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agreeeeeeeeeee · 3 days ago

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HI ALLIE CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS I THINK ABSOLUTELY DESERVED BECAUSE YOUR WORK IS INCREDIBLE YOU ATE THAT UP SLAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I............ I have never submitted a request, unless I was explicitly asked by the writer because ksjdjdjjjsjsj ME ASKING FOR SOMETHING?????? SNSJSJSJ ANYWAY I was like it should be fine because it's for your celebration SOOO hear me out. Remus Lupin ? IM GOING THRU A REMUS THING ? 1000 scars/1000 glances???? WHICHEVER IS FINE YOURE GONNA EAT WITH THAT

WEE OK BYE I LOVE YOU BYE

xxx

ilysm and I hope this only deepens your Remus fixation 🫶🏻 thank you so much for all of your love and support, I genuinely get excited when I see you pop up in my feed or notifs. my favorite hanni 🤍

1000 inked scars | R.L.

feat. Remus Lupin x tattooartist!reader

cw: mdni 18+, possessive!Remus, marking kink, oral (fem receiving), tattoo needles and tattooing, mentions of injury and scars, probably inaccurate representation of tattooing in the 70's, no war

1000 things prompt list (closes feb 1!) | masterlist

“Quit squirming or I’m going to turn this constellation into a penis,” you griped, lifting your machine from Sirius’ leg.

“Maybe if you didn’t handle that gun like a cudgel—”

You slapped his fresh tattoo and he yelped. “Pull yourself together, Black. You’re almost done.”

He groaned, slumping back onto the table with his arms slung over his head. “Sadist,” he hissed.

You resumed your tattooing, packing black ink to the map of stars. “Said the masochist that paid me to stab him a million times.”

He glanced down at you. “Are you flirting with me?”

You glared up at him.

Just then, the bell on the front door or you shop chimed. A tall man with sandy hair, dressed in jeans and thick sweater stood in the foyer, looking around at the art and plants strewn about. Given your profession, you immediately noticed his lack of tattoos, and the scars marring his hands and neck, one even stretching from his sharp jaw towards his nose.

“Moony!” Sirius called, jerking his leg and nearly inking himself.

“Sirius,” you bit, but he was already out of the chair.

“What’s—uh, what’s up, Pads?” the stranger, Moony?, said, glancing down at Sirius’ rolled up pant leg and the nearly finished tattoo on his calf. Then, his eyes flicked to you, a deep brown and sallow with exhaustion, but his beauty struck you like a blow, the lines of his face coalescing in a way that would make the great painters weep.

Based on the countless stories Sirius had told you in the hours spent on your table, you surmised that this was Remus Lupin, his level-headed, long-suffering schoolmate.

“I wanted you to meet my friend!” Sirius grabbed his by the elbow and dragged him towards your station.

You sighed and set your machine aside. Clearly, you were taking a break.

“Remus, this is y/n, the architect of my beauty,” Sirius said, gesturing grandly in your direction.

You slid off one of your gloves and extended it to Remus. “Pleasure. I’ve heard loads about you.”

“Oh?” Remus asked, shaking your hand with a light touch, his skin warm and a bit rough. “Terrible things, I wager?”

“The worst,” you chuckled, and the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half-smile.

“Well, then there’s no where to go but up,” he said with a cheeky wink, and your heart damn near leaped out of your mouth.

“I asked Moony to come hang out for the last bit of the tattoo so he could pick your brain,” Sirius said, hopping back up onto the table.

“Sirius—”

“Pick my brain about what?” You asked, pulling up a chair for Remus and sitting back onto your stool, putting on a fresh pair of gloves.

“I, uh—”

“Moony wants to know if you can tattoo over scars,” Sirius said, earning a glare from Remus.

“Absolutely!” you chirped, hoping to dispel Remus’ clear discomfort. “Just takes a few extra passes, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Remus gave you a small, grateful smile. “Really?”

“Really. I’ve tattooed over dozens of scars, cover-ups, or decorations. I’d love to work with you.” Merlin, did you just say that out loud? You needed to get it together; you were a professional.

“See, Moons? I told you!” Sirius propped his leg back up, and you fired up the machine. “And it doesn’t even hurt.”

You lowered the machine back to his leg, taking a few quick warm up strokes.

“AHH YOU WITCH!” Sirius wailed. You and Remus both jumped at his shouting, but he quickly dissolved into laughter. “Bloody hell, I knew you two would get along. You’ve got twin scowls,” Sirius chuckled, leaning back against the table with his hands behind his head.

You glanced at Remus, and he looked back at you. A flicker of connection flared between you, and heat rose in your cheeks. Quickly, you looked away, turning your attention back to Sirius’ tattoo.

“So, what are you thinking you want to get, Rem?” Sirius asked after a few moments of quiet, the buzzing of the machine filling the air.

Remus shrugged. “Hadn’t really thought about it. Just wanted to do…something.”

“Well, if you want, we can try and cover any up. But I find that people really get more out of going the decorative route,” you supplied, looking at Remus while you picked up more ink. “I can hand draw a few designs that flow with the scar, turn it into an art piece itself.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, contemplative, and Sirius gave you a knowing smile. “I think I might like that, yeah,” Remus said, his voice soft, almost awestruck. Like he’d never ever considered the possibility before.

As a tattoo artist, you were intimately aware of how much a person’s skin could impact their well being, scars in particular weighed heavily on many people’s spirit. Remus, it seemed, was no exception.

Sirius guided the conversation in another direction, giving Remus a chance to process the implications of what you offered, and you finished the tattoo half-an-hour later. While you were wiping it down, Remus hovered over you, looking down at the piece.

“You’re really good,” he murmured, close enough that you could smell the wool of his sweater, the lingering notes of cinnamon and tea from his cologne. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, Rem,” you said, smiling up at him, and he smiled back, a flush creeping up his neck before he hurriedly stepped away.

You patched up Sirius and sent the boys on their way, an appointment for Remus on the books for the following week. All he’d given you to work with was placement, his forearm, and that he wanted something natural, like a plant.

Having no more appointments for the evening, you folded yourself into your studio couch with your sketchbook. You sketched a few things, lavender and roses and chamomile, but your fingers itched to draw something else. Remus’ profile floated into your minds eye, sorrowful and striking, and your pen started to move of it’s own accord. His expression came to life under your hand, with long lashes and a crooked nose and that jagged scar.

You clapped your sketchbook shut, sitting back with a sigh.

Next week couldn’t come quickly enough.

You paced around your shop, pouring over your sketch for Remus. You wanted it to be perfect for him, lest you scare him off a tattooing forever.

The door chimes, startling you out of your concentration, and Remus strode in, carrying a tray of drinks and a paper bag

“Morning!” You chirped, hugging your sketchbook to your chest.

“Morning,” he said, passing you one of the cups. “I asked Sirius what you liked, so if it's awful, blame him.”

Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach. It wasn't unusual for clients to bring you coffee and food, but with Remus it felt…different.

“Oh! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, Remus,” you said, taking a sip. It was your favorite drink, and it's familiar warmth settled some of your nerves.

He gave you a small smile, but you could tell he was nervous. He set the bag on your desk. “I also brought some pastries. Sirius mentioned you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate.” You beamed. “Come on in, we can sit over here and go over the design.”

Remus nodded, shirking his coat and following you over to the couch. He was like an anxious thundercloud, tense and unsteady, and it made your chest tight with empathy.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, patting the spot beside you.

He sat down, coiled in on himself despite his long limbs. Like he was afraid to take up too much space. “Ah, fine,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. Earl gray, from the smell of it.

You arched a brow. “It's okay to be nervous, Rem,” you said. “But it's just us, and nothing is set in ink. If you change your mind, it's totally fine.”

“It's just—” he sighed, lifting his arm. He started to roll up his shirt sleeve, dexterous fingers folding the fabric neatly over itself, revealing inch after inch of his forearm. Lightly tanned and taut with lean muscle, veins tangling with the map of scars littering his skin.

He watched your face, gauging your reaction. You tried to stay neutral, but you were practically salivating. He was so beautiful.

“Are they too bad?” He asked, his voice rough with tension.

You met his brown eyes. “Not at all.” You pulled out your sketchbook, flipping to the page you had ear marked. “And it's perfect for what I sketched up.”

He managed a half-smile, some of the clouds disappearing from his aura, and accepted the sketchbook when you handed it to him. His eyes widened.

“Goldenrod,” you said, shifting closer to look at the sketch over his shoulder. “Used to treat pain.”

Remus traced his finger over the tangle of stems, the delicate florals. “I take it almost everyday,” he murmured, looking over at you, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn't quite place.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, your gazes lingering on one another.

“I think it's perfect,” he said, and you smiled, genuinely thrilled that he liked it.

“Okay, ready for me to start sketching?” You asked, and he nodded. You led him over to your station, already set up and waiting for him, and he hoped up onto the chair,, his long limbs dangling near to the floor. To break the quiet, you put on a muggle record, and Remus seemed to relax a bit, sipping on his tea and watching you putter around through dark lashes.

When you settled onto your stool, ink pen in hand, anxiety bloomed in your stomach. Remus was about to watch you draw on him. You’d drawn on hundreds of clients, but like everything else, with Remus it felt…different.

“It might tickle,” you warned, resting his arm where you wanted it, your fingertips tingling from the contact. “And try to stay very still.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he murmured, getting comfortable. Entirely oblivious to the way the petname made your thoughts turn to static.

You placed your sketchbook just beside his arm and made the first line, a quick stem arching alongside a scar stretching from wrist to elbow. Slowly, line after line, the sketch started to come together, flowing with the natural shape of his forearm and it’s scars. You got lost in the act, sinking into the labor of creating.

It wasn’t until Remus made a soft, approving hum in his throat that you peaked up him, breaking your focus. His eyes were almost sleepy, heavy-lidded and soft and the corners, a smile tugging at his lips.

“No wonder Sirius like this so much,” he said, tracing your face with his eyes. “Watching you work is fascinating.”

Heat roared to your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t—he seems more interested in teasing me than letting me work.”

“That does sound like Sirius,” he chuckled. “I like your focused face much more than that scowl.”

Merlin, what was happening to you? You felt like you could melt into your chair like a pile of pudding. Was he flirting with you? Or does he always talk like a romance book hero?

“How long have you guys known each other?” You asked, changing the subject and ducking back down to your work to hide your expression.

“Decade at least,” Remus said. “We met our first year at Hogwarts. Never thought I’d befriend the Sirius Black, but y’know, stranger things have happened.”

“Why’d you think that?”

Remus shrugged, the muttered a soft apology for moving. “Sirius is…Sirius, and I’m…”

“Charming? Sweet? Clever?” You asked, glancing up at him. “Sirius talks about you like you hung the moon.”

A flush creeped up his neck. “He’s dramatic.”

“And brutally honest,” you said, holding his gaze.

“Can I ask you something?” Now it was his turn to change the subject.

“Of course,” you said, capping your pen and setting it aside.

“Why haven’t you, ah, asked?” He glanced down at his scars, and you know what he was implying.

You shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me if you felt comfortable. I’m not here to pry, just help.”

His eyes flitted over your face, swallowing hard, and it seemed he was at a loss for words.

“Ready for ink?” You asked, giving him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster.

He exhaled, turning his wrist to inspect the design. “Ready.”

The rest of the appointment flew by, with Remus sitting like a stone while you tattooed him for close to four hours. You didn’t speak much, letting the music fill the empty air, but it was a comfortable silence, broken by the occasional question or annecdote. Remus seemed to appreciate being able to relax, and you were happy to give him a safe place for little while. Holding space for what this moment meant to him.

When you were finished, Remus stared at the tattoo in the mirror for a long time, and when he turned back for you to wrap it up, you could see tears collecting on his lower lashes.

"Thank you for this," he said, clearing his throat. "You were--this was amazing."

You knew he meant the art, but still, the praise made your heart glow all the same. "Of course, Remus. I'm glad I got to be the one to do this for you."

Before leaving, he placed another appointment on your books for the following week, this time asking for a tree along the back of his calf, the roots spreading across the scaring he had there.

After Remus’ second and third appointment, you noticed a change in him. He seemed more confident, a little more outspoken. He was coming to life before your eyes, and you were starting to see the fuller picture of the boy Sirius loved so much.

Already, you felt so close to him. Connected. And you were starting to miss him those days in between, his appointment becoming the highlight of your week. Your sketchbook was filling with sketches of him, like you mind needed a place to spill your overflowing thoughts of him. With him, it was like every sound was heightened, every movement sharper, the very colors in the room more vibrant. Overwhelming in the best way.

But then he cancelled your fourth appointment, citing illness, and you didn’t see him for two weeks. It wasn’t until he sent and owl requesting an appointment for this coming Friday that you finally felt like you could breathe.

Sorry again for cancelling. Are you free this Friday? Thinking a moon and stars on my chest, with those gorgeous clouds I saw in your sketchbook. Can’t wait, RL.

When Remus walked into your studio, you had to stop yourself from hugging him, you were so excited to see him. He looked tired, a little dimmer than the last time you saw him, but he greeted you with a warm smile and a bag of pastries, and that was all you needed.

You had him sit up on the table, busying yourself with the station in avoidance of the inevitable. He was going to have to take his shirt off. Your heart was palpitating just thinking about it.

“Alright, Rem. Strip for me,” you said, ripping the metaphorical bandaid off.

He huffed a laugh, seeming a bit shy himself. “Yes ma’am.” In a fluid motion, he hooked his fingers under his sweater and tugged it overhead. His chest was tanned and lined with lean muscle, the kind built outdoors, not in the gym. The scaring was worse, deeper gauges in softer flesh, but you barely registered it, too busy staring at the half-healed red slash across his ribs.

You gasped. “Rem, what happened?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was in a fight club?” He rubbed the back of his head, averting his eyes from yours.

“No, but you don’t have to tell me anything. Just that you’re alright,” you said, unable to mask the warble of concern in your voice. You were already starting to gather that Remus was…different. And you'd only met one other person with scars that matched his, and they also always cancelled around the full moon.

His eyes softened. “I’m alright, dove. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m the only one that gets to gauge you with weapons,” you huffed, grabbing up your sketching marker.

He barked a laugh, head tipping back on his shoulders. “Fair enough. Only you get to wound me permanently from now on.”

“Glad we reached an understanding.” You propped the sketchbook on the table and leaned in to start sketching. Remus sat up as straight as he could, resulting in your head hovering around his clavicle. But, with his long legs, you couldn’t get close enough.

Remus seemed to pick up on your dilemma and slowly spread his knees, allowing you to step between them. The heat of his body was intense, drawing you closer, but you swallowed your impulse, trying to focus instead on the moon and constellations you were mapping out.

As you drew, you started to shift closer, drawn in by the work and his proximity, the clean smell of his skin, until you were practically leaning against him.

“You smell nice,” he hummed, close enough that you felt his breath tickle the hair around your ear.

You nearly dropped the marker, but managed to keep your grip steady. “So do you,” you said, unable to come up with something clever.

“Y’know, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I—I missed you the last two weeks.” Remus’ voice was low, just above a whisper, resonant like a drum in his chest. You wanted to wrap it around you like a blanket.

You looked up at him, lips slightly parted in shock, so close you could brush your nose against his if you moved a hair closer. “You did?” You asked, certain that if pupils could turn into lovehearts, yours would be beaming out of your head like a cartoon.

His hand came up to caress you jaw, tentative and gentle. “Being with you is the best I’ve felt in ages,” he said, tilting your face a little closer to his. “I don’t—”

The bell to your studio rang loudly, and you jumped back from Remus’ hold, nearly tripping over your stool.

“Hey Moony! There’s my favorite artist!” James came plowing through, wrapping you up in a bearhug that squeezed the air from your lungs. “How are you, sweetness?”

