. Videos of him cumming or even simple things like doing push-ups. Your palms are itching and you know your payday is coming soon. But before you end up buying a filthy mp4, you go back to the stream.

Somehow, he had made taking off a flannel sexy. Rubbing his fingers against his chest. Touching his happy trail. Then someone in the chat asked, "How much to see the good stuff?" He reads it out, chuckles, and presses a few keys, making a tip menu appear in the chat. It has the usual stuff, promises of flashing his cock or flexing his biceps. C2C and PMs (which you had learned stood for cam to cam and private messages). Then, was the more personal stuff. Nudes rating (5 photos), praise, degradation, ddlg. He clearly knew what people wanted. Was it what he craved as well, you wondered? Then came "the goods" the other person was probably talking about. Jerking off, cumming, even using a vibrator or a fleshlight on himself.

You wondered how long it would take to see the self-described "thicktexanbeercan.". But thanks to someone just as horny as you, if not more, it would be almost immediately. When the tip for "jerking off" came through, he said the person's username and then asked, "How do I thank you, using my southern charm or Austin dirtbag style?"

When the person replied with "dirtbag style," also my pronouns are she/they."he presumably glanced at the message. Probably keeping eye contact with the camera, he reaches for his belt.

"Thank you for being horny, I guess. Desperate little thing, that doesn't like to wait. Impatient darling, needing to see daddy pump his cock for you. Gonna show you exactly what you wanna see, baby.". The belt is on the ground and his jeans are around his ankles. Never did you think that a guy simply taking off his pants would be so hot. Your gaze trails from his delicious thighs to his boxers. Holy shit, even by his outline you can tell that his username isn't an exaggeration.

He pulls it out and it's the prettiest and biggest cock you've ever seen. His hand wraps around it, one slow pump he thrust into, back arching. Then he folds one arm behind his head and turns straight into the camera. You like the mystery, but wish he would show his face. His voice is breathy, he obviously likes what he's doing. And his thrusts are speeding up.

His chat is going crazy, tokens pouring in.

"You like what you see, huh? Bet you're aching to touch yourself, too. Go on, spread your pretty legs for me, and give me a show, too.". Before you know it, you're following his instructions. Pajama pants quickly pulled down, you touch yourself. And God damn, are you wet. You're fucking dripping, for this stranger on the internet. You don't have time to be embarrassed. You trail a finger against your opening, gathering the slick. Then you touch your clit, rubbing it slow and then gradually speeding up. But it's so much more intense, it's fucking electric. You glance at the clock on your phone. Look back at the man on the stream, his chest, his cock. And in a minute you're cumming. Eyes closed, pussy getting tighter and clenching around nothing orgasm. You close the stream, mortified. You go to bed and have the best sleep of your life.

By the next stream, you have an account, and you follow him. He acknowledges that, and you're tempted to already start touching yourself. But it's a Friday night, you've promised yourself that weekends are for yourself. Seeing that you pushed for Saturdays off, one would think you'd need to be up, bright and early, and going somewhere. But not this time. You had planned a slow day, where you catch up on laundry and read. But before the weekend was this. You caught on to today's stream a bit too late. Your cowboy (a middle-aged man that probably didn't know you existed) was already shirtless. He had a loofah and a mug filled with water next to him.

"One of y'all suggested I try temporary tattoos. Now, I had to go to the grocery store and get weird looks as I pumped quarters in a machine. So you better enjoy them. Or actually, if I find good ones online, I'm adding them to the wishlist.". He moves off camera and holds up two sheets of temporary tattoos, very tribal and barbed wire inspired. The other is surprisingly butterflies and unicorns.

He unbuttons his pants and lowers his boxers. You can see just the tip, straight as a ram rod. You can't help but wonder if he gets off on being watched. Your head gets filled with fantasies of him and you. Embarrassingly you're picturing him pulling out his pecker in a mundane place like Walmart and fucking you in the aisles. Maybe you just need to do better groceries, you think looking at the takeout bag from the restaurant you just spent 8 hours in. There were enough chicken nuggets in there to feed a family. You get your mind back in the gutter when the performer moans. You stare at the screen. His torso is covered in the temporary tattoo, and he's strategically placed the barbed wire around his nipples. As he drags the wet loofah against his pelvis, he groans.

"God, this is cold. Wish you were here, to warm up my cock. With your mouth or cunt or ass. Filling you so well."

This time, you come before he's even pulled out his dick. Yet you keep watching. A second orgasm gets squeezed out of you later, with the help of your dildo. When "beercan" reaches a crazy tip goal, he fucks his fleshlight. He's merciless, using the pocket pussy like a cocksleeve, whispering the most obscene stuff.

"You like that? You like it when daddy fucks you like this. Of course you do. You're so tight for me, yet you take my big cock so well. Trained you well, didn't I? Made my own little whore, that needs my cum. Beg for it.". And you do, miles away from this stranger. You orgasm with him, sex toy deep inside of you. He cums and makes the stream watch as he cleans the fleshlight with the same loofah he used earlier.

That stream basically breaks you. For some reason two intense orgasm equal a very productive day then. You're a new person. You study and work better and no longer need to fuck yourself to sleep. That you stranger whose name is Bud or Sam Addams or Miller. Not that you drink the latter anyway, so it never crosses your mind. After all, Joel is older, in his mid 50s. But what he's not above is lying on the internet. Using the world wide web to show his nasty bits to the world. And what he'd soon realize is that his best friend's daughter isn't too.

After finishing your masters thesis, you come to the harrowing reality that there's no jobs for you here. And then comes your dad's constant pestering to come home. You reject him at first. There's nothing left for you in Texas anymore, besides the family house. But then, a former high school mentor posts a job opening on their Instagram story. And it's perfect for you, aside from the fact it's in Austin. You off handedly mention it to your parents, after immediately applying. You don't expect to get it. But with interviews and all, you do. They even allow you to start a bit later, making sure you work off your part-time job shifts.

So you take the plunge and buy plane tickets. There's only one problem. The flight is so early that you'd practically have to leave your empty apartment at 4 in the morning. So you decide to pull an allnighter. You're not sure how you end up back on the chat room site. You don't even know if "thicktexanbeercan" still cams. But as you click on the page, you get a notification that he's in a live show. Feeling bold tonight, you know you wanna be a bit more adventurous. Call it what you will, but you need a shake-up. After so much uncertainty, you need to do something so out of character.

You feel the money in your pocket burns a hole in it. Yes, packing your stuff and sending it back wasn't cheap. Nor was the last-minute plane ticket (even with Spirit airlines). But you had sold a lot of your things, gotten your rental deposit back, and got your days off comped as overtime. So you were, technically, on the flipside. Now, responsible people would put that into savings. You were spending it on tokens. You wanted to be seen. So you tipped for "nudes review." Truth is, ever since your last partner in freshman year of college, it was a string of bad hookups and boring first dates. No one had seen you naked in a while. But that didn't mean you didn't have nudes. Nope, you liked taking shots of yourself in compromising positions. After all, your pretty lingerie deserved to be shown off.

So you mindlessly sent over 4 shots via the opened pm option. He moves a large IPad in front of his face to obscure it. His ever-present cowboy hat is moved to his head as he stares at your pictures. He strokes his cock, at his usual fast pace.

"Jesus fuck, darling, aren't you a treasure. Look at that ass, so perky. It would look good in red, after I'm done with you. Let's see the next one, oh, you're doing the hand bra thing. Need someone to fondle your tits, huh. Don't worry, I'd grope them for you. Put my mouth on them, tease your sensitive nipples. Fuck, let's see the third. Damn, you're stark fucking naked. What a little whore you are, showing me everything. Don't know if I wanna think about your boobs again or your hips or your pussy. Might just stick around and look at it. Only one more, okay. Fuck, that's my favorite one, doll. Even though you should've been more careful. You forgot to crop out your face. I can see your needy expression as you're rubbing your clit. Hand in your lacy black panties, must have been a special night. Who in their right mind would have let you go instead of fucking you right against the mirror you're using as a prop. Don't worry, I'll make it right. I'll give you a tribute, right here. How's that sound, darling? You want this old man to cover your photo with his cum in front of thousands of people?".

Any fear or shame you've had is long gone. You don't only want that, you need it. You type a "please, daddy" in the chat. His groan fills your headphones. He fumbles, balancing his hat on his nose. For the first time, you see a glimpse of his face. His tongue wets his lips as he zooms on the iPad, making sure that others only see from your chest down. He jerks his cock over it, painting his screen with spurts of his cum.

"That was intense, think I'll put you on hold for a bit. It's been a while since a first orgasm drained me like that. Daddy will be back soon." He says and pauses the broadcast. Truth is, his cock would be hard again in a minute. It was the fact that he came to you that was haunting him. His best friend's daughter. A girl who was younger than his niece. A woman who was coming back to Texas after leaving as a 19 year old. Then you were still awkward and Joel would never look at you twice. You were a child, for God's sake. But now, some years later you had shed your baby face. You were a fucking bombshell. And he was about to implode.

After a whirlwind rest of the stream, you go to the airport and catch your flight. Despite being a full-grown adult, your parents insist on picking you up. You're back in your childhood bedroom, surrounded by boxes of your new life. You notice that some stuff from before is missing.

"Hey dad, where's the old blueetoth keyboard we bought when the laptop was on the fritz? Might need it for work." You ask. You're sure you can easily write down notes on your phone or on paper. But there was something satisfying about hooking up your old iPad to a keyboard and typing. Maybe it's the fact that it got you through college twice that has you feeling sentimental. Maybe it's the truth that your parents didn't know you bought it, and now you had to use it daily to justify spending money on it. Either way, your dad replied with

"Oh, I gave that to Joel. He said he was starting some new call center job and needed it. Working on European projects, so he's always busy at night. Must pay a pretty penny, he's always got packages on his doorstep. You should see his new pickup truck too, she's a beauty." Your father said.

"Didn't need the whole prologue, dad. Can you just get it back?" You ask.

"Now come on honey, you're a grown woman. You can go over and ask him yourself. He's not gonna eat you." Your dad insists, and you have to agree. With a resigned "At least text him and tell him I'm on the way.", you go. There's no use arguing. You can not explain to your dad that when you were 19, you wanted nothing more than Joel taking your virginity. That now, years after, you still wouldn't mind a sip of that can of Miller.

One of the reasons your dad and Joel were friends was the fact that you could get to the latter's house in about 15 minutes. You're there in less, ringing the doorbell and waiting. Joel emerges in a moss green bathrobe and grey sweatpants. His hair is tousled, and it's obvious that he was sleeping. You'd feel bad if he didn't greet you with a

"What the fuck do you want, I ain't buying anything. Oh. It's you. Hey, kiddo.". Your eyes go to the mat on his front porch, but not before taking in his cock. Was he hard? Had you interrupted an intimate moment? You mumble something about "wireless keyboard" and "borrowing it back, please" when he leads you in. If he had a lady friend, she was as quiet as a church mouse.

"It's in the guest room. Had to convert into a sort of home office, after getting a desk job, so many years as a contractor. Got hard on my back. Wanted to enjoy doing nothing, then Sara got knocked up again. Just like Tommy, both of them can't stop having kids. So now I have to be rich gruncle Joel. And I don't know why I'm telling you this instead of just getting the keyboard." He says. Joel pops in, but he doesn't close the door all the way. Peeking in through the hole, it seems familiar. Like you've seen it before, but recently. You shrug off the deja vu and take the keyboard from him. But as he hands it to you, familiar stickers facing you, you piece it together.

"Thicktexanbeercan" had the same one. And you recognized it because you "decorated" it as a sticker obsessed teen. There was no way. Mr. Miller was not camming. You had not orgasmed to him dirty talking to you. And most importantly, he had not come all over a photo of your tits. It was just a huge, cosmic coincidence. But there was only one way to find out.

