#HELLO . this fucking Possessed me like i truly don’t even know what happened
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falling in love in the cruelest way
dnf | 7.2k words | rated teen
friends to lovers, jealous dream, pining and tension and pining and tension and pining and tension and
#HELLO . this fucking Possessed me like i truly don’t even know what happened#iactually feel very insane about this fic like writing this activated something so genuinely evil inside of me imcryign#I Hope U Enjoy.#sage.fics#dnf fic
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Ticci toby x Reader // fem reader
these are general dating and nsfw hc’s so beware!!
TW’s: fighting, slight angst, reader is friends with Nina the Killer, & smut
AN: i love toby sm, he’s def my fav creep. this one is a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂. btw this is half reread so there maybe some mistakes here and there
SFW
toby’s bipolar so a relationship with him is hard but you both work your way through it
he never wants to fight but he can’t control it sometimes
he truly does love but it happens
most of your fights are because he gets jealous or he is just upset about something else
you were laying in bed, just mindlessly scrolling on your phone. reading something that you’d forget a minute later. you were broken from your trance when you heard the door open to see your boyfriend walk in. no hi or hello so you knew something was up.
you immediately got up and walked over to him as Toby was taking off his hoodie and mask. you reached over to his hand to hold it and Toby slapped it away.
“are… you okay? you can talk to me, ya know.” you ask him concerned
“get the fuck away from me.” Toby said firmly. your eyes widened, stepping back and giving him some space. you already knew what was gonna happen next so you just decided to leave
“where the fuck are you going? what? think i’m gonna hurt you or or or or or something? cause i’m ssssssssooOoooOo f-f-f-fucked up?!” Toby yelled. all you did was grab your phone and walk out then booking it to Nina’s room
thats how most of you fights go, he never tries to get physical but it can happen
he apologizes like crazy after, usually with tears cuz he thinks you’ll leave him
and because he’s so nervous and scared, his tic’s are going off like crazy
with all his stuttering, random phrases and sobbing, he’s very hard to understand
you sat on Nina’s floor of her room as she brushed and played with your hair while you talked about what happened. you knew everything would be okay but you were just worried about Toby. you were thinking about asking Slender to lay off on the missions for a while
“look, babes, i know you’re worried about him but you should be worried about yourself too!! how many more fights can you take?” Nina spoke worrying.
“we really don’t fight a lot!! and plus we only do when he’s upset, i know he doesn’t actually want to fight!! you just don’t see how he is after.” you said firmly. it felt weird to defend him but you knew that he wasn’t actually pissed at you
Nina sighs as you pass her a hair tie and she finishes off your braid. you both hear a knock on the door, immediately knowing who it is. you glance back at Nina and she gets up to open the door.
“well hello Toby, i’ve been waiting” Nina says. “you better give her a good apology.” she says firmly but quietly as she walked out. Toby walked in and sat on the floor next to you. you both sat in silence for about a minute.
“i’m so sssSsSsorry, i’m truly sorry. i shouldn’t h-h-have done t-t-that, i had no reason to be maDDd aaaaatt you.” Toby finally spoke up, immediately starting to sob. you sighed, smiling.
“oh baby, im not mad. i know you don’t actually wanna fight.” you said softly. he looked over to you, tears streaming down his dirty face. you cupped his face a wiped away what you could, pulling him into you closer.
“what do you say we hop in the shower, your still covered in dirt and blood.” you said chuckling. all the boy could was nod.
on a happier note! other than the once in a while fights, Toby is actually very sweet but he can get possessive
he’s only somewhat controlling. he doesn’t really like the idea of you belonging to him but you are his
if that even makes sense 😭
he will call stuff like “mine, my love, my baby” etc etc
he’ll let you go out in revealing clothes but he has to be near you at all times
you and Toby were walking around the outside of the mansion (slender wouldn’t you guys leave). you were wearing almost booty shorts and an off the shoulder band tee. Toby thought you looked so cute, he was obsessed with your outfit.
you guys were just holding hands and talking about whatever, Toby leaving an occasional kissing on your hand here and there. it wasn’t that hot out this morning, it was nice. not much wind either. all of the sudden, Toby stopped walking
“what? what happened?” you asked confused. no answer but he let go of your hand and walked up to the corner you guys were about to turn. peeking his head around the corner like a cat only to see Jeff the killer practicing with his knives.
he immediately takes off his hoodie and wraps it around your hips, leaving him with a wifebeater and a pair of baggy cargo shorts on. instead of taking your hand this time, he grabs for your waist
he then starts walking, you following in his lead. you glance over at Jeff then back to Toby and right there, you immediately figured out what was happening. and you couldn’t lie, it was kinda sweet
he’s got a lot of respect for you, and women just in general
like what do you mean you go through horrible pain and bleeding once a month but still have to deal with sexism?
it doesn’t add up for him
he’s always had a respect for women because of his mother and sister being the only reason he actually survived his childhood
he’s always trying to break the gender roles in your relationship
“ no, i can cook today. no, you should be on top. no, im not calling you my bitch. no, ill never call you a bitch.”
he HATES when people call their partner “my bitch” or anything like that
moving on!
bros a cuddle bug
all up and on you whenever and wherever
PDA is his personal favorite
Toby’s top 5 favorite ways to cuddle!:
5: you laying on your stomach while Toby sits on your ass or back
4: him laying on top of you
3: standard spooning (preferably you being little spoon)
2: sitting on your lap or the over way around
1: honeymoon cuddle, which means sleeping sideways and trying to get as close together as possible
it was a pretty busy day at the mansion and Slender had given you chores all day while most of the others were out killing. most of the proxy’s got night missions, which means Toby would be back pretty late. you wanted to be up when he came back so you picked up a book and began to read it.
it was around 11:48pm when Toby came back. he walked into your room to take off his shoes, mask, hoodie, goggles, and leave his axe too. he quickly ran over to you with a heavy breath
you looked up from your book and stared into the boys dark brown eyes. he kissed you passionately, almost starting a makeout session with you. his hands cupped your face as he started kissing you faster. but then he pulled away
“oh g-g-god, i’ve been waiting for that all day. i’m gonna gooOoo showEr, kay? i love you and ill be right back” Toby explained before leaving one more quick kiss on your cheek
when Toby came back and changed into his pjs, he immediately crawled into your arms. he was sat in your lap and was definitely more important than that book you were reading before. you started to rub small circles into his back
“oh love, i’ve been a bit worried about you. i swear, slender needs to stop sending you on these night missions before i get a heart attack.” you said, pressing small kisses onto his face here and there
“babe, i know you don’t like them and believe me, i don’t ether. but please just trust me, ill be okay. i mean slender has sent me on a mission that lasted a week before and i have no doubt it will happen again. these missions are like nothing to me.” the boy reassured you
you smiled, kissing his cold lips passionately. you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. his hands immediately went to your waist, sliding up and down slowly. lets just say you guys made out for the rest of the night
NSFW
this man is a FREAK.
he always makes sure you’re satisfied, you are his top priority
he wants to hold your tits during sex. not grab but just touch ‘em
he loves to involve your tits with the sex. cuming on them, sucking them, playing with them, etc
sucking on them? what kinda freaky shit is this?
he will go CRAZY if you let him suck your tits
toby laid on top of you while pressing small kisses and hickeys on your neck. he wanted to go a little further so the boy let his hands go up your tank top. his brown eyes lock with yours, asking for permission to take off the small piece of clothing
you nodded, cold air immediately hitting your hard nipples. all toby could do was look in awe. his mouth immediately crashed onto your soft boob. kissing and licking around your nipples, little whimpers and whines leaving your mouth
“uh c-C-can i suck them..?”
you nodded and he moved on your sensitive nipples. licking and taking your breast into his mouth the best he could. Toby loved to see you all whiney and overstimulated under him. you could feel him getting harder
he’s pretty average when it comes to size but boy, he knows what he’s doing
toby had an insane porn addiction before you both met and omg, he watched everything
because of that, he will try anything and know how to do it
wanna peg him? he’s already bought the stuff. wanna have buttsex? he’s got lube. want him to eat ur ass? so down and ready.
honestly though, toby loves to just fuck like normal. doggy and cowgirl are his favorites.
“you sure your ready?” toby said teasingly.
“god, Tob’s, just fuck me already”
after what felt like forever, toby slowly slipped his dick into your dripping wet cunt. he groaned as your eyes fluttered closed. his cold, dirty hands began to feel around your thighs as he held you up.
“okay love, im gonna move” you rolled your eyes. his pace started out slow but hard. after a while of fucking once a week, toby knew exactly were all your g spots were. he would tease you a bit by almost hitting it and then hitting it.
you moaned and begged for toby to sped up but he kept his pace. it was slow and painful but god it felt so good. he started to speed up slowly. you moaned and groaned, only making him go faster and faster
he love love lovessss to go at it for hours but only if you’re up to it
and ONLY if you want too
“consent is sexy baby” -toby 2024
he wants to see you begging on your knees for more
on average, you guys are having 3-8 rounds everytime
cum stained sheets just turn him on more
heavy breathing fills the room, toby laying on top of you. his hands rubbed your stomach while his throbbing member was still inside you. as you felt it pulsing, it only turned you on more and more. 
“…hah…b-bAby, do you wanna go again?” the boy said as he pulled out. his hand now rested on your face as him thumb trailed across your cheek.
“fuck yeah.” you sighed out with a smile. toby smiled, quickly grabbing your waist and thrusting back in. a sharp moan escapes your lips while toby grunts
hardcore aftercare everytime
“are you okay? did i hurt you? was it good? are you in pain? do you need anything? do you want anything? do you wanna your put clothes back on? do you want my clothes back on?”
so. many. questions.
he just loves you and doesn’t ever wanna hurt you
he WILL cook you a full course meal. i mean, it won’t taste good but hey its the thought that counts
you moan loudly, coming down from your high. you immediately collapse on top of him while sliding him out of you. chest to chest, your breathing intertwine’s and your body becomes one with his.
“oh baby i love you but i’m done” you say sleepily. your hands run through his dirty, brown hair.
“that-tha-thats okay!! are you alright?” toby says concerned.
“yeah, yeah. i’m just uh tired” you reassured him, still playing with his hair a bit.
he started to rub your back in small circles, kissing your forehead ever so gently. your hands let go of his hair, wrapping your arms around toby’s neck, pulling yourself into him even closer. he breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled.
“oh i love you my darling, a-AAnd not just for sex. your so much more than that, *we’re* so much more than that. of course i-i-i love your body and the way you moan and and and everything else. but i love all of you.” toby said lovingly
#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#ticci toby#jeff the killer#nina the killer#ticci toby x reader#crp headcanon#max writes
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hello!! i saw you were taking requests and i couldn’t find any set rule list, so please ignore this if it’s not something you’re comfortable with ���️ but what maybe some smut where they’ve been in jackson for a bit and the girls there don’t get the hint that he’s taken and reader gets jealous and is the dominant one? also totally marks him so they know. (sorry i don’t usually request smut so im not really sure if i should add more or not but i really like your work so i wanted to try) anyway, thank you if you get to this and again, truly no issue if you don’t. i hope you have a fantastic day/evening 🥰❤️
Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, I had the big writers block for the last few days! I hope this is what you’re looking for!
You don’t get irritated easily. It’s one of the things Joel likes about you, actually. You tend to be the level headed one, the one people go to in a crisis because you’re damn near impossible to piss off. Damn near, but not quite. And lately, people have been pushing your damn buttons. Everyone has a weakness, and yours is Joel.
You know he’s handsome. Hell, you’re not the only one who knows it. If he wasn’t so caught up in… well, being Joel, he’d probably be able to have any of the women in Jackson that he wanted. Somehow, he wanted you. Long before you even arrived there, too. Your relationship is concrete. Infallible. Only, there are a few women who don’t seem to have gotten the hint.��
They flirt with him, right in front of you sometimes. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care, and whenever you bring it up? He’s dismissive of it.
“I don’t care who’s lookin’ at me, darlin’, I’ve only got eyes for you.”
Sweet words, yes. And it’s not that you don’t trust him. You do. With your life, with your heart and your soul.
It still gets to you. Especially when he gets so pissy whenever anyone so much as looks at you. Oh, sure, you like it, and you love the possessive way he fucks you whenever it happens… but it’s given you an idea. Everyone knows now not to flirt with you or touch you, because you’re always, without fail, covered in love bites or have Joel with you, his hand on the small of your back in a not so subtle possessive way.
It’s your turn. Time to flip the cards, as it were.
——
Sunlight streams in through the window; it’s snowed overnight again, of course, but it looks to be a beautiful day.
You’re awake first, for once; you’ve noticed that he sleeps better beside you. Oh, he still has his nightmares, and you’re certain he always will, but you’ve noticed a definite improvement.
Your idea still bounces around your mind, a way to keep those pesky women away from him for good. Maybe if they know, without any reason to doubt, that he’s yours… they’ll back off. If he was anyone else, you might be nervous. But he’s not anyone else, he’s Joel. Your Joel.
The thought gives you courage as you curl your body into his, press slow kisses up his chest. That’s new, too. Since settling in Jackson, you’re both far more at ease with sleeping in very little clothing, or, in this instance, naked.
Your fingertips trail along his arms as you kiss over his heart, keep kissing up to his throat, along his jaw.
“Hmm? Mornin’, darlin…” His voice is always so much more heavily accented first thing in the morning, sleepy and content. You like that, the change from being instantly alert to allowing himself a moment.
“Hi there.” You keep on kissing, along his jaw to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“Didn’t get enough last night, huh?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, not at all. For all he comments about being fifty six and not able to keep up with such a pretty young thing, he does a damn good job. Honestly, his stamina is fucking impressive. That, and you can feel him, hard against your stomach. Time to put your idea into practice.
“Never.” You agree, before you roll, catching him off guard enough that you can straddle him, keeping him flat on his back on the soft bed.
He raises an eyebrow, amused at your sudden movement. He’s used to you being the submissive one, begging him to be rougher, harder, being pinned beneath him or on all fours, occasionally against a wall or on the couch if you can’t make it to the bed. It happens. Even when you ride him, he has the control, and you both know it.
He’s not used to this, to you straddling him with a sense of purpose, a glint in your eyes as you lean down and kiss him again, a searing kiss to his mouth that’s all passion, all desperation, like he’s the purest drug left in the world and you’re addicted.
Without breaking the kiss, you grind down against him, letting his hands drift to your waist, guiding you. Slowly, you brush your bare folds along the length of him, enjoying the way he watches you, pupils blown wide.
You can’t let yourself be distracted, no matter how much you want to be.
“What’s gotten into you, huh?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with arousal as you kiss the corner of his mouth again, circling your hips, teasing the tip of his cock with your wetness.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You reply, kissing his throat, finding a nice spot to leave your mark. Before he can answer you again, your kiss turns to a bite, sucking a deep purple mark into his throat as his hands shift lower, settling on your ass.
You can feel his cock throbbing against you; it’s almost embarrassing how much you want him, how easy it would be to simply cave, beg him to roll you over and pin you to the bed. But this isn’t about you, not right now. This is about Joel, and about making sure those damn annoying women in town know that he’s yours. He’s yours.
“Gonna tease me all morning, baby?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, even if the haze of sleep has been replaced with lust.
“Maybe.” You concede, leaving another mark on his collarbone. “I can see why you do this to me, now…”
It certainly looks nice, the contrast of the purple marks against his olive skin.
“Usually I fuck you, too.” Joel comments, and you laugh.
“Is that your way of begging?” You ask, admiring the string of marks on his throat. Not bad, honestly. Not bad at all.
“Sweetheart, if I was begging you, you’d know it.” He tries to sound stubborn, but you choose that moment to tease him again, brushing yourself against the tip of him once more. There’s a slight catch to his voice as he says it.
“Are you sure?”
He rolls his eyes. “Really, what’s gotten into you?”
You smirk, lean down and press a kiss to his lips.
“Maybe I just wanted to prove a point.” Your own resolve is failing slightly, just enough to cut your teasing short; maybe if you had slightly more control, you’d tease him for longer. But you know him, know his patience is limited, even for you.
“And what might that be?” His hands are still on your waist; you move your own hands to his arms, keeping his movement limited; he’s not taking control, not this time.
You don’t answer him for a moment, shift yourself, guide yourself to him, sink down onto him slowly.
“That you’re mine,” you say finally, as every inch of him fills you; it takes a fair bit of effort to sound so in control, considering. He’s not exactly small, not so big he hurts you either, just right, perfectly filling you, the tip of him stroking against your sweet spot.
“That so?” If Joel had his arms free, he’d be torn between crossing them behind his head, lazing back and just letting you have control, or seizing your waist and flipping you over, taking back control. He’s used to being the dominant one, but this? He could get used to this. There’s something appealing about the way you’re acting.
“Yes.” You don’t dignify him with a drawn out answer; there are much better ways to punctuate what you’re saying, like circling your hips slowly, letting him feel you tighten around him. There’s an advantage to this position; you can use his arms to brace yourself as you start to ride him, slow at first.
You can’t help the surge of confidence that comes with having him in this position. You know what sort of man he is, know exactly what he’s capable of. The fact that he’s willingly submitting to you, even if it’s just for curiosity sake… it definitely makes you feel good about yourself, encourages you to keep going.
“C’mon, sweetheart, this all you got?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes; he knows you’re holding back on him, knows there’s strength in you that you keep hidden away. He’s seen glimmers of it, like when you marked him, but honestly, he wants to see how far you’ll go before you break.
“Shut up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean down to kiss him. He meets you halfway; props himself up so you can change positions, so you’re more sitting in his lap than anything. You have to admit, you like the intimacy of it, the way his chest is pressed against yours. His arms encircle you, but he doesn’t try to take control of the situation, content with letting you ride him, setting the pace, trailing kisses along his chest.
Even like this, you still have the control, are still the one calling the shots. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself, riding him faster, finally allowing little sounds of pleasure to fall from your lips when he moans.
“I dunno where this came from, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, “but I kinda like it.”
You laugh, curl your hands into his hair, your laughter fading into moans and mewls as he starts to buck his hips up to meet you as you ride him, getting deeper, bringing you into a perfect rhythm.
You need something to do with your mouth to quiet you; you suck another mark into his throat to occupy yourself, satisfied when he groans.
“Fuck, darlin’, you’re getting good at that…” Joel’s hands caress your waist, up your back, as though he’s trying to memorise every inch of your skin. He could spend all day touching you, and it wouldn’t be enough.
“Learned from the best,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you pick up your pace. He meets you each time, rocking his hips up to match your pace, for once keeping his filthy mouth to himself in place of a string of moans and growls.
“You’re mine.” You remind him as you kiss him once more, as close to your release as he is to his own.
“And you’re mine,” he confirms, hands settling on your waist, holding you in place as he bucks up into you, drawing your climax out of you, satisfied by the loud gasps and moans that fall from your lips. He doesn’t get long to be smug, though; your tightening around him is enough to bring him to his own release; you bear down on him, keeping him inside you, taking every drop that he has to give you.
He shakes his head, half amused, as soon as he can catch his breath.
“If anything comes of that… that’s on you.” He warns you. Not that he’d ever abandon you. Never.
“Oops.” You wriggle on him, getting him deeper, proving your point.
He drops a light kiss to your lips.
“You should show this side more often,” Joel says, and then smirks, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
You scoff, admire the string of bites and marks along his chest, collarbones, and throat.
“Somehow, I think they’ll get the message.”
#my writing#answered#Joel Miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#the last of us#pedro pascal
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I just read Run again and I really don’t have the words to describe how much I love that fic. That whole series is so great but that work in particular actually makes me tear up a bit when I read it, like how scared the reader is of never seeing Joel again and Joel being so genuinely distraught at his girl being gone, like the way he goes from being furious at Tess to just pleading with her to tell her where she went. So heartbreaking and then their reunion is so lovely, literally sighed in relief despite the fucked up circumstances.
And oh god I know it would be bad for literally everyone involved but I can’t help but imagine the reader getting pregnant. Like having a baby would be bad obviously but the actual pregnancy would be interesting like Joel is already so fiercely protective of her like it would just be more so when she’s in an even more vulnerable state. And god just the possessiveness that comes with it like now everyone who sees her can see what he’s done to her and that she’s his.
You’ve mentioned before you’ve had ideas for oneshots about early in the reader’s captivity as well as Joel’s pov when he first sees her and I love both those ideas, I’m really so curious as to how that relationship developed.
hello non i’m sorry for the delayed response!
this kind of made my whole day???
i’m really proud of this fic, especially seeing as i truly pushed myself out of my comfort zone. with this whole dark joel universe in general had been a challenge for me, but this fic in particular was—i was in the trenches for months let’s put it that way haha
i don’t think i’d take the pregnancy route with reader, let’s just say the girl should thank her lucky stars it didn’t ehm—stick. however i will say it’s interesting to think about how joel would change if she did happen to get pregnant. i can absolutely see him becoming even more possessive and protective of her and idk i’m just thinking it would mean the end of his raider era?
as far as writing for them during her early days in captivity, i am all for it! i have a couple of ideas, one is already a draft. i’ve also mentioned joel��s pov from the first time he sees reader when he’s scoping out her group’s camp (wah i appreciate you remembering this!) i could definitely make a little drabble of that. exploring how our girl got from point A to point B with joel would be so so so interesting for me and believe me when i say it’s on the table 🫡
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one last Acolyte commentary drop, just for me because i'm sure no one else cares:
- One last Acolyte night, maybe for the season, maybe forever. Will we find out? I doubt it
- I truly don't know what to expect from this. Keeping my hopes low. Haven't been too excited about it all day, so probably won't be let down if I think it's missing things.