“I’m good, Jamie,” you wheezed, and he set you back on your feet.

The boys clasped hands, a quick, almost automatic handshake.

“What are you doing here, Prongs?” Remus asked, trying and failing at not looking irritated.

“Sirius said you were getting some ink today so I figured I’d swing by and have you take a peak at how mine’s healing.”

“James, it’s been like six months. Your antlers healed fine,” you reminded him.

“You did his antlers?” Remus asked, a flicker of something dark passing through his eyes.

You nodded. “Yeah, you didn’t know?”

He shook his head, glancing sidelong at his friend.

“I suppose it might be time for a touch up. Let me see,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest.

James lifted his shirt, revealing a peak of his washboard abs, framed by a pair of sprawling antlers across his hip bones. You leaned a bit closer, checking for any faded spots or ink spreading.

“Looks perfect, Jamie. All good,” you said, sitting back on your stool, mildly impressed with yourself.

“Brilliant. I love them, and they’re very effective.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you and Remus rolled your eyes.

James hung out for another hour, chatting with Remus while you finished the sketch of the tattoo. Your bodies were just as close as before, but with James, you were forced to keep it strictly professional. But the proximity without being allowed to touch was melting your mind, making heat pool in your lower belly. You could feel every breath Remus took, feel the rumble of his voice in your chest, the warmth of his body mingling with yours.

It was maddening, and you could tell Remus was growing more impatient by the second, the muscles around his neck taught with tension, his fingers twitching against his thighs.

At one point, you laughed at one of James’ jokes and swatted at his chest, earning a smile from him. When you glanced back at Remus, his jaw was clenched tight, eyes glaring a hole into the drink in his hands.

Was he…jealous?

He had no right to be, but still, the thought of him being possessive made your heart rate quicken.

Finally, James left, leaving you and Remus alone in the simmering tension you'd built. He watched you closely as you returned to your station, prepping the tattoo machine.

“Would you ever get a tattoo like that?” You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes.

He leaned back on the seat, bracing his hands behind him. Showing off the lean expanse of his torso, the rugged look of him that stood in sharp juxtaposition to his style and personality. “Not sure I could pull it off.”

You scoffed, allowing him to see you peruse his body. “I strongly disagree.”

He chewed on his lower lip, a nervous habit. A flush started to spread across his chest, reaching towards his cheeks. “What would you suggest?” he asked, a sultry edge of his voice.

Unhurried, you stepped back between his legs, letting your fingertips graze along the valleys of his lower abdomen. “Perhaps a snake.” You traced the shape along his skin, his muscles tensing to stop himself from shivering. “Or ferns. Maybe a wolfs jaw—”

“A wolfs jaw?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You met his eyes. “You should give me a little more credit, Moony.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback that you knew his secret. “You knew.”

“I do now. I've only seen scars like yours once before, on another werewolf. And with the nickname, your tattoo choices, being MIA on the full moon…it adds up.”

His eyes searched your face. “And you don't care?”

“Of course not. I care about you, not your affliction.” Your hands still lingered on his hips, like your skin was magnetized together, you couldn't seem to pull them apart.

Remus straightened, his hand coming up to cup your face again. “I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,” he breathed. “You’ve gotten under my skin, dove.”

“It's risky, y’know, to flirt with your tattoo artist,” you murmured, grazing your fingers over the mostly healed goldenrod tattoo. “You've got a permanent reminder of me.”

He smirked, his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Well, the thing about werewolves…” he was so close, warm breath fanning across your lips. “We're a possessive sort, territorial. So having your mark on my skin…” he sighed, eyes dark with desire. “I'm finding it hard to hold myself back.”

“Then don't,” you replied, heart in your throat.

Remus surged forward, lips colliding in a heady, toe-curling kiss. You immediately gave into him, his tongue caressing the seam of your mouth, dipping past your lips to taste you, claim you.

Your arms found their way around his neck, fingers digging into his feathery hair and tugging at the roots, drawing a low groan from his chest. He nipped at your lower lip in warning before soothing it with his tongue.

“Be gentle with me,” he grated, kissing along your cheek, down towards your throat. He craned your head back, grazing his teeth along your pulse, and you shivered. “I’m trying to savor this, not devour you.”

“Do you always keep yourself on such a tight leash?” You asked, breathless as he lapped at your skin, your thighs trembling with desire.

“Patience, dove,” he chastised affectionately, lifting his head. “Just be good for me, yeah? You’ll get what you want.”

Your brain emptied. Seeing this dominant side of Remus had you folding like origami. You nodded, letting him drag you in for another languid, bone-melting kiss.

Remus slid off the table without breaking the kiss, leaning down to scoop you up by the thighs in a fluid motion.

“Rem!” You gasped in surprise when he turned and dropped you onto the table he just vacated.

He leaned over you, one hand reaching down to recline the seat so you were laying back, legs on either side of his hips. His lips found your neck again, kissing and licking his way down while his hands pushed up the hem of your shirt, fingertips cool against your fevered skin.

“Tell me if you want me stop,” he said, shifting to kiss around your navel.

“Don't stop. Please don't stop,” you pleaded, and he smiled against your hip before sucking the skin between his teeth, biting at your flesh just hard enough you make you keen.

“I won't, love. I'm not going anywhere.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans, easing them down over your hips until they fell to the ground in a pile.

Your knees tried to pull together on instinct, the vulnerability making you flush, but his hands gripped your inner thighs, spreading you apart for him. You could tell he was in his element, something having loosened from his usually reserved demeanor. It felt like you were seeing him completely for the first time. No holds barred.

“Don't hide from me, pretty girl,” he cooed, lowering to his knees. “You're gorgeous.” He trailed kisses up your thigh, charting a tingling path until his nose grazed sodden panties, making your pussy flutter and clench. “Fuck, you smell divine,” he muttered before dragging his tongue over the thin fabric.

“Oh, god—Remus,” you moaned when he sucked on the fabric over your clit, pleasure blooming from your center. Your eyes rolled back, fingers tangling in his hair as he flicked your swelling bud with his tongue.

“So responsive,” he praised, pulling your panties aside with his middle finger. “You this sweet for all of your clients?”

You shook your head. ”I've never—fuck, baby.” Your words splintered into a cry as he eased his middle finger inside of you, your dripping entrance accepting him eagerly. He nudged your clit with his nose, making you cry out again.

“Just me?” His voice almost sounded like a purr, deeply pleased by your admission.

You nodded, urging him closer by the roots of his hair, and he practically growled.

He nipped at your thigh, overpowering your meager attempt easily. “Patience, remember?”

You whined. “Remus, please. Just wanna feel you.”

He withdrew his finger, then added a second, pumping you slowly. “I know, baby. I'm right here, I've got you.” His mouth found your clit again, his tongue circling around and around, and you arched off the table, moans spilling from your lips like a song.

Steadily, the fire built, with Remus' devoted attention pouring over you like gasoline. He moaned against you, eyes screwed shut when your pussy clenched around his fingers, teetering on the edge.

The table shifted, rocking back a bit, and you looked past Remus' hair tangled in your fingers to his body. He was rocking his hips against the edge of the table, so turned on by the act of eating you out that he needed some relief.

“Rem, baby,” you whined, the sight dragging you that much closer to release. He glanced up at you, his eyes glazed and pussydrunk, and he whimpered against you.

His deliberate motions got sloppier, greedier, as he rutted against the table. Losing control of himself, like his entire being was desperate to be inside of you.

With a final curl of his fingers, you toppled over the edge, coming with a cry loud enough to rattle the windows as relief crashed over you, cool water dousing the flames beneath your skin.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, withdrawing his fingers to lap directly from you, savoring every drop of his efforts. “That's it, love. Relax f’me.” He brought you back to earth with his tongue, long, languid licks and kisses around your trembling center, across your inner thigh slung over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Remus,” you panted, slumping back against the table. “That was—”

He made his way up your body, catching your words in a messy, top-lip kiss. “Got your mark all over me now, dove,” he purred, pecking your cheek with a cheeky grin.

“What about…” you trailed off, fingers toying with his belt, unsure of what you were asking for him to fuck you, or mark you. Or both. All you knew was that you wanted him, badly, even more so with that post-orgasm clarity.

“Patience,” he replied, chuckling at the annoyed look you shot him. “Ready to finish up this tattoo?”

“But you didn't get to—”

“I’m, ah, a bit embarrassed to say that I did.” He straightened with a sheepish smile, revealing the dark spot leaking through his jeans.

Holy shit. You'd made him cum in his pants.

You surged up, throwing your arms around his neck and tugging him down in to a ravenous kiss. “Merlin, you're so fucking hot,” you mumbled against his mouth.

He grinned, breaking the kiss to nuzzle into your neck, hiding the flush you could see staining his ears. “Says the girl that made me cum without touching me,” he muttered, almost indignant.

“I’m not sorry,” you chuckled, sighing when he pressed his plush, kiss-swollen lips to your racing pulse.

“It's alright, I'll get even,” he teased, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Is that a promise?”

“Most normal people would interpret it as a threat.” He picked his head up, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, I'm not normal people,” you replied.

“And thank Godric for that.” He kissed you again, all smiles and airy pecks.

Normal was never your style anyway.

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s1eept0ken · 3 months ago

Text

Smutty & sweet sleep token head cannons

warnings-most of it as per usual 🙈

MDNI! 18+

꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎

Vessel

☣︎loves your pretty smile, his heart absolutely melts when he sees it

☣︎100% has you as his wallpaper

☣︎as kind and gentle as he is with you outside the bedroom, he’s the complete opposite when it’s just the two of you! Always treats you like his little play thing

☣︎ves just gives off sweet!dom vibes, like yes he can be rough with you 99% of the time but he’s always gotta make sure his pretty girl is doing alright after he’s done fucking her recklessly!

☣︎there’s not one inch of that house where you haven’t been fucked on

☣︎he’s always buying you sweet gifts, flowers, chocolates ect ect…

☣︎I feel like he’s big on shower sex, it’s so intimate, the warm water running down your bodies while the air is full of steam and sex? Sign him UP

☣︎Such a cuddle bear, always needs to fall asleep with you in his arms

☣︎He ALWAYS has to have his hands on you, whether it’s them on your hips, thighs, shoulders hell he even grips onto your ass sometimes! He doesn’t care though as long as he can feel the warmth of your soft skin in his hands then that’s all that matters

☣︎definitely big on choking, but only choking you. Not rough but to the point where you’re slightly struggling to breathe gets him rock hard

☣︎he could stare at you for HOURS and never see a single flaw, the moment you say something negative about yourself he’s got you completely naked in front of a mirror running his hands gently up and down your entire body telling you and reminding you on how gorgeous you are, and then yknow damn well he’ll fuck you in front of it!

☣︎we all know our man is tatted up, would definitely want matching tattoos

☣︎he wants EVERYONE to know you’re his and his only, always buys you jewellery with his initials on it

III

☣︎Where do I even begin with this man…he’s so insanely obsessed with you, always needs to make you feel like you’re the most perfect girl in the world! And let’s be honest, in his eyes you 1000% are

☣︎big on praise, whether it’s him giving it to you or you giving it to him he fucking loves it

☣︎LOVES eating you out and no one can change my mind, it’s his favourite thing to do! Your plush thighs squeezing around his head, your little moans and whimpers and even better him just making you feel good? Yes please

☣︎loves just touching you, whenever you are just standing somewhere he’ll come up, wrap his long arms around your waist, nuzzle his face into your neck and whisper sweet nothings into your ear!

☣︎goes absolutely feral when you ride him, he loves having control over you and your movements, your hips move so perfectly on him he could swear he sees stars when you’re on top of him bouncing on his long cock

☣︎when he’s away on tour and he’s missing you, bet your ass he’s gonna be sending proof, he’s always sending videos/pictures of him stroking his cock slowly, letting out low groans and even if you’re lucky he’d send you a voice message of him saying everything he’d do to you when he gets back and how he’s been so desperate for you! :(

☣︎he treats you like you’re his sugar baby! Always buying you such expensive nice things, anything and everything you want he’s always got for you in a heart beat!

☣︎Honestly..I feel like he’s so into tying you up, wrapping a blindfold around your pretty eyes and just teasing you for however long he’d like to and you would absolutely have zero say

☣︎always following you wherever you go, like a puppy! He adores you so much he sees you as his and his only pretty girl! Which you are

☣︎as much as he loves to spoil you, he loves to hear you beg especially when you’re so close to cumming and he slows down his movements, daring to pull out completely until you’re a blabbering, begging little mess

☣︎whenever he comes up with a good riff you are ALWAYS the first he shows, he gets so excited it’s adorable!

☣︎if one of the other guys or even random men look at you in a way that he doesn’t like, especially if it looks like a flirty way he’s definitely pulling you into the closest room he can find and fucking you recklessly, reminding you who you belong to

I hope you guys enjoyed! I’m sorry it’s not great :( but all requests I’m happy to write for so leave some if you’d like!

Love you🖤

#sleep token #sleep token x reader #sleep token fic #sleep token smut #iii sleep token #iii sleep token smut #vessel sleep token #vessel sleep token smut #ii sleep token #iv sleep token

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runninriot · 6 months ago

Text

written for the @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'behind the scenes'

fun to be famous

wc: 1000 | rated: M | cw: language | tags: famous Corroded Coffin, musicians Jeff, Gareth and Frank, frontman Eddie Munson, model Steve Harrington, the 'struggles' and perks of being famous

Eddie hates photo shoots. Hates the clothes the stylist chose for him to wear. Hates having to pose like a soulless mannequin just to portray some bullshit cliché - surrounded by cheap props like fucking plastic skulls with red glowing eyes that look absolutely hideous. Really ruins the magic of the end result when you know what’s going on behind the scenes.

But he knows it’s part of the game, part of what makes people want to buy their albums, and merch, and come to their shows.

It’s a small price to pay, really, when put in perspective. Because what’s a few hours of being uncomfortable if in return, they get to live their fucking dream.

To be the rock stars they always wanted to be, playing sold-out shows in huge arenas, listening to massive crowds singing their songs back to them.

Still, he hates it.

Especially because they always put him upfront, always the centerpiece of every goddamn magazine cover, as if the other members don’t matter as much. It's stupid but his band mates never complain about it. And maybe he brought it upon himself for being a bit of an attention whore on stage.

It was never a conscious choice; he’s always just being himself. Sue him for looking damn fucking good in his mesh tops, and skin-tight leather pants. For loving to make the crowd go wild when he struts around with his pierced nipples out in the open, wearing a skirt that barely covers his best bits, and thigh-high boots.

He loves to be just a little extravagant and coquettishly playful when putting on a show.

That, and the fact that he's always been unashamedly open about his sexuality and his many hook-ups in the past, gave him a certain… reputation. And he’s completely fine with that, really, as long as the way they’re marketing said image doesn't take away from the really important stuff, which is and always has been the music.

They are good at what they do, all of them, didn’t become famous for nothing.

Jeff, Gareth and Frank are exceptionally gifted musicians. And Eddie doesn’t just say this because they’ve been his best friends forever. It’s a fact. And without them, Corroded Coffin wouldn’t be the band it is.

Eddie wouldn’t be who he is without them.

That’s why he wants to protest when the photographer suggests to do a few shots of just Eddie, to ‘give the people what they want.’, but his treacherous friends beat him to it, agree happily to step back and let them do their thing.

He’s told to sit down on some kind of makeshift throne like he’s the Dark Lord himself, while someone calls for someone else to ‘bring in the models’.

Eddie’s mouth falls open when he sees the two ravishing beauties that look like they’ve just tumbled out of a kinky fantasy. The girl is petite with big blue eyes and the cutest smile, her strawberry blond hair in a high ponytail, dressed in lace and leather, enhancing the perfect shape of her body. She’s gorgeous and totally his type, but-

It's the other model, the guy, who has Eddie's full attention. Because holy shit, that man’s a wet dream come true and for once, being in the spotlight doesn't seem so bad anymore.