The wait until your first paycheck was too long, yet you had to endure. There is no way you were taking money out of your savings to fulfill possibly Joel's wishlist. So when that sum hit your bank account, you expertly navigated to thicktexanbeercan's page. Clicking on the shop icon, you choose to ignore that the man is selling his nudes, his underwear, and his socks. Though tempted by the Polaroids of his cock, you move on. You buy the custom temporary tattoos, a callback to a previous stream. Your pussy twitches at the memory and you're quick to suppress your urges. You send your "requirements" to the Amazon seller and hope they get them ready soon. You also secretly order some for yourself, shipping them to a friend's house. You start tuning into the streams regularly, watching them all the way through. Your coworkers have the grace to not comment. Especially since the nightly nsfw is always in the background of something else. So you're doing research on one screen, while listening to maybe Joel call you a nasty whore for watching him.

TGIF was never your thing, until this one. Your cowboy walked in with a package, his address dutifully scribbled out. He opens it and out comes the sheet of temporary tattoos.

"Oh, someone's been watching me for some time, huh. Can't get enough of me inked. Well, I aim to please, so let's get this show on the road.". Beercan undresses to his boxers and starts examining the tattoos.

"Whoever picked these out is one creative motherfucker. I like them.". He starts showing them off to the camera, chuckling about the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" and subsequently the "don't ride a horse, but I'm hung like one". But one in particular makes him tick.

"Your throat goes here? Really, sweetheart? You expect me to walk around with that, to make you all see it as I stroke my cock for you? Fuck it, it's my job to give you a good show." He peels off two of those and places them on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. Was he? He was. Thicktexanbeercan was gonna live up to his name, by using both hands to jerk off.

He's fast, wanting this to end. His Friday shows weren't that popular, so no use milking it. Now, on Saturdays, that's when most people tune in. It's better to save his stamina for then. But you and the chat had other plans. You had mobilized them as he was busy answering questions earlier. Now, he would get enough tokens for a cumshot. Maybe Joel really aims to please. So he goes for it, double orgasm, sure. Then, as soon as that one's over, another. He barks at the chat that he doesn't like being bossed around like that. But you have him cumming until he's shooting blanks. After he just shuts off the stream and goes to bed after running a wet towel on his stomach, to wipe off the cum.

Less than 8 hours later, there's a constant ring of his doorbell. He opens and you're standing there, looking so fuckable his cock stands to attention. You're wearing a skimpy outfit and your lips are shiny with a pinkish gloss. But that doesn't stop him from wondering why you're gracing his doorstep like an angel sent straight from hell.

“I need help picking out a present for my dad.” You say.

“Sweetpea, I know you've been away for a while, but that doesn't change the fact that your dad's birthday isn't for months.” he replies.

"I know. It's not for that. I fucked up and broke something of his. Can you help me?" You ask.

"Sure, what do you need from me?" He counters.

"I think I wanna be stereotypical and get him something stereotypically dad-like. Like a craft beer, something he can crack open with the boys. And since you're "the boys," I'm here. Need a recommendation for a thick Texan beercan." You watch him react. He twitches like a rabbit spooked by a stick snapping.

"So you know. But I'm sure your parents wouldn't be thrilled by the fact that you're watching porn. Have you ever donated, I wonder. Bought something with their hard earned money. Straight from your father's wallet to your daddy." Joel counters, not missing the way your eyes glaze over when he calls yourself your daddy. But you are not won over so easily.

"You're a liar. Late 40s, my ass. Late 40s when you last had to change your ID or what? I could expose you. I'm sure the girlies and the rest watching you would love to know they were scammed. Tinder swindler, but worse."

"What do you want?" He tries.

"As Lana del Rey said, put me in the movie. Let me be in a video." You demand.

"Come back at night, around 9. Get something to cover your face too. Don't need someone recognizing you." He says.

You follow his instructions like an obedient puppy. You make up excuses to your parents. Your cunt's shaved, your outfit is complete and you're not wearing underwear. Joel drags you in, literally. He looks at the pink cowboy hat you have in hand and chuckles.

"No saying my name, preferably not saying much. Just follow my lead, and I'll make you feel good. If you wanna stop, what do you say?" He lists clinically.

"Light beer," you say, acknowledging the pun behind his moniker. You should've figured this out way earlier.

He half laughs, half looks disappointed at your bad pun. You know he's gonna get you back for this , sooner or later. You just desperately hope it's with his dick.

Joel starts the stream. He makes you sit in his chair as he gets a bit closer to the camera. You can see him, mic clipped to chocker and all. He speaks to his chat, introducing you as a "special cowgirl guest.".

"Bet you all wanna take her place. I'm sure she can tell you all about it. If she can speak after I'm done with her anyway." He continues. You wanna protest, to bite back with a comment. But he crawls between your legs, placing kisses up to your pussy. And you are speechless. The fact that you can see him, dark brown eyes and gorgeous roman nose is too much. He's even revealing the top of his greying hair. You grip it and bring him closer to your center. He chooses to lick and suck your clit instead and you moan so loud, even the felt of your hat doesn't muffle it.

"Gonna make you extra wet so you can take my cock, doll. Would you like that?" He asks and you reply with "yes, daddy". You can hear him extra crisp, the audio bouncing around the room. It's all too much, every fantasy of yours coming to life. You come against him, riding it out.

"You ready for more, my little fuckdoll? Can I?" He asks. You plead, you tell him you need him.

Joel makes sure to zoom the camera to your sopping cunt, showing you off to the chat. He fiddles with it, making sure it captures your greed. He sits on the chair, swatting your ass to get you up. Legs trembling, you do. He unzips his jeans, the sound as familiar to you as a notification on your phone. He puts it against you, just to give his viewers a preview on how deep he was gonna be in you.

"You think I'll fuck her up. Make this pussy memorize the shape of my cock. Let's give this pretty doll her first cervix bruising, shall I?" He says. He slides his cock in you in one swoop motion, not caring about the stretch.

"Just like that." You moan, dangerously close to saying his name. Joel spreads your legs and fucks into you. He's all grunts and swears, gone is his dirty talk. His hands are grabby, squeezing your thighs. He's so pussy whipped that he says

"Let me come inside you. Please. Need to.". The "yes, yes, daddy" is enough for him to do so and continue thrusting in you until he's soft. Joel rolls the chair forward, "manually zooming" his camera. His audience gets a pretty shot of his cum dripping out of you before the broadcast cuts out. He helps you up and draws a bath. If the camming paid for the clawfoot tub you saw, hell you'd join in more.

"You know, what we did was wrong. But it sure as hell felt right. I'm not saying we should do this daily. But maybe instead of both of us getting off on each other from afar, we can do it together." He asks, almost a schoolboy confession.

“Yes Joel, I wanna fuck you again too. Now shut and let me enjoy my life after taking your thick Texan beercan.”

#dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #the last of us smut #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel smut

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diaryofavillainwhore · 13 days ago

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a/n; the messiest list I’ve ever written 😩

shigaraki—

twitch streamer / game developer / barely functional

🎮 twitch handle: @decaydaddy69

🎮 constantly rage-quits games, eats chips directly into the mic and never cleans his room.

🎮 somehow has a cult following of feral fans who simp for his unwashed energy.

🎮 side project: a creepy horror indie game that’s actually brilliant… if he ever finishes it.

🎮 regulars in his stream chat: dabi (trolling), spinner (genuinely supportive), toga (thirsting aggressively… for one shigaraki’s followers aka ochako 🤫).

—dating him would include ;;

🎮 you sleep with rgb lights glowing in the corner because he never remembers to shut off his setup.

🎮 he games all night, but drapes a hoodie over your head if you’re asleep in his lap to block the screen glare.

🎮 he constantly forgets to eat. you have to slide a plate of dino nuggets onto his desk mid-stream like a mom to a cryptid.

🎮 he once said “hold on, babe’s calling” on stream, then answered your facetime and let you ramble while fighting a boss.

🎮 he lets you wear his headset when you sit on his lap, playing cozy indie games while he trash-talks people in overwatch.

🎮 his chat is insane. they ship you two so hard it’s basically its own fandom.

🎮 they call you ‘decaywifey’ and make chaotic fanart of you cuddling him surrounded by cursed plushies.

🎮 you’ve appeared on stream exactly once, wearing one of his oversized shirts and drinking juice. he died mid-match because he was staring.

🎮whenever someone flirts with him in chat, he reads it in the most monotone voice possible:

“hey daddy, sit on my face?”

“…no. i have a girlfriend. she’d kill you.”

🎮 he codes shirtless at 2am with his hair in a bun and a popsicle hanging out of his mouth.

🎮 keeps whispering things like “what if the monster learns your name irl” then chuckles to himself like a goblin.

🎮 he shows you broken builds and asks your opinion seriously, then pretends not to care if you say you’re proud.

🎮 you voice one of the minor characters. it’s a creepy nursery rhyme ghost child. he swears no one else was good enough.

🎮 his room is a nest of hoodies, empty energy drink cans and four half-used lighters.

🎮 he sleeps in until 3PM, but will instinctively wrap an arm around you if you try to get up.

🎮 has one (1) emotionally destroyed stuffed animal from childhood that he keeps hidden under his pillow. you’re allowed to look at him, but not touch him… yet.

🎮 you once caught him staring at you while you pretended to sleep. he muttered, “you’re real. that’s so messed up.”

🎮 he doesn’t say “i love you” often, but when he does, it’s quiet, cracked and hits like a grenade.

🎮 he gives you one of his rings to wear. doesn’t mention it. just tugs on your hand when he notices.

🎮 twitch chat loses their collective mind the day he changes his bio to ‘taken. don’t be gross.’

🎮 he calls you his ‘respawn point’. “everything goes to hell, and i still get to come home to you. that’s gotta be a cheat code.”

🎮 his fingers still smell like his controller. he’s slouched, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, voice low and scratchy from hours of muttering into a mic.

🎮 he yanks off his headset, tosses it aside and drags his eyes over to you like you’re a new boss fight he’s been saving for.

🎮 “you were so fuckin’ distracting,” he rasps, leaning back in his chair, legs spread, watching you from behind red eyes and sleep-deprived hunger. “all i could think about was your mouth.”

🎮 he doesn’t like being touched by most people, but you? he’ll press you between him and the desk, groan when you tug at his hoodie, and say, “you’re gonna fuck up my focus.”

🎮 his hands are rough, calloused, long-fingered and used to keyboards and destruction, but they’re so gentle when they’re under your shirt, up your thighs, gripping your hips like you’ll vanish mid-load screen.

🎮 “sit on my lap,” he tells you, voice flat but his eyes say feral, “and don’t cum ‘til i say so. be a good little side quest.”

🎮 he keeps you on his lap during streams for fun, but after? after, it’s for ruin.

🎮 you grind on him while he murmurs into your ear how soft and dumb you look, cock already hard and straining in his sweats.

🎮 that gamer chair? it squeaks with every thrust. he loves the way your knees grip the armrests, how your moans echo in the same room where he cussed out league players three hours ago.

🎮 “bet the chat would donate a thousand bucks just to see you like this. cryin’, beggin’, full of me.”

🎮 “you like getting fucked by someone who hasn’t washed his hair in three days? fuckin�� freak. you’re perfect.”

🎮 he glitches you out. slow thrusts, then sudden snaps of his hips, fingers pressed against your throat like a restart button.

🎮 “can’t pause now, babe. boss battle just started.”

🎮 he’ll tuck you into bed in one of his oversized band tees, then shuffle back to his pc like a goblin to edit a new clip—while you’re dripping down your thighs in the sheets.

