#how can you wish that type of violence on anyone
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psyaurorak · 2 years ago
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Alright… so a year ago I went and joined the LO discord…
And lemme tell ya, they legitimately SUCK
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There’s more but this got me SO MAD last year. Led to me leaving.
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vhaos-chaotic-writing · 3 months ago
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(TFP) Yandere!Autobots - Types of yandere
WARNING: Yandere behaviour, yandere harem, describing types of yandere, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, Reader is gender neutral and in the Autobot faction. Use of (Y/N) (minimun).
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Optimus Prime is an overprotective yandere.
Clear from the start - even before the war, the Prime hated the idea of you being hurt or in any kind of pain, either if it was physical or emotional. He can't help but always think of your safety, even if it meant to keep you locked inside of the base.
His presence is overbearing, always there behind your back and acting as your shadow. You don't bring yourself to ask kindly to have some privacy or be allowed to do more than just rather small tasks at the base - he looks so happy being by your side and always looks like his spark is breaking in half if you express the minimun discomfort.
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Ratchet is an obsessive yandere.
Servo on servo with Optimus, he is quite overprotective too. But what makes him different from Optimus is that Ratchet gets hysteric and euphoric in the blink of an optic if it is about you. You would get scared to see the many things he keeps and knows about you.
Knows everything about you, both in the medical field and personally for he is the bot you get to pass more time as the others are out on their missions. Has his optics on you nearly all the time, analizing and keeping every little detail, data and informatiom about you. When he is all alone or with any of his teammates, he gushes quietly about you, spilling every little detail he learned recently or holds dearly to his systems.
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Bumblebee is a self-aware yandere.
From the bunch, Bee is the one to know what he and the others are doing is wrong. More than wrong. They were holding you hostage, lying to you, their love for you reaching sickening levels, and he is sick of himself... but can't bring himself to stop. His self-awareness then translates to a validation-seeking behaviour.
He needs your smile, your words of approval, your soft praise, your gentle touch - everything so he doesn't crumble down. He feels lost without you, that's why he is always following you and doing anything so you can look at him with those precious optics of yours that make Bee forget for a moment that what he is doing is wrong.
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Bulkhead and Wheeljack are clingy yanderes.
Something that makes them different from one another is how their clinginess is masked - while Wheeljack flirts and tries to woo you, Bulkhead gives you small gifts and wishes to pass time with you. Wheeljack loudly demands your attention with flirting, compliments and keeping a servo on you, while Bulkhead does it quietly, his gifts always accompanied with a 'would you like to pass time together?' or 'wanna train together?'
You are their universe - they must be around you to feel alive and in calm. Spare them a glance, a word, anything and they'll melt and wish for more.
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Arcee is a violent yandere.
Like Bee, Arcee is self-aware, but it is her love for you that moves her wrath, and viceversa - her anger moves her devotion for you. Arcee had lost many loved ones, like Tailgate and Cliffjumper, stucked in a cycle of grief, spiraling in the anger stage. But the anger is never directed at you (never, ever), but at the Decepticons and anyone who stands in her and her team's way to protect you.
You bring peace to her hurt soul, making her fall deeper in love for you - but once you turn your optics away, her anger is back, ready to destroy everything if it means to show you how much she loves you. And you've witnessed how her hysteria taking over, to then melt the moment she gets to see you, bringing her tranquility.
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Smokescreen and Cliffjumper are worshipping yanderes.
Oh, Primus - if Cliffjumper was still alive, he and Smokescreen would be a helmache whenever both opened their mouths, as they would talk non-stop about how amazing, precious and unique you are. While Smokescreen is a 100% worshipper "(Y/N) is a flawless deity!", Cliffjumper is a worshipper that acts normal in front of you, but once you leave, he talks and talks about you, praising anything you do.
Both definitely lean on the stalkering side, too - and in their optics, you are free of any sin, of any flaw. You are perfect. And if you give them a small compliment? They feel this rush of euphoria.
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Ultra Magnus is a passive lovestruck yandere.
In front of others, Ultra Magnus does his job as an autobot, following Optimus' orders and guiding his teammates. But when he is all alone with you, he changes - he seems to be in a passive, dream-like state, as all he does is sigh, kneel in front of you and whisper his prayers, holding your servo and begging softly for your benevolence and blessing.
Like others, he is also a worshipper, but a very soft, calm one - for his worshipping must be only for you to hear. He prays everyday to be worthy of you, to be your knight in shinning armour. Ultra Magnus will always view you as an angel, an ethereal being and sigh his spark out of love for you.
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Hope y'all liked it! (*^▽^*) Vhaos out!
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teaboot · 7 months ago
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I'm surprised/impressed? by how blase you are about people threatening you at work. A neighbor threatened me last week and it was so scary and I wish I could have had the same kinda response you seem to.
First off, I hope you're safe and okay, that's an awful experience to be familiar with and especially bad that they live so close to you D:
Second, I'm certainly no maverick out here- I've only been doing this a few years now- but I've found that about 99% of threats I receive have very little intent to follow through.
The type of threats I usually receive are typically from:
Someone who's had bad experiences with security or police, in the past. People with hand and face tattoos, homeless folks, people with mannerisms that get them labeled as "sketchy", POC, and people who've been incarcerated all have valid reason to believe I'm out to get them, and may get treated badly elsewhere often enough that they're expecting that. Every time I approach someone, I have to take this into account and do everything I can to signal that they haven't been profiled based on preexisting stereotypes.
Someone experiencing the symptoms of a mental health condition. People with mental illnesses are statistically victims of crime more often than they are perpetrators. That said, I have run into people before whose mental illness can present as aggression- if someone behaving erratically or is known for that sort of thing tells me they're gonna blow my brains out, but I can clearly see they're unarmed, not coming towards me, haven't hurt anyone, and show no intent of escalating, I'm probably not in danger. A few people I've met will see me again in a day or two and will have no problems with me at all.
Someone who is scared, frustrated, anxious, or grieving. Not to excuse violence in any context, but in my experience 99% of people who blow up at me aren't actually thinking about me. Anger isn't so much an emotion in a lot of ways as it is the reaction to another emotion- if someone tells me they're gonna kick my ass, I have to question if there's anything they may be frightened, frustrated, or sad about something else entirely. If I can address and resolve what's causing the anxiety, the anger usually goes away next. If I can't deescalate, my next job is to disengage and make sure myself and others aren't at risk of harm.