Eddie thinks he might be in love.

The photographer is yelling instructions but Eddie can hardly hear what he's saying. He’s too distracted by the way the girl drapes herself lasciviously over the armrest on his left, making him feel hot all over with her closeness. And when the guy drops down to his knees in front of him, both hands on Eddie's thighs, looking up at him like he's a fucking God - Eddie forgets how to breathe.

He moves on autopilot, mindlessly following orders. Not once taking his eyes off the beautiful fucking good boy at is feet, thinking dirty rotten thoughts about all the things he'd do to him if this scenario was real and not just for reader-baiting purposes.

It all ends too soon. He could've done this for hours.

Eddie is in the dressing room when someone knocks at the door. And because he assumes it's one of his mates, he just calls for them to 'Come in!', unbothered by his state of undress, naked except for his underwear – nothing to hide once you've shared a tour bus so many times – standing with his back to the door, rummaging around in his suitcase for a fresh set of clothes.

"Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to as-ohmygod! I am so sorry! I didn't know you where-"

Eddie turns around so quickly it makes him dizzy, surprised to find not Gareth, or Frank, or Jeff but another a familiar set of eyes staring back at him.

It’s hot guy from earlier.

“You’re not a fan, huh?” Eddie asks with a cocky grin on his face, just a bit too proud of himself for how quickly he regained his composure. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t be so shocked to see me half-naked.” Eddie winks and pretty boy's face turns a deep cherry-red.

“No, I, uh, I mean, yes. I mean-,“ the guy struggles for words and it's so precious, Eddie wants to bite him.

“I wanted to ask you for an autograph.”

Oh please. Baby, you can have so much more.

“Tell you what, sweetheart. I’ll sign my name if you give me your number. How’s that sound?”

When Eddie reunites with his friends 30 minutes later, Gareth is immediately onto him.

“Please tell me you didn’t just fuck the model.”

“His name is Steve and you know what they say - what happens behind the scenes, stays there.”

“Literally no one says that. And you’re a slut.” Gareth laughs and Frank and Jeff agree.

They're not wrong, Eddie’s definitely a slut for Steve. And he can’t wait to meet him at the hotel room later to finish what they started.

#corrodedcoffinfest #writing prompt #corroded coffin #eddie munson #steve harrington

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mandoalorian · 2 years ago

Text

save a horse, ride a cowboy

pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

masterlist

warnings: EXPLICIT, no minors. m!masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism to some extent, riding, unprotected p in v. both so so touch starved. joel has a lot to teach the reader.

notes: 1000 notes on my last post— thank you. I haven’t written in a long time and get quite anxious to post new fics, but when the response is that great, how could I not? You make me feel way more confident with my writing and encourage me to post more often. I hope to soon get to a place where I can start accepting requests again and writing what you want me to.

Joel didn’t like you— that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since daybreak, when he left Tess at the QZ to deal with ‘unfinished business’ and promised her to deliver you to the outskirts of Boston without Fedra knowing. It was a difficult journey with the soldiers scouting the area on every corner, but after around six hours of travelling on foot, you and Joel had reached the border of Cornwall, Canada, which is exactly where you needed to be.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you wanted to be in Canada because that’s where your parents were. Or so, where you last heard they were. You’d do anything to reunite with them and make sure they were safe but you weren’t exactly good with a gun and you weren’t a particularly fast runner either. You needed someone like Joel to smuggle you out of the Quarantine Zone. He was your protector.

“You haven’t said a word to me all day,” you acknowledged when you couldn’t sleep that night. You lay next to Joel in your own sleeping bag, framed by a roaring fire and underneath tall, forested shelter. “Why?”

Joel huffed out a sigh and rolled over onto his back, now looking up at the starry night sky.

He didn’t reply.

You gave him a few minutes and tried to gather your thoughts, hoping he’d eventually cave and tell you why he’d hated you all this time. Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. Hell, you’d only met him earlier in the day. You’d hardly had enough of an influence on him to hate you. You liked to think of yourself as big and strong and apathetic in regards to people’s opinion of you. In the world that you lived in, you couldn’t afford to give a damn. And yet, you did. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. You got anxious about it if you thought about it too long and so you would desperately try and find a distraction or think of something else to focus on. The trees— the stars— the fire— Joel.

He was the epitome of ‘grumpy old man’. You briefly wondered if he was this grumpy before the apocalypse. Why was he so highly strung? Sure, life wasn’t exactly good or easy for him— but it wasn’t good or easy for anyone.

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to go to Canada,” you said slowly, figuring that if you could open up to the man, then maybe he could at least offer you a few words back. “My parents are there. I think they are anyway. My father sent a letter over to the QZ months ago but I only just got it on Tuesday. I don’t know if they’re still there but I need to check. My mom is sick and I just… need to be with them… and I couldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t last two seconds out there with infected. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, tha—“

“Okay.” Joel cut you off abruptly. He didn’t want your ‘thank you’s’ or your tokens of gratitude. He was doing a job and he was only here to get paid.

“Where are you from?” you asked him quietly. He shuffled but didn’t reply, and so you were prompted to follow on further. “You got an accent. Southern, there’s no doubting that. Tennessee…—?”

“Texas.” Joel corrected and you smiled to yourself. He may have been a man of few words but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you think he was from Tennessee.

“Texas huh?” you beamed brightly. Joel didn’t move his head, but he looked over to you and noticed your grin. “So you’re like, a cowboy.”

You giggled playfully and nudged his arm, but he only grunted and closed his eyes.

“You ever ride a horse?” you asked him.

“You’re annoying,” Joel sighed, rubbing his temples, but he supposed that— if he had to be honest with himself— he was somewhat amused by your plentiful questions. “But yeah. I’ve rode a horse.”

“I always wanted to ride a horse, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it,” you admitted sheepishly. “No co-ordination.”

“It’s all in the hips.” Joel explained and his interest in horses took you by surprise. This was the most he talked all day.

You pursed your lips together fighting back another smile. There was no denying the rush of blood that flushed to your cheeks as you felt them heat up over the thought of the Cowboy riding his horse. But then you remembered how he’d also just expressed his irritation with you and your abundance of pointless questions and you felt your heart drop in your chest slightly. A pang of guilt.

You told yourself that it was okay— no big deal— and it didn’t matter if he found you annoying. No, it didn’t matter that the extremely attractive Texan man who hadn’t uttered a single word to you all day, found you annoying.

You’d been so lonely recently. So lonely. You’d kill for a friend. A partner. Someone. And perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up when you met Joel. You figured that maybe you could finally have someone in your life who liked you back for you, and didn’t want to use you or hurt you in some kind of unexpected way.

“I— I don’t mean to be annoying, y’know. I just— I’m sorry,” you murmured, rolling over onto your side and facing the other way from Joel. “Uhm— good night.”

Joel wasn’t a heartless monster. He wasn’t as cold and calculating as he let off to be, but he sure as hell wasn’t innocent and pure-of-heart either. He was a broken shell of a man simply trying to get by, and the way he saw it, he couldn’t afford the time or effort to make friendships or have partners or even anything more than an acquaintance. It just wasn’t on his radar.

And although he was certainly taken aback with how beautiful you were, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything he wouldn’t do with any other piece of cargo. This was a delivery, after all. A smuggle run. And he had to be professional about it.

But you were so— so beautiful. During the hours of hiking you and Joel did through the fields and forests, he often lagged behind you and consciously allowed you to take the lead when he thought it was safe to do so. Really though, he just liked to take a few seconds to admire you when you weren’t looking. You were funny and smart and although you couldn’t aim a gun to save your life, you might’ve been able to charm a Clicker away from you if you tried hard enough.

Joel enjoyed listening to you babble on, despite displaying no signs or signals to show that he had any interest in you. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression. He really did like you, but if he dared to open his mouth, Joel was certain he’d slip up and say the wrong thing or embarrass himself. And so to him, it was better to not say anything at all. However, his heart would warm when you would get bored along the way and start humming— and eventually singing. You were in no way melidous, but still, you weren’t trying to be. Joel wondered what it would be like in another universe where your lives weren’t constantly at stake. Maybe then he’d grow the courage to actually have a decent conversation with you.

But this wasn’t another universe. This was reality and Joel had lost all hope in humankind a long time ago. Joel allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts for a long time and by the time he’d snapped out of it, you were already fast asleep next to him, emitting light snores. He watched you, watched as your chest rose and fell with every breath. You looked so peaceful.

Truth was, Joel wasn’t entirely sure he could fall asleep here next to you. There was no way of telling if this forest was safe. Certainly he found it difficult to imagine there’d be signs of infected around but people? That was certainly plausible. Making sure his rifle was close enough to grab in case of an emergency, Joel took another glance towards you.

So goddamn pretty.

Joel didn’t know when, but at some point in the night, he’d gotten hard. Probably because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night. He felt like such a creep for watching you sleep, but even under the pearly white stars and the sunset orange embers bouncing from the campfire, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever saw. And he wanted you.

Now, Joel probably wasn’t as touch-starved as you were, but still, it had been a helluva long time since he last got laid. Without drawing his gaze away from you, he reached his hand down into his sleeping bag and dipped it into his boxer shorts began to pump at his already throbbing manhood. His eyes snapped shut at the shock of the thrill which raced through his body. There was something so erotic about doing this outside, with you laying next to him, unbeknownst to it all. Stifling a groan, with his free hand Joel gathered the material of his sleeping bag and squeezed it with pleasure.

The coarseness, roughness, of his hands was never ideal, but he had no trouble imagining the softness of yours. Your hands were a lot smaller than his, and your fingers were a lot thinner, and as he stroked his cock, his toes curled at the thought of you in between his legs, playing with him.

He hissed your name through his teeth as he begin to feel a knot tie in his lower stomach, indicating that he was close. God, he’d only been at himself for a few minutes and he was going crazy for you. You stirred slightly at the mention of your name but Joel wasn’t paying attention anymore. Now his eyes were shut and his entire body was tensed up as his hand movements became faster. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if he finished quick because the longer he touched himself, the more chance you’d wake up and discover him.

But for some reason, that only stirred Joel on even more. Of course, he wasn’t trying to wake you up, but there came a point where he was so enveloped in his own lustfilled thoughts, he didn’t even notice you whisper his name softly through the night.

“Joel?”

Briefly, Joel registered the sound of your voice but he thought nothing of it. So deep in thought— he was close. He moaned your name back.

You stilled, your eyes widening when your gaze dropped to his crotch and you noticed the movements of his hands underneath the thin material of the sleeping bag.

“Oh… Joel.” you mumbled, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you nimbly slipped out of your sleeping bag and quietly crawled over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, but between the tinnitus in his right ear and being so lost in his own thoughts, you couldn’t blame him. On your knees and by his side, you placed the palm of your hand on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, alerting him immediately.

His movements stopped and his eyes snapped open in horror, only to be met by your wide smirk.

“Hey cowboy,” you teased, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Shit.” Joel cursed, looking away from you. “I— you shouldn’t have saw me— I’m—“

You hushed him by placing a soft, chase kiss upon his lips. Joel froze and softened under you, completely feeling at ease under your touch. It has been years since he had been kissed. You hovered over him, finding his gaze in the dark before pressing a harder, more intimate kiss to his lips. Joel moaned underneath you and brought out his hand from under the sleeping bag, releasing his cock and bringing it to cradle the back of your head.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you giggled, unzipping Joel’s sleeping bag and bringing yours next to his, giving you both some kind of barrier between the grassy ground.

Joel’s belt was already undone and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

Still beaming, you straddled Joel, positioning yourself over his lap and continued unbuttoning his shirt before before peeling it off his torso and discarding it into the corner.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joel asked softly and his tone of voice took you by surprise.

“If I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t be grinding on you already, cowboy,” you giggled, thrusting your hips over the material of his jeans and getting a feel for his bulge.

Joel swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. Hastily, he brought his hands to your waist and guided you over his hips. You tossed back your head and let out a moan.

“Oh, I need you.” you whimpered, bringing Joel’s hands to your breasts and letting him feel the hard pebbles of your nipples under your t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Joel tugged on your shirt and you let him pull it off your body. He then smoothly unclipped your bra and let it fall off, before using his large, rough hands to cup and fondle your breasts.

“Joel,” you gasped, pushing back onto his legs and taking the hem off his jeans in your grip. “I need you,” you repeated. “Need you inside of me.”

Joel choked out a wanton groan at your words and nodded his head again. You took his signal as confirmation that he wanted this too, and tugged down his denim along with his underwear.

You removed your own pants and then sunk down ontop of him, sighing an air of relief when you felt the skin on skin contact. Joel adjusted himself and gave you a questioning look.

“I’m ready.” you whispered and leaned down, pressing your chest against Joel’s. Joel pushed himself inside of you and you tensed up, digging your nails into his shoulders as you adjusted to him. He was so big and thick, and yet he felt like he fit inside you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

Joel slowly thrusted upwards and into you, stretching you out. When you felt comfortable enough, you sat upright and rested your hands on his tummy.

“Show me how to ride, cowboy,” You urged. “You said earlier, it’s all in the hips? Show me.”

Joel looked up at you with wide eyes and extended his arms around you. He held onto you, and you felt like putty under his grip.

“Show me what you got, girl.” The handsome man demanded, his voice having dropped an octave.

You began to roll your hips over him, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut. “That feel good for you?” you taunted, letting a giggle escape your lips. Joel wordlessly nodded.

“Try— try circle your hips.” Joel requested, and immediately you changed your movements. You’d do anything to please him. You felt yourself get increasingly wet, making it easier and more comfortable to move freely. “That’s good.” he praised under his breaths.

“This is how you ride?” you enquired, raising an eyebrow as you continued to circle your hips.

“This is how you learn,” Joel corrected. “It’s all a process, baby girl. You go straight into the ridin’, you’ll get hurt.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed himself into you, the curve of his cock hitting you in just the right spot, You held onto him, gripping onto the broad of his back and this time, Joel kissed you. He yearned for your lips— for your affection. He dragged his tongue along your collarbone and planted sloppy kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and finally to your mouth. He slid his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entry, which you quickly granted him, and started to make out with you.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips, and he pulled off you, allowing you to speak. “I need more.”

“Think you’re ready for your next lesson?” he quizzed, pressing his nose against yours.

“Mhm.” you replied. “Teach me.”

Joel leaned back again and brought his hands down to your hips. “I want you to bounce on my cock sweet girl, show me what you can do.”

You grinned with excitement and began to move yourself up and down, grinding on his cock so you could feel every ridge and vein against your walls.

You felt yourself clench around him, indicating that you were close.

“Shit, like this I won’t last long.” Joel admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Me neither,” you replied, and began to speed up your movements. “Joel— please. Please cum inside of me.”

Joel panted, bringing his hands up to massage your tits. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, oh— please.” you begged him. “Please cowboy.”

With those two words, Joel spurted ropes of his warm seed inside of you, painting your walls a milky white. Feeling him fill you, you clenched one last time around his cock and let a blinding hot light envelope you as you rode out your own high.

You rolled off the man and laid next to him, catching your breath. “How was that? Did I pass the test?” you nudged him playfully.

Joel let out a laugh and you felt your heart flutter at the sound of him displaying genuine happiness. “You passed the test,” he chuckled. “But— there’s still plenty more for you to learn.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “You do make a pretty good teacher.”

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. “Sun will rise in a few hours, you should go back to sleep.” he hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, still in sheer bliss, and smiled.

You couldn’t believe that just a few hours earlier, you were so sure that Joel hated you.

You’d never been so wrong.

——— Taglist: ———

(I’m working on rebuilding a brand new taglist ever since returning to Tumblr. Let me know if you want to be added!)