🎮 sometimes he crashes on top of you mid-sentence with his dick still inside. sometimes he’ll whisper, “remind me to code in your moans as the monster’s voice lines.”

🖤 conclusion = shig is messy as fuck. he doesn’t eat for three days straight, then only eats junk. he wears the same three hoodies and somehow thought dyeing his hair blue would be a dope idea. but guess what? under all that, that boy’s down bad for you. he’s your goblin, you’re his side quest.

#shigaraki #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #tomura smut #tomura x you #tomura x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia smut

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thesiltverses · 11 months ago

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A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline.

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try. This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well? People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end.

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*).

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite.

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

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hypernova-writes · 3 months ago

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Part of Your World [Ch.1]

Chapter one: Am I dreaming?

Pairings: OT9 X Reader.

Synopsis: After moving into your grandparents old home, you catch up with some friends and play some Tf2 before bed...only to wake up and find the nine mercenaries in your home...

a/n: I saw a thing that asked for more reverse isekai tf2 fics and luckily I had this one prepared as my second series to go alongside the Crown Jewel one! Hope you guys enjoy!

“Nova. Please you’re making it worse,”

“Sorry!..I mean at least you have alot of room to yourself..”

You huff softly as you place the boxes in your hands down. Your friend Nova was helping you move all your things into your grandparents home. The duo decided to up and move and gave you the option to move into the home.

A home with everything paid for, looks nice and spacious, in this economy?

Oh hell yeah you were taking it.

The two of you just finished setting down the last box down in your bedroom, Nova smiles at you before stepping back.

“Well, Do you need anymore help setting up, or do you got it from here boss?”

You glance around before looking back at her, “Ahh nah I think I got it from here Nov! I’ll call you later and we can hop on the game!”

Nova nods before she reaches forward to hug you before turning and leaving. “See ya Y/n!”

“Bye Bye! Talk to you later!” You respond as you wave to your friend as she leave out of your new home.

You close your room door afterwards and sighs as you plop down on the bed, you looked over to your pc and the small posters you managed to get up while Nova was still here.

The two of you met from playing Team Fortress 2 and became quick friends, you were already well versed in the fandom, the posters you had up were a few fanarts made by some of your friends and one you drew yourself of Scout.

You move to sit up and move over to your PC, you loaded up discord to send a message to Nova that you were ready to play.

-Hey Nov you ready?⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

-FUCK YEEAAA I WAS BORN READY- cough cough uhh..i mean of course! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

You giggle at your friend before you loaded up steam and placed your headphones on your head. You hum as you waited for the loading screen to come on and decided you would play at whoever was on your screen when you loaded in.

And today it was Scout!

-“Ready to go run in and die?”

-“PLEASE! Are you going scout too?”

When the two of you loaded into the match you could already tell this was going to be one of those long nights where the two of you goof around and not take anything seriously.

You two were even joined by two of your other friends and ended up just running around smacking people with the holy mackerel, not even caring that your teams were horribly losing.

This went on until around 12am before you eventually could feel the tiredness kicking in and you yawned a bit too loud into your mic.

“Oop, Y/n is on the train to sleepy time junction.”

"Shut up Nova…”

“Damn somebody eepy,”

“The missile is eepy and needy to sleepy.”

You rolled you eyes playfully before deciding that was it game for today and leaning back in your chain. “Alright guys, I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“Night N/n!”

“Nighty night!”

|“See ya!”

You hummed softly as you got up and moved over to your bed, not bothering to turn off your PC, knowing you had it set to go off on it’s own.

You turned down the screen brightness and climbed into your bed, placing your phone on the charger and finally settling down into bed.

“She’s hot aint she?”

“Ya know Scout, You might be right, she is a doll..”

“Don’t tell me we are actually agreeing with this idiot now?..”

“Mhm mhph!”

“Pyro’s right! We outta take a chance,”

“Right, Right, I vant out of zhis damn box! Besides..I want to see what kind of heart she has~”

“..Doctor..human heart different from what you give us. She may be fragile..”

“IF SHE IS FRAGILE WE WILL HAVE TO TURN HER INTO A PROPER WARRIOR.”

“Aye, Solly. Doubt the lass wants to wake up at 6am to the sound of a horn.”

The computer screen starts to morph and change, the lights flashing on Y/N’s sleeping body, as one by one, quietly the men start to materialize in her bedroom.

“Woah..I wonder what year this is…?”

“From the clock on the wall, I think its the year 2025.”

“That’s 57 years. You idiots brought me 57 years in the future,”

“Vell, first of all Spy. in her world ve are fictional characters.”

“Oi! That’s us on the wall over there!” Demoman moves over and points to the posters.

“Is that how they all see us? And why in the sam hills are our hands so big?”

“And why in the bloody hell is Scout here so much?”

Scout chuckles as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Seems like dollface over here has class~, need i remind you she played me last night with her friends?”

Spy rolled his eyes. “Yea, and kept dying. Halting our progress with stupid games.”

Medic was already hovering over Y/n tilting his head as he looked down at her, “My My, she’s such a heavy sleeper! You vould think she vould hear 9 grown adults in her room..”

Heavy looks around her room, “Seems like she moved, Maybe that is why little woman is tired.” He picks up one of the boxes and opens it, seeing plushies, before reaching in and grabbing a little bird one dressed like him.

He turns it over. “...Little..Pootis?”

The other mercs look through the boxes, all seeing merch of various types of them, posters, figures, plushies and buttons.

Spy lifts one of the Spy crab plushies up and tilts his head. “Seems like she’s a fan. You picked the right one Scout.”

“You complimenting me Frenchie? I must be dreaming”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Sniper glanced around before noticing someone was missing. “Oi, Where’s the spook?”

Spy rolled his eyes and Sniper shook his head, “ No not you! Pyro!”

Engineer pointed out of the door, “Seems to be making himself home, Speakin’ of which, we all should be doing the same, i’m sure when the little lady wakes up she’s gonna want an explanation.”

You yawned as you awoke from your slumber, rubbing your eyes and checking your phone seeing that it was 8:32am. You rolled out of bed and noticed your box full of tf2 merch was knocked over. You bent over to get it, sitting it up straight and putting your little pootis plushie on your bed.

That’s when you smelt something cooking.

You froze, because now you live alone, when you used to stay with your parents this was a smell you were used to…

But now you’re alone.

Grabbing a baseball bat that was leaning against the wall, (one that you dont even remember buying, but hey that’s another problem for another day-) You made your way down the hall into the kitchen, and to your horror.

You heard multiple voices.

So now you were slowly creeping forward trying to make a plan in your head as you walked up. You noticed a hard hat on your dining room table along with a fucking FLAMETHROWER.

God you were ill equipped to deal with who ever the hell to enter your home...

You could hear someone with a southern accent speaking so someone else who sounded like they were speaking through a mask.

But right when you rounded the corner you came face to face with a man, dressed just like the Medic from Team Fortress 2. Like from the coat to his boots, he even looked like him too…

The male smiled brightly at you, “Ah! Our little Frau has awoken! Come come you can put down Scout’s bat, we won't hurt you at all…” You look to the bat in your hand and realize that it did look like the one you had equipped to Scout in your game.

You dropped it out of surprise and the noise summoned the two from the Kitchen, which you discovered to be Engineer and Pyro.

“h..How...are you..? You guys aren’t supposed to be real!?” You rightly questioned and Engineer chuckles.

“Well we are as real as ever, Sugar. We could see you every time you loaded up the game there.”

“Engineer here is correct! We could see you and hear you too!”

“Mhoph hmph!”

You tilt your head before turning a bright red, This means that they have seen you walk in to play the game in just your bra and panties, and then proceed to say the most atrocious things about them for the amount of time you happen to game.

“W-well..where is the others..?”

“Oh they’re in the livin’ room darl’ tryin’ to figure out how your television works.”

You decide to go look, with Pyro following behind you and low and behold, There was Scout, Demoman, Soldier and Sniper all on your couches watching what seemed to be some sports game.

Scout was the first to notice you and he jolted up with a smirk before coming over, “hey there toots~! Nice to finally see ya in person, I see you like me a lot!” He walks up to you and wraps his arms around you.

"I think me and you are gonna become good friends?~ Specially since im your favorite~"

You freak out a bit, and before you could push him away, Spy does that for you, by pulling him off of you.

He and Heavy walk in with bags in his hands..and your car keys.

“Where did you?”

“To the store, We were going to cook you breakfast to explain things but it seems you woke up a bit earlier than we expected.” Spy explained as he pulled Scout to the side, ignoring the pout that the 27 year old had.

“You are a special one. We felt connected to you and your friends through game. But we chose you.” Heavy explains and you nod slowly as they guide you to the kitchen and sit you down at the table infront of a well made breakfast.

That was probably what you were smelling when you woke up. You looked down at the food, before giving them a sheepish grin. “a..ah..thank you..I guess..this is still all..jarring you know..” you began.

“All my favorite characters are real now and staying with me..I feel like i am dreaming.”

Medic leans over with that wide grin of his, “Do you need someone to pinch you?”

“No thanks..just give me a moment alone to process this..you guys feel free to roam and set up how you would like..” you say and the 9 males nod all together before all going in different places of the house.

You looked down to see the pancake had a cute smiling face, probably drawn with syrup by Pyro, you gave a small smile before you sighed.

Maybe this is all a dream that you could wake up from, that they aren’t really real, and that you have to explain to your parents why the hell do you have 9 grown ass adults dressed as mercenaries living with you…

Yea. lets hope it’s one.

AHHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED

as I stated earlier, I saw this while i was scrolling trying to find motivated to finish this fic, and seeing that people wanted more reverse isekai tf2 stuff, I hope I could deliver with the fun first part to this series!!

- [Next]

#tf2 fandom #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfic #tf2 #team fortress 2 x reader #team fortress 2 imagines #scout x reader #pyro x reader #soldier x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #engineer x reader #spy x reader #sniper x reader #medic x reader

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chaos-chloe · 7 months ago

Text

A Night of Laughter

Summary: A Clooless Sleepover

TW: Flirting, kisses, sexual innuendo

“Welcome to the Sleepover Stream.” Puffer said switching the computer screen over to the camera. Show the setup of the couch, Grizzy all the way over to the left, then Puffer and Droid in the middle, then Pezzy on the end on the right side of the couch.

“Goodnight””Yeah goodnight” was heard from all the boys around. “Now, we will have ___ join u later, she is just at work at the moment, you know saving lives and shit” Puffer says with a lovey-dovey smile while looking at his phone, most likely the text message between them.

“Also, we are stating this now and it is a command in chat, !____, she is a cuddler, she is always cold, she is a friend to all of us, we are NOT dating. You will see that she will pick someone when she joins us, to start off the stream and could change within the night.” Puffer explains to the stream so no will start anything crazy. “Yeah, it will be like we pass her around, but not like that dudes.” Droid pops in laughing at his statement and everyone else joins in.

“She texted me about 5 minutes ago, that she is on her way home now with food, possibly if the restaurant is open, if not she will call one of us.” Grizzy pipes in as he is checking his phone, to inform the guys and chat.

“Alright now that is out of the way, mods you know what to do with messy chatters, anyway I don't have anything else to say but “goodnight”; but yeah, no one looks at my ass I gotta lay down.” Puffer walks over to his assigned spot to get comfy and try to sleep.

“It is a full moon ladies and gents.” Droid talks into his blue mic, and then everyone starts talking over each other to make sure that the stream could hear everyone.

“I was not joking, 4 dudes, 1 girl, later on, one couch made into one bed. We are all snuggly and cuddling.” Puffer says. “You know the whole deal-uh-mods, can you update the ‘!media’, it is a $10 deal. You know the whole deal-uhh-we will be here ‘till 6a.m, probably, that's probably the whole deal.”