People who want something from me. This does not happen often. Maybe they want me to back off, or leave them alone, or let them take something, whatever- maybe they think I'm someone with clearance to use physical force, or they think my flashlight is pepper spray. Whatever it is, once they've made it clear they're willing to act, I back off. Unless they're hurting another person, nothing they want is worth getting stabbed or shot over. And physical conflict is insanely stressful, even for the attacker, so even then whoever threatening me will likely take any "out" I can give- I keep paths of escape clear, stay out of range, keep calm and respectful. Every time this has happened to me, the person has run away when given the chance.
People who genuinely want to hurt me and intend to follow through. Again, this is super uncommon- I think it's only really happened to me once or twice on the job. Yes, it's scary, but I find it helps to remember that they arent after me, they're after the uniform. If someone is coming after me in costume, so to speak, it's not who I am as a person, it's what I represent. And a lot of people seem to think I'm a cop, or see me as a faceless goon, or a past abuser, or an intruder in their life specifically sent to make them miserable. If that's what they believe, there's not much I can do to change their mind except, again, stay calm and respectful and disengage.
I do know how to defend myself to an extent, but again, I don't have weapons or restraints or a vest or anything and I'm kinda small on top of that so really I'm cool with hauling ass if I gotta. If me getting the fuck out of dodge resolves the issue then I'm not above radio'ing HQ from the top of a tree somewhere, that shit is above my pay grade.
TL/DR in my personal limited experience, someone who has told me that they're going to hurt me wouldn't have given me the warning unless there was something I could do to avoid it. Stay calm, don't yell, be respectful, give them an escape route and run if you need to
Stay safe out there, yeah?
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miyukisu · 16 days ago
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No Matter What .ᐟ
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❤︎ | If Umemiya Hajime promises you something—best believe he's keeping it (1.3k wc) ╰ feat. umemiya hajime (winbre) x afab! reader
tags - reader gets hurt, mentions of violence and injuries, angst to comfort, fluff, happy ending, caring ume, friends to lovers -ish, no y/n
a/n - this was a request on my other blog
MEGA MASTERLIST
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"If you need help—no matter what it is—just call me and I'll be there."
Those were the words that Umemiya Hajime told you the first time you met him. And maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he only told you that because you were Kotoha's friend. Sure, he was the head of Furin and Furin's supposed to save the people of this town—but that doesn't mean that Ume would always be at your beck and call.
It doesn't necessarily mean that he'll be there for you no matter what.
Because you were just that—Kotoha's friend. You weren't anyone important that the top dog of Furin would come in and rescue you. But, God, you wished that you were.
You let those sweet words float by you at first, but now it was the only thing you were holding on to. That and your dwindling hope.
How did it come to this? Why did they have to come to the cafe at exactly the time that you were alone? Why did Kotoha leave you alone? Not that you blame her... but you do blame whoever these people are—for being so weak that they would hold a grudge against Furin, going as far as torturing the people that mattered to their leader rather than aiming for him themselves.
They were after Kotoha; that much you were sure of. Though, they figured, you could also be someone important to Umemiya Hajime. So they beat you up for safe measure. Perhaps a consolation that they couldn't get their true target.
You could only watch as they continued to trash the place, trying to send a message to Furin that they were dead serious about this feud—a feud that you unfortunately got tangled up in.
With your back facing the door, you were a witness to their wickedness. As much as you wanted to shout or flee for your life, you were frozen in place. Softly, you could only whisper his name—a futile prayer on deaf ears.
But Ume had a knack for turning bleak situations upside down. Too absorbed in fear, you failed to notice an intense presence make its way into the cafe. A newfound weight was put on your shoulders, a coat which you instinctively held on to. It radiated a masculine smell and it comforted you because it smelled exactly like him.
"Can you make do with my jacket for now? Just gotta deal with these guys first," he says, turning to look back at you with a reassuring smile.
Dumbfounded, you simply nodded at him, allowing him what he does best: saving the people he cares about. He effortlessly plowed his way through his opponents. His face showed no emotion, punch after punch. Part of you could tell that he was holding back; he could do even worse to them than this.
When all was said and done, Ume gave them a warning—more so a threat to be honest. The men almost crawled their way out of the place. Only then did you see a speck of emotion on Ume's face.
He was seething. The aftermath of the gang's actions made his blood boil. And to think what could have happened if Kotoha were there...
But most of all—and the reality is—you were the one that got hurt. You were no Kotoha, but Ume cared about you all the same. He was that type of guy after all.
Once he had calmed down, he knelt down in front of you. HIs face relaxed a bit, hoping it could calm you down.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. I really am."
You quickly shook your head, still holding on to the jacket he perched on your shoulders a few minutes ago. "No... please don't apologize. I'm just glad that you came at all."
Ume's expression softened, feeling bad that someone like you had to go through such a traumatic experience. He wanted to tuck the lock of hair behind your ear and to cup your cheek at that moment, but decided against it. There were more pressing issues than giving into his impulses at the moment—like getting you to safety for instance.
That's how you found yourself being carried on his back. You insisted that you could walk, but he was as stubborn as you.
"Are you sure the cafe will be alright?"
"Of course! The other guys should be there with Kotoha now—cleaning around and stuff," he says.
"What about you though?"
"Me?"
"Don't you want to be there with Kotoha? I'm sure the other guys would have been able to help me..."
He lets out a short chuckle. "You want someone else to help you? What's wrong with me?"
"What? I didn't mean it like that. You know what I'm talking about so—"
A smile graces his face, glad to be so quick-witted. "Then just get comfortable behind there and let me bring you home."
Not that he could see your face, but you hid your flustered face behind his shoulder anyway.
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Ume carried you all the way inside your house and at this point you've learned that it was fruitless to refuse his kindness. He gently places you down on the sofa before facing you with his usual positive expression.
"Alright. You got a first aid kit somewhere?" he asked with his hands on his hips, looking around as if he'd find it in plain sight.
"It should be in the bottom cabinet in the bathroom... um, first door to your right when you go up the stairs," you sheepishly respond.
He nods. "Got it. I'll be back."
Sure that he was gone, you let out the breath you've been holding for a while. You were glad that no one else was home. Otherwise, you'd have to deal with explaining as well.
And... maybe it would be nice to be alone with Ume even for just a while.
You see him come down the stairs and jog towards the hall leading to the kitchen. The fridge opens and closes, and you wonder what he's up to. Although, soon as he comes back with the kit and ice pack in hand—you understood the quick kitchen detour.
"Got some ice from the fridge. Here," he says, handing the pack to you. "Your knee looks pretty swollen. You'll need that."
