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keresnotceres · 1 year

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Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut

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thedreadvampy · 1 month

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Guys I am BEGGING you to mask up if you're going to counterprotest the fash. They DO take photos and they DO spread them around their networks for targeting reasons.

This is not just targeted at people who consider themselves Serious Radgy Activists, antifa or anarchists.

This is for you, your mum who's angry about people targeting your neighbours, your nan who thinks the racists are being silly, your pals from the pub.

This is for everyone. We all need to stay safe at anti-racist demos.

It can feel paranoid, but things can escalate fast and it's hard to walk back once your photo's out there. A bit of overabundant caution when it's not 100% necessary is better than looking over your shoulder for years or getting jumped unexpectedly in the pub because of a photo you didn't even know was taken.

Honestly, especially with more and more police crackdowns against protesters, this is a good habit to get into at any protest or demo where there's the slightest chance of things kicking off, with fash or with cops.

You don't have to go full black bloc, but even if you're not planning on diving into the fray, stay safe - consider:

Cover your face. Wearing a mask can also help prevent COVID in your network, but if you don't have one or don't want to wear one, cover the bottom half of your face with a snood, balaclava, scarf, etc. If you need to eat, drink, smoke or vape, turn AWAY from the front of the line and ideally duck behind a banner or another person to do it. Keep masked until you're out of line of sight of the demo.

Cover your hair, especially if it's coloured or you have an interesting haircut. I usually part my mohawk down the middle and tie it to disguise the undercut, and bundle it up at the back to disguise the length, before I put on a hat or scarf - but I'm paranoid, and a hat, a headscarf or a hood will be fine. A baseball cap is good too - the brim further obscures your face from a lot of angles.

Cover up big tattoos, or tattoos that are highly identifiable from a distance. I have an upper arm sleeve and I'm honestly still working on summer options for this, but consider long sleeves for arm pieces, a light scarf/bandana for chest/neck tattoos, long trousers or leggings for leg tattoos, and/or gloves if you have hand tattoos (often the easiest to identify cause they're rarer). Even mesh or fishnet can be ok, or in a pinch you can use plasters or draw over it with a felt tip - you don't necessarily need to hide it fully if that's too hard, but try and make it harder to recognise.

If there's an accessory you often have on you in your regular life - colourful shoes, a bag with a fun design, exciting glasses frames, favourite earrings, etc - consider swapping it out for a more generic option. You don't want to put loads of effort into covering your face then get jumped on the way to work because someone recognised your backpack!

Don't help the fash out - if you take any photos, try to avoid including people's faces or tattoos as much as possible. If you post pics on socials, give them a quick once-over and consider putting an emoji or drawing over anyone's face visible.

If you see photos of someone you know at a demo, let them know (especially if they've come from rightwing accounts). If you see one of the fash taking photos, warn people and make the effort to help others cover up if they need it.

We haven't seen fascist/white nationalist mobilisation at this scale in a long time, and most people trying to help haven't dealt with this shit before. The risk factors are different to protests you may have gone on before.

Fash do sometimes come back and target people individually outside of demos if they've marked you out as an enemy. Keep safe, keep covered, keep together.

Few additional safety/security tips:

Once you've arrived at the demo, don't go anywhere alone until you're well away from the area. Stick with a buddy or a group you feel safe with and you're less likely to be jumped. Definitely don't leave on your own.

Cops are not your friends! They've been arresting as many anti-racist activists as racist ones. so remember: no comment, no personal details, don't tell them anything, and this includes blue bib PLOs. If they tell you to do something, ask 'under what power' and if they can't demonstrate that you're legally required, don't.

Don't drink or do drugs at a demo - you're adding risk for everyone around you

If you have your phone with you, make sure it's password-locked. We all sometimes lose or drop our phones and if it gets into the wrong hands you want it to be secure.

If you don't want to risk fighting, that's ok - numbers are still super important and tbh most of us aren't super keen on throwing down. Make sure that if things do seem like they might kick off and you don't think you can defend yourself, that you're moving towards the centre of the crowd and that you're not out on your own.

Look out for each other. Step in if someone's being harassed or attacked - step in as a group so you have more backing, if possible. If you're white, even if you're not able/up for fighting, it can be helpful to be part of a human barrier around people who are more likely to be targeted (eg people of colour and people who are wearing hijab/are otherwise visibly Muslim). When you're surrounded by other people, you're way less likely to get attacked.

If the fash seem to have gone, don't immediately disperse and don't post on socials that you're leaving. Especially if you're defending a specific place, it's very easy for them to wait till you've gone and come back later - give it at least an hour after the expected fash action, ideally longer.

On the flip side, don't be the last small group of people left standing. The usual rule for higher-risk demos is 'when we leave, we leave together as one' - however, for community defence, as above, doing that too early can out the people you're defending at greater risk. However, if there's like 5 of you there when 20 fash come back, you might be screwed - unless you're confident you can handle yourself, try to make sure the counterprotest crowd doesn't fall below 10-15 people. If it does, and you haven't specifically planned for that, you should consider calling it quits and leaving together.

If you're traveling to and from a demo on public transport, keep security in mind - you and the fash may be traveling to and from the same place. As much as possible, stay with buddies. Put away any signs and try not to look like you've just come from a protest. If you feel nervous, consider taking a more roundabout route home, or hopping off the train partway and getting back on the next one.

Don't do the fash's work for them. It's tempting to repost white nationalist calls to action to warn people, but you're kind of just spreading their rhetoric along with it. Instead, keep info to places, times and groups - you don't need to include the fearmongering about immigrants!

Don't post about where you are in too much detail, for the same reason - especially hotels and refuges!!! Fash are targeting those places for a reason, and when you've gone home, the people they're targeting are still there. If you post "we're at X hotel where asylum seekers live," could the wrong person see that and think "oh, that's where the bastards live, I'll remember that"? Remember, it's people's basic safety we're here to defend! Similarly, think about how much detail you share about tactics, who told you or how they knew - on social media you're not only talking to your own side.

also Stand Up To Racism have been at the forefront of a lot of these counterprotests. there's a whole sordid history there which mean a lot of people hate them, but more immediately they're just not always the best example of practical security. Just today they called time on a demo in Newcastle before the advertised fash demos were even due to start, and they are often very free with information and with people's photos. don't take your lead from them! they're playing a role in coordinating things, but ultimately they are not prepared when it comes to keeping either activists or the communities we're protecting safe.

if in doubt, skew on the side of caution - cover up more, share less info, stay in larger groups for longer, and stay later. If you come alone, it's ok to attach yourself to the side of an existing group - they'll understand.

#red said #uk politics #protest #protest safety #farage riots #stand up to racism

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weebsinstash · 8 months

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Hi I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel and I found your blog which is amazing by the way , and I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere Alastor ?

Thanks babe! ^^ so i was discussing this with someone recently and, to avoid doing that thing where I have too any concepts on the same post, I'm going to stick with a specific idea I've had of him recently which I will call "canon accurate yandere Alastor"

imma be honest and say this version would fucking suck depending on your preferences because he

-doesn't love you romantically and doesn't let YOU date

-doesn't wanna fuck you either AND DOESN'T LET YOU FUCK ANYONE ELSE EITHER

-probably does not consider you an equal by any means, like he considers you a good friend and you're charming and lovely and whatever, but he sees you like.... you'd be puking into a trashcan and he's the one holding your hair back, "now see my dear, this is why you shouldn't go out drinking without a proper escort~" like there's a vague layer of condescension and there's a huge massive power balance and experience balance between you two

Like. He's. He's kind of condescendingly cunty to you, he's vaguely looking at you with the energy of "MacKenzie oh my gosh MacKenzie you're so drunk, you're wasted, oh my god let me drive you home, no girl I'm taking your keys, you're too--" like do you get what I mean? He's a traditional gentleman and he comes along and uh, he thinks he sees this raw potential and charm inside of you that he thinks is being wasted by your modern lifestyle which can literally include

- your diet

-your tech use or what you use from day to day

- how you dress

-how you TALK

-how you spend your time

-who you hang out with

Just picture he meets you, you catch his eye, maybe you're at the hotel, and he's entertained by your sarcastic witty replies to his antics that maybe even get a chuckle out of him. You're a spitfire and he likes that!

.... and then the next time he sees you you're like vaping weed from a pen, looking at him with half lidded eyes, playing a game on your phone, too scattered to fully hold a conversation with him, to focus, to be as entertaining to him as before, and he's grinding the teeth in his smile, "oh no, this won't do at all", especially when he sees negative affects such maybe you're watching things he doesn't approve of or you're being harassed idk

I feel like since Alastor canonically drinks and is quite a heavyweight apparently, he wouldn't mind his darling drinking, but he would definitely control how much after a while. If you get too wasted in front of him too many times, he'll completely cut you off. Folks are you aware that getting too drunk can cause an alcohol induced panic attack that can literally take away your ability to move your hands and arms and make your mouth numb. I found this out recently :) whoops. And I feel like Alastor sees that shit and you'd have to EARN HIS TRUST for him to let you drink again and uh, I don't think that's possible

You're kind of like a bestie but you're also like a toy he's playing with and he doesn't like to share. He'll drag you away from doing other things with other people, especially if he doesn't approve of what you're doing and or with whom. He basically views you dating other people as lowering yourself to people who are beneath you and would only want you to give yourself to someone who deserves you, and he doesn't think ANYONE deserves you except him, and he DOESNT LIKE YOU THAT WAY so the man is just like FORCING CELIBACY ON YOU. Like have you ever seen videos of people taking their domesticated lovely groomed pets outdoors and like a stray or even wild animal version of it comes along to. Hump. And the owner is freaking out, "get the fuck AWAY I don't know where you've been" or at least Should? THAT'S Alastor watching 'other people trying to predate upon you' aka YOU trying to get laid or date

You'll be cooking something and he'll come up and try some without asking, "Hah! This is terrible!" and either watch you so he can tell you what he thinks you did wrong once the dish is finished or he takes over and asserts that he wants to show you to do it "the proper way!" and if you're female he potentially inserts a comment about how as a lovely lady you should know your way around a kitchen (in like a positive "I'll show you so you can know for yourself" way but like the underlying misogyny is there lol)

He'll take you out drinking and dancing but don't you dare let him catch you throwing it back or being mildly sexual, or he'll immediately tell you you've had too much to drink and take you home and you two spend the rest of the night like drinking tea listening to the radio, reading books, or watching old timey TV.

Lastly... I can absolutely see Alastor making some kind of deal with his darling for their soul. He CAN do that (and I think technically anyone in Hell can deal with souls, it's apparently part of the becoming an Overlord process). But I can just see him taking his darling's soul in exchange for anything, it might be really small, it might be really important, but he sees it as safeguarding your beautiful lovely little soul from anyone else who might take it. It truly is like THE HIGHEST FORM OF OWNING YOU, CONTROLLING YOU. It's all according to whatever is in the deal, but I'm sure there's other basic caveats you get... like him being able to summon you at will if you agree to it so he's randomly yanking you away from other people or tracking you when he doesn't know when you are.... or restraining you so you stop running away from him and running out on the town to act so... vulgar

#yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #yandere alastor #hh #sinprompts #i miss using italics :( tumblr mobile has made using italics a nightmare

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nololginny · 29 days

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a little butthurt

summary: rafe cameron decides to go out with toppers sister, who turns out to be a complete freak even after 2 years of dating each other, he will never get over her oddness.

You sit on your bed, trying to find a cute tiktok trend for you and rafe to do, well against his will of course. you pick up your mango geek bar, taking a puff and suddenly hearing commotion coming from downstairs. You pick up your vape and phone, and head towards the noise. You go down to see that Kelce, Topper, Sarah, and Rafe are arguing about some music artist. You take in notice that rafe has his black compression shirt on ,with your favorite grey sweatpants of his. You notice how nice his ass looks in them. You smile to yourself, going up to creep on your boyfriend.

You go up behind him, raising your hand and smacking his butt so hard that the slap echos. Your boyfriend jumps at the action, screaming an "ow holy fuck, before turning around to see his girlfriend smiling at him. "Hi baby" you innocently say, giving him the warmest smile. He looks so mad "Babe what the fuck, that fucking hurt" he replies, trying to hide the smile that almost snuck onto his face. "Oh come on you big cry baby, let me take care of it" You smirk, taking his hand and dragging him upstairs. "damn i wish i had game like that" Kelce implies, watching his best friend and other best friends sister go upstairs.

"Seriously Tay that hurt so bad, you know how weird you are" he says, rolling your eyes because he has said that every day for the past 1000 times you have been together. "i think someone is a little TOO butt hurt about this" you laugh at your own joke, as your boyfriend sits there, with a straight face. 'i think my ass is bleeding" he states, pulling down his pants and boxers to see his ass up close in the mirror. "now that is a sight i like to see GYATT" you yell. "You need help and what the fuck is a gyatt" he replies, still looking at himself in the mirror. "Its all that cake you got baby, i just wanna squeeze it every time i see it".