@pedrosprincess

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #smut #tlou #the last of us

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phas3d · 11 months ago

Text

Roblox W/ Them || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: doxxing, bullying,

contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

summary :: how they play roblox because no way they don't play 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY

Grinds the shit out of every game he plays

He cannot enjoy a single game if he doesn't become rank 1 for at least one week

Really likes roleplay fighting games for some reason

Like Bloxy Fruit and stuff

Definitely wastes a ton of money on Robux and stupid stuff

He doesn't care that it's cheating, it lets him become #1 way faster

Doesn't really like tycoons and slow games

If he can't brag, how can he show off?

His character is SOOO try hard omfg

He definitely dresses in all black

1000% HAS RAGED AND BROKE HIS TABLE

Bought a new table after and took a break from Roblox for a week

TOM RIDDLE

Plays old people games like a grandpa

A fucking beast at Bingo

Even though it's completely luck base, he wins 9/10 times

Always has like 6+ bingo cards and can easily keep up with it

Plays tycoons every once in a while

But he likes the ones where you just press a button and it's auto built, doesn't like building stuff on his own

Like, he hates restaurant tycoon and rollercoaster tycoon

Never ever spends his money on Robux, he thinks it’s cheating

His avatar is the default one too with maybe some clothes he unlocked

Bullies the shit out of little kids on roblox for no damn reason

He could have 15 missing assignments and still find time to log on and dox some 12 year old

Whenever someone beats him at Bingo he finds their mom and dad's name and then private chat's them it

Takes everything so deep for no reason

Get this man to try weed or smth man he needs a new hobby

MATTHEO RIDDLE

This man has tried every single genre of games and has beaten almost everything

He's who Draco wants to be

Definitely spent way too much money on Robux for no reason

He has the headless stuff and almost every rare item ever

Has like 20k followers as well for some reason

Grinding never stops so he literally STOLE someone's house elf and makes the elf play Roblox all day

But the elf actually likes it and has fun playing it :) So it's cute

He ends up sharing his account with the elf and they become kinda like besties, but more so Matt sees him as a little brother

1000% like Tom he bullies little kids

He insults people's outfits, rates their little drawings and outfits super low, and straight up annoys them in any form possible

Sometimes he joins tycoons that have swords, doesn't even start his own tycoon, and just uses robux to get a sword and kill people

His daily mission is to annoy as many people as possible

Even worse is that he's not scared of getting hacked or doxxed because Tom made SURE that would never happen

Sometimes Matt even joins Tom's boring games but he leaves mid way cause he starts to fall asleep

Super fun to play with and will carry you 100%

THEODORE NOTT

This man, oh my god this man is so guilty of so much

He's one of those people who pretend to be a different gender online for benefits LOL

But not people he actually is transgender or nonbinary, but because he wants to do girly things without being judged

Always plays fashion games and WINS?!???

Even when the votes are super duper rigged, he always wins in the end

Plays a bunch of family roleplay games too as a mother of like 5 kids

Starts fake drama for fun, like favoriting one kid but ignore the other

OR he plays as a teenage girl and runs away LMAO

But his favorite game is definately Total Drama Island

This man will stay on the game for like 2 hours just to win

Super good at parkour and aim since he also plays shooting games besides Roblox, like Apex and Valorant (ewwww)

When he plays with the guys, they mock him for his girly ass avatar but he doesn't care at all

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Likes more calm games but is up to anything

Grinds tycoons a lot, like resturant tycoon and rollarcoaster tycoon

Sometimes he plays with Mattheo but they're so different

Matt finishes his level in like 2 mintues and Enzo takes an hour

Sucks at parkour, avoids it like the plague

Super bad aim as well, literally dies first every time

He likes playing with Theo a lot more since they can vibe and play a chill game

He really likes story tell games too which is fun

LOVES the games that aren't super roblox-y which is kinda cheating

Like he used to play the old Roblox Pokemon game daily until it got shut down :(

Plays those family games too like Bloxsburg and stuff

Is actually a good kid

BUT,,, he has his name has "Enzo (17) Cute, Smart, 6 feet tall, athletic, depressed"

thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

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warping-realities · 5 months ago

Text

Part of the Family

Hey guys, first of all this is the long overdue 1000 followers special and also the last story for a while. I'm warning you that it may not be to everyone's taste. There are sensitive themes in the middle and I wrote it more thinking about a horror story than anything else. I don't even need to say that I don't agree with the thoughts and ideas presented by the person responsible for everything who is a fucking psychopath who piously believes that his vision of the world is the only possible one. Anyway, I hope it's an interesting read.

Alexander couldn't believe where the hell he was at that moment. For the young New Yorker, visiting a small town in Texas was way at the bottom of his to-do list, just above getting his teeth pulled without anesthesia. But Abby insisted, and he eventually caved. They had been together for a few months, having met at college where they shared a common class in Columbia. Despite her hick name, Abilene Marrie Johnson, Abby had a sharp mind and a biting sense of humor, able to throw shade right back at his sarcastic remarks with ease, making him quickly fall for her. Not that the fact she was a hot blonde with a petite, well-proportioned body gets in the way. Even her terrible Southern accent was just a remnant of what it used to be, almost unnoticeable, though he still found himself grimacing when she let it slip. That was happening way too often since she arrived in her hometown, where her dad and brother worked in construction. How low-class was that? Not that he was about to say anything to his girlfriend, who was eager for him to meet her family. He didn’t share that anxiety; he could overlook her flaws, but being stuck with two ill-mannered troglodytes was out of the question. This was gonna be his one and only trip to this backwoods hellhole, and he was doing it just to please her—later, he’d make up excuses to avoid going through this crap again.

“A July 4th lunch in a community center… how… proletarian.” He commented condescendingly while looking for his girlfriend at the entrance of the old manor that served as the town's gathering spot. Watching the myriad of folks around him, from all sorts of races mingling just fine, surprised him since he expected a bunch of racist rednecks. What didn’t surprise him was seeing most of them wearing something with the American flag or at least some stripes and stars. Abby wanted to dress like that too, but he’d never let himself be seen with someone dressed so… tacky, to say the least. Independence Day had never been celebrated at his house; his parents were fierce liberals with anarchist tendencies, viewing the day as something hijacked by far-right conservatives who used patriotism to justify their anti-democratic antics. Not that any of them had bothered to vote in any of the recent elections. Seeing such a display of mindless patriotism made him think this day was gonna drag on forever. After a three-hour drive from Dallas to the place, he just wanted to find his girlfriend and get through this torment as fast as possible. He finally spotted her chatting with a hulking Southern dude, older than both of them, with that corn-fed hick boy look, prom king, varsity team… the whole package. He wouldn’t have given a damn if it weren't for the way she was talking to him—too damn cozy for his liking.

“Hum-hum.” He said, positioning himself next to them.

“Alexander, you made it!”

“How could I turn down your invite, even if it means hours of driving to such a… picturesque event? However, I had the impression that it would be a family event.

“May seem strange to you, city boy, but in towns like ours, community is important; everyone knows each other and has helped one another at some point, so we take every chance to be grateful to each other and to the country.”

Said the muscular blonde man who was with her, wearing a sweatshirt with the American flag on it.

“Alexander, let me introduce you; this is John Paul Sanders; he’s been my brother’s buddy for life, from school all the way to college. Now he handles the accounting for a bunch of businesses in Bushfield, including my father’s.

“So you’re the guy who finally won our Abby's heart? You’re gonna run into some pretty jealous dudes, she’s quite the heartbreaker.” The man said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, wanting to avoid looking arrogant, shook it only to feel his fingers crushed by the giant's hand.

“Guess you must be one of them.” He commented venomously while trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. Abby and I are cousins by marriage; my wife Susie is the daughter of Trav’s sister, Abby’s dad. Speaking of which, I gotta run, Abilene; Huck is being a handful; the little demon broke your aunt’s favorite vase yesterday. We’ll catch up later,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving without even glancing at Alexander.

“Interesting type; I imagine there’ll be more. And as much as he says he isn’t, I thought he seemed pretty interested in you.” He remarked as they made their way to the huge backyard.

“Babe, my house was practically a hangout for the football team; my brother’s friends basically lived there; JP and the others are like older brothers to me, and they all still see me as Tommy’s little sister; it’s natural for them to be jealous. Plus, he’s head over heels for Susie, who’s my best friend. Don’t worry about nonexistent stuff.” She said, caressing his arm.

“My dad’s probably in the back grilling, and my brother… oh, look, there he is.” Abby smiled at another blonde man emerging from a covered area full of tables where the crowd would likely feast later. Sporting a muscular, defined physique, with a five o'clock shadow and that dangerous but cute country boy vibe that certainly caught the eyes of many women, he quickly sparked disdain in Alexander. Did these types multiply by binary fission? The feeling of animosity seemed mutual, as the man’s smile vanished the moment he saw who his sister was with.

“Hey, Abbey Road! Looks like the big city hasn’t changed you one bit; I was afraid I’d find you with blue hair, unshaved armpits, and covered in piercings, with some feminist nonsense tattooed on you.” He said, hugging his sister without giving Alexander a single glance, who was taken aback by the nickname her brother used for Abby, as he imagined that a hick ogre like that would reference crap country music about driving tractors and screwing horses while drinking beer or whatever. Only to then be hit with a mix of disgust and rage at the guy's macho comments.

“Shut up, Tommy, you jerk!” Abby shot back, smiling, without really correcting her brother’s remark, then pulled Alexander by the hand and introduced him. “This is Alexander, my boyfriend.”

“Whats up, bro?” Tommy said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, reluctantly after the last experience, reciprocated the gesture only to feel his delicate hand crushed again as the giant flashed him a wicked smile before turning back to his sister.

“Can I ask what you’re wearing? Dad’s gonna flip if he sees you without a flag on; tradition is tradition, Abilene; I thought you knew that, but maybe the big city got to your head.” He said, glancing at Alexander, as if he knew exactly who to blame for that, before continuing. “I’ll call Angie to get you something from her place.” He turned and called a beautifull and very pregnant Latina woman who came smiling toward them.

“Abby! So good to see you! And you must be Alex; she’s been talking so much about you!”

“Alexander, my name is Alexander.” He replied, annoyed, since he hated any kind of nickname.

“Sorry, Abby called you that and I…”

“It’s all good, Angela, mi amor; why don’t you take Abby over to my place to change and let me and my brother-in-law get to know each other better?” Tommy interrupted, putting himself between his sister and Alexander, wrapping his giant arm around the smaller, skinnier man’s shoulders.

“Sure, I think if you guys chat, you’ll become great friends.” Abby said with a smile.

“I’m sure of it, Abbey Road; now hurry up.” Her brother replied, smiling, while his arm’s strength almost crushed Alexander. As soon as Abby and Angie left, Tommy finally released Alexander, looking at him with cold eyes.

“Speak to my wife like that again, and you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Texas… Xander.” He said threateningly.

“Believe me, that wish already exists… Thomas.”

“The name’s Tommy; I’m not some Thomas.”

“How curious, using the diminutive as a proper name.”

“I guarantee you, nothing about me is diminutive.” Tommy replied, flexing his muscular arm. “And you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

Ignoring the threat, Alexander continued.

“I just find the choice strange; your parents should’ve done the opposite and left Abby’s name in the diminutive. Where the hell did they come up with Abilene?”

“It was the name of my dad’s mom, so you better watch your mouth, kid. Actually, I think it’s about time you and my dad had a chat; come with me, city boy.” And he turned toward where he had come from. Not knowing what else to do, Alexander followed him.

“You know, Abby’s always had a weird taste in guys; all the guys on the football team from my time and hers would’ve done anything to date her, but she always preferred… well… people like you.”

The audacity of that hick!

“As far as I know, I’m her first boyfriend.”

“Yeah, exactly.” The other man replied with a mocking grin before pointing to a huge, gray-haired man working the grill, wearing only shorts and an apron with the ever-present American flag.

“Dad’s over there; good luck with that, city boy; you’re gonna need it.”

Tommy said, widening his grin and walking away, leaving Alexander to head over to his father-in-law by himself. Travis Johnson, a self-made man in the construction business, started as a laborer before opening his own company, a pillar of the Bushfield community, Abby’s dad, and apparently not too pleased with the figure approaching him, though he forced a stiff smile for the sake of his daughter when he saw Alexander coming.

“Good morning, son; you must be Alex; Abby’s been talking a lot about you.” He said, taking a long swig of beer.

“Same about you, Travis.” Alexander replied, not correcting his father-in-law on the nickname; he knew he was dealing with a man who wouldn’t take kindly to being corrected.

“Mr. Johnson, son; call me Mr. Johnson; calling me by my first name is an acquired privilege.” The man replied.

“Of course, Mr. Johnson; then I ask that you call me by my correct name; I’m Alexander, not Alex.” Since the old man was gonna act that way, he saw no reason to try to please him anymore; it seemed any chance for a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family was shot, and he wondered once more why he was such an idiot to come to this place.

“Of course, Alexander. We have a lot to talk about, but before that, you want a beer? The meat should take a while, and by tradition, women and kids eat first around here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson, but I’ll pass; I don’t drink anything alcoholic, and my diet is vegetarian.”

“Vegetarian? I see… But the beer is all craft, made right here; The Dubois Widow brews it on the family farm.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on that too, sir.” He said, thinking about contamination and the filth of the pigsty where the old lady probably brewed that horse piss.

“Fine, and I fear we’ll have to move on to more serious matters without anything to grease the wheels.” The father-in-law replied with a voice that was undeniably hostile.

…..

Watching the altercation from a distance was Tommy, sitting at a table with Diego Ramirez, his best friend, snickering at Alexander's pained expression.

“The kid’s shitting himself.”

“Poor city boy. Tommy, that boy wasn’t made for this; I don’t know what got into Abby’s head bringing a city slicker here.”

“Abilene’s always had strange tastes.”

“Hey, asshole, do I need to remind you I was her date to the prom?”

“Only because you were one of my best friends and she knew all her friends would be jealous seeing her with the most eligible bachelor in town.”

“Only because you and our other golden boy, JP, were off at college.”

“Still, it was that night that you and Betty hit it off, and Austin was born; you should thank me for making you take Abby to the prom.”

“Abby herself didn’t seem that grateful; thank God she went to college right after. Which makes me think, a pretty woman like your sister dating for the first time only in her junior year of college is a bit strange.”

“I told you, Abby’s always had strange tastes, as you can see.”

“Dude, your dad’s about to grill the yankee for the barbecue.”

“Would be a better use for him, but the kid’s so skinny he wouldn’t even make a decent serving.” They both burst into laughter, stopping only when a small, dark-haired boy about three years old came running toward them.

“Hey, big boy, come give your uncle Tommy a hug.”

“Austin, come here! Let me see that arm! One more minute and you’ll be bigger than me!”

“I can’t wait to put the kid in pop warner, but there are still two years to go; at least now he has Huck to play with, and Angela’s about to pop with the twins. You’re in for some rough nights, bro; if one’s already a handful, imagine two boys, especially if they inherit my sister’s temperament.”

“Don’t even get me started; if I didn’t love that woman so much… but that’s the burden of a man: providing for the family and understanding when the wife is going through tough times before she gets back to running the household. Speaking of which, how’s Betty’s situation with her mom? The Dubois widow is a tough nut to crack.”

“Imagine being her son-in-law, man. She won’t hear of selling the ranch, but since my father-in-law passed, things have been rough; the cattle and horses need care and Charlene’s not cut out for it, especially with the brewery to run, and Betty’s got our house and Austin… I try to lend a hand, but working as your dad’s foreman, it’s no cakewalk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve found a way to help.”

“You have the bussiness to help manage, a coaching gig at the school, and a pregnant wife with twins, Tommy; a wife who, by the way, is my sister and would kill me if I overloaded you with my problems.”