You softly thank him for his thoughtfulness and he kneels down in front of you once more. He raises his hands, "You okay with a bit of touching?" preempting you to his care.
"Yeah... though it's a bit embarrassing that you have to tend to my wounds when I can do it myself."
He already had a cotton ball with antiseptic. One hand holding your leg up with the other dabbing the medicine on your cuts, he smiled thoughtlessly to himself.
"Wouldn't let a lady tend to her wounds herself, would I?"
"Knowing you... I guess you wouldn't."
He looks up at you with a grin. "Besides, I told you I'd always be there for you. Even after we get you all patched up and ready to go to the pastry shop downtown to get a sweet treat to lift your mood—I'll still be there. Someone's gotta carry you, right?"
You didn't think it was possible for you to smile, let alone laugh, after that incident. But here you were, giggling while Ume cared for your wounds.
"We're going to the pastry shop after this?"
"You bet."
It was this day that you learned: Umemiya Hajime keeps his promises no matter what.
©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms
╰ author's note I used to post a lot of WinBre on my main blog, like 40% of it used to be WinBre. But this is my first fic about it on this blog. Hope I still ate.
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venuslarkspur · 1 month ago
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guys what if concerning dating history batsis did it with deathstroke.. or rose… WHAT IF HE’S HER SUGAR DADDY LMAO
OMG UR SO REAL FOR THIS THOUGH (Bruce is already getting grey hairs from this girl)
LIKE IMAGINE ME THIS ⬇️💗
Batsis and The Tale Of The Sugar Daddy (and gal pal Rose)
Warning: SLIGHT NSFW, canon dc violence, batfam shenanigans.
———————
Bruce: Listen I think it’s good that Batsis!Reader is financially independent now but where is she getting all this cash?
Tim mindlessly typing away: My theory is Roy got her pregnant and now Ollie has to bankroll them.
Damian: That’s ridiculous, they could have just came to father, Drake.
Dick who is sweating cause he knows why: Yeah..you’re probably right Tim..
Tim: What’s wrong?
Jason who is still agitated his sister is not only involved with his ex’s dad but also the ex: I’d tell you, but I was AND still am confused.
———————
- Batsis is definitely Rose’s awakening, she doesn’t care if she dated Jason that’s him fumbling not her.
- Batsis just started off as one of Rose’s friends when the masks were on, she didn’t know she was getting it on with her friends dad of all people.
- It’s difficult for anyone to really refute it when it comes to the age gap, yeah many think it’s gross but when they met she was the same age as Dick. (27-29) so if Bruce finds out not only can he not be argued with, Batsis will also bring up how his exes are just as bad.
- Not bc imagining Deathstroke who is just insanely soft on Batsis, say even if he gets her pregnant he isn’t going anywhere; Rose could use a little sister or brother ig. But y’all are careful, he knows better than to get a Wayne Family Heiress pregnant.
- I don’t write smut but Ik they are FREAKY, the one place they wouldn’t dare do it is Wayne Manor, he is cooked if they’re are caught there. He will have the Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, The Batgirls, Robin, Batwoman, Signal and probs more on him at that point. These mfs will let Batsis’s exes know that’s how petty there are about this.
- Imagine waking up with Deathstroke and ur both barely clothed and outside his window is the entirety of the Batfamily, Arsenal, Three Green Lanterns, Zatanna, Wonder Woman, John Constantine, Booster Gold, Harley Quinn and his own daughter are queuing up for first dibs.
- Slade knows about your problem with some of your exes (cough cough Hal Jordan) and aims to help you by drowning you in jewellery and clothes, like that new faux fur coat and boots? Yeah he bought you that, that new pearl and gold necklace with your initials? Yep he got it. That new skirt that’s shoes the perfect amount of thigh? Yep, his. Like all these past flames and flings (HAL JORDAN) know you’re seeing someone.
- Always reminds you how mischievous you are for getting nasty with him whilst being a “figure of honour and importance”, which quite frankly pisses you off, you’ve slept with most of your dad’s colleagues god damn it! He loves that it makes you feisty.
- Rose is super jealous, and you definitely share a heart wrenching goodbye kiss before she wishes you goodbye, you almost went after her before remembering your dinner date tonight and if went well you’d be confident to let your father know of your relationship.
- If your a vigilante, Rose knows your secret identity (wether you’re batgirl or not), Your Sugar Daddy doesn’t know and you quite frankly would rather he not, you make him swear off the Wayne Family all together, but you feel guilty at not being able to protect them when the masks go on.
- We know Batsis has a limit when it comes to his work, so she will break it off eventually, leaving all the dinner dates, passionate nights and shopping behind. You know you make him very happy (mostly aroused) but happy, so he’s always a phone call away, you’re always down for the occasional fling, and your time with him will always never be forgotten, even if you did the right thing, which isn’t your style at all.
- He’s up there with John Stewart and Wally West with top five men you miss but probably wouldn’t date again for different reasons.
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IDK WHY THIS GOT ANGSTY THIS WAS MEANT TO BE FUNNY BUT WTH. Life goes on yall 😭🫶
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animeyanderelover · 1 month ago
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Hello! I hope you're having a good day! Can you write about the topic you wrote in this link for Muzan meruem chrollo and sukuna? Good afternoon!
The link being referred to is this one if anyone is curious.
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, controlling behavior, manipulation, blackmailing, isolation, violence
Tags: @jamayah @leveyani @chxxz @hyakki-yosai @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @lovley-valentine7
S/o is a time and world traveler
Chrollo Lucilfer
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📖​An ardent reader of humanity, Chrollo takes an interest in you early on as he notices you during one of his stays in a city he plans to raid with his Phantom Troupe. There is information to be gathered from him and as he schemes and manipulates to achieve what he needs, you stumble upon him. New to town with wide eyes brimming with curiosity, the type of innocent that someone like him should stay away from. Yet somehow he is unable to shake the feeling off that to you there is more than meets the eye. It’s a suspicion he is unable to shake off as Chrollo has certainly a good read on humanity. So why does he feel like there is something special about you? With the time he still has left before the coup, Chrollo decides to indulge in his peaked interest and approaches you one day in town. Offering you to show you around the city works wonderfully to get you to open up to him as you accept his offer eagerly. The answers you give him are vague though, your true home a mystery. Chrollo always seeks answers though so the lack of information from your side only serves to fuel that urge to find out what it is that has his attention so stuck on you. Whatever it is you are keeping, he needs to find it out.