- We don't get an episode title?
- They can't fuck with Vernestra. I'm gonna disown this whole thing if that happens
- (Qimir/Osha stuff in the previously on section) [exhausted sigh] Forgot I have to deal with this shit again
- I was about to get all excited and say, oh god the next time I get to do this it's gonna be Andor, but that'ssss not true. It's gonna be a show that we know fucking nothing about
- Dry your hair, freak
- (Mae freaks out in the helmet and Qimir gets possessed? by someone???) What the fuck?.....What the ffffffuck is happening?....Is sh…she possess him?? I'm so fucking confused already….What the hell? [incredulous chuckling]
- [whispers] What is fucking happening? What? What?
- “The future isn’t fixed” Okay Yoda ((heh, foreshadowing))
- (Sol’s just sitting on the floor) Don’t you have a chair?
- “See you in hell, Jedi” [cackles] What a line. Welcome back, Han
- [lots of delighted giggling as the chase through the ring starts] Dude!!!....It’s not the Eye but it’s pretty sick…..Targeting computer!!
- [perfect Maverick impression] hit the breaks, he’ll flight right by…….okay maybe not right now
- (Bazil yelling) Too bad Yord’s not here to…tell us what the fuck that was
- Awwww she's going to be nice even to evil Pip. Why did you have to make him evil if you're going to be nice to him?
- [perfect Obi-Wan impression] Another happy landing…….And I don't mean that ironically. How are they so–
- (Mog appears) His face is…..difficult. I have to go yell at a cat
- Who’s this guy? Oh that's that guy
- “I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion. A delusional cult that claims to control the uncontrollable” Well you had me in the first half
- Alright, Mr. Shady Guy Senator. That's never gone wrong before
- (Osha and Qimir shit) [another exhausted sigh] I'm just not interested in this…..Hey you put your dumbass cape on backwards again
- Already a third of the way through and nothing has—WHO THE FUCK IS THAT!!??!?! OH my GOD…Holy shit. So that was..Plagueis. Right..? Oh, my g—as I’m saying nothing has happened [laughs] Alright Leslye, you got me
- (Vernestra trying to talk to someone but not Sol like I thought) What the–what? What? Who is she trying to talk to? [whispers] What the fuck….?
- Bro, I'm…….so scared
- [theorizing mumbles] So Qimir is being puppeted by Plagueis….who learned…how to do that from….Koril..possibly? And Aniseya?......doubtful but again I’m…so fucking confused....
- “Or we could climb” I was going to say, you can fucking climb up the side obviously we've seen
- (Qimir straight up disappears) The fuck? Is he even real? Everybody's thirsting over this guy and he's just like a dead puppet probably. That’d be really funny to me. He's like actually a silly little guy called Qimir but…gets puppeted…by this ugly motherfucker
- (Mae climbs out of the pit) And we've come full circle!
- (Qimir talks to Sol through his helmet) I’ve got PTSD from that voice now
- Don’t have your gauntlets on this time, you can only use your head. You have to risk getting your neck chopped off
- Ooooh! Oh, bitchin’.....Wire work hello. That was cool
- A lightsaber battle in broad daylight where they can't use a weird—very nice. Woah! Aw, why didn’t he chop his leg off?
- (Sol does that move to deflect the lightsabers) Ohohoho okay!!! Okay!!! Let's gooooo!!!!
- [creaky door groaning]
- Fuck fuck fuck…..Noooooo, evil Pip!!!
- (sister fight) This is some impressive shit
- So glad they’re not in the fucking Volume
- Well, look who's here. So Vernestra was in hyperspace again and we didn't get to see it AGAIN??
- Wait, is it Vernestra? Or is it someone worse? Zombie Yord. I hope it's Zombie Yord–no, he would come in a Vector. Zombie vector
- Short his own lightsaber on his own helmet!!!
- Gotcha, bitch
- Stab him in the faaaace!! For Yord!! For Jecki!!! Do it. I know I was mad at you for killing somebody last time, but you should really do it this time…..(he doesn't) of course
- No, Mae…Why? Wait ooh let her kill him. Ooh yeah, there we go
- “I want him to face…the Republic” That's not gonna happen
- (Osha starts choking Sol) Jesus. Okay….Dude. Okay [nervous chuckling] Hot damn….yeah this is way more painful than if she’d used the lightsaber
- (kyber crystal starts bleeding in the saber) Oh!!! Bleeding in real time and she's not even holding it in her hand!!!! Hot shit, oh my god. That’s fucking awesome
- Wow. Spend one day with a naked guy and this is what happens
- [there’s simply no way to describe the noises I made when the lightsaber turned red] YOOOOOHOHOHO. That’s. FUcking. Sick. Oh my GOD. The music!!!!
- All these Jedi gonna die too? Fucking shit
- What is that guy? Hellooo what species are you?
- Oh the hood up [scared groaning]
- I'm so nervous. We’ve got so many red shirts….and Mog
- Use the tracker? What?
- Use that light whip to fuckin’ take his head off. I'm ready. Let's go
- So cute they're back together, I hope nothing happens!!
- Oh that tracker. He has a name!!!!!
- Alright now what? Now we're just at a tree
- You two kill that guy and then go run off together. It doesn’t–nothing else matters, just get rid of this motherfucker [angry grunting] fuckin’ hell
- BAD IDEA!!!! Ew
- I don't like this….better be getting season two or I swear to fuck
- Tell me Pip was recording everything
- “They say I killed someone?” Killed a few someones……..well just two I guess
- Well we had one funeral at least……..This hurts man….
- “A pupil of mine, before he turned to evil” Ah eh oh! [Leo pointing meme] That was a very Obi-Wan line. God dammit. Don't Obi-Wan Vernestra!!! God that pisses me off [sad chuckle]
- Season two tease or we riot. Like you can't just say hello Plagueis is here and then—(shippy stuff happens) Ew, stop that! Stab him!!!!
- Gonna have to sit through years of this shit now. Ew.
- Here's Yoda! Yep [laughs] Cute. So what is she going to tell him? Everything and he's going to cover it up even more. Yeah. Wow
- Alright. That was good and fun, but I'm upset and have questions still so….Pretty much what I expected
- That was a lot of fun though, and that's mostly what I care about for this. Lots of fun. Looked cool. Had me yellin’. I'll take it
#didn't realize i said ew so much in those last few minutes#the acolyte spoilers#the acolyte#my posts
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OMG HELLO
I almost forgot to read this one!!! But no worries, I am here, ready to read and comment. Hehehehe
I can see how “Cruel” was the inspiration for this, the video is so “chef’s kiss”
Wow, they do hate each other, and I love it already
I am not ashamed to say i had to google hellion, not a word i have heard before, lol
She is indeed special, you got a thing for eyes, I might say
I love it how he is a sex demon and he is attracted to her so much, even knowing that she is one, too. I mean he might see sex as food, but I dont think succubus/incubus can feed from each other. In any case his thoughts betray him.
“You’ve never been worth my notice, Andromeda,” he says.
THAT WAS REALLY CRUEL
I love it that they have history together
Sure, battles get you hard, suuuuuure
A forked tongue, you say?
I love the little glimpse at all the rules the demons have.
Ooooooooh, her chambers
I am gonna guess that neither of them have done this before, she confirmed it, but then he did not.
So they can’t feed from each other, then this leaves sex only for fun
She is so sexy I am flustered
He loves her, dark desires of not, he can’t resist her and he wants more
He is just curious because it is her
oooooooh, chains
And he is jealous, he wants to be special
Breathlessly, Changkyun asks, “What do you taste like?”
Her smile is as wicked as she is. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He does. More than anything, he does.
I AM SCREAMING
The description of his cock is… maaaan…… i can't take it
He is so cocky I can’t, she is putting in on his place and that pleases me
Andromeda is demon heroin. With one lick, he knows he will never be able to stop searching for the next one, and he realizes in one fell swoop that she has done to him exactly what he has planned to do to her.
OH HOW THE TURNTABLES
Oh, then it’s like lions not eating other lions….
I can tell already this encounter will kill me
I love that duality on her
And they’re kISSIng. Why is that soooo erotic???
I also liked that “role reversal” at the beginning, the succubus on top and the incubus on the bottom. Lol
Is he gonna fuck her tits????
Yesssssssssssssssss
Changkyun pinches her chin between his fingers and ensures her eyes meet his before his voice drops perilously low. “I don’t give them everything. You? You’re going to get it all, absolutely every last bit I can bury in you.”
Dsmvadmf’pdmfbp
Changkyun is just like any other demon—selfish, self-absorbed, and possessive—but he’s never actually owned anything. Even his room is a mere waystation between his last feeding and his next round of chaos. But now the only other creature he’s thought about in ages has given herself to him. He doesn’t know what to do with that.
This obliterated me
My god, there’s so many feelings in my porn this morning. I loooove that “demons who fall in love” trope, but I have never seen it happen between 2 of them
NO KIDDING SHARING THE HUMAN WAS THE THOUGHT THAT FIRST CAME TO MIND
So gooood, oh my, it was so good!!!! And the ending, yessss, yess!!!
Ok, choosing a favourite…..
Vixen - I really liked it, but I was truly afraid for Hyungwon’s wellbeing! Definitely the scariest of them all. The ambiance was simply perfection. Gothic feeling in a modern setting? Ticks box.
The voodoo that you do: I LOVE witches, the thought of magic being inherent in humans is something I relish and this was indeed just a glimpse of a much broader and rich Au with so many possibilities to explore. Also Gray is the woman of my dreams and I love her.
The heat of the night: I love my porn with a hefty side of feels and this delivers, it is shameless and also tender, the perfect balance that satisfies my soul.
Bad dog: I guess you can tell this was my favorite, cause werewolves, then we have stubborn people, chains, mentions of other monsta x members AND desperate fucking, primal needs, animalistic sex plus lots of feels, everything the Dr. ordered
In any case I will be very happy to read whatever comes next, but in the meantime I think I will read bad dog again….
I. SUCK. SO. BAD.
I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS FOR MONTHS AND MONTHS. Wow. :(
Girl, yes, I have a thing for eyes! That's where all secrets are held. My favorite thing in the world is unlocking those secrets and exposing them. :D
Your stream of consciousness reactions are just always my favorite, friendo. <3 You processing the storylines as it comes--what you get right and what you don't see coming. It's fun.
Omg, I legit forgot how fucking smutty I made this story. What the hell was I on? *thinking emoji*
Yeah, I don't know if I ever remember demon x demon in any of the fandoms I've ever read, but it was fun as shit to write. I love exploring the idea of traditional villains experiencing feelings for the first time. Kind of a ho for that shit, tbh (if it isn't obvious). Kyun also felt like the right choice for the role--he's such a real-life demon. How I love world-building around these boys, too. *sigh*
Aw, your recap of all the fics at the end here. So worried for our Wonnie! But, come on, you know I would NEVER.
And, yeah, I still think I might be in love with Gray (and also Denarii). My girls living my dreams <3
You're right, I was SO surprised about you liking my werewolf fic the best (read: NOT).
Okay, so I was an asshole who didn't answer this in a timely manner, but I will say it was fun to relive these fics, especially now when I'm so far gone in a new AU. But I really went off the deep end in October. It's probably really embarrassing to admit that I already have four fics outlined for this years October vibes. >.> Something to look forward to, I guess.
Love you, girlie! You the best for always supporting me so much! A million finger hearts for you!!!
#gee thanks#heat of the night#new bestie!#october vibes#i'm so very late in replying#again#i said i would answer this soon#i failed#love me anyway!#because i love you
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hello! may i request a nsfw alphabet for mycroft holmes from moriarty the patriot? if you’re not comfortable, may you do a sfw one instead? thank you! 💕💕
NSFW ALPHABET - MYCROFT HOLMES HEADCANONS
Warnings : this is obviously NSFW, but I don’t think there’s much else to warn of except the lack of proofreading, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : smutty smut!
Word count : 3.3K words (oops…)
Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! I can’t even begin to tell you how much fun I had writing these. Headcanons are very relaxing for me to write. Plus, I have such a soft spot for this man🫠 Hope you enjoy this!💗
Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.
Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!
Masterlist
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Mycroft is a very methodical man, and he tends to stick to routines for the most part. That also translates into the bedroom; after sex he’s gotten into the rhythm of cleaning up after his lover, preferably changing the sheets as well. If they’re too exhausted to get up and shower/bathe, that’s fine by him! He’ll just take care of them with a damp towel and let them curl up against his chest (hint: it’s very warm!)
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
As probably hinted by the previous part, his favorite body part on himself is probably his chest. In a rather innocent way, he loves the way they rest their head against him to listen to his heartbeat every night, and in a not-so-innocent way, nothing beats the sight of them burying their head into him, tears wetting his chest as the pleasure overwhelms them.
On his partner, he can never resist their eyes. Not when they’re twinkling so sweetly up at him, not when they’re begging to be comforted, and definitely not when they’re blown with lust and a deep desire only he can fulfill. It always leaves his chest burning with want to see them look at him like that.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)
Mycroft’s not exactly fond of messes, so cumming inside his lover tends to be his go-to. Not to mention the fact that he might have a bit of a possessive streak when it comes to the bedroom, and seeing his release oozing out their hole has him more than ready for another round in seconds.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He’d never admit to it out loud, but he’s had some rather lewd fantasies concerning his occupation—something about fucking his darling as they roleplay as enemy agents with incredible sexual tension (him not really roleplaying at all, honestly) gets him really going.
Though he’d never risk bringing them to his office, he’s had his fair share of fantasies of bending them over his desk and taking them from behind as they try to muffle their moans into his hand. He’d have to settle for fucking them just as good in his office at home.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Now, being one of the older men in Yuumori, he’s definitely had his fair share of experience. Men weren’t saints back then, as much as some history tries to convince us otherwise.
In his early 20s, he probably fell in love with someone and took things seriously with them for quite a while, but soon his job forced him to put an end to it before it ended in bloodshed. He couldn’t risk anything happening to someone he truly cared for in that way—so ever since that relationship ended, he resorted to casual one night stands. Just a good romp every now and then to relieve himself of his stress did the trick—though of course, he always ensures that both parties understand that it doesn’t mean more.
And he… well, he most certainly knows what he’s doing. He puts his years of delivering pleasure to faceless names into good use, and knows his lover’s body like the back of his hand.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
While he does usually love taking his lover from behind and the way his hands always gravitate to their ass and waist to pull them in closer, I think he’d prefer to have them in a position where he can clearly see their face. For someone who’s spent the majority of his life with no strings attached, he wants the fact that he’s absolutely serious about this to set in. This isn’t a casual fuck; he takes his time to make love to them and ravish them thoroughly, and the emotional bond formed through eye contact while doing so is something he’d rather not compromise on.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Mycroft is a serious man in all aspects of life, so he’d be quite serious during sex. Especially since he considers this relationship his last, he’s rather intense and prefers to focus on giving them his all in bed. Occasionally though, when they’re letting him know just how incredible he’s making them feel, he’d let a small smirk make its way onto his face and tease them lightly.
He doesn’t mind if his lover has a sense of humor though—it’s rather sweet to him, and shows him just how comfortable they are with him.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
I kind of see him as someone who doesn’t particularly care but also prefers to keep himself well-trimmed. If he’s busy with work (as he most often is), then he probably won’t bother wasting time on that. Though as soon as he gets the chance to, he trims because he likes things to be orderly.
The carpet mostly matches the drapes—mostly, because the curls get progressively darker further down, and they already are a shade or two darker than his (slowly greying, as much as he hates to admit it) hair.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
While he wouldn’t go around making declarations of love every five minutes, I think he’s more of an acts of service guy. He takes his time to engrave it into their body that he’s so devoted to them, by bringing them unimaginable pleasure, and so dutifully too. It almost feels like he’s worshipping them at times without ever explicitly stating it. The smouldering heat in his eyes and the snap of his hips against theirs is more than enough proof.
He does, however, have a really soft spot for kissing. The look he gives them when their swollen red lips part from each other should be illegal—it’s like the entire world pales next to them and he could see no one but them.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Mycroft’s a very busy man, and he tends to lose track of how much time has actually gone by during his missions. By the time he gets to finally have time to himself and fill his head with thoughts of his darling (thoughts that have his pants constricting almost painfully as he remembers every position he’d last taken them in), two weeks might’ve passed.
His sex drive isn’t the highest, since he expends so much energy on the job, he’s sometimes too drained for jacking himself off. It’s more likely that he masturbates whenever he’s stressed. And why would he resort to his fist like some teenage boy, when he could be embracing his lover in his arms? If both of them are willing and wanting, he’d love to spend the night in bed with them instead.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
As mentioned before, he has a bit of a roleplay kink with his job. And perhaps (regardless of their gender), he’s got a bit of an undiscovered breeding kink that is the real reason behind him favoring cumming inside them.
He’s also a rather large man, and practically the entire population is much smaller than he is. If his lover counts among them, then he’d be pounding them into the mattress the moment he realizes just how small they are underneath his massive body. Watching the way his hands splay all over their stomach and the way his cock bulges their tummy just the tiniest bit has him hypnotized.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
The bedroom and his office. The bedroom provides a certain sanctity and intimacy that nothing else provides, and his office feeds into his fantasies.
That’s not to say he hasn’t tried doing it in… well, every corner of the house. The kitchen, the bathroom, the sitting room—you name it, he’s probably tried it in an uncharacteristic frenzy. However, he’d prefer not to repeat the experience in the sitting room; the furniture was far from comfortable, and he figured neither of them liked the idea of having important guests over where debauchery had just happened.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Nothing too special gets him going. He usually has sex with his lover just because he’s missed them, he’s feeling rather afffectionate, or because he feels like the moment is right. That doesn’t mean that certain things don’t ignite a certain brand of passion underneath his skin; no sir.
Whenever they’re the ones to approach him with a demanding gaze, clearly aiming to take the lead, he grows hard within mere seconds, it’s almost ridiculous. Something about that is ridiculously attractive to him.
He also has a weird thing that could also count as a kink… he likes seeing signs of aging on them. Smile lines on their face, crows’ feet with every smile, a few greying hairs here and there, calloused hands from work; if he ever catches sight of any of these signs, his sex drives goes through the roof. There’s just something so intimate about growing alongside the person you love, and he finds it charming that they’re showing signs of being so well-loved over the years.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Someone handing him the reins and asking him to fully dominate them would not mesh well with him. This especially if it includes outside of the bedroom; he dislikes the idea of having so much power over someone. Considering the fact that he has so many responsibilities and is so used to sitting atop most of the food chains, he’s not fond of that also happening in his personal life. He’d very much rather have them both as equals. He’s not opposed to preferences during sex; just doesn’t like being a dom outside of it.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Definitely giving. Receiving is nice and all, but he enjoys the intimacy and trust involved in having someone as powerful as himself on his knees for someone, slowly kissing up their thighs before making his way to where they anticipate him the most. He adores the the little whimpers they make, the blissful expression on their face, the whisper of his name on their lips as their hands tug at his hair, and the trembling of their thighs in his hold. It’s entrancing.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends, but he mostly prefers a mix of the two. Roughness is mostly reserved for when lust is clouding his thoughts and all coherency leaves him, and he can’t help the bruising pace he sets then, as long as they have no protests concerning that. However, intimacy is crucial to him, and he feels that being rough only does a slopping job of proving how enamored he is by them. He could slowly roll his hips against theirs, prolonging both their pleasure as much as possible. His favorite is definitely a fast but sensual pace, where they could both chase their highs while also falling deeper and deeper in love with each other. Gentle hands roam and caress as slapping skin and wet sounds resound through the room.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Only when fully motivated, and he feels a desperation creeping up on him does Mycroft resort to quickies. He doesn’t get that much time off in the first place, so he prefers to envelope himself in them entirely, worshipping every inch of their body with his—and he can’t do that properly if all he does is a quick fuck-and-go. It doesn’t sit right with him to do that with someone who holds his heart in their hands and whose love he cradles in his; especially not when they get so little time to indulge in each other.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Highly unlikely for Mycroft to take any risks. Aside from the occasional fantasy he has, he wouldn’t risk having anyone walk in on them. The sanctity of love-making isn’t something he wants other people to trespass on, for many reasons. He’s also a very respectable man, and dislikes the idea of having sex in a place that counts as inappropriate to him.
As for experimenting, as long as it isn’t a hard no for him, he’s up for trying everything his lover wants. If it’s something they consider a need in their sex lives, Mycroft is more than happy to integrate it into the bedroom. He’s very much a giver, and that’s one of the ways he can express his care and how well he knows his lover. He might even develop new interests now!
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)
Honestly it varies from time to time. Mycroft’s in his mid 30s, and loathe as he to admit it, he hasn’t got the stamina to last him all throughout his job AND all night in the bedroom as well.
If he’s stressed out and his partner invites him to take it out in the form of a quick fuck of frustration, he wouldn’t last very long, but he’d make it through 3 rounds at a minimum, his energy levels through the roof. If he’s exhausted from work, he wouldn’t have it in him to have sex more than one slow, almost-lazy round, though he’s keen on making sure they’re quite well sated, and never forgets his methodical aftercare.