“Angela knows you’re like a brother to me, especially after we lost Mateo.”

“I know, bro, but think about it; she’s pregnant with twins, two boys; imagine the tension in her head remembering seeing me and him running around the house or playing ball with you and the guys and thinking that suddenly one of them could be taken from her?”

“That’s not gonna happen, Diego; but you know, I think the conversation got way too heavy for a day of festivities. Austin, your uncle Tommy needs a favor; go find uncle Hunter, uncle J.P and Huck for me.” He said, setting the little guy down before looking at his dad.

“Let’s have some fun.”

….

“What I want to say is exactly what I asked: what are your intentions with my daughter? Abilene may be in New York now, but she’s a country girl, wants to be a vet, and you, with all due respect, kid, you don’t belong here.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think it’s way too early for us to be talking about that, but when and if the time comes, we’ll figure it out.” Figure out way to stay far away from here, he thought without saying it out loud.

“You’re not getting it, kid; maybe in the big city things are different, but here we do things the right way. You came to my house with my daughter claiming to be her boyfriend without asking for my permission first, and you have the gall to say you have no plans for a future with her? No marriage or kids…”

“Oh, as for that, you can rest easy; I don’t plan on having kids.”

“Kid, what do you think you’re doing here? What were you expecting to get?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same… wow.”

He started to respond before being knocked over onto a table by two three-year-olds, with a good amount of cold sauce spilling onto his clothes and hair.

“Little brats! And you ask me why I don’t want to have kids… if I catch those little pests…” Alexander said angrily, getting back up.

“What’s going on here?” asked the biggest cop Alexander had ever seen, a gigantic black man about the same age as his brother-in-law. “Any trouble here, Travis?” He continued, his face serious, though with traces of a teasing grin on his full lips.

“Nope, not at all, Hunter. The kid just lost his cool a bit, that’s all.”

“I think so.”

“Sorry, officer.”

“We respect the kids in this town, kid, and you were talking about my godson and Travis's great-nephew, and the other one is Travis's son’s nephew.”

Alexander looked to the side and saw one of the brats on the lap of the blond ogre who was apparently married to Abby's cousin, and was staring at him menacingly.

“Let it go, Hunter; the kid just lost his head. Speaking of Tommy, where is he?”

“I saw him just a bit ago with Diego at a table a little further up, Travis.”

“If you could take the boy over there, he’s gonna need to clean up and change clothes.”

“Sure, come with me, boy.” The giant said, grabbing Alexander by the arm and dragging him like he was one of the kids.

“Be careful with that mouth of yours, boy; J.P. is a cool guy, but Diego is hotheaded and also the dad of the other of those boys you recklessly threatened.”

Alexander, dazed by the events and indignant about how he was being treated, but also fearing for his own safety, said nothing, allowing himself to be led by in diection of another giant, this one a Latino of the same age as the others. What the hell was in the water in this damn town that created monsters like that? He had no doubt that one day those little brats who knocked him over would grow up to be just as big as their progenitors.

“Hey, Diego, bro. Where’s Tommy? Abby’s boyfriend is looking for him.”

At that moment, the other man was chugging a beer from a pint that looked more like a jug that even one of his giant mitts couldn’t hold on to alone. He finished taking a huge gulp and passed the jug to the side before grabbing his own cup, letting out a loud burp, and bursting into laughter. How could Abby stand living with those kinds of people?

“Oops.” He said, wiping his mouth with his hands. “Tommy went to meet Angie and Abby to find out what’s taking them so long. If you want, I can walk you over there, man.”

“No, thanks; I think I’ll find my way on my own.” Alexander replied, making a disgusted face, finally breaking free from the cop and heading toward the front of the community center before anyone could stop him. He walked quickly, determined to find Abby and tell her he was leaving that place right then and there, and after that, they’d deal with it when she got back to New York for their senior year.

He only stopped walking when he saw his brother-in-law strutting down the street like he owned it, with an air of superiority and arrogance that, if Alexander had the slightest bit of self-awareness, he would’ve recognized as the same vibe he himself typically radiated when not caught in such an embarrassing situation.

“Hey, bro. The guys told me you were looking for me; looks like you’re in need of a little help.”

“I just want to find Abby.”

“Sure, she’s at my place with Angie; let’s head over there, clean up a bit, and I’ll lend you some clothes.”

“I can grab a clean outfit from my car.”

“Nonsense; I must have some clothes from when I was younger that should fit you; that way, we avoid ruining any more of your expensive threads if another accident happens.”

Not wanting to admit he was planning to bail on this place as soon as possible, Alexander opted to follow his brother-in-law to his house. Arriving at the place, a big and cozy house, Tommy asked Alexander to strip down to his underwear.

“Angie will kill me if I mess up her floor, man. Women, you know how they are, especially with pregnancy hormones…Wait here while I grab the clothes, and then you can take a shower.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention; she and Angie went to the house next door; Sara, Hunter’s wife, who you met a bit ago, is about to pop; she’s a couple of months ahead of Angie and couldn’t make it to the party today. But I assure you, Abby will be back soon.” He said, handing Alexander a towel. “Dry off with this while I get the clothes; once you’re clean, you can sit in one of the chairs.”

Alexander did as he was told and, feeling surreal, sat there in his underwear while waiting for his brother-in-law to return. After a few minutes, Tommy came back with a change of clothes, which he placed on the coffee table while heading for the kitchen.

“Take a look and tell me what you think.” He said while heading toward the kitchen and coming back with two cups of beer. “So, what do you think?”

“There’s no way I can wear this, man; it’s way too big for me, and I don’t wear tank tops.” Alexander said, holding up a tank that looked more like a sheet, along with a pair of shorts that would easily fit two of his legs in one of the leg holes.

“Why don’t you take a sip of beer, Xander?”

“I already told you my name…”

“We don’t poison our drinks; feel free to drink.” Tommy cut in, then took a sip from the cup he prepared for Alexander before bursting into laughter at seeing his brother-in-law automatically lift the cup to his lips and take a swig for the first time in years. The beer was cold and tasted just like he remembered from the few times he’d had it before.

“Good on ya, Xander. Isn’t it way better this way, acting respectful toward your hosts?”

Alexander was shocked at himself; why the hell did he do that?

“What… what?”

“Hush, boy. You’re about to listen; oh, how I love this part! You have no idea where you’ve gotten yourself into, city boy. You know, I made a promise to my mom a little before she passed; I’d do everything to protect Abby, and I’ve kept that promise ever since in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The things I’ve had to do…But why don’t you let me show you?” Tommy said, and suddenly Alexander found himself in another place, walking alongside Tommy wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in: ragged shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, pretty much the same thing Tommy was wearing. Up ahead, walking down the same alley they’d just taken to get to Tommy’s house, was a younger version of himself, all sweaty, shirtless, in shorts and running shoes.

“That’s me on summer break before my senior year in college in Knoxville; I got in on a football scholarship, but I didn’t qualify for the NFL mainly because of what happened a few months before this day you’re seeing. My best friend from school, Mateo, had just died in an accident, and that hit me hard. I couldn’t accept the injustice of the world; first, my mom’s illness, then a stupid accident; it felt like life was just out to punish me. But on that same day, life handed me an unimaginable gift.” He spoke as they approached the backyard of the same house they had just been at. Sitting out front on a bench was a figure that stood out from the rest of the place. An effeminate kid with long blonde hair wearing a feminine outfit—maybe a trans woman? Alexander tried to formulate a question only to realize he was completely unable to speak.

“Hmmm…”

“Let me handle this, Xander. That’s Dylan, one of those weird kids who don’t really know what they are; a rarity around here; you won’t find any of them in town today. I didn’t dislike him; he was polite and considerate, in his last year of school, and undoubtedly eager to leave a place like Bushfield behind once he graduated. Strangely, he and Abby formed a friendship even though she was three years younger than him, and if I could say anything in his favor, it’s that he treated my sister like she was his own. So understand, what you’re about to see was born from frustration and mourning; before this, I might have made a joke or two about the kid, but generally, we treated each other with a modicum of respect. But seeing him there, a dude who refused to be what nature intended, someone who was giving up his masculinity while Mateo, a real man, a warrior, my brother, had left this world, that awakened something in me—an incandescent rage. But not just that; look.”

“What are you doing standing there, fag? We don’t want someone like you dirtying our home and our image.” The younger Tommy said.

“Tommy, come on, that’s not how you…”

“Shut up, you little shit, you fake woman; how can it be that God takes the men and leaves something broken like you…”

“Tommy, that’s enough; you’re not gonna talk to me like that; I get that losing Mateo hit you hard…”

“Don’t you dare say his name with that filthy mouth, you queer… I wish you were like him so I could beat you up and not feel like I’m hitting a woman.”

And then it happened; for a moment, it seemed like Dylan was going to burst into tears, and then, in the blink of an eye, where he had been, was now an older man just past twenty, clearly of Latin descent, with well-defined muscles, a bit dazed for a moment.

“Mateo?” the younger Tommy asked.

“Hey, I miss him too, bro, but you’re talking to the other twin.” He said with a smile. Then the illusion shattered, and Alexander found himself back in Tommy’s living room, unable to move or speak, just thinking about the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

“And that’s how Diego came into my life; what a surprise it was to find out that to the rest of the world, he’d always been Mateo’s identical twin, and any mention of Dylan raised eyebrows and brought laughter; there’d never been one of those in Bushfield. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened, without getting any answers. It wasn’t until over a year later, when I was back in town working as an assistant coach at the high school, that the situation recurred. Abby was starting her junior year and got involved with a troubled kid; Hugo Lafévre had transferred from New Orleans and was the worst kind of troublemaker; he organized protests and rallies against everything I’d been taught to value; he was pro-abortion, anti-gun, and railed against what he calls police violence. He had zero respect for authority figures. I had to do something.”

Again, Alexander found himself in a scene against his will. This time, he was wearing a coach’s uniform, just like Tommy was now, as well as a younger version of he, talking to a young black kid who looked at him with a mocking gaze.

“I have no idea what my sister sees in you; you’re insubordinate and disrespectful.”

“You’re just scared of losing control; for people like you, it’s all about control.”

“Without control, our society falls apart.”

“And what’s the problem with that? It’s about time to dismantle the society you’ve built.”

“Then I think it’s about time you man up, kid.”

“We have very different definitions of what it means to be a man… coach.” The kid replied before breaking into laughter, not realizing the fury building in the older man, who seemed ready to pounce on him, but amid the laughter, the boy seemed to get scared, and puff; suddenly, the giant black man Alexander had met earlier stood before the two, resuming the laughter and speaking.

“… that’s style and lets my abs breathe, and you’re really gonna say anything against a cop, bro? Especially when you need my help to train these little troublemakers; I would’ve been a professional edge rusher if I hadn’t chosen to be a cop.”

“In your dreams, bro…” the younger Tommy replied, still dazed before the image dissolved again.

“It was the transformation of that little shit Hugo into my bro Hunter that made me realize what happened to Dylan wasn’t just a coincidence; I decided I was gonna explore these skills of mine. Slowly, I started hunting down the worst types in town, the punks, the deviants, and the insurgents, and turned them, one by one, into productive members of society. Abby, for her part, finished high school without getting involved with any other undesirable types. But then came her time to go to college; she could’ve gone to Austin or Knoxville, but no, she had to go to the Ivy League, Columbia! What a dumb idea, but my dad agreed, and I wouldn’t dare challenge him. Everything went well for a while, until her first summer break. She showed up here with some older, fat, scruffy dude, who smelled like weed, a wannabe poet who wanted people to call him Sartre; I didn’t even bother to find out his real name; it didn’t matter.

A new vision, quicker than the last. He and Tommy, dressed in Levi's jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots, watched a Tommy dressed exactly like them, who in turn was watching the man Tommy had described, clearly high, turning into the well-groomed blonde guy Alexander met that morning.

“And that’s how J.P. came to be, John Paul, get it? Bet you thought I was some dumb redneck, didn’t you? By then, I didn’t even need to think much to get what I wanted, and I always made sure to keep Abby’s boyfriends close to me because my sister has a knack for finding the most annoying types who end up becoming my best projects. Now you… with you, she outdid herself… with you, I’m gonna have a blast.” He said with a sinister grin on his face. “You can speak now; the last words of a dying man, or did the cat get your tongue?”

For a moment, it really seemed like Alexander was going to say something, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t words; a slimy piece of flesh he couldn’t tell if it was his tongue or something else pushed its way through his lips, prying his teeth apart in an unnatural way and slithering across his face like a giant worm. Soon after, he felt his abdomen contracting with insane intensity, while his face contorted and his skin burned and bubbled in a transformation much slower and more painful than those he had witnessed; not that he had time to think about that amidst all the agony. As the environment around him seemed to darken, only illuminated by the source of heat he had become. Then the pain in his abdomen became unbearable, and while he squeezed it, desperately seeking some relief, it felt like his hands were sinking and merging into the muscular fabric that had just moments ago seemed so solid. But it wasn’t just his abdomen; his arms and legs grew and bulged as he threw himself forward, trying to puke, only to feel his mouth stretch unnaturally wide, while his expanded body was drenched in sweat that seemed to evaporate instantly, only to be replaced by another torrent. Just like the pain began, it stopped, only to start again within his head; it felt like his brain was melting, thoughts, ideas, his very identity turning to mush. He didn’t even notice he now had well-defined abs and toned arms and legs or that his hair had gone from red to a dark brown almost black, while it was drenched in sweat. His physique was nowhere near the monstrosity that was Tommy and his minions. But that was about to change; as his mind emptied of any memory or sense of reality and he threw himself back, leaning against the chair, his arms grew to monstrous proportions, his abdomen became a brick wall, and his chest swelled, while a beard sprouted on him, and finally his thighs ballooned like cords of pure steel, and his calves achieved the angular form of someone used to pushing them through strenuous workouts, while his feet grew absurdly large, emitting a powerful funk that could only be rivaled by that coming from his armpits.

“Almost there, Zander, bro, almost there.”

Upon hearing that name, his head exploded with images, color, and sound, with memory after memory flooding into his mind in such rapid succession that if any trace of Alexander had remained, it would have been instantly suppressed. Then, much faster and more painlessly than when it began, it ended. Throwing himself back, the brute that had replaced Alexander was panting, grinning stupidly, staring blankly at nothing.

“Zander, man, you good? Why don’t you take a sip of beer to cool off?” Tommy asked with a seemingly concerned tone as the light returned to the environment, and the brute in front of him seemed to shrink a bit in size while the sweat that was pouring down his body became just a sheen on his bronzed skin, as he automatically lifted the cup of beer to his lips.

“Ahhhh, I really needed that, Tommy, bro. That was a rough night.” The man said with a grin.

“I can imagine from the screams of the chick you had in my guest room. And from your smell, you reek, bro.”

“Hey, the ranch was way out, and you know how my mom is. Plus, you gave me the key to your house and told me I could use it in case of emergency. Damn, I really stink.” He said, scratching his balls over the old, worn-out underwear he was wearing, lifting his hands to his nose and sniffing them before bursting out laughing.

“Man, an emergency isn’t banging every skank in town in my guest room; you’re lucky my dad didn’t say anything.”

“Uncle Trav doesn’t care about that.”

“Usually not, but it’s not a good idea to do that when his daughter’s at home.”

“Abby’s here? Fuck!”

“As if she didn’t know your habits, man. But I’d be more worried about the fact that you were supposed to be helping my dad with the barbecue and that your mom had to deliver the beer herself; if it weren’t for me and Diego helping out, I’m sure she would’ve stormed the house and dragged you out by your hair.”

“Damn, Zander Dubois, you’re a complete idiot! Man, I need a shower and some borrowed clothes!”

“And what do you think this is on the table, you moron? Don’t worry; we’re the same size.”