"what the fuck are you on about right now" he turns to look at you, you just laugh, taking out your geek bar and putting it up to your boyfriends mouth. Despise his confusion about your comments, he takes a deep puff, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. He takes off his clothes, and heads to the bathroom. "I need to take an ice bath or something, this 'cake' is on fire" he states. you giggle, running up quickly to give his ass another smack, he yells in pain as you run out the door, laughing down the stairs.

"What the hell is going on up there" Sarah asks, seeing you run down the stairs abruptly, with Topper and Kelce turning around to see who Sarah was talking too. You were about to answer when you hear a yell from upstairs "TAYLOR GET THE FUCK UP HERE I THINK MY ASS IS GONNA FALL OFF" your boyfriend yells. Sarah and everyone stops before crawling on the ground in laughter. "please dont let him get me guys" you laugh, hiding behind the couch. Toppers phone is ringing, and he answers it. "yea bro" he struggles trying not to laugh. "you better get my girlfriend up these fucking stairs before i come down there ass naked and fuck all of you up"

Topper laughs even harder, him and Sarah grabbing onto each other, on the literal verge of tears. "NO GUYS DONT LET HIM GET ME PLEASE" you yell but also are laughing so hard. "oh my god Taylor you have to go rafe is not bluffing he will come down here" sarah says, wiping her tears from her now red face. "Topper your coming with me" you reply. "WHAT, WHY ME?" he yells back. "Your the second strongest doofus, come on i need protection from this scary man i call my boyfriend' you reply back, he sighs and follows you.

You make it up the stairs, pausing before the doorway into Rafes room. "heyy Baby i was just uh joking no need to do anything back okay?" you ask nervously. You open the door. "i hate you' he says with the now ice pack from his mini fridge on his ass, laying down on his bed. As topper walks in, he cant stand the sight and laughs on the ground. "HOLY SHIT IM TAKING A PHOTO" topper hoots, going to get his phone. "Topper you get that phone i am going to get that pretty gun in my drawer and shoot your head off" he says calmly. " Aw baby, im so sorry" You laugh, going up to him and rubbing his forehead.

"Taylor i cant feel my ass, you broke my ass." he says, topper tries very hard not to laugh. "aw its okay rafey, toppy will take care of you" he says, patting Rafes back. "babe, get the fucking gun". topper ignore him, and pokes the left side of his ass. "did you feel that" he asks. "feel what?". "on your ass" topper replies. "DUDE DID YOU TOUCH MY ASS, WHAT THE FUCK. "its lowkey fatter than sarahs" Topper states. "Actually thank you for that Top, its not that hard since shes built like a man, now get the fuck out" he yells, topper just scoots up slowly, leaving the room. Lets just say, after this rafe was always covering his ass around Taylor

#rafe cameron x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader

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soraviie · 1 year

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they're possessive.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: angst with a side of spice, slight humour idk I just be doing shit

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ what y'all think of this one? please let me know

NAMJOON | A greedy, spiteful, spindling arm comes up on your waist, pressing you tightly against its just as equally greedy and spiteful owner's form. While aggravating, the gesture is of no surprise. You don't even jump when the grip begins to press more on your ribs than you'd necessarily like. You drive an elbow into his side, momentarily meeting those narrowed eyes of his.

You're annoying.

I don't like him.

Am I supposed to care that you don't like him?

The argument is held entirely mute. He knows you know and you know he knows though poor Daniel — he's all together clueless.

"Hello, you must be...uh, ____________'s boyfriend? Right?"

Delicately, you snort in your palm, immediately sensing the way Namjoon's muscles tense on the other side of your blouse. The heat of his palm resting on the small of your back is scorching.

And whether it's from that or the minuscule way his jaw clenches, repeatedly coming to a brutal grind to then release only for the motion to repeat in endless circles; whether it was the tightness of the smile — there's a tight tick at the gap in the small space between his mouth curving upwards and his cheek that says he's not actually smiling despite appearing very much so — or whether it was something as simple as the fact that his eyes had been tracking your every minute for a solid piece of ten minutes now that delivers this easy deduction right in your lap.

He's into one of those moods.

There's a distinct coldness in his eye, a sort of a less than impressed expression that anyone, even someone so generally lost as Daniel could pick up on.

"We were just talking about the role of guilt and class consciousness," he trails off, squeaking slightly at the very end. You don't exactly fault him for it. Having a large man towering over you, feasibly blowing smoke out of his nose would put anyone ill at ease. "In....s-sustainability m-m-marketing. Yes."

"Smart, my ______________, right?" Namjoon chuckles to himself lowly. Daniel echoes the laugh, regardless, of how nervous the cadence of his voice is. Once again you don't fault him for it. A stranger would have no trouble believing that Namjoon's laughter is in good faith. He's honed the subtle art of being a fake a little bitch but you who knows better...well, you know better. You know that the kiss your darling — your huffing, festering, seething darling — presses upon your temple is far from good faith. The way his fingers squeeze your grip, all greed and jealousy, is so far from good faith it's downright atheist.

"They a-are," Daniel stammers, gaze flitting between Namjoon and you. Stupidly he's fallen into the trap.

"So you like my ___________?" he wilts underneath the weight of Namjoon's glare. "My ____________?"

Fed up with the nonsense, you push his hand away. His head darts to sit on the floor.

"Just go," you order Daniel and without hesitation, the coward scurries off to the dark dingy corner he came from. So perhaps you also didn't like him, it still wasn't a reason to act like that. And Namjoon knows this because though obstinate, there is a bashful glimmer that prohibits him from looking you in the eye.

"Your ____________?" you scoff. "Presumptious, no?"

"No," he spits. The lights flash overhead, a cacophony of colours that's mirrored in the dark of his stare that's abruptly grows fixated on your face. The room reeks of champagne, stale air and someone's vape smoke and this man stands in front of you — annoying, determined, aggravating and he loves you.

And because you love him just as much you let it slide with the only protest offered being an eye roll.

"You are mine."

YOONGI | "Do you...want to have a drink?"

His entire silhouette is downturned. Had you been an uninvested bystander you'd probably call his pouting expression comical because how does one manage to look that sullen in the middle of his own award ceremony. But alas you're not an uninvested bystander, you're a confused person thrown in the midst of your partner's raging emotions.

He doesn't speak for such a long time you're ready to open your mouth again, certain that he simply didn't hear your offer but then he answers, quiet and lifeless:

"No, thank you."

You observe his hands. His hands that do the speaking when his mouth cannot and unsurprisingly, you find them quite anxious. His nails rip at the bed of his skin, pulling the strips one by one. You cringe at the sight and place your palm upon his however when he fails to move, you pull back. So he doesn't want to talk.

Surreptiously, you scooch away, giving Yoongi his space but like a bullet he darts out his hand to catch you by the elbow, pulling you back down.

A singular "please don't" that dies somewhere in his throat barely manages to reach your ears, nonetheless, you oblige and the tension in his rounded shoulders eases, if a bit.

Safe to say the walk back home was awkward.

"You're..." he speaks so suddenly, you jolt hearing his voice in the otherwise deadly silent staircase. "I thought I was always the first one you sent your lyrics to?"

It's such a weird question that you stop dead in the tracks and half turn to him on the overtly glamorous stairs to his penthouse. You never did like them. And now he's standing here atop of these stairs wearing a multitude expressions that simultaneously reveal everything and nothing. The line of his mouth is set down — grim and annoyed, his eyes are turned at an angle — the one that meant trouble, deep trouble yet the look within them was sad. You'd call it insecure though never aloud knowing he didn't appreciate such a thing.

"You're the first proper person I sent them to."

"Proper," he scoffs. "Is she not proper? Standing on a stage, receiving award for the song with your lyrics."

"She wasn't back then. Back then we were just dreaming idiots while you were already a star," you justify. He doesn't seem to like the explanation.

"Those lyrics meant so much to me, you know," he breaks. Not a lot but just enough, a break in the otherwise pungent dark. "It was as though you'd pried my ribcage open and prodded at my heart. I've never felt so...bare."

Automatically, you let out "I'm sorry" despite not knowing what you're apologising for. A bad habit he'd previously chided you for. He shakes his head either saying there's no need to say sorry or rejecting it altogether.

"Are you angry with me?"

Yoongi breathes a long, strained sigh, dejectedly shaking his head.

"No...no, it's not you I'm mad at."

"Then who?"

He fails to answer, instead choosing to run up the stairs where you were starting and to your surprise taking your hand into his.

Leading you back home, he asks, all casual:

"You love me...right?"

"Of course, I do!" offended, you retort. "What kind of qu-!"

"Say it out loud."

"What?"

"Say out loud that you love me. That you're mine."

To further feign his relaxed state, he begs for this whilst punching in the code for the doors — each ding of the number dragging on and on in the stilted air of the hallway.

"Please, say it."

You give a small smile and lean into his arm. You finally get it.

"I love you and I'm yours. Don't worry."

Not much is spoken after that.

JIN | "Let's just do it, okay?"

"Huh?!"

His eyes widen, clearly mocking your outrage as lithe hands press the bowl out of your fingers, dragging you by the sleeve out of the country house. The morning is utterly fresh. Birds shriek and lilt their songs, perched just outside the window on the growing orchard, dew still glistens in the green grass and the world is at peace.

Or it was.

Before this demon decided to ruin your life.

As per freaking usual.

"I meant let's get the berries, you pervert," he dares to roll his eyes. You try to break free of his grasp but just like anchors board ships the strength of his clutch is unbreakable.

"It's 7 in the morning, Seokjin!"

"Seokjin," he echoes derisively. "No one calls me Seokjin."

"Lots of people do!"

"Then how about you don't."

"Ok, Mr Kim, whatever you say."

"That's even wor-no, actually on a second thought, I like it."

"Ugh, you're disgusting!" you snap, whilst for reasons unbeknownst to yourself still putting on shoes and a shawl. It's not like he even was your friend. The relationship you two shared in between the confusing circle of relatives, friends and acquaintances was exactly that — confusing. He was a friend of your cousin, somehow, a God's joke if anything, and hence why you found yourself be dragged by him in the rustic country house in the throes of upcoming summer. Funnily enough when he'd been introduced to you, Seokjin was presented as "shy and introverted, wouldn't hurt a fly, wouldn't speak a word". It had turned out to be the furthest thing from the truth. At least when it came to you. It was as though it was his life's mission bestowed from the ancestors to grate every single one of your nerves.

"Disgustingly handsome," he brushes off, unconcerned by your low growls and huffs of protest. Footsteps tremble the old wooden stairs underneath your butt, signaling a possible saviour.

"What are you guys up to so early?" Jae rubs the sleep out of his eyes, coming to stand before you and dropping his drooling head upon your shoulder. You welcome your head with energy never displayed before and Jin's expressions grows frighteningly lax.

"They squeezed this guy's head too hard in the military," you throw a thumb at his bristling figure. "He's lost it."

But Jin doesn't laugh instead his nose scrunches as though he'd smelt something deeply affronting all the while his eyes don't leave Jae. Suddenly he reaches to pry Jae's fingers away from your shoulder, gently albeit firmly guiding you away.

"This one needs some fresh air," he stiffly belts out and before you know it you're both out of the door. The fresh air is indeed nice — it hits you like a pleasant wall and rubbing at your tired eyes, you shuffle in the general direction where there was a splotch of green growth — raspberries, blackberries, gooseberries, though the latter Jin didn't trust at all.

You trudge along in silence, battling the thorny undergrowth along the well-trodden narrow path snaking through the field. However, the closer you get to the berries, the more fuss Jin puts up.

"They'll eat me alive!" he cries out, violently shooing away the black masses of hungry mosquitoes. "I'm too delicious to be out here!"

You perch a hand on your hip, giving him a thoroughly disapproving glare.

"If you were going to complain about coming here, why even bother?"

"Well how else was I supposed to get you all to myself?"

You think that even birds fall quiet hearing that.

"...what?"

"What?"

You both blink at each other.

"You...you want me...all to yourself?"

Jin laughs abruptly, the sound falling strained and nervous and in the soft light of the rising sun, his neck begins to glow bright red.

"Haha what nonsense," he chortles. "I see you're getting delusional, dear."

"What?!"

"WHAT?!"

Like a deer caught in headlights, Jin stands before you, hyperventilating slightly and letting the mosquitos, just as he said, eat him alive.

"Dear?" you arch an eyebrow. "I'm your "dear" now?"

"No. You're a "deer" you misheard."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"You don't make any sense."

"No, you."

"No, you!"

"What are you five years old," you mutter underneath the nose before erupting into a teasing smile, curling a finger around a non-existent strand of hair. "So you want me all to yourself, huh? How flattering."

Jin rolls his eyes, once again swinging his arms around like some crazed caveman.

"We're going home now," he orders gruffly, turning on the heel.

"Jae's at home."

At the mention of your supposedly mutual friend, his expressions grows stormy once more and reaching backwards, he wraps his fingers around your wrist.

"Then we're going somewhere else," through gritted teeth, he pushes out, legs falling and rising, creating an angry stomp to which you titter along with.