If he’s been away on a mission for quite a long while and has missed his lover so much that he seems desperate to hold them, he’d have enough stamina to last a few rounds, seeing them and getting to touch them leaving his mind in a frenzy. However, if it’s none of the 3 aforementioned scenarios, then his lover is in for a very fastidious love-making session. He usually lasts for 2 or 3 rounds at the most, prolonging their pleasure as best as he could so that they’d both last longer than they normally would. He’s certainly up for pleasing them with his mouth, and he’d have no complaints if they decided to reciprocate the favor—though he always does prefer worshipping them without asking for it in return; it feels more genuine that way.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
While he doesn’t own any, seeing as he’d much rather spend the night in his beloved’s arms than with anything artificial as compensation, he’s not opposed to them owning any. As a matter of fact, he probably encourages it, with the way he’s often away on the job. He’d hate it if they felt they had to curb their needs simply because he was gone. He finds it flattering that they miss him as much as he does them.
During sex, however, he’d prefer it if nothing was involved aside from their own bodies. It’s not as much being a prude or too prideful, as it is just him valuing the act of bringing one to the throes of pleasure with nothing more than their ability to read each other’s bodies and respond in kind.
In all cases, toys were far from being advanced or variable in the 19th century, so the options were few anyways.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Not very much. Mycroft likes to prolong sex more often than not, yes, but he’d rather do that by setting a steady pace, instead of being a tease. He doesn’t really believe in delayed gratification, and he isn’t that playful so as to be a menace about it either. However, he’s not above the occasional smirk and taunting remark, though it rarely happens. They’ll have to catch him in a particularly lovestruck and relaxed mood for that to hapen.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Mycroft’s not very loud, and it’s probably due to how much he’s trained himself to remain quiet under dire circumstances. Old habits die hard, after all, so he’ll mostly keep his volume down. Any sounds he makes will be in his lover’s ear, head bent over in pleasure and eyebrows furrowed.
He’s not much of a moaner, but he tends to groan out loud the moment he completely sheathes himself inside their warmth, pulsating around him. He grunts a little with every thrust of his, and if they clench around him he lets out a shuddering breath.
He prefers to be on the receiving end of dirty talk, and it usually encourages him to make an exceptionally lewd comment of his own. If he’s feeling particularly sappy (for example, after an extremely dangerous mission, or after spending weeks apart), he might find those three little words falling from his lips in a gasp as he cums and spills into them. It’s oddly endearing.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Being an older brother meant that he had to spend his entire life sharing everything, and so he grew up to be secretly rather annoyed by the concept of having to share his clothes. Despite that, the first time his lover nicked something from his closet and he came back to find them seated on the bed with his huge shirt draped over their frame, he could only swallow thickly, the familiar tingle of lust spreading from his gut up to his heart. It took him mere seconds to cross the threshold of the room and completely immerse himself in them, fucking them within an inch of passing out—and he genuinely had no idea where that intense want came from. Needless to say, stealing more of his clothes became a rather pleasant incentive for mindblowing sex.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Seven and a half inches when hard, and so girthy that it’s a little difficult for them to wrap their hand around him during foreplay. He has a bit of an upward curve, and the head tends to flush an angry red when he’s very heavily aroused. Definitely has heavy balls as well, and they hang a bit. It’s actually rather intimidating to see him naked for the first time.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
As I’ve said before, it depends, but his sex drive is generally not that high. Unless he’s really turned on by something about them he particularly fancies, or he’s been away from his beloved for far too long, he doesn’t think of sex that often. With such a busy lifestyle and being acutely aware of the fact that he’s growing older, he doesn’t get the time for it that often either.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He’s neither an insomniac, nor does he slump over immediately into a deep sleep. Mycroft sticks to his aftercare routine religiously, and only after checking in with his darling and ensuring that everything’s to their liking does he allow himself to rest. Post-coital bliss hits him then, and he falls against the pillow with a tender smile on his face as he listens to them chatter a bit.
If they fall asleep pretty quickly though, he’ll tug them into his chest for a good night’s sleep. He sleeps best when they’re both well-sated, and he enjoys the feeling of their arms around him and their ears pressed to his slowing heartbeat. They usually end up waking up in the morning in the same position they’d slept in the night before.
Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights
#imagine#oneshot#fluff#anime#domestic#smut#moriarty the patriot#yuukoku no moriarty#mtp#ynm#yuumori#mycroft#mycroft holmes#mycroft x reader#mycroft smut#mycroft headcanons#headcanons#mycroft holmes x reader#mycroft holmes smut#mycroft holmes headcanons#ynm mycroft#ynm mycroft holmes
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When Someone Flirts with You!
Hello friends! Lil hcs of what the men would do when someone flirts with you and makes you uncomfy!
PART 2
Includes: Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Razor, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, and Childe!
Come one, come all! See what happens when someone flirts with you in front of your men!
Hmm ok. He wants EVERYONE and their grandmother to know that you’re his.
He’ll usually come up to them and pat them on the shoulder. A lot of people know the cavalry captain. But in case they don’t because you’re not in Mondstat…
They usually just ignore him, maybe shrug him off as they continue to hit on you.
Kaeya REALLY doesn’t like that.
It depends on the situation, but usually Kaeya’s grip gets rougher and he’s not afraid to use his cryo to freeze anyone.
They’re either gone or frozen. Either way, they won’t be bothering you now!
“Hehe, come on. I heard there was a tavern nearby.”
He usually doesn’t get super jealous and possessive. In fact, he loves to watch you turn them down. But if you do need help, just look at him.
The first thing he does is come by and wrap his arm around the person bothering you AND JOINS THEM!
Of course the person’s confused and shoves the anemo archon away but he doesn’t let up. “What? You’re flirting with my partner but I can’t?”
It’s all fun and games until the person pushes Venti off and touches you. If you slap their hand off and they keep it up, say goodbye to Venti!! Barbatos has joined the chat (ugh a dead meme I know)
Venti will grab the hand that reaches for you again and in the blink of an eye, they’re blown away. Gone.
Though it’s his favorite method, he can’t go around beating people up because they flirt with you. Unless… unless you want him to.
“Goodbye! Make sure you remember my face and don’t touch my partner ever again!!” That was all said with a bright smile and cheerful tone.
Ok listen-
Diluc knows you’re strong so he’ll let you handle things on your own. All you need to do is call out to him or look at him for him to come help.
He usually tries to stay passive by standing in between you and the jerk. Unless they’re in Mondstat, no one knows him and usually tries to go around.
Diluc doesn’t play around. He doesn’t like it when people torment others, especially you.
The second choice is to give them a rough shove with a glare. “Leave.”
10/10 they’re leaving. I mean… he’s already pretty intimidating when idle. No one wants to see him actually angry!
“Learn to take a hint. And don’t ever touch them again.”
Oh boy…
Ok. Razor’s protective. He hates seeing you uncomfortable and if someone makes you uncomfortable, he hates them too.
Usually he stays back, but when you need him, he’ll just stand in front of you and growl at the person who’s bugging you.
1/10. Never works. People usually laugh at him and just shove him away, of course that’s not going to work, but hey, they tried.
Razor just needs a reason. One reason to start kicking ass AND HE’S TAKING IT!
It takes all of one second before a large purple wolf is smacking the person down. The second they see the Wolf Within, they’re scrambling up to run away. Whether they escape or not is truly up to you. If they bothered you enough, just let Razor know.
10/10 would recommend.
“Grr… let me hunt, (f/n).”
Xiao doesn’t really want to show that he gets worried about you, but he gets worried about you. Maybe a little too much sometimes.
Xiao also trusts you and believes you can definitely handle yourself (I mean you managed to turn HIM into your boyfriend-) so he prefers to let you deal with nuisances. But of course, if you need him, just call.
If you do, what he usually prefers to do is just grab your hand and try to walk away, completely ignoring the existence of whoever was flirting with you.
3/10. Sometimes works, but usually, people grab your other hand and pull you back.
Oh boy. The second he feels you get yanked back, whoever was bothering you, is on the floor with Xiao’s spear pointed at their throat. It takes a second for you to register it, yourself.
69/10 would recommend.
“Do not bother my (f/n) again.”
He’s not aggressive in the least bit. He’s rather polite about everything, considering there was someone flirting with you even though you repeatedly turned them down.
He’ll usually let them know you’re taken and you’re clearly uncomfortable.
Never works. Not one time has that line ever worked.
Well, he won’t let that discourage him. He’s not one who likes to jump into action immediately, but if he has to…
It takes all of two seconds before he has his sword pointed at the person. He’s passive to a certain point, but if someone’s really bothering you, they better start praying to the archons.
10/10, works every single time.
“Since that nuisance has been taken care of, let’s continue, shall we?”
He forgets about Mora all the damn time, but he’s never gonna be like that with you. In fact, he pays a lot of attention to you, so the second you’re uncomfortable, he’ll know.
Usually, he’ll just waltz in and push the person away. They may try to push him out of the way or go around him, but he’ll hold them in place by their arm.
This results in them usually getting angry. It works 50% of the time. I mean who wouldn’t be intimidated? But there are days where people just shove him off before returning to you.
That, he doesn’t like. There’s one thing to shoot your shot with someone who’s taken, but to ignore their discomfort? He won’t stand for that.
His next move is to just slam the person on the ground. There are times where… people just need to be put in their place! And he’s more than happy to oblige!
“Right, let’s go (f/n).”
Oh dear lord.
Childe is playful, he doesn’t become violent and aggressive the second someone bothers you. He’s heard tons about you and you can clearly handle yourself. But in the cases you can’t, he’s there to rescue you!
His method is to usually take the attention off of you. He just swoops in and starts chatting with the other person like nothing was going on, hinting that you’re taken and that they might wanna leave.
Of course, that never works. Ever. People usually ignore him, roll their eyes, or even try to get you to leave with them to go somewhere else.
Well. Do you have news for them. Childe doesn’t take to that very well. You’re attractive and cute and all, but you are his and no one’s gonna disrespect you like that.
It’s really a switch. He’s playful and funny one moment and the next he’s in a serious fight with whoever the hell was bothering you. As mentioned earlier, he’s not quick to fight. In fact, he’d rather not fight nuisances like that, but when someone bothers you, it sets him off. He just really doesn’t fucking like it.
“Hmph. One day… they’ll all know not to touch you.”
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin kaeya#genshin diluc#genshin venti#genshin zhongli#genshin xiao#genshin x reader#genshin xingqiu#genshin childe#kaeya x reader#diluc x reader#genshin razor#razor x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#venti x reader#kaeya headcanons#diluc headcanons#diluc imagines#kaeya imagines#venti headcanons#venti imagines#xingqiu x reader
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☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point!
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!!
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse social media au#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fic#corpse husband social media au#social media au#myso#make you say oh#quackity#dream smp#corpse x y/n#imagine#imagines#reader#xreader
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Hi! I love what you’ve written so far and I can’t wait to read more of your work 🥰 Can I get I crazy jealous Remus x reader x Sirius, like something happened and they get so possessive over you they’re trying to fuck you into reminding your theirs. You’re so overstimulated you’re trying to run away kind of fúcking. I can’t wait to see what you come up with lovely x
Hello darling! You are just the sweetest ever. Thank you so much for your support <3 Here is my best shot at your amazing request. I got a bit carried away, not sure that this can even be called a blurb tbh lmao.
Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader. Jealousy, Rough Sex, Overstimulation. Reader has an established safeword, everything is 100% consensual!
Sirius’s grip is tight on your elbow, Remus’s hand firm on the small of your back, as they lead you towards their dorm. You glance between the two boys, and the anger radiating off them is nearly palpable. You had innocent intentions, truly, when you’d been talking with the Slytherin boy in the year above you. He was kind, conversational, and showed genuine interest in your rambling stories. Perhaps that is why you’d failed to notice how his hand came to rest on your thigh, how his eyes were filled with more than a friendly adoration as you spoke. The way his eyes darted to your lips periodically. Remus and Sirius, however, despite being on the opposite side of the classroom, had not failed to notice.
You finally reach their dorm and Remus opens the door. You’re quickly pulled inside by Sirius, and the moment Remus has the door closed behind the three of you you’re shoved against it harshly. You look up at the dark haired boy as he pins your wrists above your head.
“I swear, I didn’t think-”
“Shut up.” Sirius snaps, pulling at your tie hastily with his free hand.
“But-”
“What did he say, darling?” Remus admonishes from beside you, voice a low warning.
“I don’t wanna hear a sound from you unless you’re screaming our names. Is that clear?”
You swallow nervously. “Ye-”
Sirius brings his hand down from your wrists, Remus’s quickly replacing it, and covers your mouth with his palm .
“Is that clear?” You realize your mistake and give a minute nod of your head under Sirius’s hand.
“Good.” His fingers have undone your tie and he pulls it off, removing his hand from your face to work open the buttons of your shirt.
“You need a reminder who you belong to.” Remus growls, tightening his grip on your wrists. You shake your head at him, trying to silently assure him that you’re well aware you’re theirs. Remus growls. “Don’t give me that bullshit, sweetheart. That Slytherin boy was moments away from snogging you right in the middle of the bloody classroom.”
“I didn’t know-“ your words are cut off by a yelp as Sirius lands a smack on your tit. You hadn’t even noticed he’d managed to free you from your shirt as you’d listened to Remus’s scolding.
“What did we say about talking, hm? Can’t even follow simple fucking directions.” Sirius snarls. Remus glances down, then, eyes narrowing at your exposed chest.
“Really? No bra?” A new wave of jealousy washes over Remus at the thought of anyone, especially that fucking Slytherin boy, catching a glimpse of your nipples through your white shirt.
“We’re going to teach you a lesson, pup.” Sirius growls. “These are our tits,” he gropes your flesh roughly “this is our mouth” he brings a hand up to grip your jaw, squeezing so your lips jut out in an exaggerated pout “and you are our slut” he pulls his hand back, giving your cheek a couple rough pats. You look up at him with wide eyes, offering a pathetic nod. Remus releases his grip on your wrists, pulling down your arms and guiding you to shrug your shirt off your shoulders. At the same time, Sirius pulls down your skirt and panties in one foul swoop. He moves to your shoes and socks next, which you step out of obediently. You flush as you’re left naked in front of the two fully clothed men.
“Aww, she’s embarrassed” Sirius’s teasing tone only makes you redder.
Remus tuts as he takes your hand and leads you towards Sirius’s bed. He turns you and pushes you onto it. You land on your back, tits bouncing, Remus watching them hungrily. He moves forward, positioning himself between your legs, as Sirius comes up to stand beside you. He runs his fingers through your hair a few times, lulling you into a sense of security with his gentle touch. You gasp when he gives a sudden, sharp tug, bringing your eyes up to meet his.
“Remus is going to eat out your slutty little pussy, and his name will be the only thing leaving your lips.” He growls out, looking down at you sternly. You nod, understanding the rule imposed on you.
Remus leans down, looking up to watch your expression as he blows cold air on your wet heat. You groan, squirming pathetically.
“Pl-” you stop yourself short, heeding Sirius’s earlier command. “Remus.” you murmur in place of the plea.
“That’s right, slut. Who gets to taste your sweet little cunt?” Remus asks, breath ghosting your lower lips as he speaks.
“Remus” you let out in a breathy whine.
“Remus” Sirius repeats, voice mocking, and your eyes dart up to his. “God, you sound pathetic” he sneers down at you. You bite your lip, looking down in shame. Sirius chuckles above you. “That doesn’t mean stop, darling. Want everyone to hear how pathetic you are for us.”
At that moment, Remus attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking intensely. You arch your back, Sirius’s grip in your hair keeping you from careening up off the bed.
“That’s right, he makes you feel so good, doesn’t he?” Sirius questions, fingers stroking your scalp once you’ve relaxed against the bed once more. You nod, whimpering, looking up at Sirius with wide, lust filled eyes. He simpers “Yeah, I know baby,” the same mocking tone still occupies his voice “Say it. Say who makes you feel good.”
“Remus- fuck!” your lewd moan gets cut off by the sudden word as Remus shoves two of his fingers inside you. Your wide eyes instantly snap to Sirius at your mistake. As you feared, his expression is predatory. He tsks.
“You had one rule, pup.” He admonishes, hand leaving your hair as he undoes the fly of his trousers. He pulls down his boxers just enough to free his cock, and you watch him, practically salivating. He gives it a few languid strokes, chuckling darkly as you turn your head towards him, mouth falling open, tongue out.
“That’s a good fucking slut, don’t even have to ask you to open your pretty little mouth, you’re just so desperate for cock.” He steps closer to you, hand tangling in your hair again. He gives you no time to think or prepare, just swiftly pushes his length down your throat till your nose is nestled in the hair at its base. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but he holds you down firmly, forcing you to either adjust or continue to gag around him. Somehow, after some careful breaths through your nose, you manage to do the former.
“There we go, that’s a better use for that mouth of yours. It’s made for sucking cock,” he pulls out of you almost completely, “not” he thrusts back in roughly, “for flirting with Slytherin prats .” You manage not to gag this time, nodding weakly around his dick. Remus, who has been diligently worshipping your pussy, crooks his fingers then. You moan, sending vibrations up Sirius’s cock. The pleasure that’s been slowly building in the base of your belly is reaching it’s peak, and Remus can tell by the way your cunt clenches around his fingers. He speeds up, fingering you hastily, still tonguing at your clit. You moan again, louder, though still muffled by the length in your mouth.
“You close? Gonna cum for us, pup?” You nod, looking up at Sirius with watery eyes. He pulls out of your mouth, tilting your head back with the hand in your hair, crouching so his face is inches from yours. Remus’s fingers continue to sponge over that sweet spot inside you with every thrust.
“Everyone in this fucking castle better know who made you feel this good, slut. Cum.”
“Remus!” you scream, high and hoarse, as your first orgasm of the evening crashes over you. Sirius spits into your open mouth before standing back to his full height.
“That’s fucking right.” he growls. You’re panting, pussy still spasming as the aftershocks of your high course through you, and you swallow Sirius’s spit without question. Whines begin to fall from your lips as Remus continues to lap at your pussy. You open your mouth to argue, but remember your rule just in time. You opt instead to reach down, pushing pathetically at Remus’s head as you squirm. He complies, lifting his head, but he keeps up his fingers’ steady rhythm inside you. You whimper, looking at him pitifully.
“You didn’t really think that would be it, did you love?” he asks with a quirked brow, wiping at his mouth with his free hand. You offer him a small shrug, biting your lip, leading him to chuckle. “That’s cute. You’re not off the hook that easy.” He finally pulls his fingers from you and you let out a contented sigh. He smirks, coming around to stand beside Sirius, who’s stroking his cock lazily as he watches you.
Remus reaches out, grasping Sirius’s face gently, and turns his head to the side, bringing their lips together. You watch, breathless, as they make out passionately, catching glimpses of tongue and teeth. Remus’s hand comes down, slapping Sirius’s away softly, and taking its place on his cock. You watch, cunt throbbing, as he strokes Sirius slowly, thumb swiping over his slit as it passes the head. Small, breathy gasps leave Sirius’s lips and Remus devours them eagerly, dominating the kiss. Finally, you can’t take it anymore, and you let out a needy whine. Remus chuckles into Sirius’s mouth before pulling away.
“Does someone want attention? You were practically begging me to leave you be just a moment ago.” Remus teases, looking down at you with lusty amusement. You nod, eyes wide and pleading as you stare up at him. “You can talk now, lemme hear ya.”
“Yes” you murmur, voice slightly hoarse as it’s only been used to scream for the past half hour.
“Yes what, slut? Remus was very kind to allow you to speak, do it right.” Sirius reprimands, voice somewhere between severe and mocking.
“Yes, want attention” you mumble out. A smirk blooms on Sirius’s previously stern face.
“You’ll get attention, love” Remus murmurs, wearing a similar smirk. He walks up to you, petting your cheek softly, and you give an appreciative hum. Sirius walks down to the foot of his bed where he proceeds to fully remove his trousers and underwear. Beside you, Remus is unzipping his trousers, freeing his own cock which is hard as a rock and flushed a deep red. You imagine it must be aching from lack of attention. Remus catches you staring and chuckles.
“Wanna suck me off, darling? Is your slutty mouth feeling empty without a cock in it?” He teases, stroking himself twice before allowing his fingers to come to rest at its base.
“Yes, please Remus, give it to me” you plead, wide eyes locked with his before you lower them to his cock and allow your mouth to fall open.
“Good girl.” he places a hand on the top of your head, guiding his length into your waiting mouth with the other. You moan happily as he enters you, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. He groans in response. “That’s it, love, take my cock so good. Only me and Sirius get to use this little mouth, hm?” he questions in a low voice. You give a hum of affirmation, eyes closed as you concentrate on the task before you, suckling his head and running your tongue along it expertly. “Look at me, love, wanna see those pretty eyes while you suck my cock.” You comply, bringing your eyes up to his, taking in his flushed complexion and adoring, possessive expression. His fingers rub your scalp soothingly. “That’s a good girl.”
Farther down the bed, Sirius has made his way between your legs. He grips your thigh with one hand, re-opening your legs which had fallen closed after Remus ceased his assault on your pussy. He keeps his hand planted there firmly, while his other grips his cock and begins to rub it through your slick folds.
You moan around Remus’s tip, lifting your hips in invitation. “Desperate for more already?” Sirius teases below you. He pushes his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you in one quick motion, groaning. You moan again, and Remus uses the opportunity to push his cock into your open throat. You choke slightly, sputtering, and he pulls back once more. You continue suckling at his head, bringing your now watery eyes up to his.