“And I didn’t know that? We’ve been borrowing each other’s clothes forever. So who’s the moron, college boy?”

“Get your ass in the shower already, you asshole; I’ll be waiting with a cold beer.”

Zander took a quick shower, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to wash away all the stink from the night before, but he didn’t care as much about that as he did about disappointing Travis; the man had been like a second father to him after his own dad died and helped him with the ranch’s organization while J.P. kept the bills in check. He’d never been the smartest guy, though he knew how to take care of the cattle and the horses, and had his mom’s talent as a brewer. Besides he was one hell of a hunk, of course, he thought while admiring the muscles earned from years of ranch work and playing football in school, the dream of becoming pro ruined by his father’s untimely death and the need to take on his responsibilities, not that he thought he’d have much chance of keeping a decent GPA. But that was all in the past; he had a good life, although his mom bugged him to marry and give her grandkids like Betty had already done, especially since he was the last single guy in his friends group. Worse of all he felt that call every time he played with Austin, the kid would be a hell of a player one day, maybe good enough to achieve what his uncle and dad couldn’t.

“Damn, you are a damn stud, Zander Dubois!” He gratified himself, admiring his muscles in the bathroom mirror before putting on the shorts Tommy had lent him.

“Thanks, bro!” He said walking in the living room and grabbing the cold beer cup Tommy offered him, taking a long sip, wiping his mouth with his hand, and letting out a small burp.

“Hey, Abbey Road!” Tommy waved to someone behind him, making him turn around startled. Only to find no one there.

“Asshole!” He said, punching his friend’s arm.

“You should’ve seen your face, bro!” Tommy replied, cracking up, with Zander joining in.

“That was a good one, bro.”

“Put on the shirt and let’s roll; my dad’s waiting!”

…..

“Sorry for the wait, Uncle Trav; I wasn’t feeling well.” Zander said, taking off his shirt and putting on an apron, if Travis Johnson was throwing a barbecue like this, he wouldn’t be the one to break tradition.

“How odd; you seemed pretty lively last night, Zander.” Travis said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about that; if I’d known Abby was home, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Don’t worry about me, but I gotta say that ain’t gonna win you any points with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ain't born yesterday, kid! I see the way you look at her, and all your buddies are already hitched while you’re still bouncing from bar to bar, hooking up with the first girl who crosses your path just to avoid any commitment.”

“I... I…”

“No need to say anything, son; I’d be more than happy to have you as a son-in-law; I’ve watched you grow up and I know what kind of man you are. But I gotta warn you, something tells me Abby's gonna show up here with some slick city boy who thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he came from the big city.”

“Uncle Trav, it’s almost time for her to finish college and she’s gonna be a vet; there’s no better place for her to work than here, have some faith!”

“I have faith, my boy, but a father’s heart doesn’t lie.”

“In that case, you can count on me and the guys to knock some sense into any city punk who shows up around here.”

“I know that, son. Now enough chit-chat; we’ve got plenty of mouths to feed, let’s get to work!”

In the afternoon, when everyone was well-fed and the booze buzz had taken over a good chunk of the minds present, Zander found himself in the spacious field next to the center, watching kids of all ages play while keeping an eye on Austin and Houston the twelve years old son of his older sister who lived with her husband in Fort Worth so his sisters and brothers-in-law could dance a bit in the hall. And when the not so little guy scored a touchdown in the middle of the fun and ran to hug him, he couldn’t help but feel emotional.

“It’s about time you had your own.” He turned and came face to face with Diego, who was waving and smiling as he watched his own son run over to Huck and J.P., who at that moment was teaching his kid how to hold the ball properly.

“You have no idea what that feels like!”

“Was it my mom or Betty who told you to say that?” He asked, even though he felt a longing inside to be part of that world, to have a little version of himself running around, taking care of the horses, tossing the pigskin in a packed stadium on a Friday night.

“Both!” Diego replied, laughing. “But the boys care about you too, man; what are you waiting for?” He asked as Zander watched Abby play with one of her cousins’ daughters.

“Sometimes we get so focused on something that we forget to see the bigger picture, bro!” Diego continued, turning Zander towards the dance floor full of young women, some sneaking glances his way. “A guy like you ain’t gonna have any trouble finding the right woman; I’ll keep an eye on Austin and Houston; you take advantage.”

….

After dancing with several of the single ladies at the party, Zander sat down to catch his breath while watching the ebb and flow of people, lowering his glasses and checking out a very interesting girl that passed by. Until a whistle startled him.

“Zander Dubois, was that you hitting on Caroline Matthews, a girl from a good family?” Someone said, placing a beer cup on his table.

“What??? Haha, hey Hunter, bro! I'm glad your shift is finally over. And unfortunally, the time to settle down comes for everyone. I want my kids to grow up alongside yours and the other guys’, having the same life I had.”

"So our lone wolf has finally decided to join the pack, thinking about adding a Dallas or a Knox to your mother's list, bro?" Commented Tommy approaching while bringing out snacks and dips and placing them on the table. "The rest of the guys are coming, they're just going to drop the boys off with their moms. We're going to have some boys time. Caroline Matthews then? She's hot, man. But I admit I had hopes between you and Abby."

"Me too, but it's like I said, you and Hunter are going to be parents soon, Huck and Austin are already growing up, I want my kids to grow up with them. And Abby..."

“I get it, man. I just worry about her; she’s always had a strange taste in guys.”

“Your dad mentioned he’s worried she might show up with some stuck-up city slicker.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That if some snobby city boy shows up here with Abby, you, me and the guys would take care of him, country man style.” Zander replied emphatically.

“Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you!”

“Dude, we’re family. And one day, Abby’s gonna find a guy who’s just right for her; I’m sure of it.”

“I believe that too, bro. And it’s gonna be someone just like you and me!” Tommy replied with bright smile.

#male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #corruption #mental transformation #race change #musclegrowth #gay to straight #my story

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restinslices · 1 month ago

Note

Angst Idea: Headcanons or one shot is up to you; but the idea of Bi-Han’s kid died awhile ago prior to the games events(probably do to a rival clan wanting to take out the next heir of the clan) and it fuels a lot of his resentment towards liu Kang and stuff. It’s not until he meets one of the versions of his kid from a different timlime( probably during Khaos regins or during one of the many invasion seasons) and he ends up desperately trying to connect with this version of his kid even if it’s not really his original version of them.

Oh this is delicious.

I'm writing this on the tumblr website so I can’t check the word count, soooo to prevent this from being stupidly long, Imma split this into two parts (if ya’ll want the next part).

CW: Angst, child death, non canon storyline

(He so damn fine. The red flags just looking like flags~)

Bi-Han knew he had his faults. He was ill tempered, dishonest, untrusting, held grudges, the list could go on and on. All those flaws disappeared when he was around a special someone, tossed in the wind and floating about, waiting until he was away from them.

He wouldn't blame anyone for assuming he'd be a strict father who took issue with everything his child did. He knew Kuai Liang and Tomas assumed he'd be just like that, only to be surprised when he proved himself to be the gentlest of souls when it came to his baby.

"Aw man!" The seven year old pouted as they kicked at a rock, "okay, you hide next and I'll try to find you!". Hide and Seek had been their favorite game for years now, for reasons he didn't know. He just chalked it up to one of the many things they found intriguing that he personally didn't care for. They covered their eyes with their hands, "one! Two! Three-!

Bi-Han's rough hands pulled theirs from their eyes, "playtime is over". He had already let them skip out on the last hour of their lessons. He had to be somewhat sensible and at least get them to bed on time. "We'll play again tomorrow"

"But I wanna play now"

"Yeah? Well-"

A gasp followed by a squeal left them, which honestly could've meant a number a things. Children were excitable by nature but he swore they had more energy than any normal child did.

"Daddy look!" his eyes followed where they pointed, eventually seeing…

A butterfly.

A butterfly?

That's what got them excited? "Isn't it pretty?

Not necessarily. It was just a butterfly. A little insect with wings. Whatever caused them to squeal, he didn't see it. But he also wasn't a child anymore. His mind had been reigned in by the reality of being an adult long ago, his childish wonder dripping out of him until there was nothing left. "It's a butterfly"

"But isn't it pretty?". He shrugged. "You don't like butterflies?

"I don't care for them"

"Why not?

"I just don't. Come on, let's go home"

His extended hand went ignored, his child instead choosing to slowly approach the flower the butterfly sat on. "I think you should start liking butterflies. They're small, but small things keep us happy". Ugh, what cereal box did they read that from?

"I'll considerate it" he said, trying not to sound as uninterested as he actually was. "Let's go home"

"Hey dad" you looked over at him, "I'm gonna make history when I'm Grandmaster. Wanna know how?

Hmm... Your intellect maybe? You'll be known as the wisest Grandmaster the Lin Kuei have had so far. Or maybe your strength. You'll crush the bones in someone's body without even thinking. Or maybe you'll be fast enough to kill 1000 men within the blink of an eye. Or maybe-

"I'm gonna be happy"

Happy? How would being happy make history?

"Grandpa was pretty grumpy sometimes. You are too. Maybe Grandmasters are always grumpy. I won't be though. I'm gonna be the very first happy Grandmaster. You wanna know how?". You fully turned to face him, arms outstretched "like this. I'll have open arms"

As smart as Bi-Han was, you had fully lost him by now. "Open arms?

You nodded, "yeah. That means I won't be all angry and violent all the time. I'll be kind. That's what I wanna be when I grow up; kind. I think everyone would be a lot more happier if everyone was kind. Everyone doesn't have to be sad and angry". The butterfly began to flutter away, catching your attention. "Maybe I'll inspire others to greet the world with open arms. You think I can do that?”

No. As harsh as it sounded, Bi-Han knew what you wanted was impossible. People would always yell, fight and kill. The world would continue to be ugly because that's just how the world was. There was no "greeting the world with open arms". That wasn't realistic. No Grandmaster was happy because being a Grandmaster meant carrying a heavy burden. You'd see.

But he couldn't tell you that. You looked too sweet and innocent, eyes full of light when thinking about a future that couldn't be.

"I think... " he began, setting his hand down on your shoulder. "I think you can do whatever you set your mind to"

That smile was worth the lie.

"Can we play one more round of hide and seek before we go home? Please please please? I won't even choose a super good hiding spot, and we can use the clap rules! Please please please please pleeeeeasssee?”

No! You need to get to bed!

"Alright, fine"

Dammit Bi-Han. Just one more round, then you'd be off to bed. Then he swore he'd be more strict with you.

"Close your eyes!”

Yeah yeah, he knew how the game went. He closed his eyes before covering them with his hands (because you always sword he was peeking if he didn't cover his eyes), then counted loudly. 1, 2, 3, he shouted each number until he got to 10. "First clap!”

Clap clap!

East.

His feet carried him while his eyes scanned the area. The faster he found you, the faster you could both be inside. He wouldn't admit it, but damn, he was tired. A mix of both physical and mental exhaustion, but he tried his best to hide all that from you.

"Second clap!”

He waited a bit.

Silence.

"Second clap!" he shouted louder. Still, all he got was silence in return. There was no way you didn't hear him. You always heard him when he called for you. "Clap or we're going home!".

More silence.

Then a ear piercing scream.

"DAD, HELP!”

You were a jokester, yeah, but this was no prank. You'd never play like this with him, and that scream, it was of genuine horror. It was a tone he had never heard you use before. A tone that scared the hell out of him, and caused him to run in the direction where he last heard you clap.

He kept running, calling out for you, heart thumping faster than it ever had before. A snake. Let it be a snake that frightened you. Or a spider. Anything but you actually being harmed. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”.

“DAD!”.

He was getting closer.

He could hear you crying.

All these stupid fucking trees were in his way. He kept having to finagle his way through them, which only added to his panic. Seconds wasted on trying not to run straight into one. “I’M COMING!”.

“DAD!”

“I’M-“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you. A nightmare. That’s what he wanted this to be. This couldn’t be real. You couldn’t actually be laying on the ground, blood seeping from the several stab wounds you had. How? He had just saw you!

Someone had been watching you. How hadn’t he noticed?!

“I have you” he ran to your side, heart tearing into two when he heard you cry in reaction to him sitting you up. “Daddy’s here. I have you”. Who would do this to you?! Who would attack a child just trying to play with their father?!

“I’m scared” you managed to get out in between your heavy breathing. So was he.

“Don’t be. I have you”.

“I don’t wanna die”.

“You won’t! I’ll get you home!”. You blinked, but it lasted too long. He had to get you home now! “Stay awake. I have you”. That’s all he wanted you to do. Just stay awake and let him get you help.

Your breathing changed almost at an instant. Your hyperventilating slowed, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. “Dad…”.

Bi-Han watched as you let out your last breath.

Your eyes were still open, but they lacked the warmth from earlier. They were lifeless now, no light in sight. A smile no longer graced your face. There was no talk of open arms. There was no big speech like there was in the books he read as a child. You were just gone.

“Baby” he whispered, “wake up. Don’t- this is an order from your Grandmaster! Get up! GET UP!”. He shook you with all his might, but the dead didn’t follow orders. He rocked back and forth, your blood staining his clothes, his forehead on yours, letting out the most gut wrenching sobs he had ever let out in his entire life. When his mother died, he was sad, but he was comforted by the fact that she had lived a beautiful and long life. You were so young. You still had so much of the world to see. Shit, maybe you actually could’ve led some unnatural era of peace. He didn’t fucking know. All he knew was that it would never happen now.

His baby was gone. His beautiful sweetheart with a laugh as beautiful as the clouds in the sky, was gone.

You were just a corpse now.

When Bi-Han found out that Liu Kang was the creator of this timeline, he wasn’t shocked like the others. He hadn’t seen it coming, but he felt something stronger than shock.

He felt rage.

As creator of this timeline, not only had he chosen to have the Lin Kuei remain mediocre, but he must’ve known that you would be killed.

“That’s not true” he tried to tell Bi-Han, “I am no puppet master. I had no idea that your child would die, and I didn’t plan for it to happen”.

“Then bring them back”.

“I can’t”.

Bullshit. He could do anything! He just refused to!

Liu Kang… he was the true traitor yet everyone was angry with Bi-Han?! He hadn’t meant for Sindel to die, but why was everyone upset by her death? What about his child? No one demanded justice for them! Even when their death was fresh, all these people who cried for Sindel, their “allies”, did nothing. Liu Kang could’ve burnt their rival clan down to the ground, but no! Bi-Han had to carry the weight of his grief, and somehow think straight enough to make a plan of attack. When he looked up from your corpse and spotted the pendant of his rival clan nearby, gods, he wanted everyone to die. And Liu Kang had the nerve to advise him to think on it first?! No!

“The innocent men, women and children-”

What about his child?!

That grudge was the wind beneath his wings, carrying him away from everyone he once called an ally. But it also carried him to what appeared to be his own destruction.

He was in an unfamiliar timeline now, woozy from the fight he was just in. Fine, maybe he should’ve made a better decision, but at least he was doing something! Liu Kang would probably have him be inactive as always!

But now he was in an even worse spot. In unfamiliar lands with a madman ranting about his need for anarchy. Black tendrils with sharp points came closer and closer to Bi-Han, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid.

Then, there was a noise. A clattering on the ground.

Before Titan Havik could react, a sudden wave of ice filled the nearby area, freezing anyone with their feet touching the ground. Ice crawled up the nearby machines, but thankfully it didn’t stick the way it did to flesh.

“Move move move!”. Ugh, of all variants, it had to be Jonny Cage?

Johnny Cage in a military uniform? He needed a nap.

“How long do those bombs last?” Johnny asked, rushing over to Geras and freeing him from his confines.

“Long enough for us to get out of here!”.

That voice…

He was upside down, but he could still recognize the child approaching him. He heard that voice in his dreams and nightmares. Of course he’d recognize it.

“Hi dad”.