"Oooooh, so you can have me all alone?"

He casts you a wicked glance from the corner of the eye, ultimately shrugging at the suggestion.

"Not really, I left the condom at home. But if you feel risky I'm down."

HOSEOK | After the fourth hour of being forced to listen to rock music at ear-splitting volume, Yoongi had enough and with an egregious sigh of displeasure, he rolled out of his studio and went to Hoseok's cave of misery.

Without knocking, he opened the doors, nearly crumbling from the force of the bass.

"DO YOU MIND NOT MAKING EVERYONE DEAF?!"

Very slowly as though pulled from a deep haze, Hoseok turned around, blinked for a while and only then understood the request.

"Sorry," he muttered, turning down the volume.

Yoongi examined him before letting out another sigh.

"If you're that worried about __________'s ex just tell them to dump the stupid reconciliation thing and return home."

"That's not what I do."

"And what do you do, Hoseok? Suffer in silence?"

The lone figure, illuminated only by the cold light of the laptop before him, didn't answer and Yoongi didn't prod any more.

"Just don't end up regretting it."

With those words reverberating through his head, Hoseok found himself running through the downtown streets, in search for even a sliver of you. A strand of hair, the corner of your jacket — anything. When at last he did, he found you happy, in the arms of another.

No.

No, he doesn't think so.

"You're so sweet," you muttered into his neck as he let himself be angry, glaring hatefully at the dark ceiling. The grip he had on both of your hips will undoubtedly leave bruises but selfishly he couldn't bring himself to care. If anything he wanted more. People couldn't be trusted, they would try and with him being away so much...why shouldn't he mark you up all nice and pretty so people who didn't deserve you wouldn't bother you...

He digs his fingers deep into the flesh.

"Wrong thing to say," Hoseok growls. "I'm really pissed off."

"What I mean is you have nothing to worry about," you defend hastily as you cup his face in your palms. Hoseok would like to say he felt so much better, that the little monster clawing on his chest would be satiated with the sacrifice but it was far from so. "I'm yours and only yours."

"Well, obviously I know that. How about we make sure others know that as well?"

JIMIN | The slam of both doors comes at a perfect time, creating a singular, decisive cannon shot of "BANG" and then there was silence. In times like these, you praised your past self in choosing the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. You doubted you could go out there - in the cold and heartless battlefield.

It was in the middle of the night, in the midst of a restless, frowning sleep that you hear the bedroom doors crack open. The left upper hinge was faulty, it creaked too much every single time. You always promised to take a look at it but in the end you never did.

Cautiously, fearing your wrathful outburst, a hand brushes over the covers and a warm weight evens the other side of the bed. He knows you're awake and he knows you know but still for a moment you pretend to sleep. An apologetic kiss is pressed against your jaw line; those two hands, now emboldened by your inaction come to rest around your form, wrapping you up like spiders did the witless flies flying into their webs.

"Why are you like this?" you ask him, not daring to give even a single glance backwards. It was always easier to speak if Jimin remained faceless. "Have I ever given you a reason to distrust me? To check me like this?"

"You know it's not yo-"

"Don't tell me "it's not you but me". That's bullshit."

"But it is me," he argues, blowing a harsh exhale of working up anger. It moves your hair and you sink tiredly into the mattress.

Two hands sneak their way underneath the covers, finding the warm flesh and then pressing it closer into him like he wants to mould you into him. Create one creature out of two.

"I'm sorry," you can hear the wistful sadness in his voice. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No. Not crazy. Just...lonely. Complicated."

"Complicated," Jimin echoes with a faint mutter. "Are we..."complicated"?"

"I don't know what we are."

Silence envelopes the room until at last you gather enough courage to look at him, settling on the other hip. The room is dark so it's hard to see and know for certain but you know it. Like a piece of some inherent knowledge stored in the marrow of your bones, you know the expressions marring his face. Anger — churning and acrid, loneliness — bitter and all enveloping.

Adoration — suffocating and sickening.

Yearning — stinging and all consuming.

Wish for you to live better than this, have better than these meaningless arguments spinning round and round with no reprieve — soft, selfless, devoted.

Jimin was all around a confusing man as if whoever made him didn't know how much to put into him so they poured everything into this one person and so he was everything.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" you sigh, tracing the side of his cheek. Readily he accepts the slight touch, nuzzling into it like a stray cat would after overcoming the initial fright fueled by disappointing past.

"Be gentle with me, please. Be kind."

"You were not kind."

His gaze darts downwards, embroiled in deep shame.

"I don't share. I don't want to share," spitefully, he mumbles, brows coming to knit together in a frown. "Why should I? You're mine. Only mine. Like I'm only yours."

"I don't get jealou-"

"But I want you to."

A pause. His fingers come up to lay upon your palm where he intertwines your fingers, perhaps so you couldn't escape. Not that you even considered.

"I want you to be jealous. I want you to be possessive. Just like I am. So I wouldn't feel guilty," he pulls in a shuddering breath, almost chickening out but then saying it after all. "So I would feel wanted."

"Oh, Jimin," you breathe yet another sigh but decide to not argue anymore.

TAEHYUNG | Whilst the legs clamping down on yours and preventing you from making a grandious exit of his apartment, doors slamming shut and everything, are present, a clearly discernible expression on his face is extremely lacking.

With features carved of stone, Taehyung sits on the other couch, pretending you were not even there, save for the occasional muscle flexing in his legs to keep yours locked in between his. For over an hour not a word was spoken, not a glance exchanged. Even Tannie grew fed up with the display and took his nap to the plush bed in the corner.

"This is ridiculous," you scoff, once your tailbone began to feel too numb. "My moving in was supposed to put an end to your...episodes."

He doesn't speak but you could almost swear that the vitriolic way his lips curl, he was mutely mocking your choice of words.

"It's like you're depressed."

"I am depressed," obstinately, he agrees, voice rumbling a low, irritated register.

"What for?"

"Well, I guess I just find it hard to get past the fact that the love of my life, my moon and stars," he accentuates the words with an intention you're too annoyed to grasp. "One who has agreed to be my spouse one day keeps flirting with a man clearly infatuated with them."

"Oh, for the love of god," you cry out, throwing your hands up in the air. "Yes, he has a thing for me but I shut it down. I known him since we were kids!"

"No, please, rub it in some more," theatrically, Taehyung grumbles. "Rub in the fact that we we raised different and that I lost so much time with you for no other reason than our mothers popped us out on two separate geographical locations."

"Did your mother also drop you a lot?" you hiss. "Because there has to be a clinical explanation why you're so...so...!"

"So what?" utterly calm, he cocks an eyebrow at you and you know you had swam into deep, infested waters but still you spit it out.

"So...possessive! I hate you!"

You whip around, arms crossed, determined to sulk for a year if needed.

"Hate me?" Taehyung laughs but there is no mirth to be had or reflected be it his voice, posture or gaze. "As if. You're sitting here in between my legs not forcing me away, not even trying to set yourself free because...you hate me?"

You loathe it when he's baseless and even more when he isn't.

"Would you let me go then?" you spite him but he meets your disdain in equal if not surpassing measure.

"Let you go?" he inclines his head as if the suggestion in itself is ludicrous. "No, I don't think so."

"How dare you?!"

"Perhaps I phrased it the wrong way," firmly, he stares you down. You were fairly sure there were more agreeable cliffs you could rather take on. "I mean it would be entirely pointless for me to let you go or for us to part since we both know you'll come crawling back to me and I'll be doing the same. The end result never changes so why waste our time?"

Ah, yes, the breakup. The one forbidden topic no one ever brought up. The one that whenever just mentioned made Taehyung cry and you grow red with rage. Thus you rage.

"Well do you want to repeat that? Is that what you want by acting like this?!"

But Taehyung doesn't even bat an eye.

"I understand your outrage," he states coldly. "But whatever the reason, you and I will sort out our differences and live happily ever after."

"Is this you sorting things out?!" you let your voice rise into a painful shriek, pointing heatedly at where he'd folded his legs over yours, prohibiting you from simply storming out. After a prolonged stare down, languidly he lets up, putting his hands up in a supposed defeat. Though it sure felt like a bout of attitude.

"There. You're free now. Want to run away?"

"I'm not the one who runs away."

His jaw clenches in a death grip and for a second the pain in his face, makes a person you knew best entirely unrecognizable.

"Okay, you want the truth? You want the hard, honest truth?"

"If you're even capable of that," you sneer.

"The fact is everyone in your life, including your mother has told me, to my face that I'm not worthy of you. That I'll never be right enough for you. That I'm stealing you away from your beautiful, pre-determined path of being with your childhood best friend. Of staying in your home. And seeing how hard you struggle to fit in here, I realize that I'll never be enough. I'll never be able to soothe your aches that I myself caused by bringing you here. So I shout to the world, to them, to myself, to you that you're mine because lately I'm beginning to feel like each passing moment you're slipping through the cracks of my fingers. I'm getting desperate and that's why I'm depressed. Is that so unreasonable?"

By the end of it, his chest is heaving up and down, barely gathering enough breath to power through the breakdown. You wet your dry lips, sinking listlessly into the sofa.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

He drops his head on the backrest, lips curling downward. He really is depressed.

"Despite how I may feel about them, you still love all of these people. They're your support system, one I cannot replace. I just wanted you to be happy."

You sit on your respective ends, mulling your own thoughts. Still sulking, you touch his pinky, curious if Taehyung will accept the gesture. He doesn't look at you but immediately his own little finger wraps around yours.

JUNGKOOK | "You're a caveman!"

"Whatever."

"A chauvinist!"

"Sure."

You hit him square in the chest. It does fuck all.

"Gym rat," you mumble sullenly, begrudgingly accepting your bitter fate of being used as a pillow. It's not like you had even plans to go anywhere but finding yourself restricted because of this weirdo was completely different than just simply being lazy.

"That's not even an insult."

"I feel like a hero trapped by a creepy villain," you continue to fuss but Jungkook who has all of his limbs wrapped around you like a human cage appears mighty relaxed. His eyes are closed, there's a smirk playing on the ends of his lips, threating to burst at any given moment and at times it even seems he'll fall asleep.

"If that's what you feel."

"Jungkook, you're seconds away from going full Golumn!"

"Was he really that problematic? Or should other people mind their own business more and not interfere into the domestic lives of others? What's mine is mine. I would also hate having you be lugged away to a mountain to defeat some evil edgelord."

You cry out — defeated. With a content sigh, Jungkook can feel your body relax in his hold.

"You're impossible."

"Listen, babe, I told you I'm a lot to handle. I'm not legally liable for the consequences of your own actions."

Breathing right into his Adam's apple you curl your palms, briefly considering into pinching him. Painfully.

"You sly son of a-"

Jungkook presses a palm over your mouth with a throaty laughter.

"Let's get along with your future mother-in-law, why don't we?"

Spitefully, you lick at his palm but the only thing it causes is laughter.

"Good idea," much to your horror, he licks a bold strip along your collarbone. Your palms relax from the sheer shock of his actions as your nose crinkles in disgust at the sudden wetness alongside your flesh.

"Gross."

"Just fluids, babe," he points out and settles deeper into the covers, arms restlessly caging you in. From the very moment he first came home, pushed all his weight on top of you with an incoherent "miss you" they hadn't eased.

Still, you suppose this was some sort of progress from the temper he worked up in the earlier days. Recalling your little storm cloud and how he would thunder when threatened made you almost smile. In retrospect, it was just him being...really in love. The way he explained it, was that at times it simply overwhelmed him — this love he held for you. Hence why despite your grumbling and grousing, both you and him knew you weren't against it. It made you feel...wanted. And though you supposed someday in the future, the matter would have to be looked at by a therapist, currently you decided to sleep. His embrace was so warm after all.

And then in the border between wakefulness and sleep, there comes his soft voice, softly clinging to the background of your mind.

"You know you could kill me and I think I'd still love you," he chuckles lowly to himself, pressing a cheek against the crown of your head all the while softly swaying you both to rest. Unproblematic, gentle rest. "You're a bit terrifying in that way."

"I wouldn't do that," you deny hazily, your mouth falling open against his shirt. You always drool on it and he never complains.

"I know."

tagging: @rmstdio; @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria' @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @jminssiii

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honey-on-your-tongue · 1 year

Note

Oh hor hor you do threesomes ey? Corruption kink is it? With jake and tonowari please like reader is getting her first heat and coincidentally the two fine men are there to help because they're such gentlemen 🤭

Babyyyy the fact that you read my request guidelines>>>> 🤭🤭🤭

Oh, such gentlemen. Obviously it's an act of pure altruism from the kindest corner of their hearts 🤭🤭🤭😩😩😩

Also, to the nonnie who sent this: baby, it was a CHALLENGE to get through this like I had to actually take breaks cus I kept blushing and getting all hot and bothered ongggg 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

I was half-high on vape while I wrote this, so sorry if there are mistakes 🙃

Tonowari and Jake had always been hyper aware of your scent. The slightest whiff of it had both of them keeling over as they yearned to fill you, to fuck you. But lately, your scent had been driving them wild. It had grown sweeter, thicker, more alluring than usual. Both men didn't know what it was, they just tried to keep themselves under control because, for fuck's sake, they were almost fifteen years older than you. You, at the ripe age of 23, an innocent little thing, and both of them watching you predatorily, as if wanting to hunt you down and just eat your pussy out.