“That’s right, slut, choke on his cock.” Sirius growls out, setting a steady pace with his hips. Remus begins fucking your mouth in earnest, and you take him without dispute, gagging only occasionally.
“Good girl, fuck, you’re such a good cocksucker” he grits out, voice strained. You can tell he’s getting close already, having been on edge all evening with no release. Sirius’s hips have sped up slightly, and you let out another moan as he hits your g spot perfectly.
That’s what ends up finishing Remus off. The vibrations of the sound course through his cock and cause the coil inside him to snap. He lets out a long, low groan, and you feel the first shot of his seed hit your tongue. He pulls out then, and you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, still coated in his release. He strokes his cock, letting the final ropes of his thick cum splatter over your face and mouth. He lets go of his cock, panting, looking at the mess he’s made of you with lust blown eyes. “Swallow” he murmurs. You pull your tongue back into your mouth and allow the salty fluid to travel down your throat, eyes never leaving his.
Sirius growls, his strong thrusts into your pussy never having ceased. “Look at her, covered in cum like the dirty slut she is.” He brings his hand down and begins thumbing quick circles on your clit, causing you to let out a pornographic moan.
“Gonna come again, darling? Gonna come on his cock?” Remus murmurs, hand petting through your hair softly. You nod, whimpering, eyes wide. “Eyes on him, love, not me.” You obediently move your gaze down, meeting Sirius’s as he pulls another moan from your lips .
“Cum, slut. Milk my cock.” he rasps. Your body responds to the command instantly, and you scream, cunt spasming around the thick length that occupies it. Sirius lets out an animalistic growl as he feels your walls tighten around him. You shudder as the final shocks of your orgasm course through you. Sirius removes his thumb from your clit, planting his hand instead on the bed beside your waist. He uses it to prop himself up, allowing him to rut impossibly faster into your overworked cunt.
You whine as your sensitive cunt continues to be ravished. You bring your eyes up to meet Remus’s with a pathetic expression, as he’s far more likely to give in to your silent plea. You know you’re doomed when you’re met with a teasing pout. “Oh, I know love, ‘s too much. But Sirius hasn’t come yet, and that just won’t do, will it? Don’t you wanna make him feel good?”
You whine, and squirm, tilting your hips away from Sirius’s incoming thrusts. He growls, grabbing your waist with a bruising force and pulling you back down towards his cock. You yelp as it slides fully inside you yet again.
“Don’t you run from my cock, pup. You begged for this, and now you’ll take it like a good girl.” You let out a small, choked sob, but still offer him an obedient nod.
“That’s it, love, nearly there” Remus’s soft voice chips in beside your head, and you keen, leaning your head back into the touch of his fingers on your scalp.
Finally, Sirius grunts, hips stuttering, and you feel a shot of warmth in your channel. “Fuck” he curses as he unloads inside you, giving a few final thrusts as he works through his release. He stills, remaining inside you for a moment as he catches his breath, before he pulls out with a wet squelch.
You cringe, both at the sound and the sensation, and Remus coos soothingly, stroking a clean section of your cheek with one finger. “You were so good for us, darling, such a good girl.” he murmurs.
“Such a good slut, Moony.” Sirius corrects, moving off the bed to stand beside him, looking down at your cum covered face. “Our good slut.”
#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x sirius black x reader#remus lupin x sirius black#remus lupin#sirius black#reader insert#marauders smut#remus lupin smut#sirius black smut
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[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 1
[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]
Words: 9403
Archive of our own
Warnings : Explicit! / Blood / Injuries / Guns / Bruises / Choking / Blood / Graphic depiction of violence / Killing / Murder / Crying / Trauma /
Summary : Wrong place, wrong guy. Wrong in so many fucking ways it only made the attraction more sick and twisted...Yet I wanted more of him and would end up doing anything for him, with him.
If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask, I'd rather be safe than sorry
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Routine.
This would be how I would describe my way of life, a routine. I liked it like that, it was safe, comfortable and I was sure of what would happen. Far from me the idea of only doing the same things over and over again, I would sometimes go out with my friends or see a movie—doing things on a whim was not off the table. But I liked knowing what I was signing up for. Surprises, however, never were a thing I enjoyed—seeing my friends in my house when all I wanted was to relax after work was something dreadful and annoying to no end. I would pull through and be a good host, nonetheless, making sure everything was enjoyable, but I would be drained by the end of their stay.
Perhaps that need for reassurance, for a safety net, was the reason why I never truly took an artistic path or even considered any artistic career. It was too free, too unpredictable, too risky. Never could I have imagined myself doing such a thing; those who did were in my eyes the boldest and I admired them greatly for following their dream, but I was not bold, I preferred the solace of a job I knew would always bring me money. A simple 9 to 5 job was fulfilling enough for me; for some it was not, but I enjoyed it. It was something I could do and found relaxing to do, even when there was more rush. It just made sense to me.
There was not much thrill in this job. The people were nice enough; the clients were a bit bitter from time to time, depending on whether the job we had done was in their favor or not. Some of my colleagues would tell me crazy stories about some firms they had worked on or with and I would have a hard time believing it, but perhaps it was because different departments would deal with different types of clients. I had simple people: homeowners, tax payers, easy stuff. I liked it.
Now, even if I was keen on this routine that I had of going to my job, using the same transports, the same paths, headphones in to ignore the people around, I knew when following that same path would bring me trouble. I knew when to break that routine even just a little bit.
Tonight was one of those rare occasions. As I walked back home from work after having had to stay one more hour to help my colleague Darren fix his mistake—I made sure to tell him he owed me for helping him this late—I saw a group of men surrounding someone on the street. With one glance around, the entire street was empty except for those seven men and their victim. The usually crowded place was completely deserted and as I wondered how it could have happened, I noticed bikes at the end of the road blocking any possible traffic. It did not take a genius to know this was something far above me, there was no way I would interfere with that. Turning around, I made sure my steps were less heavy, less determined and started walking back. I did not have time to think I was going to get out of there safely when I heard, “Miss! Call the police-“. A thud sound, followed by a pained moan reached my ear.
When I dared look over my shoulder, I saw the man on his knees, blood pouring from his nose. I recognized him, he was a creepy older man that would sometimes stay longer on the train to look at younger women. Glancing at the other people around him, I kept my face as neutral as possible. Should I call the police? The outfits they wore all had the same sigil on them, the same pattern, and since they did not look like high schoolers I hardly believed those were school uniforms. Which led to the conclusion that they were the ones the news talked about a lot. The city was filled with gangs fighting over territory, not hesitating one bit to kill anyone who would cross them. I was sure of myself, assertive, yes… but I did not possess a savior complex. Seeing that man on the floor made me realize how wrong the system was, but I could not risk taking part in the situation and helping him. There were too many and clearly a lot scarier and stronger than I was. Looking away, I kept walking and heard them laugh, “That’s the right thing to do missy, he deserved it-“ “I said I was going to pay as soon as I got the money!” The victim interrupted; he was speaking very fast, but the fist smashing his jaw was faster to tell him to shut up. “It ain’t about that, you know it!”
Playing my music again, louder this time, I walked away and let them deal with everything, taking a different route than the one I would usually take. It’s alright to not have helped, you wouldn’t have made a difference… But he deserved it… I can still call the police… A turmoil inside my head started as I kept walking. After a few minutes, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police department’s number; they picked up quite fast, asking me what the emergency was. “There are gang members beating up a man in-“ “I’m sorry ma’am we can’t help with that, have a nice evening.” And just like that, the person on the other end of the phone hung up. Looking at my phone incredulously, I called again, all while taking a turn and walking by a warehouse, “Hello, you must have misunderstood me earlier—it is not a joke, there are gang members in the-“ This time, I was not interrupted by the person on the phone but by my arms being grabbed suddenly.
My heartbeat picked up, I suddenly felt sick and my head started spinning. When things like this happened, we’d always think it only happened to others, so when I realized it was happening to me, I did not feel well. Blood drained from my face, from my entire body. It all happened so fast: one moment I was walking past the warehouse, then suddenly my phone hit the ground and I joined it when I was thrown on it with force. My cheekbone took all the damage as someone pressed the side of my face onto the wet ground and made sure to put weight on my back to stop me from moving. I was shivering in fear already, but that fear only grew when my hair was pushed out of the way by a bloody hand, its knuckles painted red and brown from fresh and drying blood. The action did not feel one bit intimate, it was scary, intimidating. With the pressure on my back, I was pressed against the hard floor and could barely breathe, but in a situation like this I knew better than to talk.
I knew that. Yes.
So why did I talk? Why were my nerves acting up in moments like these?
“I am sure you got the wrong person—I’m just an accountant-“ A gun was now pressed against my cheek, I took it as a sign to shut up and did so. The man on my back twisted the gun a few times against my cheek, making me open my mouth from the weird movements against my teeth, like someone forcing a dog to open its jaws to get food out of it. “Aren’t we noisy? Tonight wasn’t the right night to feel heroic, girl.” The man asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes in discomfort, my breath hitching. Laughing sadistically, he continued talking, this time his tone lowered, “Rats shouldn’t snoop in businesses that aren’t theirs.” I felt the weight shift on my back, then heard him ask someone, “Keep beating him up, I’ll take care of her then we’ll continue having our fun,” His voice was stern but I still heard some tones of him being carefree, he was enjoying this. He then addressed someone else, “Sounds good to you?” The answer consisted of muffled cries, attempts at screams that were cut off by hits then a gun cocking. With a sigh, the man on me pulled the gun away from my face and tutted the man who was bound on his knees.
I felt the weight leave my back but did not dare move, I stayed right where I was. Steps on the humid ground were heard, getting away from me but clearly approaching the man who I assumed was being tortured. The gun fired soon after, startling me as I tensed up and closed my eyes a few seconds before opening them again. The crazy man that put me on the ground laughed loudly, “Come on, it’s just the thigh, you can still walk for now, yeah?” He had said. Turning my head to look at them, I saw the older man on his knees, hands tied behind his back and suit bloody. His tie was undone, and he had wounds all over his face and chest. “I said you can walk, yeah?” Recognizing the voice, I could put a face to my aggressor as I watched him remove his glove before grabbing the victim by his arm and making him stand up, only to force him to wobble a bit. “See! I am being nice! Talk and it’s all over, come on.” He cooed in something that could be seen as sweet if it wasn’t happening in a warehouse with violent people and a man bleeding on the ground.
“I told you! I don’t know anything I-“ The man with the long earring in his left ear did not think twice before punching the office worker in the face with enough force. I believe I heard his nose crack. I caught a glimpse of the tattoos adorning his hands but could not decipher, from how far I was, what was written on them. The crazy man laughed after the punch, “Wrong answer! Haha, you have one last chance, ok?” He said, leaning over so that his face was at the same level as the other man’s. From my place on the ground, I could only see the wicked smile on his face, and it made me feel uneasy. The tall violent man was clearly crazy, having such a man roaming the city did not seem safe at all and it scared me to think of what else was happening in the shadows. “Alright, alright, please Reaper-“ The man he called Reaper gripped his chin tight and chuckled, “Straight to point, I don’t have time to waste on vermin like you, you’re no fun.” He said as a matter of fact, as if they both believed this. His face had turned serious so quickly that I feared the moment I felt like I could escape, he would change his mind in half a second.
The bleeding man nodded quickly, tears streaming down his cheeks, “It’s Silas&Sons—That’s the name of the firm that discovered something was off-'' While I was left in shock at the mention of the firm I worked at, the Reaper grinned and brought the gun to the man’s forehead, “Wasn’t hard, was it?” the man tried to tell him not to shoot, adding that the violent one had promised he would stop. The latter shook his head, “I said it’ll all be over! Listen carefully next time,” He said the last part like a parent berating their child then winked and pressed the trigger, killing the man in less than a second as his body hit the ground, blood spattering behind him. The man with black and blond hair looked at the body on the ground and chuckled to himself, “There won’t be a next time, but you get the jest.” He huffed with a wave of his hand before handing back the gun he had been given earlier. Turning around, his eyes locked on mine. I widened my eyes in pure terror and turned my face to be in the position he had left me in; I was aware he had seen me, but I was hoping he would not mention it.
The other people that were in the room had gone silent and were probably all looking at me, the woman lying on the floor, shaking, dreading for her life. The odds of me coming out of this unscathed seemed to be decreasing the more I observed what was happening around me. A stinging pain reached my scalp making me hiss, as someone lifted my head from the ground to make me look at them. While turning my head their way, I saw two men sitting on a crate, one with two braids that were long enough to go down to his ribcage while the other had shorter purple hair and glasses. Boredom adorned both their features alongside blood stains on their outfits, and yet they were nonchalant about it. I saw a man leaning behind another crate but barely managed to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that the man called Reaper snapped his fingers in front of me. “Here, I’m your tormentor, not them, yeah?” He grinned. Meeting his gaze again, I forced myself to keep my mouth shut and kept my eyes on him.
“You’re being courageous, not even crying yet! You’re a fun one, gotta love it.” He said happily, his hand patting the cheek that had taken most of the damage when he slammed me on the ground. I flinched when I saw his hand approach my face then winced at the rough touch against the bruising skin. “What will I do with you little rat? Eavesdropping ain’t nice, tattling ain’t it either.” The latter was said in a more serious tone as his expression turned somber, any humor that dripped from his words a moment ago was completely gone and he was now looking at me with caution. “Get up, come on.” I did not have a choice, the grip in my hair did not slacken and I had to follow his movement to avoid most of the pain. My clothes were dirty and damp from the humid ground; I felt my legs shake as I got to my feet and hissed at the pain when he yanked my hair for me to follow him quicker.
Pushing me forward, he threw me against the crate where the two other men were sitting. Hitting my shoulder against the wooden item, I swore under my breath and was about to fall to my knees again when the man with the long braids wrapped his legs around my neck and somewhat choked me. Caught off guard, I gripped his shins tight and tried to break free, but his hold only tightened. I heard him mock me while he dug his heels deeper in my biceps from the position he was in, “Stop moving and it’ll stop hurting, fuck you’re stupid.” He sighed with disdain, bringing me closer towards him but it only pressed my neck against the wood. Gritting my teeth, I stopped trying to get him to let go and let my arms fall to my side, when I felt the choke weaken and took a large intake of breath while focusing my eyes anywhere but on the man in front of me.
The manic laughter I had now heard many times in those few minutes I was on the floor reached my ears again, “I can see you wanna live, what are you willing to do to stay alive?” He asked in a light tone. It was a real question, but I did not want to do anything. I wanted to punch them and make a run for it, but they had guns and strength, none of which I could match in any way. I kept my mouth shut again.
The Reaper chuckled again, “I don’t know if you keeping your pretty mouth shut is a curse or a blessing-“ he stopped himself and slapped my now undamaged cheek with as much force as he could, making me yelp at the pain. I kept my face turned the direction his hand had turned it, but he gripped my chin forcefully and made me look at him. His expression had turned almost sour as he stared right into my eyes, “Fucking answer the question, what are you willing to do?” he spat, his face only breaths away from mine. Keeping a frown on, I uttered, “I wasn’t calling on you, there were people blocking another road-“ His mouth contorted into a smile once again as he pushed my face against the crate before letting go as he threw his hands in the air, and turned around on himself once, “She speaks! God it’s so entertaining to see you’re—Still. Not. Crying.” He gritted through his teeth the last three words before leaning over once again, his face very close to mine just like before.
“You’re telling me it’s a coincidence then?” He asked in a playful tone, clearly mocking me.
Fuck I wanted to make a run for it and get away from here. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest the longer I spent time here, the only thought running through my mind was: I am going to die here. How else would I end up? He had killed a man that had told him what he wanted to know, so no matter what I said he would kill me, right? Stammering a bit, I nodded the best I could with legs still around my neck, “Yes, I hadn’t seen you were here, I-“
“You’re funny! I’ll give you that! God you’re-“ He pulled back and made a rapid movement of his arms approaching me, as if putting me on display, “You’re fun! Ran, let her go.” The first part was said in excitement, the latter in the utmost seriousness. The moment he had spoken those words, the man let go of my neck and I was about to stumble when the Reaper grabbed me by the shoulders. He was tall, strangely tall, way above average, and it only added to all the traits that already made him scary. My whole body tensed, I thought this was it. He glared at me for a few moments before speaking to one of his friends, his gaze never leaving mine, “What do we know?”
An unknown voice reached my ear, it was close, so it must have been the other man on the crate, “Seems like a civilian, said she was an accountant. She also seemed surprised when the vermin said Silas&Son.” That perked the Reaper’s interest.
“Oh, so the little girl knows things. Have they sent you?” He asked, forcing me to look up by gripping my chin once more. He did not care the amount of strength he used, he couldn’t care less if I was uncomfortable, to him I was just a puppet that he could throw around and play with. Clearly he was right since I moved along and did not fight back. If I did, I would die, I was sure of it. “I was walking home from work—I saw my usual path was blocked and people were ganging up against a man so I-“ “You ran? The rat isn’t one for conflict, eh?” He patted my head and smiled almost reassuringly before letting go of me, making sure I fell on the floor. “Then? Make this quick, this ain’t the time for a bedtime story.”
“I called the police so that they could check—they said it was none of their business so I tried again and you-“ Fuck I was stuttering, the stress was too much and once I had fallen on my back, he was a lot more intimidating. He could just pull out his gun and shoot me, I could not get up with how I was shaking.
“You tried to do the right thing, right?” He asked, his back now turned to me. I could not gauge his emotion, so I replied sincerely, “Yes, it was all that I could do-“
Suddenly he turned around and pointed a gun at me, grinning, “Wrong! You could have helped the poor, poor man on the street, yeah? But you didn’t, why?” I did not reply right away, so he waved the gun around before crouching right in front of me and taking a good look at me. “They were too many-“ “That never stops a hero, does it? It’s all about charisma, determination, letting your body act faster than your brain, no?” He asked rhetorically, but while I waited for him to continue he sighed and looked down, his gun dropping lower as his arm fell limp. He started mumbling to himself a moment, using the gun to scratch his hair. Perhaps it was not the most adequate time to do so, but I looked at his outfit and saw he was wearing suit pants and a white business shirt. Quite the outfit for a murderer, but he had made sure to pull his sleeves up to not stain it. He was right in doing so since all the blood from earlier was on his black gloves and his forearms.
“Tell me, rat,” He slowly looked up and gave me a wicked smile, “Are you a hero?” He brought the gun to my forehead and all I did was close my eyes in fear. A sob escaped my lips as I tried to back away, but I was only met with the wooden crate, accidentally bumping my head against the shoes of one of the men sitting on it. “Do you believe there is good in this world? That it deserves to be saved? Hm? Would you die for this pathetic excuse of a world?” He pressed the gun even more against my skin. I heard the click as he disengaged the safety and tried to close my eyes even more than how I had already shut them, but found it impossible. My entire body was shaking, there was no helping the sobs escaping my mouth even by covering it.
I felt a gentle hand push my hand away and opened my eyes in confusion, only to see that the man who was holding a gun against me was grinning, “Answer the question.” He turned the gun horizontally and rested his arm on his knee as he placed his head on his free hand, completely relaxed. Getting lost in thoughts, I stared emptily at him while he started counting down, “Three…” Am I a hero? How would one describe a Hero? None of the mythological heroes could define me, none of those famous franchises either. “Two, think faster.” What answer did he want? Should I give him what he wants, or should I just be honest? “One-“
“I’m not a hero, I didn’t call right away because he deserved it, I-“ Taking a deep breath, I tried to take a hold of myself and calm down the best I could. “He harassed people, no one ever did anything about it-“
“See! Wasn’t hard, was it? Good girl,” He patted my head before moving the gun under my chin and raising it with the end of the gun, his finger never leaving the trigger, “You’re also a bad person then, you’re like us, right? Some people do deserve to die!”
Shuddering, I took a shaky breath and inhaled, “I’m nothing like you-“ “If he died it’s because ye didn’t act quick enough, don’t you agree?” He inquired with a pleading look, the mockery never leaving his tone. “I don’t, no.” My words were followed by the gun leaving my person as the man stood up quickly and barked out a laugh before asking his friends if they had heard that, they only grumbled in reply. He tucked the gun in the back of his pants and I quickly let my head down in fear I had triggered him somehow, frightened it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I like you, accountant woman. I just wanna see one thing to know what I should do with you—well two, but I’ll start slow.” Bringing his arm behind his back, I tensed again but then felt the gun hit my ankle as he threw it at me.
“Shoot me,” He ordered as he crouched in front of me, his arms crossed over his knees while grinning broadly. “I killed a guy, right? I am bad, killing me should make you a hero.” His little speech was stupid, it only started a vicious cycle of death with no end. Killing a killer that killed one person? It’d make me a killer that killed one person, and so on. But he brought his hand to mine and wrapped my fingers around the handle of the gun before pressing it against his forehead. “Here, you can’t miss from this close, show me you got guts! Come on, do it.” That grin turned into something scary, manic, he was getting off on the thrill. But my hands were shaking, I had never held a gun before, never intended to, but tonight was nothing if not exceptional. When I tried to put my arm down, he grabbed my elbow and kept it up, “It’s you or me, come on, make this fun for both of us-“ “I’m not shooting you in the head! You’re insane-“
Hearing my words well, he barked a laugh then guided the gun to his heart, one of the men behind me sighed and told him to hurry up, but the Reaper only shushed him. “Here, then? Sounds better?” Nothing was right in his head; I couldn’t understand what he was doing. No matter how hard I tried, I did not know the point he was making, but taking all this time to think about it made me lose the position of power he had given me. Forcing my hand to let go of the gun, he took it and, at the speed of light, put it in my mouth, making a sob escape it as he did so. “That’s a missed opportunity, too bad.” He shrugged then as I saw him press the trigger. I closed my eyes, my hands gripping my thighs so tight, it must have left some marks under the fabric of my pants.