📖​Initially it's his charm he uses in hopes of coaxing you into opening up to him. It has worked on a lot of unassuming people before yet on you it doesn't. It's hard to get you to open up and whilst others might find this infuriating, Chrollo finds himself enjoying the challenge. He's come to like you over the last few weeks that he has gotten to know you. Something within that innocent curiosity attracts him especially since it is coupled with an unusual amount of knowledge and wisdom that not many within your age possess. It is such an unusual combination as wisdom always comes with pain yet you have kept your liveliness alive nonthelesss. He wants to know how you have done this and why as well. As you don't respond to his attempts, Chrollo sees himself with no other choice but to use a Nen ability on you. He introduces you to his friends, all under disguise, and asks Pakunoda in particular to question you about your origins and use her powers to get the answers. Only for her to report back to him later on that she was unable to use her skills on you. Once again Chrollo finds himself denied of a knowledge he wishes to obtain yet the more it is kept away from him, the more he desires it, desires you.
📖​Nen, the very ability that makes many people as fearful and strong as they are, doesn't touch you. After Pakunoda's report he decides to try to use some abilities out of his book to see if you respond to any of them yet he receives the same results as Pakunoda. Nen doesn't respond to you and you don't respond to Nen. The very power of this earth can't touch you mentally and in cases not even physically. This leads Chrollo after many hours of pondering to a theory that only ensures his further downfall into obsession. If Nen does not respond to you then perhaps that hints at the fact that you aren't from this world. An anomaly if he has to name it, something that shouldn't be within this world and yet still is. Answers have to be obtained and he has to resort to methods and substances that can and will work on you. He drugs you and restrains you, uses your inebriated mind to slowly and patiently pull all the answers out of you without putting a single scratch on you. He bemourns that he can't have a conversation with you at your fullest abilities but he fears that otherwise you might escape his grasp. Your ability is something he cannot steal so he has to find other ways to keep you by his side.
Meruem
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👑​For you it is a very unfortunate happening of being at the right place at the wrong time. Your plans originally only involved exploring the very kingdom where Meruem and the Chimera Ants have settled down yet you don't know about that until a few foot soldiers attack you. There is little to no choice for you but defend yourself though you do not kill them. Perhaps that was your one fatal mistake as they quickly report the accident to one of the royal servants who in return reports it to Meruem himself. The slight rousing of curiosity is not enough for him to take matters in his own hands though as he simply tells one of his servants to capture you and to deliver you to him as he may get stronger by eating you. All search is quickly solved as you decide to turn up right at the palace's doorsteps yourself. It's your curiosity of the species of the Chimera Ants that has led you to this place and you are immediately brought to Meruem. His boredom outweights his interest yet he decides to entertain you as he asks you to name a reason why he shouldn't behead you and devour you within the next second. What you offer him though in return for staying within this palace is knowledge. Knowledge which you have a lot of.
👑​You bring with you complex board games which do not exist within this world as victories go back and forth between Meruem and you. Whenever he wins, there is no feeling of satisfaction as everything is always cutting too close for him to confidently believe that he is genuinely better than you. The conversations between the both of you prove to equally as entertaining as your answers are thought through and always deeply sophisticated. You do not shake whilst in his presence like normal humans nor are you as blindly loyal as his royal servants. Meruem finds himself appreciating this as he continues his conversations with you and keeps you alive whilst you get to find out more about his species. It's Shaiapouf who brings him the news of the weird discoveries that he has made whilst going through your stuff, his distrust for you too deep as he views you as a threat to the king. A part of Meruem wishes to kill the servant for that breach of orders but the information that Shaiapouf brings with him makes him still valuable enough. Diaries he has stolen from you and devices which do not exist within this world, maps of strange worlds and sketches of inhumane creatures.
👑​Shaiapouf offers to use his Nen abilities on you to force you to talk but he is crashed through the next wall as he makes such a brazen suggestion to Meruem's face. Instead the king seeks you out himself to confront you about the things that he has found out just now. He wishes for transparency as he has given you the freedom to satiate your curiosity. It is only fair that he gets to do the same with his own interest. Surprisingly enough you do not protest much and decide to answer him all the question that he wishes to have answered. The answers you give him are as intriguing as they are worrying him. What you hold makes you worth more than treasure as your knowledge, powers as well as your immunity against Nen make you very strong. Yet Meruem realises that you have no intention to stay in this world where he exists forever as you plan to move on as soon as you have achieved what you came here for. A scenario which he cannot let happen as he has grown far too attached to you. A King needs a worthy partner by his side. You will be that person who will stand next to him as he conquers new territory. Meruem won't settle for anything less than you. You will be kept.
Kibutsuji Muzan
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🩸​Muzan's one fatal weakness is to underestimate humans. He seems himself as something above death, above humanity. After all he has almost reached the perfection that he wishes for yet it is a tiny life of a flower which he is missing in order to walk under the sun. For a millenium already he has been searching for the Spider Lily yet not a single demon that he has created has been able to deliver him the flowers. You happen to catch his attention through the talks of the people within the city he is currently residing within. You've just recently appeared within town and happen to have an interest for botany. With you you have brought exotic plants no one in Japan has seen before as you do not come from this country. Immediately you have Muzan's attention as with your arrival he suddenly sees a chance that you might have the very thing that he so desperately is searching for. He takes things into his own hands as he pays you a little visit under the disguise of being a human who wishes to get to know you, the new person in town. You happen to have opened a small shop selling flowers and trees. What he needs he doesn't find there yet he still asks you if you know where to find the Spider Lily.
🩸​The brief flash of recognition within your face as he speaks the name almost elicits glee within him. So you do know. A good thing rarely comes without bad news though which is exactly what happens when you inform him that you do know where they grow but that they do not grow here. It's only natural for him to assume that you mean that they don't grow within Japan but another country, a hindrance that he believes he can conquer though. After all now he knows that what he is searching for exists. He wishes for your help as you are the expert yet you sense that there is something very malicious behind those red eyes and deny him. A fatal mistake which you would have paid dearly if you would have been just a normal human. You aren't though and as Muzan sends at night a demon out to capture you and deliver you to him, he finds out about that too. You possess abilities which he is not familiar with as you are no Demon Slayer. Is there another organisation out there with people who possess powers similar to you? Will they be a threat for him? It's always only about his own life yet all the answers he needs are within you and unfortunately he can't catch you.