His baby.

TUMBLR PLS STOP DELETING RANDOM SHIT! THIS IS SUCH A RANDOM ASS GLITCH-

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #Mk1 angst #mk1 x reader #mk1 oneshot #mk1 bi han #bi han #bi han sub zero #bi han angst #Subzero angst #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han mortal kombat #subzero x reader #subzero mk1 #sub zero

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alphabetatoes · 9 months ago

Text

a.n.: part 5 (?). in the jjk!wild west au. first time writing for sukuna ✋😔 this is 1000% inspired by johnny cash

c.w.: mdni, 18+, language, sukuna is a warning in and of his own

“what’s a sweet little thing like you doing out at an hour like this?” is the first thing outlaw!sukuna ever says to you. he watches over you, staking an unnamed claim as you walk unbothered along side him.

you roll your eyes at him as you deliver your family’s produce to your neighbors. and the way your ass is all too perfectly sculpted in those boot cut jeans makes outlaw!sukuna harder than he’d ever care to admit.

yet outlaw!sukuna still finds himself stroking his cock and imagining your plump ass taking solitude over it. picturing how he’d let his hands bruise into your waist, stamped with the memory of your time together.

but he knew he’d seal his own fate getting with you. as the child of the towns greatest dynasty and family friend of the deputy sheriff, for outlaw!sukuna, thrusting up into you burnt in a sickly sweet way.

you found yourself in a rebellious era, finding solitude in the unknown. and outlaw!sukuna was just the antidote you needed.

and outlaw!sukuna wallowed in it, cuffing over your mouth as you moan out his name in pleasure. it’d spell trouble for the both of you but damned you’d be if you didn’t let that son of a bitch know how good he’d make you feel.

“fuck, doll. such a naughty girl and so, so good for me.” outlaw!sukuna whispers in your ear. you’re only able to manage out a whine, marinating in the way his cock hits just the way you need it to.

the second you say “feels too good, ‘kuna!” as he ruts deep into your pussy, outlaw!sukuna is a man done for. while he’s one to take the lead, hearing your moans makes him want to fold into a million timy pieces.

“such a filthy fucking slut. my fucking slut.” outlaw!sukuna praises, knowing he’s approaching his own end. you melt into him, reaching your high as you cum all over the town bad boys cock.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #divider by saradika

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visionarymode · 1 year ago

Text

Acknowledgement

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: roman reigns x female reader

✧ word count: 2,397

“Y-yes my tribal chief.” Paul fearfully stuttered as he got up in a hurry and left the room as he obeyed the tribal chief’s orders. Roman let out an annoyed and impatient sigh as he glared at Paul with those piercing evil eyes. The screen transitioned into the crowd as AJ Styles’ entrance music hit with the bell ringing to indicate the start of a new match segment. was sitting at the mini table backstage as she just finished watching Roman on TV in his backstage segment for the night. She loved watching him in character because he was so damn brilliant at what he does. There was truly no one like him. Not to mention his incredible dedication and sexy execution of his character…the tribal chief. Roman was the perfect man but my god, something about the tribal chief just made her want to jump through the screen and as he always says, acknowledge him, in many different explicit ways she could imagine. She sat there as her sexual frustration built up not being able to forget that segment or his fine self. you know what? She thought to herself. She grabbed her phone and got up to walk down the hallway. She was about to send him a text before she abruptly bumped into someone.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry-“ she stopped to notice who it was. Paul Heyman.

“Someone’s eager to get to her destination.” he joked as he crossed his arms raising his eyebrow. Oh, he has no idea…

“I just tend to walk fast Paul that’s all!” she giggled as she crossed her arms as well. “Is he still in his locker room?” she questioned as if he’d know the answer.

“Yes he is. he has some free time before our next segment in about half an hour.” he patted my shoulder as he continued to walk past her.

“Thank you Wiseman!” she called out jokingly. She continued her walk until she stopped to read what was in front of the door to her right. Roman Reigns. finally.

She left two quick little knocks on the door before opening it to see him lying up comfortably on the black leather couch scrolling through his phone. He looked up and immediately put his phone down as he flashed his pearly whites smiling in response to her presence.

“Hey baby.” he greeted her as he got up from the couch.

She locked the door behind her and she started walking towards him to embrace him. He picked her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. She giggled as she broke away to look at him. He looked so fucking sexy. When did he not though? His hair was slicked back in his usual bun, and his thick salt and pepper beard glistened from the oil he put on it to make it shine. He was wearing his 1000 days t-shirt with his track jacket over it zipped down.

“What?” he chucked.

“Nothing you just look so…fucking…sexy.” she paused after each word to peck his lips.

“Yeah?” he seductively mumbled against her lips trying to slide his tongue into her mouth. She granted access as she sucked on it. she broke the kiss for a split second to respond.

“Yeah…”

“You’re so…fucking….beautiful.” He mimicked her actions pausing after each word to leave sloppy kisses on each side of her neck.

“Mmm I was watching your backstage segment and I don’t know. Something about the tribal chief makes me so horny…” she whispered in his ear.

“Ahhh I see. You wanted to pay the tribal chief a visit huh?” he asked as he moved his hands from her waist down to her ass and grabbed a handful.

“I just wanted to stop by & acknowledge you properly…”

He lifted his face from her neck to look at her and smirked. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he sat her down on the leather couch. He leaned in to lift her chin and kissed her slowly and passionately. He rubbed her thighs up & down without breaking eye contact as he licked his lips admiring how beautiful she was.

She could feel her panties get more and more damp with each motion of his hands.

“The tribal chief really appreciates you putting time aside for him.” he professed.

His rubbing turned into massages as he slowly moved his way up to her thighs spreading them slowly apart.

“Oh does he now?” she asked playfully, but was screaming on the inside as her breath hitched in her throat.

He left sloppy kisses all over her inner thighs before he stopped abruptly and noticed how wet she already was.

“Mmm look at you…” he muttered under his breath as he swiftly ran two fingers down her panties.

“I haven’t even touched you yet…” he stopped mid-sentence to run his tongue over her damp panties.

“…and you’re already dripping wet for daddy.” His eyes remained on hers as he grabbed her panties with his teeth & slowly ripped them off of her. If she could, she could cum right this second.

“Tell me how much…” he spread her folds apart as she felt his breath on her wet pussy.

“…you acknowledge me.”

“I acknow-“ Before she could finish her sentence she gasped as she felt his thick tongue swirl over her clit.

“What was that baby?” he mumbled as he lapped his tongue up and down steadily yet slowly as he stared her down. She let out a moan that couldn’t be prevented and that was his cue to cover her mouth with his hand as the other pulled her right thigh over his shoulder to pull her closer. She managed to moan louder than before despite his hand being over her mouth as he ate her out like it was his last meal on earth. She suddenly felt him pull away which caused her to drop her jaw as she panted in frustration.

“Wh- why’d you sto-“

“Shhhh. Who told you you could question the tribal chief huh?” he glared at her not to the point where she felt hurt but to the point where she was heavily turned on. She shook her head as she understood what he was doing. he wasn’t gonna break character. damn, he’s so good.

“Or are you gonna be a good girl and do what daddy says?” he asked raising his eyebrows. She nodded her head eagerly so he could just put his mouth back on her needy and aching pussy. He set her thigh back down on the couch as he pulled his shirt over his head exposing his chiseled and tanned body. His tattoos on his pec & right arm were in full view as she bit her lip yearning for him. He grabbed her hand to pull her upwards in a seated position inches away from his face. He rolled up the shirt and stuffed it in her mouth.

“Since you can’t control yourself this is what we gon' have to do huh?”

Their eyes stayed locked for what felt like an eternity before he gently grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back on the couch.

“Now be a good girl and let daddy eat his pussy.” He dragged her legs towards him in the quickest motion and folded her so her knees were touching her shoulders. He kept his eyes on her as he let a long drop of spit slowly fall into her pussy. She was holding onto the back of her knees whimpering into the shirt that was stuffed into her mouth just moments ago so he could work on her. He used two of his fingers to spread the saliva along her entrance before he slowly slipped those same two fingers inside of her. They both moaned in unison as she was falling apart from pure pleasure. He started pumping his fingers in and out at a faster pace. Her muffled moans were growing louder and practically matched the same speed of his fingers. He licked her clit before he started sucking on it as she was on the verge of her climax.

“Look at your pretty pussy soaking for me. you gon’ cum baby?” he asked licking his lips as he continued to finger fuck her. Her eyes were shut and her head fell back on the head of the couch as she struggled to form any words. He removed his shirt from her mouth and questioned her again.

“Speak up baby. what’s my name?”

“Ro-roman…” she was seconds away from releasing as she felt his fingers slow down the pace and tease their removal from inside her.

“Nah…try that shit again.” he softly demanded. Then the lightbulb popped in her head.

“my- my tribal chief…oh fuuuuuuuck…” she cried out as she came all up in his face as he sucked and licked every ounce of her juices making sure there wasn’t a drop left. That earth-shattering orgasm made her moan so loud that he had to bring his hand back up to clasp her mouth while he cleaned her up with his tongue. She was panting heavily as he lifted his face from in between her thighs licking his wet lips with the biggest smirk on his face. His beard was glistening but this time it wasn’t from the beard oil, it was from her.

“Mmm there you go baby.” he praised as he winked at her. this majestic motherfucker. holy shit.

“Now…” he started to say as he wiped her leftover cum off the corners of his mouth and sucked it off his thumb. He got up from the floor and took a seat next to her. He spread open his legs and rested his arms on opposite sides of the couch.

“Your turn baby.” he winked while flashing his smug grin.

She felt like she needed a breather after he just completely wore her out. She expected to come in here and finally pleasure him first for a change but he was never one to not pleasure his girl first. It was always his main priority whenever they got intimate. Making her cum before she could return the favor for daddy.

She slid off the couch and got on her knees struggling to make eye contact because of how flushed and nervous she felt not only by his presence but by that insane fucking orgasm. His sweats and boxers slid off together as his long, hard, and pretty dick sprung up ready to be devoured. She felt her inner thighs getting hot once again as she prepared to take him all in & pleasure the fuck out of the tribal chief. He cupped her jaw as she was forced to meet his gaze.

“Now be a good girl. open that pretty mouth and acknowledge me,” he ordered in a low voice. She quickly obeyed and started slowly stroking his shaft with one hand. Her tongue met his tip with a slow lick before swirling around it savoring his pre cum as he let out a low groan from her captivating eye contact.

“Mmm say it…”

“I acknowledge you, daddy,” she whispered before wrapping her lips around his tip and putting as much of him in her mouth as she could. She kept her eyes on him while sucking as his mouth slightly fell open with his head falling back. He was holding up her hair with his right hand in a slightly tight grip but she didn’t even care. She loved that he was in this vulnerable state as she had all the control to make him completely convulse and let go in her mouth.

“Fuck baby just like that…take daddy’s dick like the good girl you are…” he struggled to finish his sentence as he groaned in pure satisfaction.

She studied him as he let out shaky pants while his left arm gripped the back arm of the couch so tight that his knuckles were turned white. She liked seeing him completely fall apart slipping out of character due to her mouth driving him completely fucking insane. Her mouth & tongue quickened the pace as she moaned around his length. He struggled to stay still and bucked his hips forward wanting her to take it all. His dick was so thick and big that she started gagging because of the struggle to fit it all in her mouth…but she didn’t give a fuck. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying fulfilling the tribal chief’s desires.

“fuuuuck I’m cumming baby…” he groaned as she felt him getting close with tears prickling in her eyes from gagging on his dick. He gently pulled her hair back to take her off him and he let out a low moan as her tongue flicked on his tip once again. He quickly came down from his high to recover and immediately channeled his dominance.

“Open that pretty mouth for me baby girl,” he ordered as he jerked himself with his left hand.

She obeyed as she opened her mouth & stuck out her tongue keeping her eyes locked with his. He hummed and licked his lips and came all on her tongue as it dropped to the back of her throat. Droplets of his cum landed on her chest as they started swirling down to her breasts. He smirked at the sight of his mess all over his princess.

“Swallow for daddy…” he instructed in a deep whisper.

She obeyed swallowing every last drop of his seed. He wiped the leftovers on the corner of her mouth with his thumb and grazed it over her lips.

“Say it,” he whispered slowly sticking his thumb in her mouth not taking his eyes off hers as she sucked it off and removed her mouth from his touch with a final slow lick.

“I acknowledge you…my tribal chief,” she responded with a raspy voice. He gestured for her to come sit on his lap with the flick of his finger. She was face to face with her man as he pressed his tongue flat on her chest licking up what was left of her neck and leaving soft kisses. He cupped her face as their lips were inches away before he praised her with the words she melted for once again.

“Mhm. that’s my good girl.”

---- thank you for reading! this is the first fanfic i’ve written so i hope y'all liked it :)

you can read more of my fics here ❤️‍🔥

tag list: @harmshake @cyberdejos2

#wwe #roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #head of the table #the tribal chief #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x y/n

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honoviadakai · 1 year ago

Text

Rating the Hazbin crew based on how well they’ll take care of you when you’re sick 🤒

Charlie🎶🏨:

8/10

So letting Charlie know you’re sick might actually be a bigger health concern for her than it is for you

She’s gonna act like you’re dying

She legitimately might make Razzle and Dazzle plan for a funeral

You are now gonna be on house arrest

Scratch that

You’re on bed arrest!

No getting up under any circumstances! 😤

She’s wait on you hand and foot till you’re 1000% better

She’s gonna be overbearing but in her defense, she REALLY doesn’t want you to suffer/die so please just bare with her

She just wants you to recover asap ;3;

Vaggie🗡️🦋:

7/10

Ok so on one hand…her chicken soup is pretty good

On the other hand…she’s a very “tough love” kinda gal to anyone who isn’t named Charlie Morningstar

It dose not help that she’s canonically Latina…

All my fellow Latinos know, if you get sick…you get the vaporub

And that is probably something Vaggie still firmly believes in

“Just rub some raporub on your chest and nose and walk it off, you’ll be good in no time!”

Said every Latino parent in history….

She’s probably never had to take care of many sick people in her human life, let alone her afterlife in hell

Cut her a bit of slack and just use the vaporub, she’s trying damn it!

Alastor🦌📻:

-12/10

N O

WHY WOULD YOU EVER COME TO THIS MAN FOR MEDICAL HELP!?!

Do you have a death wish or something!?

Best case scenario, he’ll help you but your soul is gonna be on the line for a while!

Worst case scenario, he’s just gonna let you suffer

And I don’t mean that he’s just gonna leave you to sleep in your room

No no no, that too boring

He’s gonna make sure no one else in the hotel knows of your predicament and he’s gonna watch you struggle and laugh at your misery…

For the love of all that is good in the universe…don’t let him know you’re sick…ever.

Angel Dust🕷️💕:

6/10

Listen…he’s not the worst option….but you do have better options

The problem asking Angel to help you when you’re sick is that you’re sick…

You’re gross…he doesn’t want not on his fluff

But if y’all are very close…

Like besties or lovers? That changes the game

He’ll cuddle you, no questions asked

So it really depends on who you are to him how much effort he’s gonna put in

He’s also kinda forgetful

For example, if you ask him for a cup of tea, he’ll absolutely go brew a cup for you

But you better pray that nothing and no one distracts him!

Cuz otherwise just forget about having hot tea or tea in general…

He’s pretty shit at remembering to take medication at certain times too so I’d set multiple reminders

Even then…might not help much…

He is a pretty good cook though so rest assured, you will be very well fed during your recovery period

Husk🐈‍⬛🥃:

10/10

Will this crusty old man complain about having to help you? Yes.

Will he bitch and moan every time you ask him for another cup of tea? Absolutely.

Will he curse under his breath while holding your hair back as you puke your brains out for the 10th time in the past 24 hours? Without question.