The click of the trigger echoed, and I felt myself jump on the spot at how loud the bang was—so this is it? That thought crossed my mind rapidly, but was shoved aside by the loud ringing in my ears. I then heard footsteps echoing around the warehouse. The gun was no longer in my mouth, there were no bullets, it was a blank; I felt my stomach churn and opened my eyes in panic before pushing my tormentor away. I was surprised when he let me do so, but it was better for him. Slamming my hands down, I was on the floor as I emptied my stomach on the concrete. Chuckles reached my ears along with the whispers of a few words, “Can’t even stomach a bit of gun play.” “Should have killed her, blood stench leaves easier than vomit.” The latter comment made one of them laugh.
When I was done, I thought for a second that death was quick, most of the time. And when it wasn’t, you expected it, you weren’t filled with stress. Hence why no one ever spoke of post-mortem vomit. It made me laugh only for a second until I was pushed back on my ass when the man with the earring pressed his foot against my chest, making me wince. “Your name, what is it?” he asked seriously.
Feeling some sort of confidence build up, I looked up at him and leaned over, using the hem of his pants to wipe my mouth, but did not answer. The seriousness on his face turned into the look of someone who had been challenged; he snapped his fingers, then I heard someone say my name, my birthdate and my birthplace. Looking at the person who kept reading out loud, I saw the man with a tiger tattoo on his neck approach before tossing my wallet at me. I did not know when they had found the time to pickpocket me, but they managed to. My cheeks were burning up from the sickness, the stress and the embarrassment this entire situation brought but I still tried to keep my head high, for what it was worth. Bringing my hands to my face, I only now felt the tears that had rolled down my cheeks.
“Okay little tattletale, I think I’ll let you go for now-“ “Are you not going to kill me? Isn’t this what you do?” I asked in a weak voice, not even attempting to get up after all the time you had been mishandled. Both the man with the earring and the tattooed one were standing in front of me. The former reached out for my hand to help me get up, I did not take it, so he sighed loudly and bent over to grab my bicep and forcefully get me up. “We only kill snitches and annoying fucks, are you one of those?” I was about to tell him no when he leaned over suddenly and pressed his index against my lips to shut me up. Startled, I tried to step back but he held the back of my head with his free hand and beamed, “No, you’re not. You’re gonna be useful, you’re just the right amount of malleable,” The finger that had left my mouth moved to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, I shivered in disgust, “I can see it in your eyes that you’ll be a fun one to work with.”
I tried to pull away from him, but his hand gripped my hair tight and kept me in place, stopping me from leaning back when he approached closer, “Since you’re not a hero, we’ll make you a villain then—I mean, it’s not going to be hard considering your stance on killing.” He grimaced at that before turning it into a full laugh and letting go of me.
“Rindou, take her back to her place-“ “I’m not doing that, I got plans with Ran. Send the tiger boy, we’re done for tonight.” The one with purple hair and glasses said as he hopped off the crate, followed by the other man on it. It made the Reaper’s face turn sour as he gripped the one who had just spoken and tightened his hold on his shoulder, “I don’t do escorting, that’s your job.” He gritted through his teeth.
Seeing the tension, I put my wallet back in my bag and cleared my throat, “I’ll—I can walk home on my own, by now they must be gone-“ All of them looked at me with a threatening gaze, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. The man with the braids started walking off, Ran was his name I believe, along with the man with the tattoo on the neck, while the two others stayed right there and glared at me. When I took a step back, taking their silence for permission, the Reaper wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to him, “Right, I’ll do it tonight. Just because she’s a fun one-“ “I can walk home alone, it’s no problem,” I tried to push him away, my hands were shaky and had a few scraps. Without the constant manhandling, not that I missed it, I could feel the dampness of my clothes and how cold it was getting.
Looking down at me without any expression on his face, the Reaper turned us around and waved everyone goodbye, his arm never leaving my shoulders. “We both know that’s not true, if we let you walk home alone you might get beaten up by—how did you put it? ‘Gang members’, yeah, that was what you said on the phone.” He hummed, shoving his free hand in his pocket as he guided us outside. I felt uneasy in his hold, I felt like he was walking me towards my execution. I did not want to lead him to my house, but what choice did I have? He would find it sooner or later; at least that’s what he said, but I did not know how much truth there was to it. In my eyes, it was but a small group of violent men that had killed someone.
“In the end you did get beaten up by a gang member, but it could’ve been worse.” He said lightheartedly as he stopped in front of a car. When I paused my steps and still did not look at him, simply waiting for his next move, I felt him grab my chin and turn my head towards him. My breath hitched in fear as I met his golden eyes. He seemed a bit bored now, but I couldn't care less how he felt, I wanted to bolt away from his touch. “You should disinfect that, and you’ll definitely bruise, but you probably have makeup or something to hide that.” He shrugged.
When he leaned over again, I brought my hands in front of me and closed my eyes to stop him from touching me, but I only heard him huffing a laugh next to my ear as he opened the door of the passenger seat. “Get in, I’ll drop you off.” Looking up at him, I blinked a few times then glanced at the inside of the car. I don’t know what I was expecting, something dirty, bloody, disgusting perhaps. But instead, it was perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. It looked like an expensive car, but perhaps it was just very clean, I did not know. Still unsure, I hesitantly got inside and was about to close the door but felt a certain strength holding it back. The man was leaning on the door and bent over to peek his head inside the car, thinking he needed something. I pressed myself more against the seat to let him grab what he wanted, but his hand reached for the belt and fastened it for me.
“Wouldn’t want you to escape—ah, I mean, safety first.” He said mockingly before winking and slamming the door shut. My hands found their way to the belt and held it tight as I watched him walk around the car. His steps were too big for me to make a run for it, he would catch up on me in no time, I was stuck with him. As he entered the vehicle and fastened his own seatbelt, he pointed at the glove box and handed me his gloves, “Put them back and hand me a wipe, tattletale.”
His craziness was a lot more toned down, for a second I wondered how many faces this man had. The one I was seeing right now was intimidating from how put together he seemed, the other one was scary from how unexpected his actions were. “Why aren’t you killing me?” I asked without looking at him, focused on pushing the gun out of the way inside the glove box and grabbing the little pack of wipes. Giving it to him, his brow was quirked, “Because you’re a good girl,” He grinned, wiping his hands as he continued, “No one would ever suspect you’re working with the likes of a gang. You’re gonna be useful and that’s all that matters, you should be thankful I didn’t kill you. I hate people who eavesdrop.” He said, as he shoved the wipe in the door compartment.
“I didn’t eavesdrop.” I muttered, looking outside the window when he started the car. The laugh that erupted out of nowhere scared me, making me tense again, I dared to look his way and saw his manic smile again. “So, you’re an accountant, pretty boring. You should be thrilled I chose you.” He said in a mix of pride and humor before increasing the volume of the music then drumming his fingers on the wheel. Thinking about his words some more, I glanced his way and lowered the volume, catching his attention as he looked me dead in the eyes. “What if I don’t want to work with you?” I asked, measuring my tone to not piss him off, it did not take a genius to understand this man was unstable and that I needed to tread lightly around him.
Even with as much care as I put in my voice, his reaction was sudden when he turned the wheel and stopped the car on the side of the road. Passing cars honked in annoyance but the man did not care one bit while I had slammed my hand on the dashboard to stop my head from hitting it. Insulting him under my breath, I looked up and saw he had placed his arms on the wheel, his left cheek resting on his forearm. “Then leave. Get out right now, nothing’s stopping you.”
“What’s stopping me is that you’ll kill me, or you’ll run me over, multiple times,” I could see the smile on his face was spreading, but he did not move. The condescendence in his lack of reaction, of action, annoyed me but at the same time frightened me, was he going to slam my head against the window? Against the dashboard? I did not know, but I continued, stammering this time from how nervous I was becoming, “My life is on the fucking line, that’s what’s holding me back.” I spat. My eyes had never left his, even as his smile turned into a grin and his slender fingers gripped the wheel tighter.
When he did not look away, I did. At the same time, I turned on the seat and fully looked ahead instead of facing him. A silence set for a moment then I heard the car start and the man sighed, content, “You’re smart to stay, you’re only alive because I can use you. If you had left, I’d have shot you and left you on the side of the road to die.” He said in a light tone. The words he had spoken had the same effect of a bullet; my guts took a hit without being truly hit. I did not have a choice at all, I was stuck working for a man I did not know without even knowing what I had to do.
His hand rose and I closed my eyes, flinching slightly, “Type in your address, tattletale.” With the little confidence that remained, I lifted my shaky hand and typed it in while telling him that I had a name. Then added, “You should use it. Maybe there is a name I can call you by?” I was not asking for his ID, nor anything specific, if he had a codename in his stupid gang or something like that I would go with it, but calling him Reaper in my head sounded idiotic. “Sorry doll, I think nark or snitch suits you a lot more.” He hummed a moment, throwing me a glance from the corner of his eyes as his hands moved on the wheel absent-mindedly. Huffing in annoyance, I placed my elbow against the window and rested my chin against my fist, thinking he was done. After all, why should I care what he called me? I should simply call him an asshole if he was so keen on calling me a snitch. Or perhaps I should live up to the title and do exactly that, tell the police.
A hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me out of my daydream with my head bumped against the window. Wincing in pain, I heard the man laugh loudly while being focused on the road, “That’s deserved for not paying attention.” He said through laughter. “Pay attention to what? The road? I’m not the one driving-“ “To me, you should keep your guard up, snitch. Who knows what I could do.” He said with a deadpan expression. Without looking at me, he brought his hand to tuck my hair out of the way, then glanced at me and smirked. His touch was light, almost gentle. It allowed me to get a proper look at his tattoo, but I could not focus on it at all, I only tensed up before feeling him grip my throat and bring me closer to him. I made a choking sound and complied to avoid as much pain as possible, “You can call me Hanma, as long as you don’t scream it from every fucking rooftop.”
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. This night was not going as planned at all and every time I found any respite, it would be ruined, and the man would turn violent again. I could not let my guard down, I knew it but when he would just stay put, I could not help myself but think he was done. Clearly he wasn’t. His hold lessened a bit, so I took the opportunity to claw his hand away and pull myself back, my own hand around my throat in protection. “They called you the Reaper.” I croaked, wanting him to talk more so that I wouldn’t have to.
“They did, yeah.” He shrugged.
That was it. He did not add anything else. The matter was closed. When I asked him why they did that, he pulled the car on the side of the road again, startling me in the process. With how on edge I was, I did not realize where we were and thought he would be mad again, but instead he looked over my shoulder and nodded, “That’s you, get out.” He told me as his left arm rested on the wheel while the right one was on the back of the seat, casually leaning on it while looking at me. Looking behind me, I saw my house and felt some hope at finally being able to get home and yet… I did not leave right away and instead prodded, “The news talks about your gang, how many people did you kill?” His eyes traveled from my head to my hands then up to my head again, the arrogance never leaving his face as he leaned back against the car door and waved a hand dismissively, “Take a guess, I think it should be fun.”
I was about to give him a number when he leaned forward quickly, his face right in front of mine as he whispered, “Don’t forget those in comas or those at the hospital, they might not be dead, but they might as well be,” He chuckled happily then approached even closer, his lips right next to my ear, “They’re only alive because I said they could be, like you are. One wrong move and,” leaning back quickly, he clapped his hands, “Bang, dead.” He said dead meaning those in the hospital, but I fully understood he was threatening me, I was not an idiot.
Taking this as my cue to go, I unbuckled my seatbelt and when I was about to open the door, I heard the mechanism of the car locking it. Turning around to look at Hanma, I wordlessly asked if he needed anything else. His hand reached out towards me, “Your phone.”
“I didn’t record this or anything, I was not on a call with the police either, I-“ snatching it from my hand while I was rambling, Hanma tried to unlock it but instead was met with a locked screen. Hesitantly, I took it from his hand, mine being a lot shakier than his seeing how steady his were and unlocked it before giving it back to him. A minute passed and he handed the phone back to me, “We’ll be in contact. Things are gonna change for you, doll. Hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”
He was an unusual character, he was confusing, violent, and surely insane. All of those things added up in my mind, making me accidentally let it slip, “How can one be ready with you? Crazy man…” I said it all under my breath and huffed the last part as I pushed the door open. I let out a sigh when the door opened easily, part of me even thanked the man for not keeping me in any longer but I was still on my toes, certain he would say something else as I left the car, but he did not.
Grabbing my bag, I shuffled away from the car that still hadn’t moved and kept glancing over my shoulders until I reached the door where I struggled to put the key in the keyhole. At each failed attempt my frustration grew, the swears flooded out of my mouth easily and soon it turned into a stupid crying of frustration. “Fuck this, fucking shit-“ when the key finally fit, I hurried inside and locked the door behind me again but this time with the sliding lock, knowing full well I would struggle again too much to lock my door with the key seeing how tensed I still was.
The darkness of my home was what welcomed me. It was awful, it was cold and above everything it felt oppressive—my face was heating up, I was suffocating, my clothes were burning my skin, but I was also shaking. Fanning my face, I made my way to the bathroom with heavy steps, my breath was quickening, was it breathing or heaving? I needed to calm down, I needed to ground myself but I did not know how, this never happened but I felt like I was dying. I could not breathe, my lungs hurt at each intake of breath. “Fuck, fuck, shit, calm down“ I panted while taking off my clothes, I needed to take everything off, I wanted to burn them, it was filthy, disgusting and smelled wretched.
As I took off my top, I caught a whiff of the stench of the warehouse and let out a sob but did not let it stop me even if I could not breathe. I removed the rest of my clothes and knelt by the bath, leaning over to turn the shower on but did not wait for it to be warm to step inside and let it pour all over my dirtied body. The coldness made me take a deep breath that seemed to have helped with the panic attack I was having, but it did not help the crying, so I let it all out while I was washing up. What have I gotten myself into? What happens next? What am I supposed to do now? Is he going to ask me to kill someone? Am I going to have to use a gun? I didn’t want to do any of those, I only walked by something I had nothing to do with and—letting out a scream of frustration, I sat down in the bath and let the water rain on me. I ran my hands through my wet hair and placed my elbows on my knees, grunting again, “I don’t do gangs… I do numbers, I don’t have time to murder people…” I mumbled.
Letting my own words sink in, I let out a chuckle at first and focused my gaze on the wall in front of me then laughed again, shortly. I don’t have time to murder people, yeah… “Because if you had time you would?” I asked myself jokingly as I stood up, laughing again. Shaking my head, I shut the shower off and got out, almost slipping on the water that had splattered around the bath. I hadn’t taken time to put a towel on the floor or prepare anything, fortunately I managed to balance myself and took one from the closet. Once I was dry, I wrapped my robe around my form and stopped in front of the mirror, taking a proper look at the damage I had taken.
The scratch on my cheekbone was bruised, there was another bruise on my neck that I could probably hide with a turtleneck, the season allowed it, and if not with a turtleneck then a scarf would do the trick. Disrobing myself just to take a look at the rest of it, I had some bruises on my arms where I was grabbed to be moved roughly, without counting the pain on my ass but no one would see that. Passing my tongue over my teeth, I was glad as I still had all of them, but my jaw hurt, “Did I bite the inside of my cheek? At what moment could-“ A flashback of when the man slapped me with full force appeared in my mind, fueling me with a bad feeling of uneasiness as I put back my robe. “Bastard…” I huffed before opening the door of my bathroom and stepping inside the dark room again. Talking to myself, I continued, “Nothing’s stopping me from telling the police, who does he think he is? I could very well call them, yeah…” I paused in my steps and scoffed dryly, “Not that they’d listen.”
The news was always talking about the gangs in the city, telling us that the police were working on stopping them, but no one knew the people that were supposed to defend and help were a bunch of sellouts, bribed out idiots. The system we had put our trust in had decided to fuck us over and to leave us to ourselves, it was because of them that I was in this situation. It’s not like it had been hard to stumble upon one of their gang meetings. They might claim discretion, but if anyone could find them, it was anything but. “Who am I kidding? I am fucked,” I barked a laugh and turned on the light, “Guess I am a gang member-“ I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the man my thoughts were plagued with, sitting on my couch, his legs crossed with one ankle over a knee. “Not exactly, you still need to prove yourself. But I love the enthusiasm!” He said while placing an arm on the back of the couch and looking at me with a satisfied smile, not even fully facing me, only to look right ahead once he was done talking.
Usually, one would say don’t turn your back on your enemy, but he was the predator here, he had nothing to fear, I was the one shaking in my metaphorical boots. Deciding to not be useless, I was about to shuffle to the kitchen discretely when I saw him beckon me closer by bending his index finger. Thinking I could play it off as not having seen it, I took one step towards the kitchen when I heard him click his tongue over his teeth, “I said, come here.” Stopping dead in my tracks, I did not speak, and silently opened my bag to pull out my phone and start recording. His hand gripped the back of the couch and I heard him chuckle mockingly, “Ran said you were stupid, but we both know you’re not, now come.” Putting the phone properly on the furniture, I followed his order and walked up to him to stand right in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest to close my bathrobe up to my neck.
“How the fuck did you get in?” I spat. He was not driving, which meant he could not throw me out of a speeding car. He was not surrounded by other maniacs either, and if he had a gun and decided to shoot me, I would have proof of it. There was a semblance of safety, even amidst the fact that the man had broken in without caring. It led me to have some confidence.
The man grinned and leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees. His demeanor was one of a man in control, he knew he could do anything to me because I would bend, he said it himself, I was malleable. But not for lack of will, simply by fear. And if he kept bending me this much, I would not last long, I would break. As long as I feared him, he had the upper hand… but I was not feeling fearless yet. With a low chuckle, he simply said, “Broke in with pliers,” then showed me the pair of pliers lying on the couch. I glanced at my door and saw the chain of my lock was broken as he had said, but that loss of attention directed to him annoyed him. Snapping his fingers, he brought my attention back to him, “Here, you should make a double of your key-“ “I’m not doing that. First, you’ll pay me back for breaking my lock, then if you want to meet up for whatever you got planned for me, you pick a spot but not-“
My breath hitched when Hanma rapidly stood up, his form towering mine as he looked down at me with his hair falling randomly on his forehead. “We got a lotta confidence suddenly, don’t we? Go ahead, finish your sentence, I’m listening.” He cooed in a condescending tone, his face approaching mine as he hovered slightly over me. Looking up at him, I looked down to his chest feeling my confidence wane slightly. When I tried to step back, not liking how close he was to me, he placed his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Come on partner, let it all out, you seem to have a lot on your mind. Keeping it all bottled up ain’t gonna end up well. We should get along if we’re gonna work together, yeah?” He said in a fake listening attitude, we both knew he didn’t care but I was riled up and clenched my fists.
“I don’t want you in my house, you’re a piece of shit. I don’t want to get along, I want you to fuck off—Get out.” I managed to say everything without stuttering, but his grip tightened on my shoulder, making me tense up even if it was not painfully tight. Simply knowing that nothing was holding him back, not his mind, nor his ethics, nothing. His mood was the turning point of his actions, which means one change of emotion could make him go feral and hit me, it scared me. Hissing mockingly, he tilted my chin up to make me look at him, a smirk adorning his face, “Make me leave then, do something about it.” Grabbing both my shoulders, he pushed me back slightly then spread his arms wide, a huge smile on his face, “Go ahead, I won’t do anything—it’s free hits,” He taunted. When I did not move, he pointed at his face and licked his lips like an animal looking at its next meal.
“Do it, show me your guts, little rat! I hit you right? I put a gun to your head, that must be so annoying, right?” Biting the inside of my cheek, I could feel my frustration building up inside me again. He had done all those things, and no regret was written on his face, none. He had killed a man, broken inside my house, manhandled me and hit me. He had mocked me, humiliated me, mistreated me and while it all happened in a short time span, I already felt strongly about him. Reminding myself all that, I hadn’t realized the hit that flew from my person until it landed on his jaw, my fist feeling like it had hit a wall. His face turned to the side by the end of the action.
Using the heel of his hand to wipe the blood that dripped from his mouth, he looked at me with hooded eyes and grinned, his teeth colored red, “That’s hot, but ye shouldn’t have done that.”
[Part 2]
#tokyo revengers#hanma shuji#hanma x reader#hanma shuji x reader#fanfiction#writing#writers#physicalturian AO3#physicalturian#deranged love#archive of our own#tokyo revengers hanma#tokyo revengers x reader
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Ziggy, why are you so sure about TKB being right all the time and that his people were demonized by the “classist royalty”? I haven’t read the manga, but as I’ve seen, we seem to have no clue about Bakura being right and the Kul Elna people being demonized due to being low class. Who knows, maybe they were truly evil and deserved it? Can you please explain? 😕
Hello!
Sorry for replying this late. I’m gonna add some manga panels (read right to left) to explain better.
tw: slaughtering ?
The answer is simple: because no one is just evil.
Let’s start by saying first and foremost: massacring an entire village, whether it’s mainly composed of criminals or not, is always wrong and unjustifiable. Period.
This is also the reason why Atem is so shocked when he finds out about it and why Akhenaden (and also his Pharaoh brother Akhenamkhanen) kept it a secret in the first place. Cause it’s bad. Period.