“Your monthly prices are increasing, Netflix, NOOO!” Droid screams as a joke. “Oh, it's fine ___ pays for it.” Pezzy shrugs it off with a laugh.

Outside, the full moon cast a soft glow through the curtains, illuminating the laughter-filled space where the four boys now prepared for a night of friendly chaos. Just as whispers turned to the soft crackling of a bag of chips,a notification chimed on Puffer’s phone.

“Hold on, boys! Looks like she’s here,” Puffer exclaimed, sitting straight up on the couch. “Let’s welcome our special guest!”

Moments later, the door swung open, revealing you, their friend with your arms happily burdened by takeout bags. You had warm, bright energy, and though you were tired from saving lives during your shift, your excitement about the sleepover helped wipe the exhaustion from the majority of your face.

“Hey, everyone! You guys better have saved me some snacks!” you teased, setting the bags down with a flourish.

“Never! We starved ourselves for you!” Grizzy said dramatically, clutching his stomach in an exaggerated manner.

With playful nudges and laughter filling the air, they welcomed you to the couch as everyone settled in with their food. Soon enough, the stream chat exploded with welcomes and requests for their own food critiques, and you happily obliged, sharing your favorites while making the occasional snarky comment about how these guys lived on junk food alone

“Okay, I need a quick shower and a change of clothes, I need my pajamas.” You say walking out of the frame, going upstairs towards the bathroom with the nicer shower.

As you made your way upstairs, the sound of laughter and lighthearted banter drifted up from the living room, filling your heart with warmth. Your friends had transformed their cozy, cluttered house into a makeshift living room entertainment hub, complete with gray cushions piled on an oversized couch, and takeout in the background spread all over the counter in the kitchen.

You chuckled to yourself, thinking about the chaos that had unfolded earlier. The reactors—your friends—were skilled at creating a sensational atmosphere, drawing in viewers from all corners of the internet. But you need a moment of solitude before diving back into the social whirlwind, and you relish the thought of slipping into your most comfortable pajamas.

The bathroom reflected your style—a blend of cozy warmth and cold decor. The walls were adorned with different towels, and a collection of rubber ducks lined the back edge of the sink, each representing a different inside joke shared among friends. After a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy robe but your heart raced with excitement at reminiscing about the delightful chaos downstairs.

Once dressed in your pajamas—a vibrant silk pair decorated with a cherry blossom print—you took a moment to look in the mirror. “Alright, showtime,” you whispered to yourself, towel drying your hair. With all the anticipation bubbling up inside, you made your way back down the stairs.

As you were coming around the corner, you ran into a green fluffy chest. It was Droid in his lucky charm care bear onesie that he was matching Pezzy. You grabbed his left arm so you wouldn't fall back on the stairs. He grabbed your elbow that was holding onto his arm, and his other arm quickly grabbed your left hip to give you extra support.

“Well, well don't you look gorgeous in those pajamas, babes.” Droid flirts with you, as your face turns into a tomato.

“Oh, stop it. These pj’s are nothing, this is my favorite set though” You say with a silly slap on his arm as you let him go. You walk past him, to head back into the living room, to be met with the rest of the guys just chilling.

The living room was filled with the atmosphere of friendly chaos, laughter bubbling up like a fizzy soda. The vibrant lights of the TV flickered energetically as Buzz Lightyear's theatrics continued to blast from the speakers. You shot a sideways glance at the trio that surrounded you, their faces oscillating between amusement and mischief.

“BUZZ LIGHTYEAR- THE WORLD'S GREATEST SUPERHERO! THE WORLD'S GREATEST TOY!!”

“Jesus, what the hell was that?!” I yelled after almost dying from a heart attack, my heart still beating out of sync.

“Oh, ___ that is the cursed Buzz Lightyear that Puffer talks about.” Pezzy says, still looking at the TV screen. “Ooh look at __-she looks so pretty-love that set- what are yall on about” Pezzy, Puffer and Grizzy all turned their heads to look at me looking at the screen, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them.

Droid, ever the smooth talker, walked back into the living room, his green fluffy onesie puffing out in all the right places. “Cursed or not, that Buzz has got nothing on your designer sleepwear,” he quipped, his eyes glinting with playful mischief with a wink as he climbed over the couch in between Puffer and Pezzy.

“Designer?” you shot back with a smile, retrieving your phone from your pocket, half-expecting to land a lighthearted jab at him. “I think you meant ‘Off Brand-Tik Tok Shop pajamas’.”

“Oh, come on, don’t sell yourself short!” Grizzy chimed in, his wide grin nearly splitting his face. “That set is practically a fashion statement. I mean, who else could pull it off quite like you?” Grizzy was eye googling you as if he was in a trance.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help cracking a smile. As the banter flew, you stepped further into the living room, trying to escape the fiery blush that was still coloring your cheeks.

“Just for that compliment, you are getting the cuddles first Grizz, move over Puffer.” You say, walking in front of the camera, so you can get comfy. Grizzy opens his arms and pats his chest so you lay your head on him.

As you settled into the inviting embrace of Grizzy, the warmth of his heavy blanket enveloped you like a soft bed. The moment felt both cozy and slightly silly, especially with the anticipation of the next loud notification or media share to go off on stream.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Puffer protested, dramatically crossing his arms and pretending to pout. “I was totally first to claim the first cuddle!”

“Welp, Grizzy was the first one to compliment me, so you should have spoken faster.” I say giggling, while snuggling into Grizzy’s side, he wrapped his arm around me where his arm was resting down my back and my leg was propped up on his legs.

“That's gonna be a long ass outro-” “Why is there special?” Grizzy interrupted me as the next media share popped up on screen. “Aye-ya-ya” Grizzy shook his head in disappointment, but then enjoyed the vibes that the song brings. He started banging or shaking his head left to right while he picked up my arm to join him.

Puffer than exclaims, “Bro can you get comfy!?” as he throws up his right hand in offendness. “I got a lot of things.”Droid responds, not giving two-shitsas he was grabbing his stuffed animals and pillow pet, Jerry/Jeffery.

“Why do you have so much shit?” Puffer asked in a tone of “what the hell my guy” “This motherfucker got too much shit.” “You have 1,2,3 toys with you” Puffer counts as he picks up the bear wearing blue and throws it at the end of the couch.

“NO, that’s tippers, no tippers.” Droid yells in shock retrieving tippers, “That one is personal bro.” Grizzy jumps into Droid’s aid. “Yeah dont hurt tippers again puff.” I say reaching over to Droid, unfurling from Grizzy.

“That one is not from Target, that one is from family memories-Whoa, whoa whatcha doin?” Grizzy says being caught off guard from Puffer lifting up the blanket, revealing that Grizzy’s hand migrated down from my back to my ass.

“I was testing it but what are you two doing?” Puffer says slightly offended Grizzy, making playful assumptions. “Cuddling.” Grizzy said while tucking the blanket underneath me since Puffer made me cold while lifting the blanket. “Hey now, I was cuddling with my teddy bear so shush it.” You say with a big smile on our faces as Grizzy was laughing at my innocent play on his name.

“When's the orgy? We could do it right now.” Pezzy read a comment in the chat and answered like his life depended on it. “Huh?” “Nah, that's for a different stream, different shoot.” Droid says calmly shutting that comment down. Grizzy tilted his head down to whisper in your ear, “You know he ain't wrong.” He looked at you, like you are a five star meal. Your face lit up like the night sky, after you fully comprehended what he was talking about. “You are right, but who got us caught in the first place?” playing snipping back at him with a small wink.

“Chat, it's 8:30 p.m we are not going to bed yet.” Puffer sniped at chat, “Mmm who's not going to bed?” Grizzy asked into his microphone. “Damn i had my head lean back, eyes closed, ___ laying on me, I’m ready even though i woke up 3 hours ago.” You shook your head and closed your eyes, snuggled closer to Grizzy. As the soft glow of the screen illuminated the room, you drifted deeper into slumber, feeling Grizzy’s gentle presence wrap around you like an additional layer of comfort. The cozy kingdom was alive with voices, jokes, and the occasional burst of laughter, but the soothing hum of camaraderie worked its magic, and your eyelids feel heavy. Grizzy lifted the blanket up blocking his face and yours, he did it to make sure you were all tucked in and to give you a kiss on your head.

“Who’s gonna fall asleep first?” Pezzy read off a chat

“Looks like we have a winner already,” Puffer said with a theatrical sigh, his voice teasing and light. “We should've made a pool for money instead of sleep cycles.”

“Can you imagine the chaos? We might as well place bets on who’ll bring the snacks next!” Pezzy chuckled, glancing over at Grizzy, who was still keeping you tucked in together. “But seriously, was anyone expecting ___ to be the first to crash? She's practically a professional napper!”

Grizzy couldn’t help but beam at that remark, glancing down at you with a smile that made his eyes twinkle. “I don’t think it’s her fault at all,” he replied softly, brushing a stray hair away from your forehead, “Work this week has been brutal, and I think she deserves every peaceful moment she can snag.”

“Oh, we see what you’re doing, Grizzy! Trying to earn some brownie points, huh?” Pezzy snapped back, tapping the table dramatically, earning a round of chuckles from the others.

“Not brownie points, but maybe brownie treats later?” Grizzy leaned back into the couch, aware that the usual dynamic of friendly banter was in full swing. He felt proud to be part of the group, though mostly for the reason that they charged the room with laughter and silliness.

“You’re kind of the poster child for cozy tonight, my friend,” Droid chimed in, adjusting his position to lean forward a bit. “I mean, look at you! Snuggling a human burrito over there while the rest of us are…you know…hustlin’ for superiority with snacks.”

In that instant, the atmosphere shifted slightly. Everyone turned their attention to you, your face partially concealed behind Grizzy’s blanket fort. Laughter morphed into softer, gentle smiles as the affection grew palpable.

“Look at her—no care in the world,” Droid said, the hint of admiration framing his tone. “That’s what we’re all running toward, I think—a moment of peace amidst the chaos.”

“Exactly! So let’s make sure that they don’t fully ruin it until she wakes up from a jumpscare.” Grizzy asserted, his voice gentle yet firm, maintaining the protective energy that had become a part of your evening slumber.

“Aye mods, that was a $3 one, nuh uh we ain't doing that.” Puffer disciplined mods, “Wait, did i not save the changes, did it save at $3?” Puffer was talking out loud, while scooting forward to look at the laptop setup settings. As he was scooting forward, ___ fell into the space in between her and Puffer, which ultimately made her snuggle into Puffer’s warm spot. Then a media share went off, sent Puffer back in shock and he ended up landing on ____.

A startled gasp escaped your lips as Puffer’s unexpected weight landed on you, the warmth of the cozy blanket now doubling in heat. The sudden shift jolted you awake, eyes blinking rapidly as you took in the comical chaos that had just unfolded.

“Whoa! Puffer! What in the world?” you half-laughed, half-yelped, your heart racing. You felt like a caught fish, sandwiched between Puffer’s vibrant laughter and the remnants of your dream.

Puffer leaned more onto you as a joke, a wide grin stretching across his face, “I swear, that was not part of the plan! It was the mods’ fault—totally their fault!” He gestured dramatically, as though blaming an invisible foe for the mishap.

Still groggy, you rubbed your eyes, trying to reorient yourself to the dim light of the cozy spot. Grizzy chuckled beside you, the warmth of his arm still lingering, “Looks like you officially lost your first round of the Cuddle. Puffer just shrekted you!” Puffer got off of you and fixed the media share cost on the settings. After he saved the changes, he saw his new dilemma of you now being his cuddle buddy. He got situated in a new spot, and dragged you over into his left side, got you into the same position as earlier but with Grizzy.