But he’s still fucking helping you

He can say whatever the hell he wants, he’s waiting on you hand and foot till you’re better of his own volition

He’s out here making some of the best damn soup you’ve ever had he’s gonna make sure you finish every last spoonful god damn it!

If you gotta take medication on a schedule, best believe he’s setting multiple timers

You’re also taking all the naps you need, no arguments! 😤

If you ask, he will cuddle you, but he will make you swear on your mother’s grave that you won’t tell a soul he did that for you

He’d rather chop his arms off than admit this, but he is genuinely worried for you and just wants you to recover

You did not hear that from me though 🤐

Niffty🪡🐞:

5/10

Oh she makes some of the best soup! 🥣

Her home cooked meals are delicious

Honestly the best part of having Niffty taking care of you is just how well fed you’re gonna be 🥰

But this is Nifty we’re talking about…

So she’s gonna be….Nifty….

She’s gonna hover uncomfortably close to the bed while you rest…

Just…watching you…

She’s not even trying to be creepy or anything

She’s just making sure you’re ok

But like…she’s starting a little too intensely at you…not blinking even once…

She’s just waiting to see if you want tea or something tbh

She just forgot you’re supposed to blink

She’ll also just watch you sleep

Not sure why…she just does

If she’s feeling ✨spicy✨…she miiight give you some questionable medicine…

Like, medicine she found in Alastor’s room….

Please get an actual doctor 🙏

Sir Pentious🐍🥚:

2/10

Just…no

Get an actual doctor

Please!

He means well

He really does!

But this man died in the Victorian era!

Don’t let a man with medical knowledge form the Victorian era help you!

He will use leeches on you!

And that’s the best case scenario for you!

And for the love of all that is good in the world, do NOT let the egg boys help!

They all share a brain cell between them and I don’t think any of them is ever fully away of where it is at any given moment

They’re likely to take one look at you and think the best way to reduce your fever is to stick you in an ice bath…for hours….

Go to an actual doctor if you wanna keep your ability to breathe. Please.🙏

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #Vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #Angel Dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk #husker #hazbin hotel husk #niffty #hazbin hotel niffty #sir pentious #hazbin hotel sir pentious

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soraviie · 2 years ago

Text

you're oblivious.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ masterlist

━ about: fluff + crack ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: lowkey inspired by a video of Hoseok being oblivious to BTS. Literary wise is not that complicated but it's humourous

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON:

sAVE HIM

Literally

He’s struggling so bad bro it’s not even funny

Fights the battle against your ignorance on two sides

By night, he’s your suave secret admirer, leaving behind finely crafted letters of adoration that would put the brightest of the Romantic Age into a second grave

By day, he’s fucking shitting himself

Knees weak, palms sweaty, mom’s spaghetti

“This is made of silk,” he tugs at his own shirt during a short elevator ride

“Hmm,” comes your reply and from the gleam in your eye, he might just bear this suspicion you’re orbiting Mars right now

Alas he can’t stop

Because Holy SHIT! You’re here! Hi!

(truthfully, in the beginning, he was somehow much more put together, wowing you with sleazy smiles, breathy laughs and all the glory of that fuckboy gene that sleeps somewhere in his DNA but after that flew over your head and he listened to a podcast about the scarcity of sincere romantic gestures and the respect of polite admiration, the attempts to seduce you grow exponentially worse with time)

“It’s not velvet because it doesn’t feel velvety. Or tweed. Because obviously, it’s not…tweedy.”

“I see,” you conclude, dead to the world. “Have a nice day, Mr Kim.”

Watches you leave, bites on his fist, bites on his shirt, sulks the day away

plEASE just let him talk to you, I beg

Wants to hear your opinion, your insights, what you like and dislike, everything

Thus he tries to break the ice by initiating the dumbest subjects

“Grape?” he leans against the table, a total playboy. “Thoughts?”

“Of a singular grape?” you clarify

He sweats. “yEah.”

“None,” you reply flatly

So think a teenage boy with a crush but more wholesome

If he’s ever seen talking to you and/or trying to subtly touch you (which is another thing on its own) know that the last twenty minutes were spent shitting, screaming, vomiting

Ah! The Touching!

Tries to be subtle and casual - a hand over your shoulder because of some vague reasons, plays with your clothes a lot while pointing out this looks pretty on you

HAND! ON! LOWER! WAIST!

The excuse is he’s just guiding you where you need to be

And where you need to be is in his arms

And his bed he's actually so horny for you damn checking out left and right and then feeling conflicted over it because as a man...!

All this circus is, of course, detrimental to everyone’s mental health

It is deeply painful to watch

Yoongi probably goes around citing the long-term health damage this inflicts upon him

In the end, Namjoon is ousted by someone in the group. Anonymously but still the e-mail “Go out with Namjoon, he’s the one writing the letters. You have 24 hours.” is accompanied by “sent from Jimin’s iPhone”

YOONGI:

What have you done

You’ve created a monster!

When the saccharine first stage of catching feelings is gone with no results, honey boy, shyly twitching and squirming at every sentence, smiling softly at you in the distance, is no longer

This is Min Yoongi a.k.a. Agust D a.k.a. don’t wear converse a.k.a. the infamous Tokyo deliverer

Because, yes, Yoongi is not the stone-cold bastard everyone thinks he is, he’s actually a caring, considerate man interested in the simple life not the grand scheme of the universe

But you must remember - what Yoongi wants, Yoongi gets

You’ve ever seen shameless Min Yoongi?

Lord

He will not give a single shit

Will sit in your lap even with 1000 chairs available, invites you to dinner all the time with some handwavy excuse

Turns into his version of a whore (wears one layer instead of three)

(tight, white t-shirts displaying the Min Buffgi agenda, hello)

Points at a tattoo parlour and says you should get each other’s names engraved then he sort of laughs but does he??

Has created a ship name for you and does bring it up at any moment he pleases to be fit which is coincidentally all the time

Definitely says “this is because I like you” in passing

But all in all, you can sEE it in HIS EYES!

They sparkle!

Requests your presence like a tyrannical king if he’s feeling down

Gives you probably weirdly affectionate names like “heater” or “vitamin water” meaning you make him warm and energized

Sorry, he just can’t get anything like “honey” past his lips so “solar panel” it is

To keep you around him longer plays his favourite version of the game "two truths one lie" which is "all lie, pure shit"

Basically says the most blatantly untrue shit so you would sit and debate that coconuts in fact do not migrate due to birds

Sometimes he's still not up to talk and wants to just submerge himself in the music but even so, oftentimes he's okay with you chilling on the couch doing your own thing

Basically having a crush for him means wanting head pats and then doing the absolute most to receive them (while taking good care of you in turn)

JIN:

Clings

He doesn't usually do that so that's how everyone knows something's up

Back hugs because it’s cold, back hugs because it’s warm, it’s raining in Madagascar, he doesn’t care

Paradoxically, says the most ego-inflated things whilst sweltering red like a forest fire

“Look at me, haven’t I passed even my normal rate of attractiveness? I’m definitely 12 today,” says he whilst pushing hair out of his forehead, thus showcasing the flaming ears

He will NOT! have anyone embarrass him during this crucial time!

If any one of these degenerates opens their foul fucking mouth to spill the practice conversation he had between himself and the mirror, he will kICK THEM INTO THE SUN!

Lame, couple puns

All the time

Neverending

He has to rehash them after a while

Really wants to make you laugh :(

Wants your compliments so bad, he's fishing for them every second of the day

hehe fishing get it because he likes to fish

“Doesn’t this shirt match my hair?” he asks

“Hmm. You look like a grapefruit.”

Turns away in shame, palm over mouth

Definitely hands RJ so you could watch over him

It’s his child so he wants only the most elite care and seeing you play with the plush has him melting in heart-shaped goo

Ooo! Smooth Jin has entered the station! He’s boarding the train! Look at him go!

Whispers in your ear, establishes his dominance over the seat next to you, makes up the most random bullshit for you to touch him - can you adjust this, adjust that, could you help him brush his hair etc.

Oh, and if you don’t take proper care of yourself, he activates his strict care mode

You know those moments when Jin becomes The Eldest? Hot

“All life is precious,” says with a frown but one born out of worry standing in front of you, arms on hips as you sit there with your head hung low. “Your’s even more so don’t be careless with it.”

But after scolding he treats you either via food or by saying he's just worried for you

Definitely offers to do something for you and throws fake tantrums about it

"Ah, __________, I can't believe you're making me pay for this meal!"

"I'm not ??? I can pay for my own share if your rich ass is so stingy."

Pouts to the max -

"Yah, you don't think I can take care of you?! Yah, you're underestimating me. Oh, ____________ you won't be underestimating ever again!"

HOSEOK:

Doesn’t embarrass himself quite as much as the rest

He’s actually kinda chill about it

Perhaps because he’s been the oblivious one in the past and he’s reserved himself

And he doesn’t want to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable

One word that comes to mind - solid

(not that, you pervert)

Trustworthy you know

Offers a ride everywhere whenever he can especially from home to work and back

Do you need something? He’s got it. Do you want extra help? He’ll do it

You're sad?

He'll cheer you up in no time

So really becomes like your rock

Starts nonsensical conversations as well but unlike Namjoon he actually succeeds

“This one they had in pink last year, it was all over Instagram. How is it purple now?”

“Dunno,” you look at the flowers. “Maybe different species. Maybe they repainted them. Purple is trendy right now.”

“Haha, borahae.”

Then plucks one flower and tugs it behind your ear

“There. Pretty.”

Feeds you a lot, really attentive

Doesn’t really care what you see him as for now - a friend or a helpful guy - as long as you’re living good, he’s happy :’)

The only thing giving away his crush is the constant playing with his ears to alleviate nervousness

And the handmade jewellery, for sure has by now given you ten to twelve handmade bracelets which he nearly passed away when gifting

Whenever he sees them on your wrists gets ultra shy but happy cause this might actually happen in due time

JIMIN:

Did I say save Namjoon? Save this guy

You don’t know what his deal is? He doesn’t either

Know of his duality? Prepared to be exposed to it on a rhythmic rotation from here on out

Was he just yesterday, playing with your earring, whispering in a sultry, whiny tone:

“Why don’t you like me, __________?”

“I do like you.”

“You could like me a bit more. I would really like it if you would.”

And is he now, on this fine fucking day, hiding behind Namjoon whispering into his ear to tell you you’re doing a great job?!

Yes.

He’s feeling shy today :(

Lingering touches all the time

It’s a scientific fact published in the new issue of an international medical journal - if he’s going ten minutes without touching you, his kidneys, lungs, stomach and tendons experience abrupt and painful deterioration

So you better get your ass here asap :)

He’s stretching? Somehow hugging you. You’re sitting? His hand is on your thigh

HAND! ON! THE! THIGH!

It's like an entirely new brand of love for him and there are many different flavours to this

Calming, comforting, jealous, they’re mine back off

Cutely annoys you for attention

Like standing in the doorway, asking you 1000 times if he’s cute or not, sing songs your name for no reason

Oh my god, mentions your name at random times of the day, sometimes while singing, sometimes improvising a tune, sometimes just underneath his breath

You're always on his mind, so naturally, it sits on his tongue all the time as well

A stream nay an ocean of compliments, not just to you but to everyone whose listening

Or is forced to listen

Like Taehyung whose ear he has yapped off already

Because to him, you are the best and everyone else should also think that

“Hey, isn’t ___________ so cool these days?” “You always look so bright!” “Thank you, _____________, you’re an angel! We can be a fairy angel duo!”

And then the other shoe drops

Shameless Jimin is a menace and a half

Biting his lips, laughing breathily, sorta being a dom

“Don’t pout, _________, brats don’t get awards” :)

“You should look only at me, got it” :)

Just really sweet, cute, menacing, really caring and attentive if you’re feeling down

Oh and lest we forget his special soft whiny voice! In full throttle when you’re around

“_________, we should be around each other for a very long time.”

TAEHYUNG:

Does this seem menacing? Because Taehyung is

Where does one even start with this little shit?

Says the most heinous, out-of-pocket shit.

“__________, I want to see what our children would look like.”

And if you somehow manage to not see it, when Taehyung is as subtle as the asteroid that plunged Earth into the Ice age, that’s fine he’s just going to be even bolder :)

Treats it almost like a game

The more oblivious you are, the more he’ll hammer through the walls of blindness :) don’t worry :) he’ll succeed next time :)

Unlike Jimin who probably has a laugh of “how they’re so blind”, his laugh says “you’re so cute :) I’ll get you next time”

Gift giving!

Waffles, flowers, little jewellery brought with no excuse or explanation

Always ropes you into doing something together, even if it’s something silly

He’s confident but it is warm and yeah kind of cocky but with no malice behind it

It’s like he’s oozing a pink romantic light from within

Watches out for you, like proper gentleman stuff - walks on the side of the road in case of splashes, pulls out the chair, waits for you to finish work to accompany you home

But no personal space you just have to live with it

If there’s music can and will dance with you ranging from a slow waltz to nuzzling you whilst swaying

Definitely does weird things like if you bump into something, he must “inspect the damage” which means sitting you down and lowkey and respectfully admiring you and softly touching you (in appropriate places, you pervs)

If he annoys you so much, you threaten to put him in a chokehold, he looks like a man in the gate of Heaven

Honey, darling, lovely is a must

Has his gallery full of pictures of you (taken consensually) though I always imagine them as being super blurry

He's a blurry sorta guy

Says he misses you a lot even if you haven't gone anywhere

Definitely has had a conversation about your past lives and that you must have met at some point

He’s persistent but not in a creepy way, only does this much because he sees you being oblivious but not weirded out by all these gestures

Definitely and 100% insists that his angel brought you to him

JUNGKOOK:

If there wouldn’t be a child protection squad engaged at all times, he would have already snapped his neck trying to impress you

Giggles a lot!

Sort of jokes about it

Like if you somehow end up lying next to each other, he will say something like “oo the air changes, it’s becoming heavy”

Definitely adds your gestures to the infinite list to mimic

But genuinely does pick up your habits because he’s watching you a lot

Protective! To the max!

If you’re scared of anything, anything at all, be it a stranger or a moth, he’ll be there to avert the threat

Calls you his dog’s other parent for sure and instructs Bam especially to protect you

Very cuddly once he gets to know you

At first not really talkative mostly just reacts to you, laughing along your jokes, commenting on how good you’re doing something but then asks for your opinions, invites you to play games and such

If you’re mad at him - the literal impersonation of 🥺

Holds your hand while walking sometimes and then teases himself for it???

Who knows what goes on in that head

Gets jealous and definitely glares if someone is trying to make moves even if you’re not together

Afterwards, he pouts and whines

"They're not even that great. I can do all that and more"

Does and promises to do stupid things to impress you, like if you need to move a table, he’ll definitely bust through the wall and say all cool like “I can get it by myself, don’t worry” only to strain his muscles

Shows off his tattoos and if you want to get one as well will be so enthusiastic, you’ll get the best parlour in the city, the most thorough care afterwards provided by him of course

At times when he’s talking and you turn to look at him, his brain stops and there’s audible error noise coming behind those eyes

Sometimes he stutters when speaking to you, especially if trying to be smooth but he’s doing his best

Actually, he's the hottest when he's not trying

Like he's driving you back home, music on the low playing all sexy and he's like clicking his tongue while leaning back into the seat

And that does something to your brain, breaks through the wall and surmises a point that this dude is actually kind of hot

And he's taking special care of you

He then turns and chuckles taking in your wide eyes

"Do I have something on my face?" he asks. "Or have you begun liking me, ____________?"

You blush and look out the window

"It's nothing"

He doesn't push further but secretly hopes to high heaven you do

Has told about you indirectly to his mom by asking questions about how people like to be wooed

But then definitely has that shy smile when she teases him about it

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