🩸​He breaks into your house after having ensured that you will be out at night as he lets some of his demons loose to keep you busy all whilst he goes through your stuff. By the time you return he has almost pieced the truth together. The moment you step inside he attacks you and knocks you out before you can try to do anything to escape into a dimension which he can't follow you to. Your obedience he cannot gain through the usual means but his answers he will get. He needs to have you. You are far too valuable to escape from his grasp. After all now he finally understands what you have meant. The Spider Lily grows in another dimension which you have already travelled too. All he needs is for you to take him with you to that dimension so that he can collect the cure needed for him to walk under the sun again and then he can finally reach the perfection that he has always desired. You are far from done even though. You are a limitless potential which Muzan can use for his own gain. You should be honored, you know? After all he intends to keep you alive and by his side as not a mere pawn but as a precious pet which he will cherish. After all biologically he can still transform you into a demon.
Ryomen Sukuna
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🗾​Truth be told, Sukuna and you know each other. As someone able to travel through not only dimensions but also to arrive in different dynasties it is unsurprising that you can appear over a millenium within the same world after having already visited during the reign of Sukuna's rule in the past. However, you are no prophet and for that you are not aware that the King of Curses has already spawned within the new time and age and is currently locked away within a boy named Itadori Yuji. You just happen to meet the boy during your trip through modern day Tokyo without any clue of what monster he is keeping within him for now. Whilst you don't see Sukuna though, Sukuna senses you whilst sealed away within the boy. It's almost nostalgic to know that you are still out there, one of two faces of a glorious time which has long passed. However, he is not as sentimental as to let himself get carried away by one very important fact. You shouldn't be alive anymore. It's been over a 1000 years since him and you have faced each other and as far as Sukuna knows you were nothing but a itty bitty human back then which he could have easily devoured. Things are about to get interesting, aren't they?
🗾​He orders Uraume to keep an eye on you whilst he is plotting to break free. What he needs is a vessel and not a cage. As soon as he has found a new body strong enough to serve as a vessel for him he intends to find you and figure out how you are still alive and no day older than the last time that he has met you. Though you are still unaware of Sukuna, you sense that there is something watching you. Uraume is after all a tangible body within this world unlike many of the little and weak curses scattered throughout a city as large and densely populated as Tokyo. You are oblivious to the curses around you and they cannot latch on to you and feed from your emotions either as you are intangible to them. All of this nothing but observations that prove to fuel Sukuna's fascination the moment he has finally found a useful vessel in which he can reside in and have full control over. A grin spreads on his face as he listens to Uraume's report during the time they have observed you. It seems like there is more to you now than what he was able to see back in the days. It's time for a long overdue visit where the two of you catch up with each other. No lies, please. After all he is your oldest acquaintance.
🗾​He's flattered to see that you haven't forgotten him either if your expression of mild terror is anything to go by. Sukuna makes himself comfortable within the place you are staying at as if he owns the place. The cocky grin doesn't leave his face once as he invites you to sit down and expresses his wish to merely talk with an old friend. You cautiously sit down after a few seconds as your curiosity ultimately wins you over as well as your own confidence that he won't be able to kill you as easily as he could have done when the both of you first met. After all you have gained a lot of experience and control since then. Something that Sukuna notices as well. You've matured in a lot of ways and he actually compliments you for it. Still, he has found out that there is a world of curses out there which you cannot perceive and you yourself aren't aware of it. That's the bait that he uses in order to get you to reveal to him how you can still be alive after all this time as he would kill any other sorcerer you might seek out in order to receive your answers. Oh, if he would have known about all of this a thousand years ago he would have taken you long ago. Perhaps he'll enjoy the challenge now that you're stronger and wiser though.
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lucytara · 4 months ago
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a prompt for every week of the year
awhile ago, i created my own writing prompts along the lines of an old livejournal writing community called 52 flavours, whose prompts were always beautiful and abstract and poetic and evocative. these types of prompts have sort of become lost to fandom in favor of more straightforward and simplistic ones (which never inspire me much, personally) so as i start to post fics i'm writing to these prompts, i figured i might as well post the actual prompt list for anyone to use!
the distant glitter of the January sun
back then, everything was music
at the violet hour
the world begins at the kitchen table
it felt just like February; what had been falling snow was beating loudly in the street
Listen. Even the ocean begs.
still without sound
unsure of where to settle down for the night
March is a month of storms and lust
we’ve been alive just long enough
I wrote “valley” when I meant “longing”
you saw me one Friday afternoon and decided you should love me
I know I have been dreaming
April is the cruelest month
all this fucking with no hands on me
I’d write about you a lot more than I should
to put on your best outfit and feel like you’re dressing a wound
to be held by something reluctant to let go
Late in May as the light lengthens
I worry that love is violence
I’ve been trying to go home my whole life–
you can put your strength down
I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.
It is June. Let’s hope someone is kind, just in time
bend in a thousand directions
your smell was never unfamiliar
even hunger can become a space to live in
a kind of undressing
the July night is a song
you, you, and only you
they cannot exist without setting each other on fire
in your hand, its shaky penmanship, my own paper-thin nerves
staying up all night for it
the August sun, returning everything that was taken away—
and maybe love still smolders in my heart
the reverse of being haunted
I want I want I want
a day of rain; the kind you think will never end
September tastes of ashes 
the museum of past lives
maybe a meteor or maybe a phone call or maybe a sudden shift in atmosphere
an old, old wound about to heal or about to bleed
the ache of everything unsaid
October is a thick and hollow bone
the difference between intimacy and radical intimacy
I caught you forgetting me
the wish for winter
Will you forgive me these November days?
amazing how long a ruined thing will burn
Look, you said, sunlight.
All my stories are about being left; all of yours are about leaving. We should have known.
It is December and we must be brave.
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rhaeheartzsquirrelz · 2 months ago
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Hiii,
By any chance can you write academic rivals for either Ellie or Abby?? It doesn’t have to have smut but I just need some angst and tension >:)
YES OFC I CAN?! chat idk how to write Abby to the point where it’s accurate so I’ll stick to Ellie (for now). And uhh this is my first time writing this trope cus ive lowkey never really liked it 😕 BUT I HOPE YOU DO!! Also, I hope its not too long 4 u 😇
Paper Thin Hatred
Ellie Williams x FEMALE Reader || Academic Rivals (fluff)
You’re going in blind, no summary needed.
Warning(s): Sexual tension; making out, mentions of drugs and violence (though it’s not described). Use of y/n like once. (blehh).
A/N: I tried my best gn. If you see any mistakes, no you didnt. I’m not the best at writing angst, i hate sad stuff, so Idk if I did a good job lol.
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✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
You hated her.