It was almost too coincidental to be funny when Jake and Tonowari are in the Olo'eyktan's marui, talking about you and how your scent has been oddly...igniting lately, when you just show up.

Hair soaked from the ocean, droplets dripping down your pretty skin, your necklaces all disarrayed, eyes wide and ears folded back. You looked half-scared, half...well, half-desperate.

You sign I See you to both men before saying, “Tonowari, I fear something is wrong.”

The Olo'eyktan stands, towering over you, almost double your size with his broad shoulders and huge arms. “What's happened?” he asks, eyeing you, wondering if maybe you're hurt.

Your eyes flicker over to Jake before you look back at Tonowari, and you look almost shy to say it.

“Come on, sweet,” Jake says, standing up and approaching you. He grabs your face in one of his hands and caresses your cheek, pushing a few strands of hair off your face. “You know you can talk to me, too.”

You nod, cheeks blushing, ears folding back and eyes growing wide. “I, uh...there's something wrong with me,” you tell them. “I feel all weird, all...” You blush even more and drop your eyes to the floor, ashamed.

Jake pushes your chin up, cooing, “It's okay, girl. Just tell us, and we'll help you.”

“It's all hot,” you whimper, embarrassed, as you stare at both enormous, horrifyingly attractive men.

“Hot where?” Tonowari asks, his eyes on yours, scanning your flushed face.

You swallow, closing your eyes as you place one of your hands on your pussy, cupping it, right where it burns like it's on fire.

Both men exchange knowing looks. So that's what the scent is. You're in heat.

Jake is the first to react. He chuckles lowly, quietly, as he says, “I've got good news for you, sweetheart. It's nothin' serious. Can be cured in about...forty five minutes?” He turns to Tonowari, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Tonowari gets the hint with ease. “Maybe an hour,” he replies, smirking.

You open your eyes, hopeful, and say, “Really?”

“Really, really,” Jake replies, playing with the pretty beads in your hair.

“How do I make it go away?” you ask, eyes wide, full of relief.

“Oh, you can't make it go away on your own,” Tonowari tells you, shaking his head. “You need someone to help you.”

You frown, confused, and ask, “Who?”

Jake laughs softly. “Us, baby,” he says, signaling at Tonowari and then at himself. “We can help it go away.”

“Would you like us to?” Tonowari questions, smiling at you.

You nod eagerly. “Yes. Of course, I want your help, Olo'eyktan,” you say—to both of them.

“Good,“ Jake says, nodding at the center of the marui, where a small mat is spread. “Lie down on the ground, kid.”

You do as asked, lying yourself on your back, and Jake throws Tonowari a triumphant look. Tonowari smiles in return, and then both men are kneeling at your feet.

Tonowari caresses your calf, while Jake bends your knees and plants your feet on the ground. He spreads your legs and you blush, avoiding eye contact with either.

Tonowari's hand crawls higher up, past your knee, to your thigh, and then he reaches the thin string of your loincloth. He undoes it with ease and removes it, tossing the item aside.

Jake's eyes fall on your pussy. Swollen and soaked, your juices staining your inner thighs, dripping down your throbbing folds. He holds back a groan at the sight, his cock jerking under his loincloth as the scent of your cunt hits him.

Tonowari smells your heat, and it makes his eyes flutter shut, his ears folding back.

“Goddamn,” Jake grunts.

“You poor little pup,” Tonowari says. “You should've come to us sooner, flower.”

You murmur something incoherent along the lines of I'm sorry, but say nothing else.

Jake licks his lips as one of his hands moves to your pussy, his fingers pressing down on your clit. You gasp at the sensation, eyes snapping to his face, and he grins. “This where it hurts, darlin'?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, nodding, and Jake tosses Tonowari a look.

“Help me, would you?” he asks the Metkayina, smirking, and nods at your pussy.

“It would be my pleasure,” Tonowari replies, moving one of his huge hands to your folds, pushing a thick finger into your sopping entrance.

“Her pleasure, actually,” Jake chuckles, and Tonowari smirks.

At the feel of both of their hands on you, you moan softly, hips rolling against their touch. Tonowari curls his finger inside you while Jake draws slow, precise circles on your clit. The ache within you lessens a tad, sweet relief washing over your body.

Tonowari can't believe how lucky he is. Touching you like this. Do you even know what's happening? he wonders. Do you understand what they're doing? Probably not. You're young and naive and innocent, and it drives him insane.

Jake watches your face, the way you sigh softly, the way your voice hitches with the pleasure. He glances over at Tonowari and says, “Think you can add another finger inside?”

Tonowari smirks. “She's wet enough,” he confirms before sliding his ring finger in along with his middle one. It makes you jolt, your hand falling to his wrist, and for a moment, both men think you're going to stop them. Instead, you try to force Tonowari's fingers deeper inside you, trying to hit that spot that aches in your womb.

“Need more!” you gasp, his bucking up in search of more friction. “Need more, please!”

Jake grins. “Not enough?” he questions, knowing full well only being stuffed full of cock will take the ache away.

“No,” you whine in response, shaking your head. “Need more!”

Tonowari pulls his fingers out of you as Jake moves his hands to your hips to pull you up. He flips you over, placing you on all fours as Tonowari moves to kneel in front of your face.

You glance up at him, your eyes wide and darkened with lust, quietly begging him to help you.

Jake kneels behind you, removing his loincloth, and he runs the tip of his cock between your folds. You gasp and shudder, trying to glance over your shoulder to see what he's doing, but one of Tonowari's hands grabs your face to keep you from glancing back.

“Eyes on me, pup,” he orders as he smirks down at you.

Jake watches your pussy, how your slick coats the thick head of his cock, and then he meets Tonowari's gaze. With his nod of approval, Jake pushes into you, his cock sliding all the way to your cervix.

You gasp, the sensation foreign and exciting, and you look up at Tonowari through your eyelashes, wordlessly asking what to do.

Tonowari smiles. “I got a job f'r you, pup,” he tells you, removing his loincloth, exposing his thick, hardened cock to you. “You think you can fit me in that pretty mouth 'f yours?”

You swallow, nodding, as you open your mouth. Tonowari traces your plump lips with the bulbous head of his cock before sliding it into your mouth. His heavy cock presses against your tongue and the roof of your mouth, making you feel like you're choking, and you gag at the sensation.

“That's it,” Jake says as he digs his fingers into your hips, dying to rut into you. “Taking his cock so well, honey.”

You groan, the sound muffled by Tonowari's enormous girth, and then Jake slowly pulls out of you only to push back in. You gasp, the sound barely audible since you've got your mouth full.

“Yeah, that's good,” Tonowari huffs. “Wouldn't want you bein' all loud f'r everyone around to hear, huh?”

Jake chuckles, thrusting into you at a controlled pace, allowing your pussy to mold to his size before he increases his ruts.

You mewl, your spit coating Tonowari's cock, dribbling down your chin. You can taste Tonowari, the salty precum dripping from his tip landing right on your tongue, and it makes you weak in the knees.

Tonowari just watches you, his ears folded back, his teeth bared in pleasure as he slowly fucks your face. His eyes are trained on the way his cock slips in and out of your mouth, in the way you gag around him. He's drunk on the feeling of his tip pressing against the back of your throat, and on the way your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Jake spanks your ass, the sound reverberating around the marui, and you squeal, making Tonowari grunt. Your pussy clenches around Jake's cock, and he smirks up at Tonowari, who throws his head back in ecstasy.

“Look at you, so pretty,” Jake groans, licking his lips, his hands splaying over your ass and spreading you. “Feel better, hon?” he asks, his thumb gliding across your skin to caress over your asshole.

You jolt at the sensation, hips jerking forward before you press back, searching for more friction. Jake smirks. He spits on your asshole before gently pushing his finger into you, making you mewl.

Your sounds send vibrations up Tonowari's cock, and he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging. You cry as he forces himself deeper down your throat, making tears form at the corners of your eyes as you gag again.

Jake starts rutting into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive folds and clit, making you gasp. “Goddamn,” he groans as you suck him in, pussy and ass tight around him. “You're too fuckin' amazin', kid.”

“She really fucking is, huh?” Tonowari agrees, fucking your face.

Tears fall down your eyes, the pleasure growing inside you, clawing at your insides. Your lips are swollen from sucking Tonowari's cock, cunt raw from Jake's thrusts. You mewl, arching your back, making Jake's cock drag against a spongy spot within you that makes you whimper.

Jake gasps softly, sinking his thumb as deep as it can go, his hips slamming into yours. Fuck, this has to be one of the best days of his life.

In front of you, Tonowari is slowly losing his mind, hips rutting against your face, your nose meeting his lower abdomen each time he thrusts into you, and his balls slap on your drool-covered chin.

The combination of sensations has you dizzy, frenzied by how intense it is. The pleasure within you feels like a living creature that purrs and begs to be released. It claws at your womb, the ache lessening but not quite disappearing. You can feel it growing, taking over your entire body, and you feel as if you're going to die from its ferocity.

You tighten around Jake, clenching his cock, and you moan against Tonowari. Both men can tell you're close, and it only spurs them on more.

“Come on, sweet,” Jake encourages, groaning at the way your warm, wet pussy squeezes his cock. “We're gonna make you feel better, okay? Just a while more.”

Tonowari is panting, hips stuttering, as he feels his own orgasm nearing.

You moan and whimper, the pleasure within you too much, the sensation of being so full driving you to the edge.

The creature within you grows feral, spreading inside you, making you see stars, and then your orgasm crashes over you. You gasp, crying out, the sound quieted by Tonowari's cock as you come.

Jake grunts, feeling your release gush around him, and then he's coming as well. His thick load spills into you, making you gasp at the sensation. And then Tonowari is coming too, his seed spurting down your throat, making you gag.

As all three of you come down from your highs, Tonowari pulls his cock out of your mouth and traces your swollen lips with his thumb. “You okay, pup?” he asks you.

You nod, still gasping for breath. “'m okay.”

Jake pulls his cock and his thumb out of you, watching his come dribble out. “You did so well for us, sweet,” he tells you, softly caressing your ass. “So fuckin' good.”

Panting, you question, “Is it going to go away now? Will it stop hurting?”

Jake smirks. “It might hurt in a little while, love. But we'll be ready to help you again.”

Tonowari chuckles. “This time, I'll take her from the back,” he announces.

Jake grins. “Fine by me. I'll get to see her pretty eyes stare up at me while she sucks my cock.”

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise

-----

Blog masterlist

#avatar jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar smut #jake sully smut #jake sully #inbox <3 #avatar #atwow smut #tonowari x reader #tonowari smut #dilf jake sully #jake x tonowari x reader #na'vi smut

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sturniolos-blog · 7 months

Text

Peer Pressured - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - swearing, fluff, arguing

requested ‼️

disclaimer: third person POV again

—————————

6:47pm Friday afternoon

“My parents would kill me, have you guys met my dad?” 14 year old Estrella tells her friends.

Her group of friends consisted of Hailey, Gavin, Jackson, Shay, and Shawn. They were currently in Shawn’s basement, all of them were vaping except for Ella, she loves her friends, but they aren’t the best for her, she knows that, but she just lets it happen. Shay and Shawn were the nice ones, the one that would never make Ella feel pressured, which may be the reason she has a slight crush on Shawn, and why Shay is her bestfriend but who’s really keepin’ track?

Ella was sat on the couch with Hailey and Shay, Hailey’s feet were on Ella as Ella was in the middle of the two, Shay had her feet on the coffee table.

Gavin and Shawn were on the other couch, while Jackson sat in a bean bag chair.

Her friend Hailey shakes her head, letting out a puff of smoke, “You’re parents are literally amazing they let you do whatever you want.”

Gavin nods his head in agreement, “Yeah, bro, your parents are like mad chill. Mine freak out over the littlest things.” He says, taking a hit from his vape.

“Nah, for real, especially your mom, El. You’re lucky.” Jackson says, his head leaning back and now looking up towards the ceiling.

Shay shakes her head, directing at Hailey, Gavin, and Jackson, “Yall needa’ shut up.” Shay then turns to Estrella. “You don’t gotta do it, girl. Your choice a hundred percent.” Shay says as she takes a hit from her rechargeable blueberry vape.

Shawn nods, silently agreeing with Shay.

Jackson goes into a coughing fit.

“Well if you do it, don’t be like this dumbass,” Hailey laughs, throwing her head back also to rest it on the arm of the couch.

Shawn slaps Jackson’s knee, “Yo, chill man, my mom’s is right upstairs, she bouta hear you hackin’ it up and ask what’s going on.” Shawn scoffs.

Gavin looks at Ella as Ella picks at her nails, “Estrella, why would you even come? I mean if you’re not gonna vape then what are you doing here?” He laughs, shaking his head as he hits his vape.