Pezzy standing up from his cozy spot and striking a pose like a game show host. “And for our next enchanting act, we have ‘Puffer and ____ vs. the Legendary Media Share’! How many times can they be surprised before bedtime?”

“That’s a highly questionable title!” you protested, your eyes still adjusting to the light. “Shouldn’t we call it ‘Sleeping Beauty vs. Puffer’s Clumsiness’ instead?” “He gets scared more than anyone else, I wouldn't be surprised if I move within 10 minutes.” You say groggily, trying not to yawn.Yet, the moment his attention turned to adjusting his position, you felt the heat rising. Puffer, with a swift motion, had adjusted you perfectly into his space. You were now practically sprawled on top of him, the cozy blanket shrouding both of you in softness.

The cozy ambiance suffused the space, wrapping each of you in the warmth of friendship—and a tinge of something deeper. As Puffer’s lips brushed your forehead, his soft whisper hung in the air, “We could just stay like this forever and not move.” With those words, everything felt suspended in a perfect moment—a bubble that seemed to hide you both from the outside world.

But soon, reality crept back in, whimsical in its way. You giggled softly, “I agree, but I know within the next five media shares, you will jump multiple times and I will get annoyed.” With a playful spirit, you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

Every few moments, the cozy fort filled with the soft background noise of laughter and chatter, punctuated by the hum of technology. You found yourself drifting in and out of sleep, half-awake and still enveloped in that delicious warmth, lulled by Puffer’s presence.

Then, as if on cue, the next media share began: an old video that had seemingly become a legend among your group—the classic AAA battery scare. You barely had enough awareness to brace yourself. Just as the video intensified, the chilling build-up reached its climax, and in true comedic fashion, an abrupt and bass-boosted scream blasted from the speakers, shaking you from your slumber.

Puffer’s reaction was instantaneous. It was like watching a startled kitten; he flinched fiercely, his body jerking from the shock. His hips shot up from the couch—directly colliding with yours. You hadn’t seen that coming, and the unexpected shift made you gasp, which unexpectedly slipped into a moan before you could catch it.

“Oh! Uhm… I mean—” you scrambled to cover yourself up, attempting to transform the sound into a groan of dissatisfaction. “Why does this always happen?!”

Puffer’s eyes were wide, shock mixing with something else as he stammered, “I—uh—wow! That was unexpected!” His cheeks had taken on a deep shade of crimson, a comical juxtaposition to his otherwise bold nature.

Grizzy, catching the situation, erupted into laughter, nearly doubling over, “Did that just happen? Puffer, you’ve officially shrekted ____ again!”

“Shrekted" is NOT a verb! Stop that!” you protested, though your own laughter bubbled to the surface, unable to resist the charm of the moment. You pushed lightly against Puffer’s chest, movement still affectionate even as your heart raced. “I’m fine, really!”

Puffer chuckled, leaning back slightly, a teasing glimmer in his eye. "Sure, you are! If by 'fine' you mean completely flustered and unable to string together a coherent sentence," he shot back playfully, enjoying the light banter between you. The corners of his lips quirked up as he regarded you, his chest still buzzing from the scare, but now accompanied by a distinctly different kind of adrenaline.

“Okay, okay, maybe that’s true,” you admitted, the heat rising in your cheeks as you tried to dodge his playful gaze. Your heart raced not just from the shock of the video but from the fuzzy warmth of being so close to him. “But you have to admit that was a shocking surprise!”

“Oh, I’ll definitely admit that,” he replied, a mock-serious tone underscoring his words. “But can we just appreciate the real surprise? It’s not every day you accidentally fuse cuddling with an accidental collision of our hips!”

Your heart was racing and your face was heating up with fire, “You know what, Imma call it here. Imma rolls over and claims Droid as my next victim to cuddle with.”

Puffer burst into laughter, his dark curls bouncing as he tilted back, clearly entertained by your dramatic declaration. “Oh no! Not Droid! Anything but that!” He feigned horror, clutching his chest. As you shifted your position and draped yourself onto Droid, pulling him into a warm hug, Puffer’s laughter echoed behind you.

Droid grinned, looking between you and Puffer. “You just made the right choice. I have unlimited cuddles available, and I promise they come with complimentary warmth and safety!” His tone was light-hearted, and the comfort radiated from him as you nestled deeper into his side.

“Don’t worry, Puffer,” Droid assured him, placing a reassuring hand on your back. “I can share my cuddle time! There’s plenty of warmth to go around. Besides, I’ll make sure to wrap you in soft blankets if you get too scared again.”

With laughter bubbling in the air, the atmosphere morphed into one of joy and connection. Your playful exchange transitioned effortlessly into a comfortable mellow where you found joy in just being close, knowing that this was the somewhat perfect evening.

“Friends with benefits, am I right?” Droid talked softly into your ear, glancing your way, his eyes sparkling with glimmer. “Now we’re really getting into dangerous territory!” you shot back with a gentle smile, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you again. Cuddles were one thing—implied ‘benefits’ was a whole other ball game. “I mean, we could go to that territory, I heard what Grizzy said to you when Pezzy mentioned a group orgy.” Droid sighed, his body sagging at tenison releasing from holding information in for so long.

“I mean, I was joking around with Grizzy. Do you all feel that way?” You questioned scaredly, almost wanting to run away, with innocence just dripping from your figure.

Droid chuckled, the playful glimmer in his eyes intensifying as he leaned in a little closer. “You know we’re just teasing you, right? Or…maybe we’ve all been too comfortable tonight.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, making your heart race with the implications. “Let’s just say, when it comes to cuddles, the lines can blur, and sometimes the jokes take on a life of their own.”

You furrowed your brow, both curious and slightly apprehensive. “But it’s all in fun, right? Like, we’re just friends, just cuddling. Right?” The question lingered in the warm air, inviting exploration while the cozy glow of the room danced with laughter around you.

“Sure! Friends with some cuddly benefits!” Droid replied playfully, spinning the phrase into something almost whimsical. “But there’s a difference between joking around and actually having feelings. Trust me, no one wants things to get complicated tonight.” He shot a quick glance towards Puffer and Grizzy, who were currently locked in a mock argument over the significant merits of their favorite childhood cartoon characters.

Your heart beat faster at the thought of complicating the easy relationship you had fostered within your circle. The cuddles, the laughter, the ridiculous moments—they formed a harmonious rhythm that you cherished deeply. “I don’t want to ruin anything by taking it further. What if we get tangled up and something happens?”

Droid surprisingly relaxed, a sincere expression resting on his features. “You’re not ruining anything. We all care about each other, and this is all part of exploring what those feelings mean. Just know that at the end of the day, I think we’re all here to make memories together.”

You studied his eyes, a mixture of warmth and concern glimmering back at you. It felt comforting, grounding you amidst the whirlwinds of banter and blissful chaos. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Awkward?” Droid laughed lightly, ruffling his hair, which somehow made him look even more adorable than he already was. “Have you met this group? Come on now, look at us doing a sleepover stream on twitch.”

Pezzy, overhearing your conversation, wiggled his eyebrows comically. “Oh yeah, the king of awkward moments is right here! Remember when Grizzy attempted to serenade ___ with that old love song? Classic!” He let out a loud laugh, prompting everyone else to remember and join in, sharing their own favorite embarrassing stories.

Soon, the atmosphere shifted again as shared experiences and playful anecdotes piled one on top of the other, and the earlier tension fizzled out like a quickly deflating balloon. You felt lighter with each laugh, the worries that had clouded your mind slipping away like mist under the morning sun.

But as the laughter echoed, a small thought flickered in your mind. You noticed Droid’s teasing smirk when you turned to him, the light in his eyes hinting that maybe—just maybe—there was something more beneath the surface. Something neither of you had fully explored yet.

You snuggled back against Droid’s shoulder and allowed the comforting chaos to swirl around you, grateful for the journey ahead while keeping the precious moments close enough to hold. As the soft, ambient sounds of Minecraft lo-fi music filled the room, a calm veil descended over the group. The chill vibes wrapped around each of you like a cozy embrace, and everyone instinctively shifted closer, creating a warm cocoon on the couch. The flickering glow of the screen cast gentle shadows, enhancing the magical atmosphere of the moment.

You felt relaxed as you leaned more into Droid, the corners of your mouth turning up into a smile as you listened to the soothing beats that lingered in the air. "Welcome to our little sanctuary of peace and cozy adventures!" he declared dramatically, causing everyone to chuckle as they settled deeper into the comfort.

Pezzy, with his signature non-mischief, grabbed his Yoshi plushie and shut his eyes, enjoying the peace that the lo-fi music sung into the living room. “Lo-fi vibes—no chaos allowed!” he whispered playfully into the mic, everyone shook their heads in agreement. You rolled over to the left, the area right in between Pezzy and Droid; but still snuggled into Droid.

Not long into the mellow playlist, another media share kicked in,ocean waves to fall asleep too. As the soothing sounds of ocean waves rippled through the room, an air of tranquility settled. Soft whispers echoed with quiet laughter as eyelids grew heavy, and people nestled deeper into the comfort of each other. Just as you began to drift away to thoughts of sandy beaches and the gentle hush of the sea, the peaceful moment was abruptly shattered by the unmistakable opening chords of a familiar song. The sudden shift from tranquility to chaos was jarring, and you couldn’t help but erupt into laughter as the upbeat rhythm filled the space, shaking everyone out of their mellow zones.

"Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down!" rang out, the classic Rick Astley hit blasting full volume like an air horn in the serene atmosphere. The shock of the sudden upbeat energy threw everyone into disarray, pulling laughter and startled reactions from every corner.

“Thanks Chat, now I’m limp as fuck,” Droid blurted out amidst the chaos, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, but you could feel the playfulness bubbling beneath the surface, igniting a cheerful atmosphere that was impossible to resist.

“Droid, don’t lie now! You have __ laying on you. Ain’t no way your limp,” Grizzy shot back, incredulity mixed with mirth in his voice. He nudged Droid with exaggerated gestures, making a scene as he pointed accusingly at the two of you.

Droid turned to you, his eyes dancing with humor as he leaned a bit closer. "Hey, what can I say? The presence of such cuteness takes all the energy out of a guy!" The banter filled the space with warmth, but the comment sent a delightful thrill racing through you.

You chuckled softly, trying to play it cool but feeling your cheeks warm at his words. “Well, if I’m causing cosmic energy depletion, maybe it’s time I step back.” You pretended to shift away, feigning an exaggerated pout, but the playful glimmer in your eyes revealed your true intention—staying right where you were.

The playful atmosphere was abruptly hijacked as the voice of Buzz Lightyear boomed through the speakers with a theatrical flourish, bursting forth like a cannonball into a calm pool. “BUZZ LIGHTYEAR—THE WORLD’S GREATEST SUPERHERO! THE WORLD’S GREATEST TOY!!” The announcement crashed over everyone like a wave, and panic ensued as hearts raced and laughter erupted in equal measure.

Everyone leaped from their spots, startled out of their cozy moments like startled deer, eyes wide and pulses quickening. Droid shot upwards and nearly knocked over the bowl of chips that had been sitting precariously close. “What was that?!” he exclaimed, gripping his chest as if to stop the rapidly beating heart within.

“WHY DOES BUZZ HAVE TO YELL LIKE THAT?!” Grizzy cried out, half-laughing and half-mocking, as he waved his arms dramatically, trying to rein in his own thumping heart. “I almost forgot I wasn’t in a horror movie!”

“Seriously, that’s not a greeting! It’s an announcement of doom!” Pezzy followed up, gripping the edge of the couch, eyes darting as if expecting something to jump out at him. “I thought I was going to get drafted for a secret mission or something!”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, your laughter mingling with theirs as you tried to regain composure from the unexpected jump scare. “Who knew Buzz was such an adrenaline booster? Maybe he truly is a superhero!”