Hated how effortlessly smart she was, able to ace every test without the need to lay even a finger on her notes. How she could easily attract everyone and anyone with a single look. How every teacher in your school had this.. bias on her. She was the exception, the favourite. It was unfair and stupid.
No matter how hard you tried, how hard you worked, it was never enough to pass her. There was nothing you could do. Study? Already tried it, ended up two points off from her perfect hundred percentage. Tutoring? Done, but it was never efficient and only wasted the little time you had after school. You had tried everything. But you still came no where near where she was.
Ever since the first grade, you’d been competing with her, butting heads on every test, every assignment, and even every small quizz. From announcing your test scores to the class after realizing you’d topped her to keeping them a secret after finding out you scored lower than her, you’d grown to despise her.
This girl, who you despised, was Ellie Williams, the top student at your school. She was, also, a dickhead to everyone else but her teachers and, surprisingly, you. She’d never think to uttered an insult in your direction, let alone bring your name up in her shit talking sessions. Even so, she was still a stuck-up brat. Thinking she was better than everyone else, demanding respect and attention.
But, even with all these reasons you hate her for, you couldn’t help but admire her carefree spirit. Holding a blunt in the bathroom and smoking it through with her group of friends. Who all, by the way, were assholes. Bullies, to be frank. You didn’t understand why Ellie hung out with a bunch of losers when she could easily make friends with someone like her, someone as smart and collected. She didn’t care. And, sometimes, you wished you didn’t either. The two of you were opposites. You wanted to forget about the grudge you’d been holding against her but you just.. couldn’t. Not when you your competitive nature shook it’s ugly head everytime you were near the auburn girl.
You cared too much, you couldn’t just flip a switch and change that?
It was none of your business, is what you’d tell yourself everytime you found your thoughts wandering off to her. And, either way, having her hang out with those kinds of people meant she would be sure to slack off. Peer pressure was a real deal, and you silently wished it’d throw Ellie down from the title of being the school’s number one student.
You were practically praying for it.
⊹₊⟡⋆
With a push on the doors, you enter the library. Backpack over your shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, you look for a good place to sit. Choosing an empty corner, you got to work; Pages flipping, pen writing, and keys typing, you were almost finished with an essay of yours.
That was, until Williams showed up. A strong push on the doors you’d just came from, she confidently walked in with her hands in her pockets. She looked around to find herself, and the crowd of fans behind her, a seat. Fans, as in her loser friends. They only hung out with her because she was relevant. And she only hung out with them for free cigarettes, weed, and whatever the hell she had going on. She wore a dark blue hoodie with her usual grey sweatpants. As confident as she was, she looked fucking homeless; even though you found yourself raked over her figure.
She was lean, well built, and, clearly, visited the gym frequently. You’d never seen her flex though, only on her social media did she show off those biceps of her. Not that you cared.
When Ellie’s green eyes spotted you, she let out a devilish grin before walking over to you. Her friend group followed behind like a bunch of dogs.
“Hey, sweet thing.” Leaning a hand on your table she played with one of your pens. Without hesitation, you snatched it from her hand and gave her the dirtiest look on the face of earth. “What do you want? You know the library isn’t for fucking around, right?” With your voice as hostile as ever, all you wanted was for Ellie to fuck off. More so her friends. “I’m whispering.” She was, matter of fact she was being pretty respectful. Quiet and polite, yet so bold and confident. It pissed you off. Everything the bitch did had your blood boiling. “Anyways, what are you up to? Saw you all by yourself, need some company?” She was mocking you, evident in the way she looked down at you. As if to keep you in your place. You wanted to shove a fist in her smug little face. “I’m good.”
No way Ellie would listen to you. So, with a motion to her friends she pulled a chair beside you and sat down. Her sorry-ass friend-group walked away with a bitter chuckle. How unlucky could you get? Legs spread with her arms inbetween them she gave you a smile. Her eyes roamed over your form and then the table infront of you. Everything was neatly organized, perfectly arranged. “Need help with that essay? Or ya’ just gonna be stubborn?” You chose being stubborn. “I don’t need your help, nor do I need you to be near me.” Turning your attention back to the computer, you hoped she’d just get bored and leave. But it seemed like your annoyance only fueled her amusement, because she couldn’t keep herself from leaning closer and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Stay still.”
Like hell you would. Recoiling, you sigh in frustration. “Why the—“ An arm interrupted and pulled you back into position and she, again, rested her chin on your shoulder. Ellie was fucking strong. And, you’d only just now realized the physical power she had over you. She not only had the smarts, but she had the body. God damn it, she was better than you at everything. “Let me help.” Who the hell did she think she was? Helping you? Just because she aced every test? That didn’t mean shit. She had no right to tell you what to do, make you do what she wanted you to. Clenching your jaw, you faught the urge to push her off you and instead opted for a less obnoxious way to escape; to leave.
“I don’t need your help, like I said before I’m good.” Shrugging her off of you, you stuff everything back into your backpack with organization being the last thing on your mind. “I was trying to be nice, why the hell are you so damn stuck-up?” Scoffing and leaning back against her chair, the auburn haired girl crossed her arms and looked you up and down. The quiet action had your nerves on edge, causing a fire of insecurity to spread through your body.
She’s judging you, probably thinks you’re stupid. Maybe even thinks you’re overreacting. Is it your body she’s quietly examining or your mind? Is she noticing the curves or the faults of your figure? Either way, you needed to get the fuck out of there.
Without a word, you pull your backpack over a shoulder and bolt towards the door. The door that looked heavenly as you pushed it open. The outside air felt so much better, so much more comfortable. Your body wasn’t tense anymore, nor was your breathing shaky and stiff. The cool breeze entered your nose and you took your time to relax. Just when you were beginning to cool down, you hear this agitating voice from behind.
“Will you listen?!” You felt a tug at your wrist in which you were turned you around to face Ellie. Who was now infront of you with furrowed brows, a narrowing gaze, and that.. look on her face. The subtle expression she had was too difficult to decipher, so you gave up on even bothering to put energy into her. Especially right now. She was staring down at you, probably trying to coax out a response. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off, alright? I just..” Your heart felt like it could practically jump out your chest the more she stood there. So close yet so far. “I didn’t think you’d get mad. I.. I’m sorry for being all up in your space.” Maybe her apology was your last straw because the next thing that came out your mouth left her feeling rejected— as you’d describe it.