Ella gives him a dirty look, “Excuse me?”

Shay sits up, “Gavin, chill, you freak.” She insults.

Gavin laughs, “We thought you were cool, you used to be so fun. Remember when you used to get yelled at all the time? And now you’re miss goody two shoes, i mean, what happened to the good, fun, Ella?”

Ella suddenly feels small in this moment, she was only getting in trouble when her father was working too much.

Shawn stands up, pointing at Gavin, “You needa watch yourself, man. She ain’t even do nothin’.”

Gavin stands up also as they get in each others face, “That’s exactly my point, she’s being boring as shit.”

Shawn shoves Gavin harshly, “I said watch yourself!” He yells.

Hailey lets out an obnoxious laugh as she stands up, pulling out her phone. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” She chants.

At this point everyone is standing up.

“You guys all needa chill, like now.” Shay says, Ella grabbing onto her sweatshirt.

As Gavin goes to push Shawn back, Ella interrupts, “I’ll do it!” She says.

Everyone looks at her before Shawn speaks up, “Nah, you don’t gotta.”

Gavin smirks.

Ella shrugs, “It’s not even that bad, Gavin’s right. I used to be fun. Just let me get a hit from someone.” She says, putting her hand out.

Everyone looks down and stays silent, except for Gavin, he pulls out a green vape which meant it was mint.

“Here.” He says, giving it to her.

She takes a hit, as she releases the smoke she lets out a few coughs before feeling better, “Alright, pussies. Can we all sit down and chill?”

Everyone mutters a yeah before they all sit.

—————————

7:49pm

Ella walks in her house, her vape hidden in her bra. The first thing she sees is Mailo on the couch playing Fortnite.

“I’m home!” She yells, taking her shoes off.

“No one cares.” Mailo, the twelve year old scoffs.

“I wasn’t talking to you, jerk.” She says, giving him a dirty look.

“I’m in the kitchen, sweetheart!” Y/n yells back.

Ella walks into the kitchen to see her mom cutting up some fruit.

“What are you doing?” Ella asks, walking over and sticking a piece of watermelon in her mouth.

“We are having a meeting for work tomorrow, so i figured i would be nice and cut up some fruit for everybody.” Y/n says, grabbing apples out of the fridge.

Ella goes to grab another piece before Y/n smacks her hand away, starting to cut the apples. “Where’s dad?” Ella asks, taking a piece of watermelon anyway.

“In the shower, he should be out now…” Y/n trails off.

“Yeah, i’m out.” Matt says, walking into the kitchen with his hair wet, his shirt off and sweatpants on.

“Hey, baby, how was your friend’s house?” He asks Ella, kissing the top of her head.

Ella pauses for a moment, “It was fun.”

Matt goes to reach for a piece of watermelon, getting smacked in the hand by Y/n.

“Ow..” He mutters, “Yeah, what’d you do?” He turns his attention back to Ella.

Ella hesitates as her face goes pale, “We hung out, dad. There’s nothing to it.” She snaps.

Matt’s eyes widen slightly, “Okay, i was just asking.” He puts his hands up in defense before him and Ella at the same time go for another piece of watermelon.

“Will you two stop!? If i cut you some will you leave me alone!?” Y/n asks.

Matt and Ella both nod their heads with a cheeky smile on their faces.

“Mom! Cut me some too!” Mailo yells from the living room.

Matt and Ella both laugh as Y/n tries to hide her smile, “What is wrong with this family?” She sighs, going to the fridge to get more watermelon.

Matt and Ella sneaking more pieces.

Y/n turns around and comes back with the watermelon, seeing that her watermelon pieces that she cut up already were gone.

“Seriously?!”

—————————

9:42pm

Y/n walks into Mailo’s room, knocking before she opens the door, “Night, Mailo.” She smiles at him, just sticking her head in.

“Night, mom.” He says, watching something on the TV.

Y/n smiles and walks out of the room, walking to Ella’s room and knocking before opening the door, when Y/n peaks in she sees Ella readjusting herself, putting something behind her back, but she doesn’t say anything.

“You okay?” Y/n asks.

Ella nods, her lips staying closed.

“Alright, night, sweetheart.” Y/n smiles.

Ella smiles back as Y/n leaves the room, shutting the door.

What Y/n didn’t know is that the moment she left Ella let out a puff of smoke from her lips, the thing she put behind her was the green mint vape.

Ella takes a couple more puffs, she’s not addicted, she told herself. I meant there’s no way if i just started, right?

In the middle of a puff, the worst of the worst happens, Matt walks in.

Matt’s smile he had plastered on his face drops slightly, “What are you doing?” He asks, soft tone to his voice.

Ella has smoke in her mouth as she hides the vape under her thigh, she shakes her head as her face starts to turn red from holding in the smoke.

“What’s the matter?” Matt asks, walking in her room now.

Ella shakes her head again, begging silently for her father to leave.

“Ella, are you-”

Finally Ella coughs, smoke releasing from her mouth, very visibly, Matt watching as this happens.

“What the hell was that!?” Matt snaps.

Ella coughs consistently, leaning over to grab water on her nightstand but as she goes so the vape slips from underneath her thigh and onto the floor.

“Ella, what the fuck?!” Matt yells.

Y/n rushes in the room immediately when she hears Matt’s yell.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why are you yelling?” Y/n asks as Matt picks up the vape from the ground.

As Ella recovers from her coughing fit she yells out, “Dad! Wa-”

His face red with anger, “Our daughter is smoking! Did you know about this?!” Matt asks Y/n.

Y/n shakes her head, putting her hand on her own chest as she feels heart broken, partly because her daughter is doing this but partly because her daughter didn’t tell her.

“Ella, seriously?” Y/n lets out a disappointed sigh, shaking her head as she rubs her forehead.

Ella gets out of bed, “This was the first time i prom-”

Matt cuts her off, “Yeah and your last time, your last time for everything, you’re grounded, your phones getting taken, no TV, no nothing, you are-”

“Dad!” Ella yells as she tears up.

Y/n puts her hand on Matt’s shoulder, “Okay, Matt, i think we should all take a breath-”

“Yeah, not a hit of a vape.” Matt snarks, him rubbing his stubble.

Y/n starts to bring him out of the room, “Now, you’re being ridiculous, and i think you should go calm down before you say another word.” Y/n says, holding onto Matt softly.

Matt looks at her, tilting his head slightly, “But-”

“Now. Please.” Y/n pleads. Matt looks at her and sighs before nodding, walking to their bedroom.

Mailo comes out of his room, “Is everything okay?” He asks his mom, looking at Ella’s bedroom door before Y/n’s and Matt’s bedroom door.

Y/n smiles, “Everything’s fine, you’re fathers upset. Go to your room, sweetie.” Y/n says softly, kissing his forehead.

Mailo nods and goes back to his room.

Y/n walks into Ella’s room, shutting the door behind her as Ella was sitting on her bed crisscross apple sauce, sobbing in her hands.

Y/n climbs on the bed with Ella and wraps her arms around her.

Ella wraps her arms around her mother and sobs into her chest, “I’m sorry!” She sobs out, it was heartbreaking.

Y/n shakes her head, “I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m not mad, i’m not disappointed, i love you so much. I don’t care what you do. I just wish you would’ve came to me first. I’ll always have your back, El. Through the good and the bad, for the better or the worst, i’m here, baby, i’m here.” Y/n says, kissing Ella’s forehead.

Ella cries for about 5 minutes more before she starts to talk again, her head still on Y/n’s chest. “I didn’t want to, mommy.” Ella whispers.

“I promise, i didn’t want to b-but then Gavin started saying i wasn’t cool and everyone else was just doing it so i figured why not, and then he gave me one to take home, so that’s why i have it.” Ella explains.

Y/n nods, running her fingers through Ella’s hair, “Okay, okay. You were peer pressured, baby. And that’s not okay but that’s not your fault, you said no and then they insisted, that’s totally not your fault.”

Ella sniffles, “I’m sorry.”

“Look at me, Estrella Leylani.” Y/n uses her daughter’s middle name.

Ella looks up at her mother, “Stop apologizing. Okay, you’re good.” Y/n says.

Ella shakes her head, “Dad hates me. He was so mad and disappointed. He doesn’t love me.” She tears up again.

“No, baby, no. Not at all. He does. I’m gonna go talk to him and then he’ll talk to you. I’ll calm him down, alright?” Y/n asks, Ella nods.

Y/n smiles, kissing her daughter’s forehead one more time before walking out of the room and into her and Matt’s room.

Matt looks up, he was pacing around the room, him biting his nails.

He wipes his hands on his pants, “Why would she not say anything? i mean, what has gotten into her? There’s no-”

Y/n grabs Matt’s hand and stops him from pacing, “Matt, baby. Listen to me. For a second, slow down.” Y/n says softly.

Matt takes a breath and looks at her, standing still now.

Y/n let’s out a breath, “She was peer pressured, some kid told her she wasn’t cool because she didn’t vape and everyone was so it just happened.” Y/n explains.

Matt’s angry expression drops, “But- she- why- who would even-”

“So, you can go and talk to her, but seriously, lose all the negativity you have because right now she thinks you don’t love her, and she’s really fucking upset.” Y/n tells him.

Matt lets out a shaky breath, “Okay, but i do love her, so much, she’s my baby.” Matt says in a quiet tone.

Y/n nods, bringing her hands up to his cheeks, rubbing back and forth on his stubble, “I know that, she knows that. But she’s not really feeling much of the love, Matt. You scared her, you swore at her.”

Matt scoffs, “I was just mad-”

“I know, baby. I know. So, go and talk to her. She needs you, i know she does.” Y/n says, putting a sad smile on her face.

Matt nods, leaning down and kissing Y/n softly. “Okay, i love you.” He says, resting his forehead on hers for a second.

“I love you too.” Y/n whispers before Matt leaves the room.

Matt slowly walks into Ella’s room, seeing her on her bed, picking at her fingers as she sits up, sniffles coming from her.

“Ella?” Matt says softly.

She looks up, noticing him now. “Daddy? i’m so sorry.” She sobs.

Matt shakes his head and comes over to her, embracing her in a big hug. “I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have snapped. I should’ve asked you why, i love you, i’m not mad at you, baby. I’ll never be mad at you and i’ll always love you.” Matt rants.

“I didn’t want to!” Ella sobs into his neck.

Matt tears up, “I know, my love. I know. And i’m sorry i swore at you, i didn’t mean it, your mother and i love you so much and we just want the best for you, okay? We good now?” Matt pulls away to look at Ella, wiping her tears with his thumbs, his hands staying on her cheeks.

She nods and sniffles, Matt places a kiss in the middle of her forehead before hugging her again.

Y/n walks in the room and joins the hug, “Mailo!” Y/n yells.

“What?!” He groans from his room.

“Get in here, buddy!” Matt yells as they all continue to hug.

Mailo then comes in the room, “I’m not joining that.” He says shaking his head in disgust, talking about the hug.

Matt scoffs playfully before pulling away from the hug, going and picking up Mailo and throwing him on Ella’s bed as Y/n and Ella laugh.

“Dad!” Mailo groans as they all hug each other.

Safe to say after this Ella stopped smoking, continued to stay friends with Shay and Shawn but dropped Gavin, Jackson, and Hailey.

—————————

alright i’m done for tonight i hope you guys liked this long fic

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #spotify #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you

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808airsoftbros · 6 months

Text

Yujin's Wake Up Call

Author: This is a simple short story nothing too special and something that came to my mind that I want to write. If you want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist.

Author's POV

It was another busy day at Starship, the IVE girls recently returned from their world tour and they were indeed exhausted after travelling the world for the past several months.

Yujin especially was tired along with the girls but she was disheartened when she heard that they would be visiting a patient with cancer as part of the wish foundation.

"Can you girls go for me? I'm too tired," Yujin asked and Gaeul rolled her eyes.

"Are you serious, Yujin? I get that you're tired from travelling the world but our manager says will be getting a whole month break afterward and we can do whatever we want from there," Gaeul pointed out and Yujin groaned.

"Yeah, and also our fans mean alot to us, and what about you?" Rei asked and Yujin scoffed.

"What are you on about? I'm only being nice because I have to and I hate that I have to be fake!" Yujin complained and Gaeul shook her head in disappointment.

Sadly, Yujin can be lazy at times, she'd be often caught slacking in dance practices when off camera, and you can bet every dollar that she tried every excuse you could think of to get out of her work.

This would annoy her members especially Gaeul and they'd always be fighting and arguing with one another.

"Yujin, do not start this shit again... We've been over this how many God damn times already?! When are you ever going to change?!" Gaeul angrily asked and Yujin rolled her eyes.

"When management doesn't constantly make us work to death," She answered spitefully.

"Well, if you do not behave, Ms. An Yujin, you will be one sorry woman, do you hear me?" Gaeul coldly warned but Yujin shrugged it off.

Because of how she always tends to act, the crew and management, and even her own members don't like nor respect her, but she doesn't seem to care.