“Yeah, the kind of superhero who gives you a heart attack,” Droid managed to joke, his breath still hitching as he tried to steady himself. “What’s next? Is Lightning McQueen going to come racing in at full speed?”

Grizzy, feigning an air of deliberation, responded dramatically, “Lightning McQueen would totally give me a heart attack too! Someone, please—bring back the calming ocean waves!”

Pezzy, still trying to catch his breath, planted his hands on his hips and pretended to give an impassioned speech to the ceiling. “I demand a safe space! A tranquil zone where no animated characters can yell at me suddenly. Buzz Lightyear is not invited! Also, I need to pee, so I'm going to pee. I’ll be back.” Pezzy says storming off to the ground level bathroom.

As the remnants of laughter began to dissolve and the soothing notes of a tranquil song from Avatar: The Last Airbender filled the room, a comforting atmosphere settled back in. The peaceful melody wrapped around you like a warm embrace, restoring serenity after the chaos of the earlier jump scare.

Just then, Pezzy emerged from the bathroom, still adjusting to the calm that had enveloped the gathering. He approached his designated spot only to discover a blanket of fluff and warmth—___ had claimed his territory, your form curled up comfortably in his absence on the couch. You could see a flicker of faux outrage cross his face.

With an exaggerated sigh of mock dismay, he declared, “Oh, the betrayal! My very own spot has been hijacked!” As if on cue, he flung his beloved Yoshi plushie down to the floor in a dramatized act of protest. The plushie landed with a soft thump, as though it understood his anguish.

Not one to let a minor setback get him down, Pezzy then decided to take matters into his own hands. He sidestepped the occupied space, hopping over the back of the couch with surprising agility. It was like watching an acrobat perform a daring maneuver, a mix of calculated confidence and carefree spirit.

With one foot landing just beside you, the warmth of his body pressed against yours as he gracefully settled down. You immediately found comfort in this new arrangement, body half awake, half asleep—a cozy blend of tranquility created by the soft music and the warmth radiating from Pezzy’s presence.

“Ahh, this is much better,” he sighed contentedly, sinking into the cushions beside you. The slight weight of him made the rest of the world fade away—a perfect addition to the relaxed ambiance. It was as if you both were enveloped in a personal bubble of calm.

“Mmm, this isn’t bad at all,” you murmured sleepily, shifting just enough to nestle against him. It felt effortless, as if you’d both found your own comfortable spots within the vastness of the couch.

Moments naturally drifted by as you both closed your eyes slightly, letting the music wash over you. Pezzy’s warm presence kept you grounded, a gentle reminder that amidst laughter, chaos, and unpredictability, tranquility could also bloom.

As the peaceful ambiance enveloped you, the soothing notes of Avatar gradually faded, replaced by a sudden jarring bass that erupted through the speakers. The iconic Jellyfish Jam from SpongeBob SquarePants kicked in, amplified to a degree that could send a shiver down one’s spine, bass boosted to the point where it felt like a mini earthquake had struck the living room.

Pezzy jolted upright, eyes wide with incredulity. “What is happening?!” he exclaimed, smirking at the absurdity of the situation. The infectious rhythm thumped through the walls, drowning out your shared cocoon of tranquility. “This is definitely not the calming wave we signed up for!”

You burst out laughing, the previous serene atmosphere getting hijacked yet again by the wild energy of SpongeBob's carefree tune. There was something about the slapstick charm of the yellow sponge and his jellyfishing escapades that ignited an avalanche of laughter among your friends, who were just beginning to wake up from their own cozy states.

You were the first to join the riot, your smiles turning into giggles as you bounced slightly in your area “This is fantastic! Nothing like the Jellyfish Jam to get your heart pumping!” you exclaimed, adjusting your position to dance a little, all while draping the blanket like a party shawl.

feeling Pezzy’s laughter resonate beside you. “I’m not ready to dance!” he joked, throwing his hands up,moving his body slightly to the beat. “We can’t just let the jellyfish groove without us?”

The magnetic rhythm had lured everyone in, and before long, Grizzy and Droid had jumped up, imitating the jellyfish’s animated movements, arms flopping as they wiggled about like they were swimming through an imaginary ocean. “Look at me! I’m a jellyfish!” Grizzy declared with mocking grandeur, causing even more laughter among the crowd.

As the frantic jellyfish antics faded away into memory, you found your spot back on the couch, a soft cocoon of warmth and laughter. Pezzy's presence, wrapped around you like a gentle hug, cradled your senses, balancing the previous chaos with a serene comfort. The ambient sound of giggles and breathy whispers settled in as everyone slipped under their blankets, a colorful patchwork of fabric draped over the entire group like a whimsical safety net.

The next hour unfolded as a series of delightful segments filled with ridiculous videos and infectious laughter that punctuated the air like confetti. Each new media share was a surprise, an unexpected gem of comedic gold that pulled everyone’s attention back to the screen with wide eyes and stifled snickers. Until Puffer saw one of his Mods in chat spamming that the media share was broken.

As the last video came to an end, the screen suddenly froze, leaving everyone in a momentary state of confusion. The room was filled with a buzz of idle chatter, punctuating the silence as everyone wondered what went wrong. Puffer, who had been seated near the laptop, squinted at the screen, gauging the situation with an air of determination.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this!” he declared, rising with confidence, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Someone get the popcorn; it’s time for Puffer to troubleshoot!”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you knew this was going to be an adventure. Puffer leaned over the laptop, clicking and typing excitedly as if he were about to save the world from a digital catastrophe. He manipulated the mouse wildly, attempting various approaches with a combination of trial and error. “Okay, let’s try refreshing… or maybe it wants a new video input?” he muttered to himself, his hands moving swiftly.

A few awkward clicks later, he turned to the group, expression both focused and slightly sheepish. “If anyone has a higher power, now would be a good time to channel it!” The laughter that erupted was unanimous—everyone loved Puffer’s relentless optimism even as the digital drama continued.

Finally, after some tinkering and a few dead-end attempts, Puffer’s face lit up with triumph as the media share screen flickered back to life. “Aha! I knew my infinite wisdom would prevail!” he proclaimed dramatically, arms raised like a conquering hero.

The moment quickly shifted back to the screen, but then Puffer paused mid-victory to take notice of something on his screen. His brow furrowed for a second before a mischievous grin spread across his face, and he leaned back slightly. “Um, you guys might want to check this out,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful suspicion.

Curious, everyone turned to see what Puffer was pointing at on the couch, to reveal glimpses of cozy moments between you and Pezzy. Much to your embarrassment, there you were, all snuggled up against him with a look that spoke volumes of comfort and warmth. His arm was draped casually around your shoulder, and the camera had captured that innocent moment of intimacy as Pezzy's hand rested underneath your shirt, resting lightly on your stomach.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks like a rushing tide, suddenly hyper-aware of the playful gaze of your friends. Laughter echoed around the room, some playful teasing notes rising above the joyful cacophony.

“Oh come on, look at that! That’s beyond cuddly!” Droid added with a mocking shake of his head, clearly enjoying the fun of this unexpected exposure.

Pezzy chuckled, apparently somewhat unfazed by the scrutiny, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he nudged you playfully. “What can I say? Sometimes you just need a snack and some comfort,” he declared with a faux-seriousness that made the room erupt in laughter again.

“Yeah, snacks being you!” Puffer added, delighting in the playful atmosphere he’d inadvertently highlighted.

The embarrassment lingered lightly like a blush on your cheeks, but amidst the teasing, you couldn’t help but smile. There was something genuinely nice about the moment, about being comfortable with friends who accepted you exactly as you were, flaws and all.

You decided to embrace the light-hearted banter. “Hey, cuddling is a vital part of survival! Everybody knows that!” you retorted defiantly. “How else can one survive a full hour of media sharing without strong cuddle support?”

The laughter that rippled through the group felt like a warm embrace, transforming what could have been an awkward moment into another cherished memory. You snuggled further into Pezzy’s side, joining in on the fun. After all, this was all in good spirit, and the camaraderie within the group only seemed to deepen that night.

As the media share slid from clips of fluffy puppies tumbling in a garden to cheeky cat videos performing their own brand of shenanigans, the mood escalated into a riot of laughter and squeals. Pezzy often set the tone—his laughter was contagious, his presence an anchor of joy. Everyone felt at home, and as you snuggled further into Pezzy’s side, a warm serenity washed over you—this was your tribe, your family.

Puffer, ever the leader, had finally solved the media share app's quirks, and the next clip was ready to roll. The mischievous glint in his eye hinted at the good-spirited chaos to come. He pressed play, and instantly, the room filled with the unexpected sound of thumping music that matched every beat of your twerking exploits, captured gleefully from your social media.

"Whoa! Who knew you had those moves?" Grizzy exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and lust, which earned a round of jeers from the others.

As the video played, each rhythmic sway drew exaggerated gasps and groans from Pezzy and Puffer, while Grizzy’s playful taunting escalated into outright praise. Each twist and turn had surfed a wave of shock and delight, and Droid, now wide awake, stood frozen, mouth agape. You caught a glimpse of his expression, a mixture of awe and amusement, like a child seeing fireworks for the first time.

The atmosphere in the room shifted to a vibrant blend of energy and frisky as the video showcased your surprise dance moves, each beat pulsating with a life of its own. With every sway, Pezzy dramatically clutched his heart, feigning restraint from bursting into wild applause, while Puffer leaned in, eyes wide, caught somewhere between admiration and mischief. Grizzy,

could hardly contain himself, erupting into laughter as he chanted compliments and exaggerated reactions.

It was in this whirl of laughter and gaiety that Droid’s inspiration struck. In an impulsive moment, he turned to you, caught under the mesmerizing spell of your dance, and before you could react, he smacked your butt with a playful burst of confidence. The surprise hung in the air, time seeming to freeze momentarily as the room erupted into a mixture of gasps and laughter. The mix of shock and giggles was contagious, with each friend rooting for more daring antics.

But as the reality of action dawned on Droid, his face flushed a shade of crimson. “Oh, no! I-I didn’t mean to—” he stammered, eyes wide in shock, realizing the unexpected boldness of his move.

As his embarrassment peaked, he turned away, only to find himself snuggling next to you in an almost childlike manner, muttering apologies as if hoping to melt into the couch. “I’m so sorry! That was so out of line, I wasn’t thinking, just—”

“Relax, Droid!” you replied, chuckling as you nudged him playfully. “We’re all ‘friends’ here! Just consider it a compliment.”

The laughter echoed through the room, a symphony of amusement bubbling up like soda pop shaken too vigorously. Puffer, leaning back in his chair, couldn’t suppress his chuckles, and Grizzy dramatically wiped away tears of laughter. Pezzy was red in the face, torn between embarrassment and bemusement; it wasn’t every day he found himself among such a raucous crowd.

“Okay, okay, let’s not get too carried away!” you exclaimed, playfully nudging Droid away, who was still buried in a sea of regrets and apologies, mumbling about how he didn’t mean to be so bold. You couldn’t help but smile at this unexpected turn of events; it was just too entertaining.

“Don’t worry, Droid. Just don’t make it a habit,” you winked, turning the situation into a lighthearted joke. The room erupted again with raucous laughter, and it felt like a bubble of joy had enveloped all of you. It was one of those rare moments, where ridiculousness united friends in a blend of laughter and mischief, an unbreakable bond of camaraderie.

“But seriously, how did you even manage to pull off those moves and why haven't you done them on me yet?” Grizzy smirked, leaning in closer as if hoping to uncover the secrets behind your seemingly spontaneous dancing prowess.