“You think walking around with straight A’s makes you all that?” Your furrowed brows meet her, now, raised ones, she looks confused. “I don’t give a damn about how you feel, never have never will. You’re some stuck-up wannabe and I’d rather stay the hell away from you. Got that, Williams?” You were speaking your truth, telling her what you’d been wanting to since the day you first met her. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m fine by myself.” The hostility in your words made Ellie take a step back, her expression showing just how surprised she was. The tension was thick in the cool autumn air. The breeze blew past you and you had to force yourself to meet her eyes— Her eyes that has this look of disappointment within them. Why? You wanted to ask. But, then again, you didn’t really care.
“Yeah. Alright.” Was her response, her voice quiet and low as she looked down and fidgeted with her two hands. Intertwining her fingers, picking on her nails, and even squeezing her thumb. Her jaw clenched and she averted you completely. “I’m sorry..”
You’d just bruised her ego.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆
The week before spring break, you were in class worrying your pretty ass off about all the busy work your teachers had given you. You’re talkin’ stacks of assignments and essays. Videos to watch, quizzes to answer, and books to read. With a sigh of exhaustion, you wait impatiently for class to begin. It was a typical monday, everyone was sleep deprived and already knocked out with their heads on their desks. It was a depressing sight.
But, one thing that was nagging at you all weekend was Ellie. Ironic or not, you had a heavy heart ever since you walked away from her that friday afternoon. The way she looked down, her brows furrowed with embarrassment, and her hands fidgeting with one another. The moment replayed in your head every night, causing you to loose focus on sleep and studying. Since when had you been so soft?
You hated her. So why would you feel bad? Especially after she practically mocked you because, apparently, she knows it all.
You shake the freckled girl out of your mind and focus on the lecture as class began. Weirdly enough, Ellie wasn’t present. She never missed a day of school. Was she skipping? Probably out smoking with her friends, or even snorting god knows what up her nose. You couldn’t care less, especially when you now had the advantage of attending the lecture. You were learning a new unit and were now ahead of Ellie. It was perfect. Too perfect. —
Class had ended and you were packing yourself up before your professor approached your desk. Papers in his hand, she placed them down infront of you. You looked down to find the notes from today printed onto them, they were neatly organized and well prepared. Your professor had reallyyy had made sure to make it look good.
This was an example of how being favoured benefited the stuck-up, freckled girl you called Ellie.
“Hey, y/n, would you mind handing today’s notes to Ellie?” The tall, blond, middle aged man gave you a smile. “I know you two share dorms in the same building.”
Why was that your problem? It was her job to make sure she attended class, why the hell were you chosen to do such a task? But, you couldn’t say no to your professor, not when he clearly favorited Ellie.
“No, I don’t mind. But, uhm.. what room is she in?” Your luck was so sore that you wished you’d skipped class yourself.
“Dorm four-o-eight.” He patted the papers before stuffing his hands in the pocket of her pants and walking back to the front of class.
Sometimes, you swore the universe was working overtime to make you suffer. Punish you for whatever you’d done in your past life. You never understood why you and Ellie always, somehow, ended up in the same classes, same hallways— Hell, the two you saw each other everywhere. Malls? Restaurants? It was like you were being followed.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
With a loud knock, you awkwardly wait infront of Ellie’s dorm room. It felt weird standing there, mostly because of the argument you had with her a few days back. What would you even say to her? Would she even open the door? Maybe she’d shut it in your face to get back at you. All you knew was that you a task; give her the notes from class and leave. It’s not anything would go wrong, right?
The door clicked unlocked and Ellie swung it open. You were greeted with her tired expression. She stood tall, a hand on the door knob with the other scratching the back of her head. She wore a tanktop and this was the first time you’d seen her muscles. Of course, without realizing it, your eyes were practically glued to them. They were toned and stood out like a sore thumb. For a second, you wondered what else she was hiding under that tank of hers. She looked.. pretty attractive and you’d be lying if you said she didn’t. No wonder almost every girl was fanning over the 5’6 nerdy auburn.
Snapping out of your trance you meet her gaze and notice the bruise on her left eye. It was purple with a hint red. And, it definitely looked like it hurt. Did she really get into a fight? You called it. Maybe with one of her friends. Or because of her friends. That’s probably why she wasn’t in class— Either way, all you needed to do was hand her the notes and leave.
Holding out the stack of papers, you met her green eyes before she grabbed it from your hands. Her fingers, seemingly intentionally, brushed against yours for a brief moment. She flashed a smug grin as she read over it and shook her head with amusement. “Notes, huh? You makin’ sure I’m caught up, princess?” How the hell was she so.. playful after that argument, especially after that fat black eye. Did she even care? My god, was she even bothered as much as you were?
“Mr. Nunez told me to give them to you. It was against my will.” You corrected, hands dropping to your side, you turn your head to find an appropriate way to leave. Ellie, somehow, caught onto that, “Hey, you wanna come inside? I uh.. I wanted to.. talk to you. I guess?” The freckled girl, shrugging with a sheepish expression, stepped asife and motioned for you come in. The invitation was friendly, but the sight of her fucked up room made you rethink your decision. Clothes everywhere, clouded air, probably from smoking, and.. were those her fucking boxers hanging from her bed frame?!
“Ignore the mess, I’ve been.. a bit busy.” Yeah, she looked busy with that fucked up eye of hers. You took a second to think. It wouldn’t hurt, right? Plus, you’d get to see her “secret” to being the top student. Was it the way she studied? Did she cheat?
“Fine. But I’m not staying for long.” Oh, you’d be leaving the second Ellie let slip something even close to condescending. You weren’t having it with her anymore, not when she acted like royalty.
Entering her dorm, you plop yourself down onto her bed. Staying away from her clothes, which you were sure smelled, your hands stayed in your lap. You looked around, as Ellie placed the notes down onto a nearby surface, raking over the candid photos on her wall, the trinkets on her desk, and the collection of gum wrappers stamped on her dresser. She had a life, a fun one at that. But, you spotted no sign of school work.
You hadn’t realized she was sat beside you, her hands fidgeting with the strings of her pajamas shorts as she looked down. “On.. friday.” Ellie began, clearing her throat before taking a second to collect her breath; which was shaky. “I genuinely wasn’t trying to make you mad. I’m not as.. stuck-up as you think I am, I really wanted to help. Considering I’ve never even.. uhm had a proper conversation with you? I thought I’d be nice and do something good.” She shrugged out her explanation, and it make sense. You were even considering it. She looked genuine enough, maybe she was telling the truth. But the hate in you only made you see the bad.
What was the “bad” in the current situation? You didn’t really know.