Yujin also tends to have bad habits of drinking and smoking too much and Gaeul always catches her vaping when she's not supposed to.

Wonyoung and Yujin's friendship began deteriorating as she was fed up with her antics and was disheartened to see her friend changing for the worse.

One quiet night, Yujin snuck out of the dorm without waking up the girls and sat on a bench to smoke and drink.

It was quite foggy and there were hardly any noises to be heard besides the slight sounds of the breeze which was perfect for her.

"Perfect. No one to bother me," Yujin muttered as she takes a sip of soju.

"Excuse me," She heard a feminine voice asked and she turned to see a unfamiliar woman.

Yujin jumped in surprise as she didn't notice the woman approaching her.

"W-what do you want?" She nervously asked.

"Oh, sorry for startling you, it's quite a foggy night is it?" She kindly asked.

"I guess you can say that..." Yujin muttered to her and took a puff from her pod.

"Shouldn't idols be limiting how much they drink and smoke?" The woman asked as she sat down next to her.

"Why is it your business?" She snarled and the woman frowned.

Seeing Yujin's attitude, the woman just stared at her intently and then gave her a cold demeanor.

"I'll tell you why you're here... It's because you're lazy, useless, and a pathetic excuse of an idol," The woman coldly said and Yujin was taken aback.

"Who the fuck are you to judge me?! I can't help but get overwhelmed sometimes! Maybe if you were an idol then you'd understand!" Yujin retorts and the woman shook her head.

"Tsk. Overwhelmed? Only because you just have to visit a special patient? Is that your only excuse? As someone who has a chronic heart condition, you disgust me," The woman angrily replied and Yujin was now lost for words trying to come up with the words.

"I-" She was about to say but was cut off.

"Shut it! Did you know I was once an idol like you? I couldn't practice or sing on some days but I still give it my all! Unlike you, who has a management who at least cares for you and would get you the help you need... My management never cared for me, if they don't see me as efficient... Poof, they will simply get rid of me like I'm sort of a piece of garbage meant to be disposed of," The woman explained her story and Yujin gulped in fear.

"Every day I have to work through excruciating pain! The only person who ever cared for me was the custodian who works here, and I have to keep working no matter what just to survive, and here I see a spoiled rotten you always coming up with excuses just to get out of work! You leave me speechless... Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" The woman coldly asked with a tear shedding from her eye and Yujin tried to shrug off the feeling of guilt but no matter how hard she tried... It lingered inside of her but she refused to show it.

"There are many other idols left forgotten in the winds of time and talents wasted, they would give anything to be in your position yet you couldn't care less... It's pitiful," She finished and Yujin was boiling deep inside.

"And who the hell are you?!" Yujin asked her and the woman grinned.

"Consider me your wake up call, An Yujin, I hope one day you realize the error of your ways... Goodnight," The woman bid goodbye and got up from the bench.

Yujin watched as the mysterious woman walked into the fog and vanished out of sight.

After that, Yujin was left angry and confused, she wondered who the woman was as she had never met or heard of her. She quickly concludes her drinking and smoking session and goes back inside the building.

When she got into the corridor she finds the janitor Jake sweep mopping the floor.

"Hey, Jake!" Yujin called out and he paused.

"Yes?" Jake replied and Yujin sighs.

"Do you happen to know a woman who was an idol here? She claims to have a heart condition but... I don't know she's making it up or not to trick me into making me feel bad," She asked and Jake frowned before looking down.

Jake goes into his pocket pulling out a picture of the very same woman that Yujin encountered earlier and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Is this the woman you're referring to?" Jake asked as he showed the photo.

"Y-yes, that's her alright, who is she?" She curiously asked and he deeply sighed.

"Her name is Jennifer Jung, she was once a trainee here, she was also the sister of Jessica and Krystal Jung, but she had a severe and chronic heart condition... I tried my best to help her when management wasn't looking but it wasn't enough, she perished five months into her training," He explained the story and sighed once more.

Yujin froze in terror and shivers were sent down her spine as she could hardly believe that she was talking to the spirit of Jennifer this whole time.

She didn't know what to make of it but Jake didn't see her as a crazy person and he already figured she saw Jennifer. Yujin returns to her dorm and Jake continues his janitorial duties.

After that night, Yujin was a changed woman much to everyone's surprise, she eventually quit smoking and stopped drinking as much, although she mostly kept to herself, she stopped complaining and followed their schedules.

Yujin and the girls visited the hospital patient without issues or trouble much to management's delight and they were happy they were able to deliver someone's last dying wish.

Sometimes Yujin felt the urge to return to her old habits but refused and kept going no matter what. Yujin would never forget that encounter that night.

She never saw Jennifer again but on some foggy nights, she felt her presence was near but never again would she take anything for granted.

#short story #kpop #kpop idol #kpop gg #ive #an yujin #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #yujin #ive leeseo #lee hyunseo #ive liz #gaeul #kim gaeul #rei #naoi rei #kpop oneshot

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gigisriley · 2 months

Note

wait people say charpim is toxic or that they wouldn't work out as a healthy relationship??? im so confused is this just angst being grafted onto them or is there a valid argument to be made here?

Im new to the smiling friends fanbase btw and mostly am a lurker that seldom comes by to see fan content lel

first off, WARGGGHHH thank you for the ask i’m literally SO excited to answer!!!

rambling below the cut!!

i’m in two camps on this one. I think charpim in its CURRENT state definitely wouldn’t work. BUT Pim is definitely the kind of person who has the capacity to help Charlie. Pim is a very affectionate guy, and he’s open, honest and sincere. Hle’s very genuine, compassionate and beyond kind. In other words, he’s *exactly* what Charlie needs. Pim can make him better.

Charlie isn’t a bad guy. He’s far from it, actually. His whole job revolves around making people smile, even if his goal is a paycheck and not that fuzzy feeling you get in your chest when you make someone’s day better.

But he’s a very flawed guy. In Charlie goes to Hell and Doesn’t Come Back, I remember reading somewhere that Micheal and Zach wanted to originally make Charlie vape in the beginning, but the studio wouldn’t let them. So they settled on energy drinks. Thats why The Devil says “I can quit my addicted vices whenever I want”- this is supposed to be a moment of realization for Charlie. He can see himself in The Devil in that moment.

In Erm, The Boss Finds Love? Charlie literally gets shitfaced at the wedding. Even as he walks into the break room the next day, he says “I can’t keep doing this. Something’s gotta change, brother.” in reference to his hangover. He’s unhappy with where he is, and he recognizes there is a problem. But he doesn’t do anything to fix that. In the alien episode, both him AND Pim get shitfaced.

Charlie also instigates fights. In both Charlie Dies and Doesn’t Come back and the alien episode, Charlie’s the one to stir the pot. When they go looking for a tree to chop down, Pim keeps a level head and calm voice. Charlie’s the one who raises his voice and takes the axe to the tree. Charlie instigates thus fights with the dudebro aliens, literally egging them on. He’s so caught up in this that he literally elbows Pim in the face.

Plus, you never want to get into a relationship with someone under the notion that you can “fix” them. More often than not, people don’t change. It takes a MAJOR life event or some kind of trauma for someone to change. And Charlie, in the face of LITERALLY being given a second chance, continues to drink, instigate fights, and give in to his addictive vices.

In his current state, Charlie would definitely be the ‘toxic’ one in the relationship. He’d instigate fights, come home drunk out of his gourd, and he’d hurt Pim emotionally. Whether or not he’d hurt him on purpose is up for debate. Pim would overexert himself trying to keep them together, and fall apart. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.

Charlie needs to change if they’re going to work. He needs to get better. THATS why I think they wouldn’t work, at least not yet.

At the end of the day they’re just silly little guys in a cartoon about Friends Who Smile so i’m probably reading WAY too much into a guy who looks like a peep. But oh well. To be cringe is to be free.

(ID LOVE to talk more about this—- if anyone has any comments on this or disagrees, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know in the notes. i like talking about my silly little pink and yellow middle aged men)

#THIS WAS SO FUN TO ANSWER #OH MY GOD THANK UOU FOR ASKING ME #tumblr user asswipe56 i 🫡 u #this is also a big reason i wrote creature of habit too #i wanted to work out a situation where it would literally FORCE charlie to better himself wether he liked it or not #i just want them to be happy 🥺#asked and answered #asks #charpim #smiling friends #charlie dompler #pim pimling

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fudanshidoublevision · 7 months

Text

It's pretty funny how the three love interests have something in common 。。。。besides their obvious interest (Haley) and obsession (Double Vision and Ray) towards the MC of the game.

The three of them smoke, which might be something banal for some but I like to hold into small details like these and make up stuff.

Haley takes smoke breaks, Ray smokes when he is in your apartment and Double isn't shown smoking in the game but he does on his birthday illustration. ᶘ ⊙ᴥ⊙ᶅ

Not sure if that was on purpose or just a coincidence but either way, it makes sense to me.

Ray, especially, the fact that he smokes.

Considering that he spent most of his pre-teen and teenage years until he was 18 years old living with Steel Sheriff and remember, Steel Sheriff is a shitty person and a BAD influence, so it makes sense that maaaybe that bad habit was influenced by that horrendous man and Ray took a hold into it.

Ray strikes me as the type of guy who's addicted to nicotine and honestly? I don't blame him at all, that man went through so much shit since he came out of his mother's womb so if he EVEN chain smokes, it wouldn't faze me at all.

Not sure if Ray smokes only at night but someone dear to me does and well, the only time of the day Ray is completely free of any duty is at night, as far as i've seen? Also, smoking at night sounds...right to me, he takes notice of you and opens the window so he isn't stinking up your place...which is surprising, the only smokers I know always smoke in secluded places and I can smell it all the way into my bedroom. ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

I'm aware that nicotine has some benefits but we are talking about Ray, who is freaking Binary Star, HIS ABILITY???? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. /j This man does not GAF about the side effects or the benefits of smoking. Out of the three I believe that Ray is free from any illnesses or any type of side effects, heh.

Now, Haley, they are shapeshifter...? Correct me if I'm wrong, im an amateur on the Haley department. Crazy idea but imagine if they smoke on their cat form, holy fucking shit. Their brain, gastrointestinal system or even their heart is not safe though...but I believe that they can easily shift into any animal with the strongest lungs ever and live another day without being worried about any complications? Huh, this sounds batshit crazy so I think I'll stop writing this part.

Like Ray, Haley seems to smoke as a sedative, what if they smoke herbal cigarettes? Also, I believe that they can easily quit if they want to (heh, now that I'm reading this part i forgot that this is something most addicts say, LOL.) , which I beg to differ when it comes to Ray or Double, I don't judge them, just an observation I guess.

At last, my favorite character and current obsession, Double Vision.

Cigarette smoking, yeah but what about vaping? He looks like the type of guy that would vape or maybe is it too tame for him? Maybe he wants something stronger. Wait, does anyone really need a reason to smoke? ಠಿ_ಠ

People say that vaping is less hazardous than smoking but to me? It's the same thing, most e-cigarretes contain nicotine but yeah, you are inhaling smoke from burning tobacco when you smoke a cigarette. I don't know anything about vaping. It's pretty popular in my country though, never tried it but my friend told me that vaping feels and tastes different from smoking, so I believe their judgement.

Forgive my yapping, like I was saying! He isn't safe from the lung cancer, at all. Yeah, this man can do sick tricks with the smoke, for sure... I'm not going to name any because I might be wrong but you name it and maaaaaaaybe he would be capable of doing it, if you can do something for him back, of course. Oh, I'm 100% sure this freakazoid throws the smoke in your face on purpose, I find that hot actually...if only my nostrils and eyes could say the same about that. If he does that, I'll be coughing like I have asthma until I die.

Hmm, I can't think of when he started smoking...maybe on his teenage years? After all, I think it was at that time that he started to get along with shady people and ugly business. The power of influence and their ambience might be a big factor of this habit on these guys. Heavy on Ray.

That's everything I could think of. For now.

If you are a real person, don't smoke, I guess?. Do whatever you want BUT DON'T BE TELLING ANYONE THAT TUMBLR USER fudanshidoublevision encouraged you to do it.

If you are fictional character, yassss smoke all you want beautiful inexistent individual, you don't exist after all!

GODDAMN!!!!!! I MIGHT START SMOKING RIGHT NOW IF I CAN LOOK THIS HOT 😍😍😍 GIVE ME THAT CIGARETTE 🔥🔥🔥

#binary star hero #bsh double vision #bsh haley #bsh ray #binary star #my goofy ahh writing #actually i feel like this post doesn't deserve this tag but rather #overnalyzing writing

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muldermuse · 8 months

Text

Guardian Angel (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

this was based on a prompt i recieved!

18+ only!! mdni!! warning: reader is briefly knocked unconscious in the fic! not by Gator but by an anonymous male who is never named/identified. mentions of bad childhood/abusive parents. mentions of police brutality. mentions of smut. being in a hospital/back of an ambulance. Gator and Roy are threatening in this and mean about reader. Angst!!! lil bit of fluff! more angst?? Unhappy ending (no character deaths tho do not worry)

I’m sorry :/

Part of the two sinners works! Read more here!