Grizzy’s footsteps creaked across the floor as he ambled out of the cozy living room, his mission to find his elusive hair tie and sleep mask. “I’ll be right back! Don’t eat all the snacks without me!” he called, but everyone knew this was a challenge rather than a warning. As soon as he left, an excited buzz encircled the room; media share had started to stutter and glitch, like a wayward satellite trying to connect with the right signal.

Puffer, the tech whiz of the group, grabbed his trusty laptop. The screen flickered in protest as he muttered under his breath, “What’s going on with you now?” His fingers danced skillfully across the keys, eyes narrowed in concentration. Every now and then, he glanced up to catch the stream of chaotic energy that filled the room, almost like a buzz of electric excitement electrifying everyone’s laughter and chatter.

“Just think of it as character-building for the media share,” Pezzy jokes, reclining back into the couch with his water bottle or coke bottle in his lap.

You chuckled, feeling utterly at ease, nestled snugly between Droid and Pezzy. Your friends provided an amusing buffer, eliciting warmth and joy from the light banter that occurred around you. Grabbing your phone for a moment, you scrolled through your socials’ endless chatter, pausing occasionally to catch a snippet of a lively conversation or a meme that made you smile.

Just then, Grizzy re-entered the room, arms laden with snacks — a bag of cheese cubes that you brought home earlier cradled in one hand, while the other sported an enormous chocolate bar that seemed almost to shine in the dim light. “I feel liberated! And guess what I found?” he exclaimed triumphantly, yanking off the sleep mask that was dangling from his neck. “The ultimate sleep accessory!”

You burst into laughter at his silly antics, while Grizzy graciously gave you a handful of your favorite type of cheese, his delightful obsession with snacks evident as he plopped down, a grin plastered on his face.

“Thanks, Grizzy! Best snacks ever,” you said, your smile wide as you ate a cube from the pile.

With perfect timing, Puffer triumphantly declared, “It lives!” as the media share flickered back to life. He beaconed for everyone’s attention, “Who’s ready to see some legendary content?” He playfully pointed at you, knowing you were usually the most enthusiastic about the wildest videos.

“Mildly legendary, at least!” you joked back, as a wave of giggles swept through the room.

Puffer then bounded up to the fridge, grabbing two chilled water bottles. As Puffer theatrically waved the water bottle before handing it to you, the room erupted in giggles. A playful warmth enveloped you as he flashed that signature, quirky flirty smile, saying, “Stay hydrated, my love! We need some of our energy for tonight’s stream!” It felt like a scene plucked straight out of a romantic comedy, and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling lighthearted and surrounded by good vibes.

Just as everyone settled onto the couch, shifting legs and rearranging pillows for comfort, the atmosphere was interrupted by a cheerful, chime-like notification. The screen flickered with a bright message announcing a fresh donation—a moment of sweet, dramatic déjà vu.

“Grizzy daddy sorry… Pezzy daddy sorry… Puffer daddy sorry… Oh Hi Droid...” The words echoed through the room as everyone burst into an uproar of laughter, breaking the blissful moment of quiet anticipation.

The moment the words echoed through the room, the atmosphere swelled with laughter that spilled into every corner of the cozy space. Each of the boys reacted with exaggerated flair, their personalities blossoming in the face of absurdity.

Pezzy quickly flicked off the camera with a theatrical motion, a bemused expression splashed across his face. “Well, that’s one way to get kicked off the stream!” he quipped, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation while trying to suppress the giggles bursting forth. The playful banter had taken a wild turn, and he was all too eager to jokingly step back.

Puffer, ever the mastermind of theatrics, raised one eyebrow in a perfectly timed reaction. He peered intently into the lens as if assessing the situation. “I don’t recall signing up for this, people! What a betrayal!” he exclaimed, his tone dramatic and over-the-top, eliciting more laughter from the group.

Grizzy, on the other hand, took the insults with a smirk, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “What?” he hummed into the mic, his deadpan delivery contrasting hilariously with the chaos of the moment. It was his quintessential lazy nonchalance that often played out in the most joyful of ways, and the sight left everyone chuckling.

Droid, embodying his role as the steady yet quirky dad-type of the group, opted for the classic dad wave, a somewhat exaggerated waving gesture that left the others in stitches. “Oh hi there, everyone! Just checking in, no big deal!” he said, a grin growing wide across his face. His tone was comically casual, adding a delightful layer to the already jovial atmosphere. You cuddled into his side giving him extra love since chat was not loving him.

Droid’s dad wave came off as wonderfully charming, but what drew attention next was the sweet moment you shared. As you cuddled into his side, he turned slightly, a mix of surprise and delight flashing across his face. The laughter around you faded into a soft backdrop as you leaned in closer, your whisper brushing against his ear like a teasing breeze.

“You know we can blur those lines, like you said earlier, daddy,” you said, your voice low and playful, accompanied by a subtle bite of your lip that sent a ripple of warmth through the air. Your sultry gaze met his, and in that moment, a spark seemed to dance between the two of you, igniting a playful tension that even the jubilant noise of your friends couldn’t extinguish.

Droid’s cheeks flushed a shade deeper than usual, a mix of comical embarrassment and sincerity painting his expression. “Whoa now,” he chuckled nervously, adjusting his glasses with an endearingly awkward gesture. His grin, however, widened, eyes sparkling with mischief. “We’ve got an audience here, and they’re expecting some dad jokes, not... whatever this is.” The thrill in his voice hinted at how much he was enjoying this unexpected turn of events, the way it turned the night from merely entertaining into something tantalizingly complex.

The laughter around you surged back, with Pezzy and Puffer barely containing their amusement. “Look at you two! What is happening?” Pezzy exclaimed, nudging Puffer playfully. “Someone’s getting scandalous!”

With everyone now grinning conspiratorially, Droid leaned in closer, brushing his shoulder against yours as he whispered back, “You’re really going to make it hard for me to stick to my dad persona like this.” There was a hint of challenge in his voice, the playful spark beckoning him to dive into the quirky chemistry crackling between you two.

“Oh, that’s the point,” you replied smoothly, throwing in an exaggerated wink for dramatic flair, prompting more laughter from the guys. “A little chaos never hurts anyone, right?”

Droid glanced over at the camera, then back at you, his expression a mix of affection and mischief. He was clearly torn between maintaining his wholesome charm and embracing the funny spur-of-the-moment vibes that had overtaken the stream. “Guess we’ll have to see how much chaos we can get away with tonight!” he ultimately declared, laughter spilling from his lips.

The laughter that erupted after Droid’s declaration was quickly eclipsed by the sudden and loud “ACHOO!” from Grizzy, echoing through the room like a fire alarm. Everyone turned their attention to him, eyes wide and ready for whatever playful chaos might ensue next.

“Bless you, daddy!” you chimed in, your voice a playful melody that added to the humor of the moment. It was a lighthearted jest, one that only you seemed to notice was met with a hint of surprise from Grizzy.

“Thank you, kitten,” Grizzy replied absentmindedly, a sheepish grin dancing on his face, completely missing the undertones of misplaced affection behind your playful greeting.

At that instant, everyone froze in a state of disbelief, their expressions oscillating between shock and hilarity. Droid’s mouth dropped open slightly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Grizzy. “Wait, what?” he stammered, confused as if he had just stumbled into the wrong dimension.

Pezzy nearly fell off the couch, clutching his stomach. “Did you just get called ‘kitten’ by Grizzy?!” he hooted, pointing an accusatory finger as if he’d just discovered the greatest scandal in streaming history.

Puffer leaned back, arms crossed and a mock-serious expression plastered on his face. “This is a plot twist nobody saw coming! I feel like I just got upgraded to a new season of ‘Reality: The Chronicles of the Clooless Boys’!”

Grizzy’s face turned a shade darker, embarrassment washing over his features like the tide. “I thought that was Pezzy blessing me!” he exclaimed, his voice rising a bit as the realization dawned on him. The laughter only escalated, everyone seizing the chance to poke fun at the blushing dad figure.

“Surprise! It wasn’t Pezzy, it was me!” you teased, leaning back with a satisfied grin as Grizzy squirmed in his seat.

“Seriously though!” Puffer interjected, “Do we need a ‘Grizzy Kittens’ merch line now? I can see the T-shirt designs already!” He threw in an exaggerated hand gesture like he was revealing the ultimate scoop, and laughter erupted once again.

Grizzy couldn’t escape the playful wave of banter that washed in; it pushed and pulled at him, the boys relentlessly teasing. “I’m just being nice; you know, wholesome and all!” he defended, though the humor of the moment was too strong.

“Well, we all need a little kitten magic in our lives!” you added with a wink, the room howling in gleeful laughter once more, Grizzy helplessly caught in the storm of camaraderie and jovial embarrassment.

As the chaos continued, Droid settled back into his role, smirking at the series of events. “What a stream this has turned out to be! I take back what I said earlier. The only chaos happening tonight is right here!”

As the laughter mellowed into a happy buzz, Pezzy announced in his signature boisterous tone, “Alright, I’m off to the restroom!” With a dramatic flourish, he hopped up from the couch, waving exaggeratedly as he made his exit. The moment his absence created a void, you felt yourself unintentionally slipping into the couch's crevice. The plush cushions seemed to invite you in, but instead of comfort, it was more akin to a gentle but insistent trap, gradually making you feel like you were disappearing into the furniture.

Wriggling to escape the unexpected embrace of the couch, you quickly realized you were getting uncomfortably confined. “Okay, this is not how couch-sinking was supposed to work,” you muttered to yourself, muscles tensing as you tried to re-adjust. Even worse, an unwanted chill crept over you as the air surged in, and your body's instinct kicked in—time for a sweatshirt.

You slipped free from the couch's clutches with a huff, making your way to the kitchen table where one of the boys had left a cozy sweatshirt lounging. As you stretched to grab it, you felt the energy buzzing behind you. Grizzy's voice broke through the casual chatter that filled the room.

“Anyone want food? I’m thinking we could get some takeout!” he called out, glancing around but pausing when you walked behind him on the couch.

You turned to respond but caught his eye just at the right moment. He looked up at you with a cheeky grin that held a mischievous glint. “I could eat you for dinner,” he said smoothly, holding your gaze with a confidence that sent your heart racing. The playful stretch of his words and the way he carried his charm had a sudden and powerful effect, leaving you blushing furiously.

Your cheeks warmed like a furnace, and thankfully for you, the microphone didn’t pick up his playful flirtation, but the live chat didn’t miss a beat. A flood of messages began popping up, teasing you with playful jabs like “Is Grizzy flirting?” and “Someone's blushing!” Streams of giggles erupted in the background, a chorus of playful mockery, while you tried to muster up a witty comeback, desperately suppressing a giddy smile.

“I—uh, well, you know, I’m more of a snack, really!” you finally managed to stutter out, your voice coming out in a rush as you hastily pulled the sweatshirt on, grateful for the added warmth and cover it provided against the teasing glances and chortles filling the room.

As you settled into your sweatshirt—a snug cocoon that shielded you from the playful teasing—Puffer patted the couch next to him, a cheeky glimmer in his eye. “Hey, come here! There’s a perfect spot right here between Grizzy and me. It’s the best seat in the house,” he said, his tone light and inviting, but with an undercurrent of mischief.

With nowhere else to go and the irresistible allure of friendly companionship pulling at you, you slid back onto the couch, positioning yourself between the two guys. The warmth of the sweatshirt contrasted with the cozy closeness of your friends, making the entire setting feel simultaneously comforting and just the right amount of chaotic.

“Now we’re all together again!” Puffer said, grinning as he leaned closer, speaking in a low voice, just for your ears. “You know, snacks are supposed to be shared,” he quipped playfully, nudging your shoulder. “Are you okay with that? Because I could totally go for some midnight munchies.”