Now let’s go back to the narrative:
Forget everything you ever saw in the anime (both sub and dub) because Memory World/Season 5 just doesn’t make sense there - and most events were changed/removed from how they were in the manga to make the “good guys” appear better (to name a few examples: the soldiers sent by Akhenaden being somehow brainwashed to do the massacre, Diabound being sealed in some random hidden tablet underground and not coming directly from TKB’s soul, the golden duel disks you have to wear to summon the KAs instead of just using the Items, Thief King being the whole time possessed by Yami Bakura that in the anime is literally just Zorc so he doesn’t care abt his revenge, Atem saying a bunch of few more sympathetic lines he never said in canon, all if not most lines from TKB being completely removed, etc.) All these things don’t make sense if you follow the manga narrative and in fact, they don’t happen.
Akhenden does the massacre because in order to create the Millennium Items 99 human sacrifices were required. He could have chosen anyone. Volunteers, some form of “martyrs” ready to die to protect their Pharaoh, the fuck do I know... but what he did was a clear massacre aimed at a poor village “of thieves” that the palace people always despised because of their history:
Kul Elna.
Transcript:
Akhenaden: “Hear Me! We ride for the village of Kul Elna in the Valley of The Kings!”
Soldier 1: “Kul Elna Village...?! The place called the ‘‘Village of Thieves’’?”
Solder 2: “There’s nothing there but grave robbers! They were descended from the Royal tomb builders, but they went bad. Why are we going there...?”
The village of Kul Elna seems to be based on the real-life ancient city “Deir el-Medina” since it was a city of “grave robbers descended from Royal tomb builders”, just like Kul Elna.
It’s even mentioned in the wiki:
Here is an interesting article about grave robbers in Deir el-Medina, and it’s said that the city was literally called, like, “a city of robbers” for how organised and common it was for them to rob the royal graves in the Valley of the Kings. It was a city that has been originally created by the Royals to house the artisans and tomb builders that laboured for the Royals near the Valley of the Kings. It also makes sense (and it’s also written in the article) how these thieves knew best how to rob the tombs because they build them themselves.
Extracts from the article:
“Tomb Robbers were usually the very workers who constructed them were able to plan their thefts so as to bypass the main security features to gain access to the tomb itself.”
“...inflation and delay of rations made it extremely harder for the villagers to live, leaving them to rob the tombs they once built to keep themselves and their family alive.”
Akhenaden targeted that village on purpose. He specifically targeted Kul Elna BECAUSE THEY WERE GRAVE ROBBERS and it was convenient to kill them. They were “just grave robbers” and were thereby not loyal to the Pharaoh. If you think about the fact that robbing a Royal tomb used to be one of the biggest capital crimes back then, it also explains it. So Akhenaden’s thoughts on the matter were practically “killing two birds with one stone”.
In the anime the guards/soldiers were in someway “hypnotised” to follow Akhenaden’s order which is bullshit and how the hell can he perform such magic all of a sudden duh? . In the manga they enjoyed doing the massacre completely lucid:
Transcript:
Soldier: “Heh heh... you thieves... As punishment for robbing graves... you bastards will become a part of the treasure!”
99 people were sacrificed and used in the ritual (as seen above in the panel: they’ve been melted with gold), but many more were killed and left to die.
As you can see, bodies were left to rot among the ruins, even if they weren’t used for the sacrifice. Akhenaden made sure to exterminate any living proof of the village - also to keep it a secret and let it be forgotten in history.
But one kid survived:
Bakura.
Whether it’s cause he hid well, or maybe his mother made sure that he was well protected, or maybe he happened to have been in the right place at the right time - we don’t know. But destiny wanted him to be alive. To live and tell the tale and to finally take his well-deserved revenge.
Everyone else but him died. Other kids, just like him, died too. How in the world were they all “just evil”???How could an innocent kid like him even be evil, to begin with??? And Bakura is the only character through the whole story that speaks out about it:
Transcript: “Out of lust for power, your Royal Family used Shadow Alchemy to create the seven Millennium Items! There was only a small price... the lives of every man, woman and child in this village!”
Transcript: “That’s what I want! To get revenge for the dark past you tried to hide... the birth of the Millennium Items!!”
Transcript: “‘‘Freedom? Peace?’’ Don’t make me laugh... The Millennium Items are made of good and evil... they’re like a double-edged sword.”
Of course, he believes in the good of the items as well, considering they are literally made out of his innocent people.
Through his whole journey, he grew stronger and he informed himself. He knew what he was talking about. And they removed EVERYTHING he says in the manga from the anime because....... honestly I don’t know why ?? but I believe it’s cause he just slapped too hard with his statements and would have made everyone understand that the villain of the story turns out to be the actual victim of the situation.
But ig that’s too deep for Konami standards ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Transcript: “The rich and powerful love to talk about “justice!” The right to punish those you fear... to kill those you hate... and call it execution, not murder! Is that really justice? Or is it evil? What you really fear is your enemy’s idea of justice!”
I say Bakura was right because there is nothing that can excuse such an atrocious act. There’s no justice in seeing the slaughter of everything you ever knew and all the people you ever loved for the sake of creating weapons used against people like that and just sit back and do nothing about it.
Bakura was alive for a reason. He stayed alive for a very long time. Even after his death as Thief King Bakura, his soul clung to stay alive as Yami Bakura, at the cost of fusing with a demon, for over 3000 years. And he made sure to give them hell. :))
#in conclusion HE WAS RIGHT#everyone shut up#bakura#thief king bakura#yami bakura#yugioh#yu gi oh#millennium world#ygo#ygo meta#ask#nekomarik#*#ziggy talks
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Kind like you (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞☁️
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: fluff/romance, smut, angst, comfort, friends to lovers
Warnings: kinda dense Jungkook, JK being a brat, slight Tsundere JK, Koo struggling to sort his shit, kind reader, Crush!Reader, soft smut, praising, groping, kissing, pool sex, aftercare, heart to heart convos, they talk about toys lol,
Summary: Jungkook dearly wants to be kind like you. He wants to be so sweet, and gentle, and soft like you’re with him all the time; yet all he does is tease and pick on you, it seems.
Jungkook isn’t kind.
He likes to portray himself as such, whenever it’s needed, but he’s unable to quite make this characteristic a part of himself truly. It’s not like he’s a bad person, not at all; he’s helpful, caring, and well mannered. But he’s mean, he finds it funny when he gets onto someone else’s nerves. It’s like playing a game for him; and he loves winning. He’s good at it; it’s natural for him.
Then there’s you. You’re even more awkward with strangers than he is (which says a lot), but you’re everything he wants to be. You’re so soft spoken, always seeming to know what exactly to say in any situation. You’re kind, always thinking about everyone around you before you think about yourself, typically asking everyone else’s opinion first before you make up your own. You don’t like it when people fight, you never get possessive over things like he does. It’s even the tiniest things to him that make you seem so goddamn angelic; like that one time he whined about the fact that you got the last pack of butter cookies, immediately taking one for yourself to stuff between those soft looking lips, before shyly giving him the rest of the pack- still almost full. He had taken them without thanking you. He thinks about these moments a lot. He wants to treat you like Jimin does whenever you two interact. He’s so sweet with you, easily complimenting you and making you blush with his words, always playfully holding you close without ever making you uncomfortable. It’s weird to Jungkook how much that pisses him off the most. Whenever he’s alone in a room with you, you look uncomfortable- but when it’s Jimin, or Taehyung, you seem at ease. You joke around, and hug them like it’s second nature, while at the same time, you can’t look him into his eyes at any point of time.
He hates it.
He’s talked to Yoongi about it, after he’s seen you leave his studio one day. He knows you sing, he’s heard your voice, has saved every single cover song you’ve made on his phone to listen to them whenever he needs to just shut off his mind and think about nothing. He wants to do a duet with him, yet he knows he won’t be able to ever publish it because of his position in the industry. It frustrates him, yet he would be happy just singing with you for fun- he doesn’t need to publish it, he doesn’t need anyone else’s opinion on it; but he can’t ask you, it doesn’t matter how hard he tries. He can’t get the words out, even teased you for your voice before.
“You sound like a kid!”
He wants to take it back so desperately, but now, weeks after that comment, it would be weird wouldn’t it? It would just make him look like the fool he knows he is. So now he’s sitting in Yoongis studio, listening to your voice by second hand of you will, having been too unsure to come inside while you were recording. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. “She sounds great, no? Really like the slight tilts she has here..” Yoongi murmurs, placing the visual pointer of his mouse on the spot he’s talking about. He’s right, and Jungkook wants to say that, but he simply shrugs. “You don’t like it?” He asks, and Jungkook again, simply lifts his shoulders.
“Not my style, I guess.”
But Yoongi sees past that attitude as he raises his eyebrow questioningly. “Since when? You sing the same kind of songs all the time too.” He says, and Jungkook just chews on the inside of his lip. “You feeling competition?” Yoongi teasingly asks, and Jungkook scoffs.
“I’ve been trained for years, she’s a simple YouTuber. There’s no reason for me to feel competitive.”
But Yoongi suddenly laughs, burying his face in his hand as he stops the song. “Do you have a crush on her or something? You’re acting weird as hell Jungkook.” He says, and looks at Jungkook, who seems like he doesn’t react- only the tips of his ears grow red, as Yoongi laughs again, breathlessly as usual. “Oh my god you do! Little Jungkookie’s got the hots, I can’t believe it!” He barks out, and Jungkook whines.
“I don’t!” He says. “I absolutely don’t. She’s way too shy, and she’s so girly and all..” he complains, but Yoongi continues to smile. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing. Topic change then.” He says, and Jungkook nods. “Why were you and Taehyung fighting yesterday? Heard you’ve got him quite bad with a pillow.” He asks, and Jungkook groans.
“You said we’re changing the topic!” He says loudly, and Yoongi seems to have the time of his life.
“I am! How should I know the fight was about her?” He asks, and Jungkook kicks his legs with frustration.
“It wasn’t!” He said, and Yoongi raises his eyebrow, resting his head on his hand.
“Why are you getting so defensive then?” He asks.
“Because he shouldn’t send her a topless picture of him like that.” He says.
“I thought it wasn’t about her?” He chuckles.
“Fuck you.” Jungkook retorts, and it’s where Yoongi draws the line.
“Hey hey, calm down yeah? Didn’t mean to poke too much.” He says, and Jungkook nods, apologizing under his breath. “I thought you didn’t like her?” He asks, and Jungkook shrugs again.
“Never said that. But she’s so awkward around me.” He says, now a bit more defeated.
“Ever tried being nice to her?” Yoongi asks, while he continues working on the track to take some pressure off the maknae.
“I don’t know..!” He whines and throws his head back. “In my mind it’s so easy; go up to her, say hello, maybe tell her she looks nice, done!” He exclaims. “And then I say hello and screw it up by making a joke on her account and boom, congrats, fucked it up again.” Jungkook sighes, and The rapper doesn’t say something for a moment until he responds.
“You’re just not like that, I guess.” He explains to the younger one. “But you could try to tone it down a bit. Some of the things you say are actually quite mean.” He scolds gently, and Jungkook nods.
“I don’t know how to do that though.” He says.
“Wrap your compliments up in you remarks.”
“How?” The younger one asks.
“Well, you can’t say she looks nice, right?” The older one asks, and Jungkook nods. “But you always call her shortie.” Again, a nod. “Tell her she looks like a doll.”
“But isn’t that mean too?” He asks, and Yoongi snaps his fingers.
“It’s one of those comments that makes you think. Is it an insult? A compliment? You don’t have to go all in. Tease her in a way that can be taken positively as well. She’s smart enough to get innuendos like that.” He explains, and Jungkook seems to understand as he nods.
Maybe he’ll try that next time.
The next time you’re visiting them, Jungkook is as ready as he’ll ever be to make things count. As you take off your shoes, and hang up your red jacket, he snickers, as he walks by. “What’s up red riding hood?” He says, and he can hear Jimin chuckle from the couch as you follow him into the living room. “She looks like a Disney character with that bag and the jacket.” He says teasingly, and to his own surprise, he can see the edges of your lips move upwards into a shy smile, because he remembers vividly how you'd once told Jimin how much you liked the old classic disney films instead of the new ones.
It’s working, and it’s making him feel daring. Jimin retorts something along the lines of if he’s the wolf in that case and if he would eat her, and he finds his head suddenly on your shoulder, gently reaching over your now seated form on the couch to steal a dumpling from Jimin as he speaks.
“Nah, I’d only eat the ugly ones.” And this time, you’re actually giggling.
It makes his skin tingle.
And the night goes on like that, his typical picking covered in icing sugar, as he watches you become restless on your spot on the couch across from him. He grows addicted to the view, of that sight of your teeth digging into your lip as you grow giddy under his hidden compliments, and Jimin seems to catch up on it pretty quickly. He watches in fascination, as Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, and Jungkook himself feels a pull on his heart when he states that he's slightly (very) upset that you're leaving so early, even though it's almost one in the morning and he typically never even so much as waves you goodbye whenever you leave.
He doesn't mind the slight bullying from his hyungs after he'd waved after your leaving form before you dissappear from his sight.
Jungkook isn't kind.
He likes to portray himself as such, whenever it’s needed, but he’s unable to quite make this characteristic a part of himself truly. It’s not like he’s a bad person, not at all; it's just that he can't help himself when it comes to you. He's quite the sadist really, always bathing in the slight pout and amusing anger radiating off of you whenever he does something to rile you up. It's just like now; even though he knows you hate it, he loves to take advantage of the difference in height between the two of you. He laughes while holding his bowl of cereal while you struggle on the very tips of your toes in the kitchen, trying to reach the pack of sweet breakfast treats that he had placed way higher than necessary.
But it's when you climb onto the counter that several things happen.
First, it's the unintended panty-shot he gets, his pupils practically zooming in on the soft pink fabric on display for his greedy self, making him feel like a schoolboy that just sneaked a glimpse of a naughty magazine his friend had brought into class. It makes his mind fill with images of you, oh-so sweetly laying underneath his form as he pulls the cotton fabric to the side, ready and wanting as you patiently wait for him to connect your souls and bodies in the most intimate of ways.
The other thing however wipes away those images, as his doe eyes widen. It's the realization that you're wearing pink fuzzy socks, on a marbled kitchen counter, the danger of slipping as high as it can be. He knows you're clumsy, knows you're always attracting trouble wherever you go, and it's the small moment of your knee bending, your foot a breath too far off the counter, as you suddenly loose balance. He practically throws his almost empty bowl on the kitchen table before he reaches you, luckily managing to make you fall ontop of him than the cold kitchen tiles below.
At first, it's awfully quiet- there is no one here other than him and you after all. Then, the pain hits him, drumming like the beat of his favorite song, making him drop his head on the floor with a groan. You immediately move at that, getting off of him as you look for anthing that could be the cause. It's when he holds his hand, red seeping through between his fingers that you move. Grabbing kitchen towels for first aid, you help him as best as you can, as he watches you, pain already not so bad anymore as he looks at your delicate hands working on his larger ones with so much care.
He's ready to use it to his fun, yet he stops himself when he sees the tears on our cheeks. "Why're you crying?" He asks, and you suddenly sob more loudly, sniffling as you continue to try and clean his scrape on the back of his palm with running water. He shuts the water off, his hand not even bleeding that much anyways anymore, as he holds your shoulders, body folding over a bit to properly look at you. "Hey hey, why're you crying? I'm hurt here!" He chuckles, but it doesn't seem to do much good- as you just continue.
He suddenly grows more gentle, the hug a bit awkward at first, the close proximity weird for you both, but once he starts to softly rock you both from side to side, his unhurt hand running over your back before he sloppily wipes your tears off of your face- intentionally messily to make you giggle and push his hands off. "You're such a crybaby!" He laughs, as you hold his hand in yours, looking at it again.
"Does it hurt?" You ask, looking up at him, and he swallows hardly as he suddenly grows uneasy with the closeness of you two.
"No, it's just a scratch." He says, suddenly cleaning up the kitchen table where he spilled some of his leftover cereal and milk- simply using it as something to distract himself to calm down. "Why were you even climbing there at all? That's dangerous as hell." He said. "You could've just asked me to get it for you." He ends, and its the most truthful thing he's ever said to you.
Because that's where his deepest intentions with you were hiding. He's so used to being the youngest, of getting away with so much and getting babied by everyone around him, staff or his members, that he craves to take care of someone instead for once. He wants you to ask him for help. He wants you to hide behind his back when you're terrified of Taehuyungs tickle-attacks, he wants you to loose to him when playing video games, just so he can pull you onto his lap, his hands over yours on the controller to show you how its done. He wants you to proudly tell him of any achievement you manage to make no matter how small, just to gain his praise.
He needs you to need him.
Because whenever he's with you, he knows that those compliments and that pure amazement on your face is not because you want something in return, it's simply what it is. You make him feel so appreciated, so desired, so wanted for himself and not for his outside qualities. Because at the same time he loves how passionate you get whenever you notice that you know something better than him- how excited you get when you explain something to namjoon or to Hobi. He want's you to teach him things too, he want's to know what you can do, what you're better at, not because he want's to get better than you, but because he knows you're so much smarter in so many things than he is.
It's your voice that gets him out of his internal terror.
"Oh.. I didn't want to bother you though." You meekly say, and he wants to groan at this, to throw a fit, to be frustrated with you because that's exactly what you never ever do; you could never bother him to the point where he would refuse to help. No, he wants you to bother him. "I-what?" You say, and he suddenly turns around abruptly.
"What?" He asks, terrified if what he thinks just happened really did.
"You said 'But I want you to bother me'..?" You ask, and he wants to slap himself.
"I- I mean, I meant it in like, you can bother me, it doesn't matter much, you know?" He scrambles out, drying his hands after washing his bowl and leaving it in the sink. He suddenly grows uneasy with you in the room, yet he stills at your next words as if frozen in time.
"Oh.. I-" You start, before you step closer. "Thank you then, Jungkookie. I appreciate it." But its not only that, it's the tiny sentence you say and the action that follows that simply fries his mind. "You're not so bad after all." And you place a small kiss against his cheek.
You kiss his cheek.
Your soft lips touched his skin.
And he stands there for a while longer, not knowing what to do.
Jungkook isn't kind.
But over the course of days where you start to grow more and more comfortable, more daring, and more used to understand his language, he slowly mutates into an overgrown puppy.
He demands your attention, loves the way you blush under his teasing, and craves the way you squirm around whenever he's close to you. He's almost certain he's got a chance with you, making his own creativity thrive under your spell. He takes more photos than ever before, starts to be even more active (after you'd accidentally let it slip that you actually like how strong he is and that it makes you feel safe), and all in all simply falls for you.
But its all gone to waste at a certain dinner with his hyungs, that his food suddenly tastes stale, and his appetite is gone. "I want to confess to her, you know? I think I really got a chance." Jimin says, and Yoongi glances at Jungkook, concerned for the youngest since he knows his secret crush. "I mean she even gets along with the brat here!" He playfully says, playfully hitting Jungkooks shoulder lightly, but he doesn't seem an innocent gesture in it. No, Jungkook is riled up, and suddenly stands at the table, taking his cutlery and dishes to discard them in the sink. "Jungkook?" Jimin asks, confused, but Yoongi shakes his head with a sigh after the youngest simply retreated into his room for an early night.
"Jimin, I don't think that's a good idea." Yoongi says, and Namjoon seems confused. "I don't intend to be rude, but your interest changes weekly. Now it's her, the next week its someone else. Jungkook however-" He calmly explains, ignoring the slightly offended look of the dancer across from him. "You know him. He's never shown interest before- in anyone." Jimin slowly seems to understand, as Taehyung nods at it. "He really likes her. Think about it. Once you take that step, there's no going back. There's no 'lets stay friends if we break up' because that's just awkward. There's no second chance for Jungkook."
Jimin slowly nods, suddenly without much taste for his food as well. "I didn't know, honestly."
"It was kind of hard to see not gonna lie." Hoseok chimes in, putting his chopsticks down as he swallows the last bite of food. "He's all over her recently." He explains, and everyone nods.
This wasn't just a simple crush for him.
This was full blown love.
Jungkook isn't kind.
But he also can't say no to you.
He wants to be mad, he really tried to as well. But it's just- he sees your smile and hears your voice, and he's all in your hands, ready and willing to your very command. That's how he finds himself at your tiny apartment, helping you to put up some of your latest paintings on your walls- because initially you'd asked if he or his hyungs had a ladder in his dorm, but after you'd told him you'd use it to climb up to hang some paintings, he'd instead told you he'd help you instead, just to make sure you wouldn't fall and have an accident or something.
He want's to be mad, because he knows Jimin must've made his move at this point.
You seem so at ease, so happy, your steps so light and almost jumpy he wants to cry internally at how cute you are, for someone that isn't him.
"Ah, yes, that's perfect!" You say, and he slowly steps down from your chair he'd burrowed to boost his height a little, your hands weakly trying to steady him while he finally reaches the floor again. "I've made some cold stew yesterday, do you wanna stay and eat a little?" You ask, and he wants to nod, but doesn't.
"I don't wanna intrude or something." He says, grimply smiling as he brings the chair back into the kitchen area where it came from. He hates how deflated you suddenly look, how almost sad you simply nod as you trail after him like a lost pet, something many would find bothering, yet he loved it. He loved how you were always around him like a little shadow, as if to silently stay close to him. "So, you and uhm.. Jimin?" He asks suddenly, unable to keep the words inside.You blink, once, twice, before tilting your head in question. "He.. hasn't talked to you?" He asked, and you shook your head.