Gator Tillman had no choice but to become a Sheriff, he idolised his Father and saw the respect that surrounded him. No one ever questions Roy Tillman; at least, not if they value their own life. Gator had witnessed firsthand the brutality that his father inflicted on his community when wearing the badge. One of Gator’s happiest childhood memories was his daddy letting him wear his cowboy hat and his Sheriff’s badge. Roy Tillman’s eyes were full of pride as he looked as his young son, “you’ll make a fantastic Sheriff one day, boy”. Any other dreams that young Gator were quashed in that moment, ever since that day when his Father looked at him and saw the potential Gator could grow up to have- he knew he had to be a Sheriff.

Unfortunately, Gator Tillman never wanted to be a good Sheriff. He didn’t actually care about helping people or being a beacon of hope for his community. Gator, like his Father, loved the power that came with the badge. Without it, he was some loser daddy’s boy but with it; he felt he was unstoppable. As much as Roy Tillman ignored his son, he knew him too well and he knew what little ability Gator actually had. So, Gator was always on the quietest shifts and he was always paired with an older colleague who could actually do the job. In his father’s eyes; Gator was still a little kid playing dress up. So here he is, browsing the disposable vape collection in his local gas station to fill the time until he can clock out. The clerk looks away and Gator slips a watermelon mango flavour into his pocket. He throws a few dollars on the counter and takes a bag of Takis before heading back to the patrol car. Maybe he can convince his patrol partner to drive him to a diner to get a coffee to kill a few more hours or maybe he’ll have an uncomfortable nap across the back seat.

Then a call comes in.

“Dispatch, please respond. We have a call for assistance at The Outpost Bar about 4 minutes from your current location. Seems that an altercation between two men has escalated and a young lady has got hurt, ambulance is nearly there as she’s knocked out”.

Gator picks up the radio as his colleague starts speeding to the bar, “Heard- name of victim?”.

Bile rises in his throat and he feels his stomach drop.

It’s your name.

Before he can even process what has happened; the patrol car arrives on the scene and sees the ambulance outside the front of the bar.

He knows his job is to find the guy who’s done this and get him in the back of the car. He knows the ambulance and the paramedics are there to help you. But he also knows that you’re currently unconscious on the floor of a shitty dive bar and that’s all he can focus on. His heart is thundering in his ears as he runs into the bar, his colleague is shouting his name after him to try and discuss a plan before entering the bar. He needs to see you, what if the call was wrong? You never mentioned that you’d be heading out tonight. You never really tell him anywhere you’re going though. He wishes you would but he can’t think about that now.

The inside of the bar is nearly empty, the lights are up and there’s a group of women stood around someone lying on the floor. The shoes he can see are a pair of black boots- has he ever seen you wear those? Would you wear something like that? The thought in his head are moving too quick for him to comprehend. He tries to make his way over to the huddle of women on the floor but he sees a familiar face first. It’s Jenson Ackerley, the guy you brought to the church pot luck, the guy that you’d told Gator you never planned on seeing again after blowing him off for him. Gator had seen a few texts from Jenson pop up on your phone but you were seemingly quick to ignore them. He’s stood at the bar, he’s holding his head in his hands and looks relieved when he sees law enforcement come in.

“Thank god you’re here, they fuckin’ ran off after they shoved her. She hit her head and then they fuckin’ ran off. She’s breathin’ fine so sh-“ he sounds relieved as he speaks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as if he’s a concerned partner. You’re not his partner, Gator isn’t either but he’s closer to it than this fucking guy. A rage flushes across his face as Gator grabs Jenson’s plaid shirt in his fists and pushes him against the concrete wall of the bar. He spits at Jenson’s feet before speaking to him, “What the fuck happened? Why the fuck didn’t you step in? Some fuckin’ quarterback huh?” He shoves him harder; feeling rejoice in the nerves filling Jenson’s eyes "Lettin’ her get hit while you just fuckin’ stand there holdin’ your fuckin' dick?”. Jenson’s face contorts in confusion, he tries to respond before Gator punches him hard in his lower stomach. He grabs Jenson’s cheeks and pushes his head further into the cold, hard concrete of the wall as he whispers low in his ear “I fuckin’ swear on my fuckin’ Dad’s life- if something happens to her, I’ll fuckin’ kill you”. The hard grip of his hand gets tighter on Jenson’s face, Jenson’s face would be flushing red if it were not for the fact that all blood seems to have drained from his face with nerves. Gator’s smirk is predatory, “‘m a fuckin’ Sheriff y’know- I can make it look like an accident”.

He can hear your voice, it’s mumbled and strained- but it is distinctly you.

Gator turns that quick he feels a bout of nausea hit him, it’s doubled when he sees you being moved out of the dingy bar on a stretcher. You look confused but a flash of recognition and reassurance flutters through your expression when you realise it’s him.

“Gator?” Your voice is slow as if your wading through thick molasses to whisper his two syllable name. He grabs your hand, it’s ice cold and he knows that it’s the shock your poor body has been through this evening. Your hand meekly trembles in his and it occurs to Gator that he’s never seen you as vulnerable as this.

“Yeah-yeah it’s me, hi” His voice is the softest it’s ever been with you as he tenderly presses a hand to your face. This isn’t the same man who two days ago called you a whore as you rode his cock in his Daddy’s bed and this certainly isn’t the man who’s last text simply told you to fuck off and leave him alone. This isn’t your Gator. But right now, this isn’t you. When you look back, you both won’t recognise the other in this moment.

But fiercely, you’ll both take the tenderness right now. You both desperately need it.

Gator will come to always crave it.

***

He insisted to his colleague that he’d go with you in the ambulance. The paramedic was too preoccupied with checking your vitals to notice that Gator held your hand the entire way. When tears filled your eyes due to pure confusion about your current situation, he’d press a soft kiss to your under eyes and mumble to you that it was going to be okay. He wasn’t leaving your side until it was all okay- he promised.

“I swear on it, okay baby. Me and you” he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it. Tenderly, he moves your hair out of your face as you nod in agreement. You wanted to believe him with every ounce of your body and soul but your mouth is too dry to beg him to stay; you’re not sure if you’re asking for tonight or for forever.

Gator’s watching you intently, he’s memorising the different parts of your face- just in case. Of course nothing’s going to happen to you, he’s sure of it. But just in case, he’s logging to his memory the soft curve of your lips, always a little pouty and so fucking pretty when you wear that lip gloss that drives him wild. The little furrow in your brow, always more prominent when you’re worried or plotting how you can try and fuck up Gator’s week by saying something calculating.

Your eyes flicker shut as the paramedic rests a hand on Gator’s shoulder, “you’re a good boyfriend. Half the guys don’t even want to come in the back and the others usually try to calm themselves rather than their partners. You’re a good man”. The irony isn’t missed on him, he is someone’s boyfriend but he’s not yours. His girlfriend has never received this tenderness from him. Gator Tillman is a lot of things but he is definitely not a good man. In this moment, however, he is trying to be.

He doesn’t thank the paramedic, he just nods and keeps your small hand in his. He doesn’t want his mind to wander and consider how things would be if you were in a relationship. You’d drive him mad, he’s sure of it but with Glenda; he feels nothing. He considers that at least anger is an emotion. Better than an emotionally vacant relationship.

The ambulance comes to a sudden stop and he feels your hand grip his tighter, your eyes are open and as the paramedic works to open the door; Gator is reassuring you that everything’s going to be okay.

“Promise that you’ll stay?” your voice is hesitant and soft. You feel emotionally exposed right now and it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling.

Gator presses a kiss to your forward quickly, conscious of the paramedic trying to get your stretcher out of the vehicle and onto a ward. “Of course baby, as soon as they find you a room- I’ll be there. Okay? I swear it”. You begin to cry as you nod and Gator desperately wants to kiss you more to console you but you’re wheeled out before he gets the chance.

Your hands are pulled apart as your stretcher gets wheeled into the hospital. He’s lost in his thoughts until a familiar authoritative voice booms behind him.

“Gator?”

It’s his father.

Gator feels the blood drain from his body and he tries to stop his hands trembling before he turns around.

Roy’s hands are on his hips as he glares at Gator. He’s dressed in his usual cowboy hat and denim jacket. His father’s presence always makes Gator nervous. With one look from Roy Tillman, Gator is transported back to being a four year old meek child who had accidentally broken a vase, terrified of his father’s reaction but simultaneously in awe of the authoritarian berating him for his mistake. He’d seen them holding hands, Gator takes a second to thank the lord that that is all his father had seen.

His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, he can’t speak and if he could; he doesn’t even know what he would say. There’s no reason for it. Why would he be holding your hand? Why would he travel in the back of the ambulance with you? It isn’t protocol and, for all Roy knows, Gator does not like you. He isn’t even supposed to know you. His father had warned Gator about you from the first time he had seen you.

“She’s a sinner that girl- I don’t want her corrupting you. Showing you her worldly ways, you are not to speak to her- y’hear me?” What Roy didn’t know is by that time, you’d already started sleeping together. Both of you taking the time to learn each other’s bodies intimately. You made Gator feel things he never had before but that didn’t matter- you were a dirty sinner. It never crosses Gator’s mind that he could be a sinner too.

The paramedic reemerges from the hospital and before Gator can intercept, she tells him that ‘his girlfriend’ is on ward 6.

“I’ve told her that you’ll be up soon to see her. She’s still a bit upset so maybe head up after you’ve finished speaking with the Sheriff” the paramedic is kind. Her words are soft and considered and her eyes look up at Gator as if he’s a great man. He hopes that this paramedic will keep Gator in her mind as an attentive and considerate partner. She may be the only person who would ever think of Gator Tillman in that way. Roy smiles at the paramedic but it doesn’t meet his eyes; Gator realises that his smile never does.

After she leaves, there’s a moment of silence. It feels too long and uncomfortable.

***

“I don’t know what’s happenin’ with you and that girl b-“

“Dad” Gator scoffs, as if the idea is ridiculous “nothin’s happenin’. I answered the call so I was there and y’know, I’m the Sheriff- it’s my job to make sure she’s safe. Well, not ju-“

Roy takes Gator’s shirt in his fists and slams him against the wall of the hospital. The thud of Gator’s head hitting the concrete echoes across the vacant space. Roy spits in Gator’s face as he whispers sternly, “Do not fuckin’ lie to me. You’re a worse fuckin’ liar than your fuckin’ mother”.

He can’t speak, as hard as Gator’s mouth tries to form words, it lets him down and makes him look weak in front of his father. Just as he did when he was younger; Gator takes the emotional beating from his father.

“You got a good christian woman at home and I don’t think that Glenda would want to hear about you in the back of an ambulance with her- agree?”

He nods, his mind is empty as all he feels is blind panic. Will Roy tell Glenda? As soon as he loses her, he loses his father’s approval- something he’s spent years cultivating. He can’t lose her; it’s not a choice. Roy robs him of the chance to speak.

Roy’s hand is firm on Gator’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh. “What have I told you from day one about that girl, son?”. His eyes are unwavering on his son’s, Gator realises he has not seen his dad blink throughout this entire interaction.

“That she’s a sinner” it comes out too easy and Roy smirks in response. He’s made his father happy and he feels he can speak again. His chest not as tight as it felt a few moments ago.

Roy’s hand gets tighter on Gator’s shoulder and it begins to feel uncomfortable. “Tell me what you think of her” he nods to prompt Gator to speak. Gator briefly imagines if he could tell him the truth, how would he describe what he thinks of you? He’s unsure if he even allows himself to think about you when you’re apart. The thought of you living unfiltered in his mind is far too much. You need to be a box locked away in Gator’s depraved mind. There’s no key because it never needs opening.

He stutters as he goes to speak, “well…we all know what she’s like right? She’s a fuckin’ whore” Roy nods in encouragement as a shy smile breaks across Gator’s face. “Yeah, I mean, she’s probably dating about 10 different guys- right? I mean, I saw her with Jenson and then with some other fuckin’ guy like two days later. Glenda doesn’t like ‘er- thinks the same as me”.

Roy is content, his grip on his son’s shoulder eases as he smiles brightly at Gator. “We’re not gonna look for the guys that did this- didn’t happen. You were doin’ a routine check at the bar and that’s it. I’ve already told Williams that that’s what’s happened- I’ve sorted it for you, son”

Son.

That one syllable word is a warm blanket on a cold night. A ice cold glass of water in the hottest desert. A three course meal after a day of raw hunger.

Roy leads Gator away from you, he sits him in the patrol car and drives him home to Glenda. Glenda kisses his cheek softly at the doorway. She’s made a home cooked meal for her hardworking man. The meal tastes like ash on Gator’s tongue. He drinks whiskey to help him sleeps more than usual.

Meanwhile, you are laid alone in a hospital bed. Holding out hope that Gator will return, hopefully with the affection from the ambulance. But of course, Gator doesn’t come back to your room.

You don’t see him again whilst you're in the hospital.