Grizzy caught the exchange, and with impeccable timing, he threw in, still maintaining eye contact, “Yeah, if you’re one of our late-night snacks, we’d better make sure you’re well taken care of.” His expression was equal parts playful, equal parts serious, and it sent tingles of mischief running up your spine.

You bit your lip to stifle the giggle rising within you. The room was buzzing with laughter and chaos, yet it felt like you were in a little bubble, cozied up between two of your friends who were determined to shower you with attention and silliness.

Pezzy turned his focus on the stream again, casually adjusting the camera to capture the moment. “Wow, look how quickly things get spicy whenever I step away!” he teased, eliciting another round of laughter from the group. His voice interjected into your light-hearted exchanges, making the moment all the more dynamic.

Puffer leaned closer, lowering his voice further, still playing his part in the low-key flirtation. “Just be prepared; if Grizzy decides you’re a snack, we might need to set some boundaries. I don’t want to lose my favorite couch companion!” He threw an exaggerated wink your way, clearly enjoying himself.

A tranquil blanket of tiredness began to settle over the group. With the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a cozy hug, you found yourself sprawled out comfortably between Puffer and Grizzy, sipping the last bits of energy from the night. Puffer’s arm encircled your shoulders, creating a subtle but comforting presence against the backdrop of friendly chaos, while Grizzy settled in closer, an easy smile resting on his face.

Across the couch, Droid had positioned himself, half splayed over Puffer while balancing precariously in his own little kingdom of cushions. Pezzy, in his corner, had curled up like a content cat, the remnants of a lively evening wrapped softly around him like a well-worn blanket. The jovial energy had morphed into a lazy but delightful stillness.

Just as you began to float into a comfortable haze, a sudden jolt of sound erupted through the room. The unmistakable PlayStation 2 intro music blasted through the speakers, bass boosted to an almost ridiculous level. It reverberated across the walls, shaking the very air around you like a sonic tidal wave.

“Whoa! What is that?” Grizzy exclaimed, suddenly jerking awake, his eyes wide as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Puffer groaned dramatically, “You’ve just made my comfy couch nap a dangerous mission.”

Droid, ever the instigator, snickered from his sprawled position. “Who doesn’t love a bit of classic nostalgia, especially when it’s had a little too much to drink?” His laughter echoed through the room, amplifying the joyful chaos as Pezzy popped up with a laugh, eyes sparkling with mischief.

you nestled back against Puffer, the warmth and security of the couch embraced you like a gentle wave, lulling you into a blissful sleep. The laughter and teasing faded into a soft murmur of voices, mingling with the pulsating bass of the music still lingering in the background. You drifted off, wrapped in the cozy camaraderie of your friends and the chaotic energy of the night.

You had no idea how much time passed, but the soothing rhythm of sleep was abruptly interrupted by a loud and thunderous roar that echoed through the room. The media share had taken a sudden turn—an audio clip of a rocket taking off filled the space, its intensity jolting you out of your slumber.

“3… 2… 1… lift-off!” the announcer declared, the excitement crackling in the air as if the whole world was about to be launched into a new dimension. You immediately scrubbed the sleep from your eyes and shot up in a daze.

Droid, still sprawled out on the couch, burst into laughter, his voice bright and teasing. “Welcome back to planet earth! Did you see the launch? It was epic!” His teasing made the room feel lively again, as Grizzy stirred and let out a groggy chuckle, trying to process what had just happened.

“Oh man, I thought I was dreaming of a space adventure,” Grizzy mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Next thing I know, I’m being blasted back to reality by NASA!”

Pezzy’s corner became a flurry of movement as he sat up, brows raised in surprise. “Did we just launch a rocket, or did I miss the memo about attending a space party?!” he joked, laughter spilling from him like confetti—a feel-good ambiance that swept through the group.

You blinked repeatedly, glancing between your friends as confusion mixed with the remnants of sleep. “I just wanted to see what the cosmos looked like while peacefully napping!”

The lively chatter of your friends snapped your attention back to the present. The idea of breakfast hung in the air like a sweet aroma, and soon enough, everyone started weighing their options between the two iconic breakfast spots—IHOP, the haven of fluffy pancakes and syrup-filled wonders, and Waffle House, known for its crispy, golden waffles and hearty home-cooked meals.

“IHOP has those amazing stuffed pancakes,” Droid argued, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “Plus, can you imagine diving into a warm, maple syrup waterfall this early in the day? Pure bliss!”

Grizzy, ever the candid commentator, chimed in, “But Waffle House has that greasy charm, you know? There’s something about their hash browns smothered and covered that feels like a big, warm hug!”

Pezzy, fueled by his undeniable love for breakfast, flailed his arms playfully. “But can’t you see? At IHOP, we’ll have all those crazy pancake flavors! You can't beat the strawberry banana or the chocolate chip! Can you imagine the pancake tower we could build?” His eyes gleamed with the sweetness of delicious possibilities.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer enthusiasm bubbling around you, the debate energizing the air. “I love pancakes, but I also can’t say no to that crispy goodness from Waffle House,” you admitted, feeling the flavors of both places dancing on your taste buds.

“That’s true, but IHOP wins on atmosphere!” Puffer interjected, reclining in a way that suggested a fierce dedication to the cause. “I mean, it’s like entering a pancake paradise!” He gestured dramatically, as if the diners themselves were the grandest of attractions.

The excitement in the room shifted as Pezzy’s sudden pizza craving sparked new energy among the group. Everyone rallied at the idea of a late-night pizza party, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. The conversation swirled, mixing dreams of classic cheese slices with a sprinkle of spontaneity.

“Okay, so we’re going plain cheese, but we can’t forget the breadsticks!” you added, feeling the warmth of your friends’ camaraderie washing over you. “Dipping those in marinara sauce is a must!”

“Exactly! Those cheesy, garlicky breadsticks are the real MVPs of the meal!” Puffer nodded enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the prospect of it all. “But while we’re at it, how about we throw in some toppings for an extra dimension? We need to elevate this pizza experience!”

Grizzy shrugged, leaning back with a thoughtful expression. “I mean, if we’re playing with toppings, we could go wild. What about a little pepperoni or mushrooms?”

Pezzy’s fingers danced over his phone screen, frantically typing the order as the conversation snowballed. “Alright, so we’ve got cheese and breadsticks… what do you think about adding some pepperoni?”

“Okay, pepperoni can work,” you said, your mind flashing images of gooey cheese and spicy slices melding together. “But if we go that route, let’s be bold and sprinkle on some jalapeños too, for a little kick!”

“Now we’re talking!” Puffer exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious. “Yup, I’m in for the heat!”

With your decision solidifying, Pezzy hit the ‘order now’ button on the pizza app, sending your late-night cravings into action. The deliciousness you anticipated made your mouth water, and soon, you would all be sinking into cheesy bliss, sharing slices and stories as the night pushed on.

As the minutes passed in delightful anticipation, your friends shifted the conversation back to the topic of breakfast, discussing the point at which IHOP became the undeniable champion of pancake paradise. It was a cacophony of voices, laughter, and the occasional sleepy mumble as you settled back into the couch.

“I’ve been thinking about toppings all wrong,” Droid pondered aloud. “We could have designed the ultimate breakfast pizza, now that I think about it! Bacon, eggs, cheese… to start the day right!”

“That may be the best idea I’ve heard all night!” Pezzzy chuckled. “Wait, do you think breakfast pizza could ever work at IHOP?”

“Why not?” you said, sliding back into the playful banter that danced built upon each suggestion. “I mean, if we add a bit of syrup on top, it could be the wildest food fusion ever!”

Bursting into laughter, the idea took root in your collective imagination—an absurdly wonderful breakfast pizza that could be adorned with pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup.

“Listen, all I know is that when we hit IHOP, we might as well throw in an experimental breakfast pizza for good measure,” Grizzy proclaimed, and everyone around formed an enthusiastic cheer.

With the pizza order confirmed and the atmosphere filled with warmth and laughter, the anticipation for your dinner grew.Time passed quickly, wrapping up as the doorbell suddenly rang, heralding the arrival of your cheesy feast.

As the doorbell rang, a media share popped up of them being rick rolled. It seems like it's the 5th time tonight, and they rick rolled the pizza delivery man. Puffer, with a triumphant grin plastered on his face, returned from the door to the bustling living room, his arms a precarious tower of pizza boxes and the enticing aroma of freshly baked breadsticks wafting through the air. “Look what I have! The feast has arrived!” he announced, his belly rumbling in sync with his excitement.

As he carefully set the boxes on the coffee table, the group erupted in cheers. “And look who decided to add a little fizz to the party!” he chuckled, revealing the two-liter bottle of Sprite perched between the boxes, a secret that had remained hidden in Pezzy’s planning.

“Did you really just sneak a soda?!” Droid asked, a mix of mock indignation and amusement lighting up his face. “You know that just adds to the calories of the pizza we are about to destroy, right?”

“Exactly!” Puffer laughed, popping the lid off the soda and pouring it into cups for everyone. “More sugar and cheese equals more fun!”

With a round of cheers and an impromptu toast to indulgence, the pizza was displaced, boxes flopped open, and everyone eagerly reached for their favorite slices. Laughter bubbled over as you all revealed in the moment, recounting the hilarity of the night’s earlier rick-rolls. The latest one had been particularly epic, as you all watched your pizza delivery man, caught off guard by the iconic tune blasting from your phone.

After feasting on cheesy deliciousness and munching crispy breadsticks, you felt a gentle lull settling over the group, each of you stuffed and satisfied. It was in this peaceful atmosphere, snuggled between Droid and Puffer on the couch, that your phone buzzed, breaking the cozy ambience.

Curious, but unwilling to move from your snug position, you let it ring a few times until the buzz faded into silence. When it buzzed again, you reluctantly peeled open your eyes just enough to see your boss’s name flashing on the screen. You swiped to answer, the warmth of your friends at your side making the weight of the call feel far away.

“We need someone to cover a quick shift at the ER until morning,” your boss’s voice came, calm yet urgent. You bit your lip, contemplating. The thought of leaving this cozy gathering, the happiness thick in the air, sent a shiver of reluctance down your spine.

“No, I can’t do it tonight,” you finally said, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you declined the request. You had a soft spot for emergencies, of course, but the memories being created tonight were just as important to you. After a brief exchange, you hung up, content in your decision.

With a little stretch, you snagged one last crust and sighed with satisfaction. There was no going back after that—your stomach was full, the laughter surrounding you was intoxicating, and the couch was simply too inviting.

As the conversation continued around you, the night drifted on, feeling heavier with warmth and comfort. You took one last bite of the delicious pizza, savoring the gooey cheese as it melted in your mouth. With a satisfied sigh, the pizza platter was polished off, and the glow of laughter filled the air as stories turned into gentle banter.

Before long, the energy of the group began to fade, little by little, until it felt like a soft blanket of peace covered the space. Unable to resist the overwhelming comfort, slumping back into the comfy cushions, you snuggled deeper between Droid and Puffer, who instinctively wrapped an arm around you. The day’s exhaustion hit you hard, drawing you into a comforting blanket of slumber.

With the sounds of laughter in the background gradually transforming into a soft murmur, your eyelids grow heavy. You surrendered to the irresistible allure of sleep, letting it pull you into a cozy oblivion, ensconced in the happiness of cherished friendships.

As your eyelids fluttered closed, the muted noise of laughter and conversations blurred into a comforting hum. You could feel the warmth radiating from your friends, each breath lulling you into a deeper calm.

In your dreams, you danced through bright halls of pancake paradise and celebrated pizza feasts with friends who understood the magic of spontaneous adventures. Just as you drifted away, you could faintly hear Puffer delivering a rendition of “Never Gonna Give You Up,” the echo of laughter blending harmoniously with the peace of your slumber.

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