"No, what would he want to talk about with me?" You ask, and a very terrifying thought comes into his mind, like a tiny devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear. He hasn't made his move yet, so if he plays his cards right, he could still steal you from him quick and swift. You'd be his, he knows you're too kind to say no if he confessed, and Jimin would stand no chance. But just like the tiny devil, a tiny angel was there as well. Who was he to interfere with someone else's romantic life? He knew Jimin liked you enough to ask you out, and even though his hyung was never one to stay long, it would be an absolute dick move of him to ruin his chances.
But he loved you.
"Oh, you mean about you and me!" You suddenly said, and Jungkook almost choked on his saliva. "He said something about you liking me, and uh, that I should confess to you even though I know you're not interested in me like that- I'm sorry if he said something weird, it's just a weird crush, I'll get over it-" But he short-circuits, and blurts out what comes to his mind before he can think about it.
"Don't!" He says, a little too loud, and your eyes grow wide. "Don't.. get over it. I-" He's suddenly confused, overwhelmed, and has no idea how to handle this sudden turn of events properly. Should he kiss you now like in the movies or something? But he should also ask if he should, otherwise its without consent, but it would kind of ruin the moment, and oh god why do his hands suddenly get sweaty, thats so gross-
It's the shy and delicate touch to the very tips of his fingers, hand splaid out on the kitchen table that you're touching with yours, cheeks red and eyes down, and he suddenly thinks, 'fuck those movies', as he leans in and kisses you, slowly, just to make sure you're okay with it.
You're so okay with it.
He grows hungry at the movement of your lips, brows furrowing as he lets himself ride this wave of pure euphoria, holding your cheeks so lightly that you barely feel his touch at all. You snake your arms around his head as you tug him down a bit more, and his neck aches, so he simply reaches for your behind to help you up on the kitchen table for better leverage. "You're-" He starts between kisses, and can't help his smile. "-mine." He ends, and you nod with excitement, just as high on happiness as he is. "Can I, like-" He starts, almost frustrated with how he can't stop his lips from chasing yours even if he's the one talking. "-Touch you?" He finally gets out, and again, you nod, even if the tips of your ears grow a bit red at the suggestive question. His hands suddenly wander, over your shoulders down your sides, before they find your thighs. He loves the softness of them, his fingers on your knees as he opens your legs so he can get even closer to you. As if on instinct, your socked feet pull him towards you, and he chuckles at that, finally slipping his tongue between your lips as you push a hand into his dark hair, making him groan. He cups the sides of your breasts at first, delicately feeling them, before he squeezes gently, getting a proper idea of their plushness under his fingers.
He loves them already.
"I don't-" He starts, and is breathless just as you are as he places his kisses on the side of your neck. "I don't wanna fuck you on the kitchen table baby." He finally gets out, and you mewl at that. "Hm?" He asks, but you shake your head, too shy to say anything to that. He suddenly reaches for your behind, lifting you against his chest as he walks around with you, making you and himself laugh as he opens the wrong door before he finally finds your bedroom- cozy and cold due to the open window you always leave so that you can sleep better at night. You sigh at the cool feeling of the sheets underneath your hot body, and he grins down at you as he can't feel anything but pure ecstasy. Suddenly, he laughs, and groans lodly against your chest as he lets his forehead rest against it.
"What?" You ask between a laugh, and he begins to whine.
"I don't have a condom, fuck." He drawls out, and he really feels like an idiot. He's a fully grown man, he should have shit like that with him at all times, especially when he knows he's gonna visit his crush- but its so sudden, so unprepared, that he simply didn't think this would ever happen. He's deflated, painfully hard, and frustrated with himself, as you speak up again.
"Uhm, theres an orange handbag in the bathroom, its like, next to the shower. I think I still have one in there."You say, and he looks up questioningly. "It was a joke-present from a friend, please don't ask." You say, growing shy again as he simply chuckles, before getting up and searching for the bag you mentioned. It's safe to say that he doesn't only find the condom, but also a still fully packaged vibrator toy, in the same bag. His interest is definetely woken, but he decides against using it to tease you this time.
He'd get his chance soon.
But in that moment, as he climbs ontop of the bed again, it's all about you and him- its not about mindblowing sex or unusual experiences. He just wants to be inside you, close to you, he wants to claim you in ways that only lovers can. He's surprised, when he takes off his shirt, that you suddenly hold your arms high.
You're absolutely adorable in his eyes.
He chuckles as he helps you out of your sweater, kissing your nose, your cheeks, your lips, as he unhooks your bra to finally get a skin to skin feel of your breasts. He loves it even more like this, warm and soft under his palms, and you mewl in enjoyment as he continues his antics. He doesn't even notice when you'd discarded your shorts and underwear, his pants gone in a flash as his inked fingers reach between your legs to sloppily prepare you for him.
He knows he's a bit more on the.. bigger side, to say the least, a grower more than a shower, and it used to make him nervous in a weird kind of way. You're so delicate, so sweet, that he doesn't want to hurt you, and hes slow and steady as he finally enters you after putting on his protection. But you take it, you're such a champ, and pull him towards you by his neck as he moves slowly.
He picks up his pace at your demand, lost in euphoria as he lets himself go, lets himself enjoy as his mind is filled with your voice, your sounds, your scent, your everything. This is what he wanted, this is where he wants to stay for the rest of time. Not nescessarly buried withing you (although that's not a bad sound he thinks), but in your embrace, within your presence. He want's to stay at your side forever, keep you close to him so no one can hurt you, not even yourself.
He comes with a whine, an arch of his back, and his fingers on your pearl, desperate to get you over the edge as well.
It works.
And he's happy, exhausted, and absolutely in love as he falls down the mattress at your side.
"I always thought it would be weird." You said after you'd both taken a shower and cleaned up properly. He'd texted his hyungs, telling them with obnoxious emoticons that he's spending the night with his girlfriend, and Jimin plus Yoongi had reacted with a vomiting emoji.
Yet they were happy.
"What would be weird?" Jungkook asks, his hand running up and down your arm as you laid next to him, snuggled up onto his body.
"You know, having sex." You said, and it takes a moment before he suddenly snaps his head to you.
"Wait, that was your first time?!" He exclaimed, utterly shocked at it as he'd been convinced you weren't a virgin. You have had boyfriends before, he knew that, hell, he'd seen them too, and considering you were pretty close agewise he couldn't imagine. He feels bad about it, if he'd known, he would've made it more special, hell he would've asked you more times if you were okay with him taking something so precious from you. Now you could never get it back and he'd fucked it up.
"I mean, kind of?" You explained, suddenly hiding your face. "I mean, I've done, like, stuff with men before.. and I also used a.. you know, 'thing', but like, never the real.." You tried to come up with different names for the things you wanted to say, yet you simply ceased to talk.
Jungkook chuckled. "You used what? A dildo? Like, a fake dick?" He said, and you hit his chest with a whine, utterly mortified by his way of talking. "Come on I saw that vibrator in your bag there, but I never though you were a virgin!" He said, and you whined again.
"Technically I wasn't!"
He scoffed playfully. "Baby your first time was with a toy considering what you just told me, that STILL means you were a virgin!" He argued, and you groaned, trying to get out of his grasp now. "Come on, at least tell me if my dick was better than that rubber-cock?" He asked, and laughed full on at the way you hid your face behind your hands with a yell. "Don't hurt my ego, say it!" He laughs, and tickles your sides.
"Yeah yeah okay, your dick was better stop!" You laugh, and he grins, suddenly pulling you close to him as he hides his face in your hair.
"Oh baby-" He sighes out. "I love you so much."
"And I hate you." You mumble, before he playfully bites your ear.
"Jungkook no, they could see-!" Yet he doesn't let up, uncaring. The hotel they were staying at had a strict privacy policy- at this point his agency could ruin
them with a snap of their fingers just because they leaked a single strand of his hair. He wasn't concerned at all, as he continued to bite and kiss at your neck,
unable to keep his hands to himself as he grows hard.
He loves the high he gets from being in danger of getting caught.
Its silly, in a way, but it feels like a rush of some sorts. It's like he's a teenager again, sneaking in candy even though he's on a diet just to feel bratty, and its not
much different now, even though the scale is another. This was actually dangerous, but since no one else was staying at the hotel, and his hyungs had all gone
to bed, he refused to give in.
He wanted you, and he would take you.
Jungkook never liked sharing, nor giving away what was his when he himself didn't openly give it away. What was his, was his, there was no room for
discussion, even though he'd become a bit more understanding nowadays. Yet he would never let anyone see you like this, so vulnerable and wanting for him,
ready to become his slave to quench his thirst for you at anytime. You loved him just as much as he loved you, and this exchange of feelings always got him
riled up to the point of desperation.
Just like now, as he helps you stay afloat with his forearms underneath your own arms, kissing you silly while he pushes his thigh upwards underwater, feeling
you rut agains it like an animal in heat. He loved how you got whenever he pushed your buttons right, loved the sight, the sound, the entire situation. It ruined
porn for him in a way, modern erotica in no way reaching the level of satisfactory aesthetic that the sight of you could bring him. He'd taken pictures and videos
of you in nude positions and explicit situations to keep him entertained whenever he was far away, because whatever he found online of strangers couldn't bring
him a release worth working for anymore.
So it was utterly welcomed by him, when you had surprisingly told him that you had arranged to share the hotel room with him, and that you were tagging along for two weeks of his tour. Of course, his happiness was mostly simple enjoyment that you were there at his side, that you would sleep right next to him, yet it also was of a more carnal side of himself. And now, while his blood was still hot like lava inside his veins, adrenalin still high from his last concert, he was desperate to let go, end this day in a way he never thought he properly could.
He sloppily pushed the barrier between himself and your core to the side underwater, pulling his length out of his swimtrunks as well, uncaring on making it romantic. He knew he didn't need to always go overboard, he was clingy and touchy enough that you always felt appreciated and loved, even if he was impatient like that. He groaned out, mixed with a chuckle as he suddenly realized what he was doing, dipping his head down into the crook of your neck to bite and leave open mouthed kisses, rhythm just as steady and on-point as onstage just hours ago.
He came quicker than he'd liked, tattooed hand gently pushing you over the edge as well. you whined as he helped you out the pool, utterly mortified but still happy at the way he simply picked you up bridal style, carrying you out and back into your room, ready for a good nights' sleep.
The best he had ever gotten while on tour.
(c)Bonny-Kookoo. All rights reserved. Thank you for reading.
#bts imagine#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts smut#jungkook imagine#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts reactions
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If somebody had ever told Mickey that, one day, he'd be chilling at the beach with two girls, one a whiny toddler, the other one a whiny tween, he wouldn't have believed them.
Especially if one happened to be his daughter and the other one his niece.
Franny was sitting cross-legged on one of the towels, earbuds stuck deep into her ears, some heavy-metal shit busting through her skull, loud enough for the entire beach to hear.
She was being prissy the whole day, the puberty thing hitting her like a truck, destroying the sweet, innocent Franny and leaving a monster in its wake.
A very temperamental monster that Mickey had offered to take off of Debbie's hands as a favor to Sandy who was planning on using up the day for sex Mickey did not need to know about. She had spewed some shit about her and Debbie not spending enough time together due to the—as she so nicely put it—needy brat, and, Franny actually likes you Mickey, please!.
And well, he actually liked Franny too, so he said yes.
It would've been a great day at the beach, it really would have, had Franny not said upon seeing Ian getting ready to go with them, "Uh, no, just me and uncle Mick."
Ian had given Franny the most surprised/slightly-wounded look and simply nodded.
But then he turned to Mickey and thrust the sleepy baby he had been holding into his hands, saying, with a slightly indigent look, "Father-daughter day too, yeah? Wanna grab some beers with my brothers."
And with a begrudging glare sent towards Ian, followed by the same Ian smiling and pressing a kiss to both Mickey's and their daughter's head, Mickey was off with two girls to the loud, obnoxious beach where he would be playing caretaker all day.
Mickey also didn't miss the daggers Franny was shooting towards them all, a scowl etched on her face.
Alas, they were at the fucking beach.
His little girl was bouncing on his knee as he shook the car keys in front of her, tiny hands reaching out to grasp them like a kitten. Mickey was smiling softly as he watched his daughter purse her tiny lips in concentration and try and catch the jingling metal that Mickey was pulling out of her reach each time she got too close.
A small red baseball hat was perched up on her head, and they were in the shade, making sure the one-year-old wasn't in the Sun's way at any given moment.
"Come on, baby," Mickey cooed in a voice he had never, in his life, imagined he would use. "You're a Milkovich, you can do it."
The little girl giggled and then with a newfound determination, lunged for the keys, tearing them out of her dad's grip.
She looked up at him expectantly.
Mickey raised his hand in a high-five and bounced their hands softly together, noting how tiny hers looked compared to his. "Good job girl, making dad proud."
He sported a wide smile on his face as he watched his daughter play with the keys, seemingly forgetting about him altogether.
Mickey was, in fact, so lost in thought of how fucking lucky he was—with Ian, his kid, his family—that he didn't even notice Franny huffing, tearing the earbuds out of her ears violently, getting up from where she was sitting, and stomping away.
When he did though, he was not too happy about having to get up and chase a hormonal teenager down the beach with a baby in his hands.
But, alas, he did.
"Franny!" He said once he was close enough, the toddler in his hands making whimpering sounds as she chewed on the keys.
He moved them away from her mouth once he noticed, sending her a warning glare, muttering slowly so she would understand, "Eating keys is a no-no."
She simply blinked.
She was so fucking cute.
"Ugh!" Mickey snapped his head towards Franny who was grasping strands of her long, red hair in her hands, tugging at them in exasperation. "This is what I'm talking about! This!"
Mickey had no fucking clue what was going on. In fact, all he wanted was for Ian to be there alongside him, guiding Mickey through this like he did through a lot of things. He would know what the fuck was going on in the first place.
He wondered if his own little girl would end up blowing up on him some day over something on a public beach with a bunch of people staring.
He hoped so—it'd make him proud.
He turned his attention back to his niece.
"Franny, look, I have no clue what you're so pissy about."
She snorted, eyes rolling. "Of course you don't. If you weren't staring at that goddamn baby every two seconds maybe you would notice!"
Staring at that goddamn baby? He shot Franny a look. "You mean my kid?"
She screamed, making Mickey cringe, "Ugh!"—right before stomping away back to their towels.
Mickey watched his niece go, lips parted.
What the fuck just happened?
---
The car ride back home was spent in silence.
In fact, the entire day had been spent in silence, the only thing filling the void being the chatter from the beach and the toddler's giggles.
When Mickey dropped Franny off back at the Gallagher house, she shut the door with all the strength Mickey didn't know she possessed, making the car shudder, and subsequently making the little girl in the back whimper in what was the beginning of a cry.
Needless to say, the day had gone to shit.
He drove back home in what should have been silence, but was instead the wailing of a Milkovich baby.
She calmed down by the time they were at the door to their home.
Fuck, Mickey was fucking exhausted.
As soon as the two came into Ian's view—the same Ian who was sipping on a lemonade with a gay-ass straw—his face split into a wide grin. He grabbed their daughter from Mickey's arms, hugging her close.
"Hello my little tomato." He kissed the top of her tiny head, making her smile and laugh.
He then glanced at Mickey, a sly smirk replacing the sweet smile.
"Hello my big tomato."
Mickey rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled in towards his husband, careful not to squish their child. They kissed slowly, Mickey forgetting the turmoils of the day and Franny's outburst.
Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, Mickey felt tiny arms pushing his face, making him pull away from Ian.
He glanced down at the pouting, angry child. Her cheeks were chubbier than usual, eyes squinting as she tried to pry her dads apart.
Mickey stared. "What's she doing?"
In response, Ian chuckled and replied, again kissing her cheeks, "Somebody's jealous, aren't you, little one?"
And that was when it clicked.
Franny. Her outburst. The way she glared at Ian. The way she glared at their baby girl.
Franny was jealous.
She was fucking jealous.
"Hey man, you alright?"
Mickey sighed, meeting Ian's eyes. The baby was falling asleep in his arms.
"I gotta go do something real quick, I'll be back."
Ian's brows furrowed. "What is that something, exactly?"
Just as Mickey grabbed his keys again, pressing a kiss to Ian's cheek, he said, "I need to apologize to Franny," Then he headed back towards the Gallagher house where she was probably still seething.
---
When Franny saw Mickey at the door of her room, she shut the door in his face.
"Oh, come on, kid!" He knocked again, feeling slightly irritated. "Open the fuck up!"
The door shimmied open slowly, a frowning Franny appearing before him. As soon as she let go of the knob, she crossed her arms indignantly across her chest, staring Mickey down.
Mickey took notice of the RED-HEAD tattooed across her knuckles with a red sharpie, an imitation of Mickey's tats. He smiled at them, seeing how she must've done it as soon as she came back home.
"I like them," He pointed at her hands making her twist the hand with the HEAD on it, inspecting it.
She didn't reply.
Mickey sighed, crossing his own arms. And before he knew he was doing it, he said, "I'm sorry."
Franny raised an eyebrow.
"For not spending the day with you like you deserved." He continued.
Franny scoffed, the first animate thing she did since he arrived. "You mean for staring at that tiny monster the entire time?"
Yup, Mickey thought, jealous.
"Cute tiny monster," He corrected making her scowl deepen and fists visibly clench. Then he quickly added, "Yeah, I'm sorry."
Franny gnawed in her lip for a few moments before letting out a loud sigh. She eyed Mickey once, from head to toe, before relenting.
"Fine," The redhead huffed. "But you're taking me out tomorrow. No Ian, no baby, just you and me, uncle-niece bonding time."
Mickey smiled at the girl, so little, yet so grown up, and he wondered how he truly wanted his own daughter to grow up to be like Franny, taking nobody's shit.
"Deal," He extended his hand for her to shake, which she took. The girl had a firm grasp. "I'll take you on a proper date, my lady. Dinner at McDonald's and paintball so we can shoot some shit. That good?"
Franny smiled widely, remanding Mickey so much of Ian, running towards him swiftly, and wrapping her arms around his torso.
"I love you uncle Mickey," She murmured against his shirt, the sound muffled.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her orange head.
"Love you too, baby carrots."
He really did.
#gallavich#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian and mickey#shameless#shameless us#fanfic#fic rec#ian x mickey#Franny gallagher#post series finale#parents ian and mickey#btw#wrote the beginning of this this morning went to the beach had such bad cramps had my dad drive me back home wrote the rest of this is pain#(:#*ficlet
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Follower Recs
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Hello Mojo, hope you're doing well and that you had a good break! I wanted to signal boost the MDZS May Diaspora event collection on AO3, and point out my favorite fic from there: 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG! It's both tender and bittersweet and it features such mature writing. The author got some hate for it when it initially got posted so I wanted to counter that and give it some love instead! [Who would do such a thing?! @dragongirlg-fics I’m sorry that happened to you, and here, have *so many hugs!* I’ll try to do a thing just for the diaspora event, but meanwhile, I’ll just treat this as a follower rec.]
归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home
by dragongirlG (M, 8k, wangxian)
Summary: The destruction of the Yin Tiger Seal does not kill Wei Wuxian; it ages him instead. He takes shelter in a cave expecting to die, but instead he lives, slowly learning to embrace life with each new day.
Thirteen years later, a young man with a Lan forehead ribbon stumbles into the cave. His name is Lan Sizhui.
~*~
Hi Momjo!!! I recently read the most *adorable* fic, and I loved it so much that it dragged me out of seclusion (read: social anxiety cave) to rec it. It's called 'Covered in Bees' by ScarlettStorm in which the Cloud Recesses is an apiary, and Wei Wuxian has suddenly found himself host to a swarm of bees. ~ @akyra-talanoa
Covered in Bees
by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, wangxian)
Summary: “Cloud Reccesses Apiary,” says a toneless, deep masculine voice, with zero question in it. Wei Ying doesn’t care, because whoever possesses that voice is probably going to come save him from bees like a fucking hero while wearing like, a suit of armor. That’s what you wear to catch bees, right?
“I have like, so many bees outside my front door right now,” he says, mouth running out ahead of him before he can even begin to think about reining it in. “It’s like a sandstorm of bees out there. There are so many bees. I got out of my car and there were just bees and I don’t want these bees. Do you want these bees? Please tell me you will come get these bees. I can’t leave my house and I have enough food for maybe a week but then I’m gonna have to learn how to cook dry beans and no one wants that, especially not me.” Wei Ying runs out of air, takes a breath, and belatedly adds, “My name is Wei Ying. Hi.”
Or: The beekeeping AU that no one asked for.
~*~
Hi, you are a bless to this fandom. Your blog feels like a library, so thoroughly arranged and always within hand reach. [Thank you, wow!] Recently, I was going through Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn is a Wēn tag and came across a fanfic, it has 3 chapters till now and is so intriguing that i thought to recommend it to you. I don't know if I can recommend or if you have already checked the story, The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon by Devipriya. I am in love with this story. I hope you will enjoy it too, do check it out
The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon
by Devipriya (T, 7k, wangxian)
Summary: Wen Wuxian, the essence of who he is, he is a naughty child, a prankster, an enchanting dizi player, a graceful dancer, an irresistible lover, a truly valiant warrior, a ruthless vanquisher of his foes, a man who left a broken heart in every home, an astute statesman and kingmaker, a thorough gentleman, a righteous individual of the highest order, and the most colorful incarnation.