He doesn’t text you for two weeks.

He turns up one late night when you’re back home, he asks if you’re ‘all good’ and you reply that you’ll be fine. You have sex that night and never acknowledge how tender he was to you in your time of need. You’re both rougher than usual, both craving to dominate the other and fuck them into submission. You have to make up for the unjustified kindness.

***

You never see how Gator spends his time off work. When he’s not with you, or with Glenda, or working- he’s trying to find out who did this to you.

He won’t stop searching until the person who did this is found in a ditch.

But you will never know.

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junkissed · 8 months

Text

stoner!svt

their favorite forms of weed + random stoner thoughts

member — svt ot13 x reader genre — headcanons, humor word count — 1.0k warnings — descriptions of marijuana and smoking. there isn't anything explicit or suggestive in this, but my blog is 18+ so minors dni. but whether you're a minor or not, please do not take advice about drugs from strangers on the internet,, i am so unqualified and this is just a reflection of my own experiences so don't take anything here as fact. always use responsibly! notes — huge thanks to @wooahaeproductions @highvern and @gyuwoncheol for brainstorming this with me !! as tumblr's resident stoner huihui i have many more thots about stoner!svt so feel free to stop by my inbox with your ideas to chat 👀

one reblog = one joint hand rolled for you by minghao himself

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seungcheol: dab pen

big bulky man requires a big bulky pen. it hits harder and feels way more intense so he doesn’t care that it’s harder to clean. he also has a dab rig and he thinks it makes him cool and different because he and vernon are the only ones who actually know how to use it

jeonghan: weird shaped bong

he has to be Extra at all times so he has a surprising variety of odd shapes. the tentacle one on his dresser is his most interesting one for sure, but the one shaped like an arcade game machine with actual flashing lights is his favorite. he’s the king of princess treatment so he definitely makes everyone else light his bongs for him; why would he do it himself when there’s a perfectly good coups sitting right there?

joshua: fruity disposable thc pens

he’s made it his life mission to try every flavor once. los angeles is like the vape capital of the world so there is definitely no shortage of flavors for him to try. someone please pack him a normal regular unflavored bowl before all his clothes permanently smell like strawberry ice. he thinks he’s subtle but you can literally smell him a mile away, his scent enters the room before he does

junhui: literally anything

willing to take whatever you’re willing to give: you put any kind of weed in front of him and he’s gonna try it. he really doesn’t have a preference for what form it’s in, as long as he gets to do it with you <3 i can also see him trying edibles in different forms than the usual kinds, like the ones that come in a can like soda or a bag of chips. it’s hard to tell when he’s high because he’s the same amount of giggly as he always is, it’s like a 50/50 chance of whether he’s stoned or just silly

soonyoung: preroll joints

he tries so hard it’s kind of sad but also so funny. he takes one hit and coughs like he's been chainsmoking cigarettes for the last 40 years, then gets tired after 10 minutes and lays facedown on the floor until he falls asleep. he’s not invited to smoke with you anymore because he spills the bong water every single time without fail. he becomes the most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen in your life; imagine drunk hosh, times ten. he sets up his tiger plushies in a circle and passes the joint around like he’s a 4 year old girl having a tea party. he starts crying if one of them feels left out so he has to count and make sure they all get an equal number of hits

jihoon: normal shaped bong

locks himself in and hotboxes the studio. he mostly does it to get out of his own head and chill alone for a while, so don’t even think about interrupting him. he’ll emerge from a cloud of smoke a couple of hours later with 2 new albums, god of light music: the sequel, and a solo for hoshi. he doesn’t let the other members touch his stuff or even know where he hides it

wonwoo: normal shaped bong (dirty)

i hate to play into the dirty gamer boy stereotype that he’s always written as… but he 100% never cleans it. it’s always byob (bring your own bong) when he invites you over because he may be with fine smoking a crusty bowl, but not everyone feels that way sorry dude

minghao: hand-rolled joints

he doesn’t trust anyone to roll but himself. he has fancy expensive organic papers that he got from an exclusive farmer's market and he treats it like an art form but honestly it hits way better when he does it so you don’t question his technique. a hand rolled joint from minghao is like a gift from god

mingyu: homemade edibles

vernon gave him a homemade rice krispie once and he swore it wasn’t hitting so he ate another one... and then passed out on the couch. after vernon gave him the recipe, mr. professional chef here decided he likes to bake them himself but somehow always ends up measuring it wrong and makes them way too strong. on accident or on purpose? we may never know. most likely both. he gets so high he can’t even stand up straight, most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen #2

seokmin: cbd gummies

he takes them to relax or to help him fall asleep rather than to get super high. but he still wanted to feel included with the members who smoke so he tried to buy a cart one time but he bought a melatonin pen on accident instead and they never let him live that down

seungkwan: normal shaped bong (clean)

he takes good care of his stuff and he’s serious about it! he had a bad experience with mold once and now he’s paranoid about remembering to change the bong water. he cleans it daily and keeps everything nice and organized, and he has a bedazzled grinder because if he’s gonna smoke then he’s gonna do it in style obviously

vernon: also literally anything

he’s honestly down for whatever. he prefers smoking over edibles but he doesn’t care if it’s a joint, a pen, a bong. also depends on his mood but the majority of the time it’s whatever is the closest within reach and requires the least amount of effort

chan: 4ft tall bong

how? why does he have that? where did he get it? huh? those are all questions he doesn’t have the answers to either. it’s more of a mascot than anything; it sits in the corner of his living room like a lamp and he doesn’t even use it. he uses a regular bong the majority of the time but only because he’s afraid of breaking the sacred Tall Bong. it’s a big hit at parties

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slutforben · 1 month

Text

here's how i think the creeps smoke and what some of them are like when they're high

i like to think that the pastas with non-physical bodies, or non-human bodies can’t get physically harmed really bad, so doing stuff like drugs doesn’t affect them negatively that much. with me saying that, please don’t take this as inspiration to go do drugs. you are not a creepypasta. you have a physical body ( probably ) and please don’t go do drugs because of this post. anyway, here’s how i think the creeps have a fun saturday night. i am not liable for anything ever.

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Jeff: it’s well known on this blog that this bastard will smoke anything, out of anything, with anything, that he can get his dirty fucking hands on. he doesn’t consider himself a stoner, but he will smoke with someone is invited. or alone, he doesn’t care. i think his favorite drugs are edibles that have like 200mg in them. he eats them all. absolutely fucks them up. then he lays on the living room couch, stoned out of his mind, watching pastas come in and out from their assigned jobs. he thrives knowing that he’s liked just enough by slender to sit on his ass and watch everyone else work. probably vapes too, enjoys menthol and mint flavors most but secretly enjoys fruity flavors, specifically white peach and strawberry. also smokes cigarettes a lot, but nowhere near as much as tim or brian. jeff loves the burn they give in his lungs. when high, he's much more impulsive, much more offensive, much more violent, and just overall more of a jerk off.

BEN: ben definitely vapes as his main choice of getting high; he’s the type of kid in school who skips class to go vape and fiend in the bathroom with the upperclassmen. he knows how to do tricks, how to hold the vapor in hella long, and loves trying to hit multiple vapes at once. i’m talking 4 through his mouth, 1 through his nose all at once. his go to flavors are fruity flavors and his favorite types are geek bars, referred to as “ the geekers. “ loves orange creamsicle, raspberry peach, and mango flavors the most. also smokes weed when he’s home; prefers to smoke with blunts or carts but has a fancy bong that he’s incredibly protective of. smokes indica-type strains mostly, and his favorite time of day to smoke is late night-early morning. he doesn’t mind smoking alone but loves to smoke with jeffery or toby. loves to try to get toby as baked as humanly possible. sometimes, rarely, once in a blue moon type of rare, tim will smoke with ben if he’s had a really boring day. brian and dark link are also regulars during ben’s smoke sessions. silver likes to sit in and hang out too but never joins in. ben would probably have sex high, maybe i’ll make another post about that. the hardest thing he’s ever done was molly, had a really weird trip so now he only sticks to vaping and smoking weed.

toby: he seems like he’d smoke cigarettes the most, but i also like to think that he smokes weed and vapes pretty often. gets his cigarettes from tim, either buying them off him or stealing them. doesn’t have his own weed stash, so he goes to smoke with ben instead and fiend off him. toby has an abnormally high thc tolerance, so it takes a little bit more to get him high, and ben always takes this as a challenge to see how stoned he can get toby. likes minty-flavored vapes, specifically juuls and geekbars. he’s the type of high to sit around and be lazy, be laid back and flirty, and say and do stupider things than usual. the hardest thing he’s ever done was molly with ben, his trip wasn’t as weird and was pretty dope in his opinion, he’d do it again. tries to smoke multiple cigarettes at once, fails and almost throws up.

slenderman: doesn’t smoke often, but has a box of old-timey cigars he keeps on him at all times that he will rarely smoke. he likes the smell of cigars and cigarettes but isn’t fond of the smell of weed that lingers in the Manor halls.

masky: likes his cigarettes, prefers marlboro reds but will smoke any kind. he’s been smoking since his late teens so sometimes he’s got a raspy voice and rough smokers cough that makes you jump if it’s quiet. doesn’t care much for weed, but will smoke with hoodie and ben if he’s had a boring day, or if he’s feeling nostalgic. has hit ben’s vape a couple times, doesn’t mind it and would buy his own if desperate for a buzz and didn’t have his cigarettes on him. ben pays him to buy his vapes and weed since he’s obviously over 21, and in turn he gets ben to pay for his cigarettes. the hardest thing he’s done is coke, tweaked out incredibly hard and then swore to never do it again.

Hoodie: not as heavy of a cigarette smoker as tim is, but still runs out of packs pretty quick. smokes weed more often with ben and jeff than any other person, prefers to smoke it early morning so he can unwind from his workday. he’s the type of high to get really philosophical and have deep conversations, and still wonder about them days after. has hit ben’s vapes but doesn’t really care for it, likes the minty ones more than others but still prefers cigarettes. sometimes buys ben’s stuff if tim can’t get it in exchange for free weed. will smoke multiple cigarettes at once and not throw up. the hardest thing he’s done was pills, has a pretty bad addiction but got himself out of it with tim’s help.

eyeless jack: i can’t see him smoking weed or vaping, or even cigarettes that often. maybe a cigarette every once in a while, but that’s only if he’s stressed out and it’s a really specific setting, or he just barely saved someone’s life and he needs to relieve that build-up. most likely smoked weed a little bit and experimented during college, although never wanted to do anything to hard due to personal experiences with friends and family doing it. the hardest thing he’s ever done was secretly acid, had a terrible trip and will never touch it again.

laughing jack: has done meth before, would probably do it again.

clockwork: she’s a cigarette girl. loves her cigarettes, laughs at ben’s tutti-frutti flavored vape. smokes a lot with tim and brian in the shop, the littered cigarette butts on the ground are hers by a significant amount. the hardest thing she’s done is molly, enjoyed her trip and would do it again probably.

dark link: loves to smoke weed with ben, that’s his preferred way to get high. doesn’t care much for cigarettes cause he doesn’t like the smell, but does enjoy ben’s menthol vapes. loves bongs and joints equally, but loves blunts the most. likes carts a lot too, and will take edibles like they’re candy. he’s the type to get high and get really really flirty, but did we expect anything less from dark? likes to get crossfaded too, but doesn’t ever remember the night before when he wakes up, but ben and his trusty cameras do. the hardest thing he’s ever done is so many shrooms that he thought he was in hell.

glitchy red: prefers weed and vaping over cigarettes, and only likes getting high at night in a group or with at least one other person. fiends off of ben’s vapes, and likes the fruity flavors, specifically strawberry or kiwi. prefers to smoke weed out of bongs or pipes, but will settle for carts or joints. he’s the type of high to also get really flirty and would have sex while high as well. would probably be more experimental too. also really lazy when he’s high, just wants to sit and chill and eat a bunch of food. the hardest thing he’s done is probably shrooms. And the trip was alright.

lost silver: i don’t see him smoking really at all out of shyness and no urge to do it. nobody pressures him, and he doesn’t see the point, so he just kinda hangs out when people are smoking, preferably ben. he has hit ben’s vapes a couple times, didn’t mind the minty flavors but just doesn’t see the enjoyment in it. has hit ben’s bong once, and one hit was enough for him to almost green out.

nina: she LOVES her girly flavored vapes. doesn’t care much for cigarettes or weed, but will smoke ben’s bong in exchange for gossip she hears around that he hasn’t picked up on yet. loves hitting ben’s tutti-frutti vapes, and will chief his dead ones from him. likes strawberry, pina colada, and white grape the most. when she’s high she gets really energized and talkative and will yap your ear off. ben is her vape plug, she tells him what she wants and he sends tim out to get it. hardest thing she’s done i imagine could be acid or shrooms.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta blog #jeff the killer #ben drowned #ticci toby #clockwork #slenderman #masky and hoodie #tim masky #hoodie #nina the killer #smoking #eyeless jack #laughing jack #dark link #lost silver #glitchy red

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