He has been seen, perceived, understood and experienced in many different ways by different people. Different people saw different facets of who he is. For some, he is God. For some, he is a crook. For some, he is a lover. For some, he is a fighter. He is so many things.
But the phoenix, seen from the eyes of time was just a playful man. A man who plays with his awareness, with his imagination, with his memory, with his life, with his death. An individual who does not just dance with somebody. He dances with life. He dances with his enemy, He dances with the one he loves, He dances even at the moment of his death.
To taste an essence of who is Wen Wuxian, be with me in the journey of exploration, NO! playful exploration of life of a playful man.
~*~
Hi! Thanks for running this blog, it's helped me find so many fics. For your next follower recs post, I wanted to rec "This love like a flood, a fire, a fear" by natcat5. Its summary is vague (which I suspect is why it isn't better known) but it is a beautiful retelling of canon from LWJ's POV with slight canon divergence. I love the author's characterization of him and the prose is gorgeous. It is easily my favorite fic in the entire fandom, and I don't say that lightly. ~ @nyanja14
This love like a flood, a fire, a fear
by natcat5 (M, 57k, wangxian, lan wangji & lan xichen)
Summary: “I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.” - Lemony Snicket
~*~
i came to this ask to rec this baseball one called "Waiting for Spring" by thievinghippo on ao3. It somehow made me care about baseball soooo 'nough said ~ @scifikimmi
Waiting for Spring
by thievinghippo (E, 131, wangxian)
Summary: “It is a well-known fact across the major leagues that one does not smack Lan Wangji’s ass.”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Everyone smacks everyone’s ass in baseball. It’s how the game is played. Lan Wangji does not get to be exempt from this most sacred of baseball traditions.
Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.
Or, a Major League Baseball AU
~*~
hi mojo! i wanted to rec Something Good by boxoftheskyking (a loose sound of music/canon divergence au) and also MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (immortal wangxian modern au where they gotta solve a mystery and save china, featuring jiang cheng/lan xichen)
Something Good
by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, wangxian)
Summary: "That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power."
As a punishment for real and imagined crimes, Wei Wuxian is sentenced to work at Cloud Recesses as the lowest of servants. When a surprising reassignment lands him with eleven children to care for, everything changes again.
A Sound of Music AU
MDZS: The Golden Engine
by iffervescent (E, 82k, wangxian, xicheng)
Summary: In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.
~*~
Hi Mojo! First of all let me just tell you that you are amazing and this blog is like a gift from the gods! Bless you and your endless patience and hard work. [Oh, thank you so much!] I know that you have just accepted follower recs and I have missed miserably but I still wanted to write and bring attention to a writer by the pseudo Xiao_Hua on ao3, I think they are quite good and I just recently found the account with so much content. If you do have the time to check them out, I'd rec catfish, my fox or the red ribbon.
The Red Ribbon
by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, wangxian, TGCF crossover)
Summary: Wei WuXian died but not before saving HanGuang-Jun and A-Yuan, leaving so much more behind than just his ribbon.
My Fox
by Xiao_Hua (E, 13k, wangxian)
Summary: Once he headed to YiLing that all changed for him. His priorities have been mingled with and ordered in complete disarray even without him noticing as he was left heavily influenced by a creature.
Or one where Lan WangJi is a dragon-spirit and he finds his mate in the form of a fox.
Catfish
by Xiao_Hua (E, 15k, wangxian)
Summary: Wei WuXian has a common sense that believes it has a nine-to-five job while Lan WangJi finds that incredibly hot.
Or one where two catfish realise that neither of them truly catfished.
~*~
Hi Mojo i'm recommending this amazing fic it is called song of joys and regrets. it's a time travel AU it's amazing. And your Blog is a Godsend Thank you! [Aw, you’re so sweet!] ~ @highgoddess
Song of Joy and Regrets
by HelloKitten (not rated, 59k, wangxian, WIP)
Summary: The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.
Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.
"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..." "Do they all involve him being bait?" "Yes" came deadpanned responses.
~*~
Here’s a 2021 Reverse Big Bang entry, in time for Father’s Day; [Oops, my bad, sorry!] Under a Blanket of Black Wings, by ChaoticAndrogynous (#31398395); LWJ, recuperating from the 33 lashes, tells A-Yuan a series of fairytales about a heroic monster and the brave little boy he befriended. Vampire! WWX (in the framing story as well as the story-within-the-story); happy ending.
Under a Blanket of Black Wings
by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian)
Summary: Lan Wangji tells A-Yuan a bedtime story about a beautiful monster and the brave little boy who was his friend. Thirteen years later, the monster returns.
~*~
Hello Mojo! Have you read ‘Key Differences’ by Pupeez4eva? Its a MDZS!WWX meets CQL!WWX and its really good! [It’s on my list!]
Key Differences
by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian)
Summary: “I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, while his alternate self continued to stare at him with almost a look of hurt in his eyes. There was longing in there too, which Wei Wuxian would have easily recognised if he paid enough attention. “How could you not get together, after everything. What even went on in the Guanyin Temple if you didn’t confess?”
“The Guanyin Temple,” Wei Ying repeated incredulously. “You’re asking me if I confessed at — honestly, a lot went on that day. It was a life and death situation. There was no confessing.”
Wei Wuxian stared at him, appalled.
(Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this).
~*~
Hey Mojo i would recommend this fanfic if you already haven’t, it’s called “ take me back to a time “ by DizziDreams. It’s sooooo good
take me back to a time
by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, 3zun)
Summary: Wei Ying has a lot on his plate right now.
It’s finals week -- which isn’t so bad. He’s never had to study much to do well in classes. But that just means that things are that much more tense with Jiang Cheng, who, as far as Wei Ying can tell, only takes study breaks long enough to glare at Wei Ying where he sits on the couch playing video games.
It’s not studies that have Wei Ying stressed out. It’s everything else. It’s the recruitment for the research trial he’s coordinating. It’s jiejie and her impending marriage to His Royal Douchebag Jin Zixuan. It’s the volunteer work at the palliative care facility. It’s Wen Ning’s worsening condition. It’s Wen Qing working herself thin to care for her brother and Wen Yuan. It’s the way Wen Yuan never seems to have enough food.
So, yeah. There’s enough on Wei Ying’s plate already, meaning it’s not entirely welcome when he comes home and finds a man standing in his bedroom. A man in extravagant white robes, a ribbon tied around his forehead, long hair gathered into a topknot, fist clutching a sword at his side, who asks him, “Where am I?”
~*~
Idk if this has already been rec’d (I’ve been off the grid for a while now), but there’s this absolutely incredible fic called Restitution by an anon on ao3 people should definitely check out!
this one?
on restitution
by Anonymous (M, 78k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian, lan sizhui & wei wuxian, WIP)
Summary: When Wei Wuxian regains consciousness, he is in a bed. A real, proper bed, not the slab he called a bed in his cave in the Burial Mounds.
Jiang Cheng is glowering above him.
Wei Wuxian doesn't die during the siege of the Burial Mounds. Rather, he is captured in secret and confined at Lotus Pier. Things change accordingly.
~*~
Hi momjo! I feel like every time I come to your blog there's twenty more new and amazing fics for me to read. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom! [Thank you, sweetie! And yes, I think there ARE 20 new fics every day out there in the fandom. It’s amazing!] Today I come bearing my own rec to you. I've recently read this and it's IMO one of the best fics out there. It's called Lapsteel by carriecmoney and it's a modern stormchaser AU featuring country songs and coming home. ~ @manaika-chan
Lapsteel
by carriecmoney (T, 42k, wangxian)
Summary: Now and then, I think about you now and then...
It's been thirteen years since Wei Ying ran for the prairies, leaving behind a family in shambles and a secret on the Pacific wind. What happens when the storm he swirled catches up to him?
Modern AU with country music star Lan Zhan, stormchaser Wei Ying, and shared crossroads.
~*~
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hello 👀 first of all i love your writing. second of all idk if you saw joon’s make up artist reaching up to him to fix his makeup on set but i could think about vixen bc we all know how volatile and jealous she may get.... so may i suggest a joon x vixen jealous sex drabble??? thank u!!!
Hello, dear reader. Thank you soooo much for the compliments. I couldn’t help but deliver, it literally wrote itself. There you go 💜✨
title: yours, truly
pairing: namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)
wordcount: 2.7k
genre: smut, fluff, established relationship
rating: 18+, minors do not interact
synopsis: Vixen doesn't appreciate the imbalance between her belonging to Namjoon and his belonging to her, and although she understands the limits due to his job, at the same time she's uncomfortable about the way she feels. However, Namjoon is eager to reassure her.
trigger warnings: argument on jealousy and double standards. There is one very specific passage where Namjoon imposes himself physically on Vixen, grabbing her and pinning her while she's trying to get away from him. If this triggers you, please do not read further. On to sexual topics: mention of cunnilingus, masturbation (male and female receiving), unprotected sex (BE SMART!!!!!!), marking, power struggle, several occurrences of pinning and top-bottom shifts.
a/n: Hello people, here's the first of several drabbles I've been working on. Please, stay tuned cause HOPEFULLY Jimin and Princess should be next 💖
Here's my masterlist enjoy 💜✨
⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂
You stormed into the apartment, Namjoon hot on your heels.
“Vixen,” he called, watching you take off your shoes with a frown on your face. “Babylove.”
You lifted a finger, inviting him to keep quiet before you stood and headed to your room.
“Vixen?” he called, once more. He knew what had happened, and he knew you didn't mean to act like that. He knew you didn't like feeling jealous or possessive, but the footage of him wrapping an arm around his makeup artist — even if it was just to keep her from falling — had unsettled you more than you wanted to admit.
There were women who dried his sweat and helped him change his clothes and saw him half naked regularly, and they were out there doing so publicly, while you didn't even own a picture of him kissing you. After being together for six months. After him asking you to be his wife.
To anyone except his friends and family, you were nothing but a stranger to him.
“Vixen?”
You were his. Always. All the time. You wore his clothes and had his marks on you from Monday to Sunday, twenty-four seven, uninterruptedly ever since he'd first told you he loves you — with an unintended pause because of the tour.
But what about him? Did he even belong to you?
He called your name shyly, fearsomely. “Look at me, please.”
“I'm going to take a bath,” you announced dryly.
“I'm coming with you,” he replied, already taking off his clothes.
“I want to be alone.”
He inhaled and did the crudest, most animalistic thing he could think of. He grabbed your waist and made you face him. “Vixen. Look at me.”
You shook your head and tutted.
“Say 'no' and I'll let you go,” he said, his voice booming like thunder.
You stayed silent.
“Look at me,” he repeated, an arm around your waist, his free one coming up so he could grip your chin and force your eyes to meet his. “Like this.”
“I hate this!” you spat, looking away right before he forced you to meet his eyes again. “It's not fair!” You snarled before angrily pushing the heel of your foot against his toes.
He hissed and let you go, only to catch you once more half a second later, pinning you against the wall. “Talk to me.”
Your brow furrowed, your eyes like a dark storm, you looked at the floor as you admitted, “I have no right to feel jealous. And I hate it. It’s not fair.”
Namjoon hugged you to him, kissing your head as you pressed your forehead to his chest.
“I’m so sorry, I just… hate that you make me feel like this. It’s not you, it’s how I feel about what you do. That is, the position you’re in.” You bit your lip nervously, gripping his shirt in your fists.
Namjoon didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, but reversing the situation gave him a quite poignant point of view. The idea of you being chaperoned by other men at all time, of you being in his shoes, with people drooling over you at all times, being backstage and having no privacy with or without your clothes on, people imagining you as their partner, as their hot one night stand, as their one true love.
The thought of having to share you the same way you had to share him all the time made a shiver run down his spine. He knew he would never be able to tolerate all the things you went through for him without batting an eye. “I’m so sorry, love.” He ran his hands to the back of your thighs lowering himself to pick you up, your arms latching behind his neck as he did so. “I’m so, so sorry, little fox,” he repeated, his voice so deep and soothing.
“I’m okay, it’s just that…”
He kissed your cheek as he sat on the bed, placing you on top of him, straddling his hips. “You’re not okay, and that’s alright.” He waited for you to oppose as he let his lips linger one millimeter from yours.
Shyly, almost as if reluctantly, you pressed your mouth to his, feeling his hand on your nape, tangling in your hair, the other one pressed to the small of your back. “Take off your clothes, please,” you whispered in between kisses. Unquestioningly, he took off his undershirt, your body still on top of his while you undid the buttons of your blouse — actually, only a couple of them before you slipped it off from over your head. Namjoon’s hands went around your waist, lifting the lace and satin top you were wearing underneath, pressing his nose to your sternum once your torso was so enticingly naked, your body rising to your knees so he could reach your breastbone more comfortably, your arms hugging his head.
“You’re so precious, my babylove. So strong,” he murmured, “You’re so understanding and I’m so glad when you open up to me.” He inhaled you as he confessed some more of his worries, “I always fear that someday it will feel too much and you’ll leave.”
You shook your head, squishing his face in your palms before standing before him, taking off your jeans lightning-fast, watching him quickly remove his slacks and underwear in one go.
“Come claim it, babe,” he growled, extending his hands to you, making a come-hither motion.
You wiggled out of your panties and smiled sweetly, joining him, sitting on his lap and batting your eyelashes with a cute pout, Namjoon shaking his head at you with a knowing grin. And at that, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. “You really thought?”
He licked his lips and rolled his eyes. “I, at least, hoped.” His hands landed on your ass before you could grab his wrists and pin them above his head while you made your way up, your naked fold glistening with wetness already in the unforgivingly bright light of your bedroom.
You knew he had a thing for keeping the lights on anyways.
“Come on, sit,” he said, his arms fighting you only playfully as he ached to grab your ass and make you ride his face.
“No.” Your reply was lapidary as your free hand began to tease the skin around your sex — not yet your folds, nor your clit,
“Vixen.” Your name sounded like a warning.
“Maybe you’ll learn I can do without you.”
“Enough,” he growled before his arms escaped your weak excuse of a grip, his jaw locked and his eyes stern in what would be nothing but his hard dom look. “You think you’re funny?”
The way he pushed you with your back to the mattress, your arms trying to save you from losing your balance, made your heartbeat flutter.
“You think I don’t know that already? You think that doesn’t scare me to the bone?” He hissed as he laid on top of you, holding back his weight only slightly. “We know who can do without who here,” he said, his eyes so tormented you wanted to comfort him. “I’m half a soul without you.”
You wrapped your legs around him, rubbing your pelvis against his hardening cock. “Stay with me, then. Remind me.” You placed your lips against his neck, licking up the curve of his throat before bringing your lips to his ear. “Are you mine, Joonie?”
His eyes rolled shut, his head moving in a nodding motion. “I only want to be yours. All the time. I wish we could be naked and alone every single second.”
You giggled and moved your hand between your bodies. “Can I stretch a little? I need you inside.”
“Do you want me to do that?” He asked, right before you shook your head. “Fuck, ____, you're fucking perfect,” he murmured, kissing down your body, licking your nipple, sucking it briefly. “I'm so in love.”
“Do you remember what I told you that night?” you asked him, purring as you pushed two fingers inside you.
“That you're gonna be my wife, someday?”
You chuckled and nodded. Sometimes it felt unreal that he had proposed to you. Already.
And that the ring around your right fourth finger was not your family ring.
“I told you I'm dedicating my life to you. That I want to live by your side for as long as we can. That I believe in you.”
He found solace in the crook of your neck, his lips searching for your collarbone before his teeth nibbled at it gently. “Don't stop. Ever.”
A third finger entered your hole, stretching your inner walls until you were comfortable. Still, you were too impatient to wait any longer, grabbing his cock and placing its tip against your folds. “I won't,” you promised, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as he sank in. “Fuck, too big.”
Namjoon backtracked as quickly as possible, but your hands stopped him just in time. “No, no, stay inside, please. I can get used to it.” Your nails sunk into his ass. “Don't go. Please.”
Namjoon inhaled, trying to keep his cool as much as possible. “I should have prepped you.” He groaned and pressed your face into his neck. “Hold tight, love. I need to shift just a little.”
You loved when he pampered you like that, when he treated you like his delicate porcelain doll. With a loud exhale, he fixed his position until he could rest more easily and resist your tight squeezes as you adjusted to him filling you to the brim. In maybe a minute, you shifted your hips, whispering, “Okay, move, please.”
“That's my good girl,” he replied, smiling at you before giving one slow, smooth stroke that made you purr and throw your head back, his tongue drawing the arch of your throat. “My jealous little thing, mh? You're so adorable.” He gave another deep, slow thrust, watching you writhe below him, legs shaking as they tensed up in pleasure. And then again, pulling out and pushing in making your toes curl, your entire mind malfunctioning into bliss.
“I love it when you're jealous,” he taunted you. “Makes me feel so wanted.” He drew the shell of your ear with his lips, your body drowning in sensations, too small to handle all he had to offer. “Almost as sexy and as desirable as you are. My little fox.”
“Joonie…” you almost sobbed, clawing at his shoulders before remembering you must absolutely not, throwing your hands off him and tugging at the sheets.
Namjoon nuzzled his nose against the side of your face. “Scratch, mark, bite. I don't care. I'm yours, Vixen.”
You whimpered and forced yourself not to. Maybe you just wanted to see who would cave first, maybe you were still feeling too petty about all the times you had been denied.
“Do it. I know you want it,” he tempted you. “Take what you want, little fox.”
You shook your head and brought yourself not only to pin your hands in place, but also turn your face away.
Namjoon rammed into you aggressively at your act of defiance, causing you to gasp and flinch. “Claim me. Do it, ____. I belong to you. Won't you acknowledge that?”
Lips sealed, eyes closed, you fought him, knowing you were absolutely hopeless the moment he pulled you on top of him. “See. This is what you do to me. Look at me. Look at the mess I become for you. For you, alone. No one else in the whole world, Vixen. Only you.” He led his hand on your belly, rubbing at your clit with his thumb, letting you grind on him with your own pace. He only wanted to make you feel good. “Vixen, please, baby. Look at me.
Slowly, you opened your eyes, your hands on his pectorals, your hips moving on him so naturally, so comfortably. He looked beautiful. Grandiose. Magnificent.
He looked like the only man you would ever look at. You knew there was no way you would look at anyone else if he was in the room.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked fondly, placing his hand atop of yours, lacing your fingers together.
“That you're the only one for me. That I need something of you that belongs to me alone.”
He shifted your hands slightly, his engulfing your own on top of his beating heart. “Here. Yours. All yours. Take it.”
You started going faster, needing for the messy ordeal to come to an end so you could sleep the afternoon away wrapped up in his arms.
With quick swivels of your hips, you changed your angle, making sure that he rubbed against your sweet spot, deep inside you.
“Guess what else is yours?” he teased, looking down, keeping his finger steady against your sensitive nub.
“Your exceedingly large dick?” you suggested with a gleam in your voice, sending the both of you into a tumble of laughs.
“Exactly,” he replied playfully. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” you replied quickly, feeling your high spiral out of control. “Cumming.”
“Let go,” he reassured you, catching you with his arm once your body collapsed, his thumb still teasing you while he started thrusting from below, making sure that your orgasm peaked and extinguished in pleasure before he finally climaxed, knowing all too well that your final squeezes would trigger his own ecstasy.
“Doesn't it feel good to cum on your favourite dick, mh?”
“My one and only,” you stated openly, watching him get increasingly worked up. “Show me who you belong to, Joon. You say you're mine? Then cum inside me.”
He shut his eyes tight. “Come on. Gimme all you've got,” you taunted him.
He grit his teeth and shook his head. He needed better leverage to go harder.
You understood that immediately. “Wanna get on top?”
He was conflicted, but in the end you found yourself with your back once more to the mattress, his cock pushing inside you so hard and fast that you were ready to start all over again if it weren't for the numbing sleepiness pulling at your mind.
“I'm yours,” he gritted out, in between strokes, like a mantra. “Get it into your pretty head that I'm yours. That I only want you. For the rest of my life,” he breathed out the final part. “I'm gonna—” and with a wildly erotic growl you felt him swell inside you before his release flowed into you, his body too sensitive to handle the high for too long.
Once he was done, there was nothing but spent, panting bodies, your hand in his hair as you helped him calm down.
“Are you feeling better, little fox?” he asked, taking your joined hands and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “If we swapped roles for a day, you the idol and I the normal person, I don't think I would be able to face it like you do.”
With your eyes closed, you waited for him to pull the two of you on your sides, your head on his chest, legs tangled together as he rubbed his feet against yours lazily and lasciviously.
“I know you don't like feeling jealous and I'm sorry that I made you feel that. You always say it's part of my job and you're understanding, but we both know it's hard to stop these emotions from happening.”
You nodded, inhaling his scent, so deeply mixed with yours. “It's worth it though. Because of the man you are, and what you mean to me.”
He kissed your head.
“I need to clean up. I want to sleep with you.”
He nodded. You were both more than happy to cancel the date and just sleep in, wrapped up in light sheets on the late September day.
Once washed and ready for sleep, Namjoon found your perfect position, your right hand in his left one as he toyed with your ring, pushing it around. Even though he had proposed, he knew the wait would be long. Still, he tried. “How much time left?” he asked, the question a cliché between the two of you by now. You always knew what it meant to him.
“A while,” you replied — your usual answer.
He nodded and pulled you closer. “Sleep tight, baby fox.”
“Sleep tight, big bear.”
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