“I know you.. have this grudge against me. You hate me. And, I don’t really know why.” The hint of vulnerability in her tone had your walls came crumbling down. Maybe you were naive for it but you shake your head and furrow your brows. “Hate is a strong word..” And its exactly how you had described your feelings towards Ellie since the day you two had met. “Maybe I’m just.. jealous.” Why were you being honest? You didn’t really know. You seemed to know absolutely nothing when it came to the auburn haired girl. Everytime you opened your mouth your thoughts immediately began slipping from your mouth. “You get good grades without even trying. I mean, all you do is smoke and.. fuck around.”
All you got in response with a scoff and a soft, “is that what you think?” What else were you supposed to think? “Well, I guess I do smoke. But I study. Not as hard as you, of course, but I do my best and.. well, I guess it pays off.” Leaning back on her arms, she gave you a smile. “Your anger’s justified, I don’t blame you, Princess.” And right when you were about to give her a smile back, though it’d be an awkward one, you watch as her hand shifted to resting ontop of yours.
She was making a move on you.
Flinching at the touch, you pull your hand away with an averting gaze. Was this what she wanted this whole time?
“Sorry.” Ellie shifted to pull away from you, giving you space on the bed. Your heart was racing at the small touch, not to mention you were so damn close to her. Your thighs were a shift away from touching and you suddenly felt hot. The room held a loud silence, a piercing one at that. It was awkward, uncomfortable. Both of you waited for eachother to say something, to utter a word and lighten the mood.
“I’ve always found you.. interesting.” Ellie chose to step up, placing her hand on your thigh and swallowing her nervousness down. “You’re smart, y’know? Even though you’re extra sometimes, I’ve always.. wanted your attention on me.”
For a second, you took a second to process her words, process the hand on your thigh. Her? Ellie Williams? Interested in you?
“If I’m being honest, I don’t even care about school, nor do I give a damn about my grades. I just.. ever since I realized you noticed me whenever I get a better grade than you.. I guess that’s been my goal. I don’t care about the stupid assignments, the fuckass tests, all I seem to want is for you to just.. look at me.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck. What was the hell is going on? Is she confessing some sort of.. love for you? Did she like you? Why the hell would she like you?
You couldn’t keep your reaction in check. You held your breath in shock, unable to really.. think of something to say. You felt stuck, unable to move and unable to say anything that would make the situation better. It’s like everything you thought of only seemed to make the situation.. more awkward and complicated.
After a good second of just staring at her, you clear the lump from your dry throat and try not to focus on the hand resting on your thigh. She was getting real bold, and it made you nervous. “I uhm.. that’s.. Ellie, that’s a lot to.. process..”— “So don’t.” So don’t? What in the world was this bitch on? Molly? “I’m being completely honest. Kiss me. If you like it then.. then things won’t be as complicated anymore. You’ll know—“ “Kiss you? Are you.. high or something?” Green eyes widening, you assumed her confidence was bruised by the way she slumped down and flickered her eyes away. You didn’t need her being all upset, she had no reason to be. “I’m not high.. I’m being honest. Can you really not tell?”
No, you couldn’t!
“Ellie.. that’s an insane thing to.”— “Just once won’t kill you. It’s a kiss. One simpe press on the lips.” First of all, where did this even come from? The whole kissing thing? And.. why did she have that fat bruise on her eye? Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose. The hell were you supposed to do? Negotiation always worked? There was no way you could kiss her, you hated her. All your life you’ve only wanted one thing; to was crush her. But, knowing all she’d ever wanted was.. well, your attention.. it had you sort of baffled. How could that be possible, seriously?
“What happened to your eye?” You avoided the subject of kissing, knowing you’d probably give up and let her do whatever she wanted to. Now, you were expecting a simple answer. Straightforward and easy to understand. You were tired of thinking.
“I beat up a kid for.. uhm, well.. talking about you?” She shrugged out, averting your gaze with a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “It’s stupid, I know. But, it didn’t happen in school so I’m not like.. suspended or.. something.” She took a second to clear her throat, “and, I didn’t wanna come to class with this fat thing around my eye.”
It was beyond stupid. Completely insane! Maybe all that smoking really had fucked up that brain of hers. It was the fact that she’d done it for you that had you taken aback. She had no reason to defend you after you’d practically told her to fuck off. Not to mention the fact that she knew you hated her. It didn’t make sense. But, maybe that black eye was enough proof that she actually might care. Actually might like you. But, could you really be sure? What if she was lying and all of this was just some sick prank?
You tilt your head to get a better look at her eye as it seemed like it was beginning to swell. “Right.. and uh, what was that kid saying?” Your question wasn’t a hard one, not for anyone but Ellie. Ellie who seemed to be struggling to find her words. Her fidgeting fingers gave it all away, not to mention her averting gaze.
It was.. sort of cute.
“Just how you were—.. I don’t wanna think about it.” She was, clearly, still bothered by the incident. She cared more about what some kid said about you than what you’d said about her. But, why? You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around it.
“Are you mad?” The green eyed girl gave you a glance before going back to fiddling with her fingers. Her hair covering most of her face as she had it down. “No, I don’t think so?” As truthful as your words were, they had you, yourself, confused. Why weren’t you mad? Usually, you’d blow up on her if she even tried talking to you. Maybe her confession had made you all mushy.
“I don’t get it, Ellie. You beat up a kid for me?” She raised her head and turned to yoy, her expression was clear then. Slightly furrowed brows with parted lips, she was still upset over the whole situation. She really must be with that bruised eye. You decided to drop the questions for now and shifted on her bed. “Can I get my kiss now?” By the time you’d leaned back against your two arms, Ellie had turned to face you. She had this look of determination and it, honest to god, had you considered her question.
“You’re not getting a kiss..”— “Alright, give me a good reason why.” Stubborn as hell. She’d never quit, you knew that. If she’d gone years just getting your attention what else could she have up her sleeve. It was just a kiss.. right? “For one, I’ve known you since the first grade. It’d be weird. Second of all, you’re Ellie. It just doesn’t make sense.” Kissing her would only cause complications, you didn’t need that. And, it’s not like you wanted a girlfriend, you had studying to do. “Those are all the reasons why you should kiss me. I don’t want some.. french kiss, just give me a press on the lips.” A small press on the lips was too much to ask for.
“What do I get in return?” Was your final question, knowing the right answer would probably lead to you making an irrational decision and kissing the girl you hated most. “Your feelings figured out. You want that, right? I’ll show you how you feel about me, please.” This bitch really was crazy. Pleading for a small kiss? She could have anyone else on the campas kiss her at an instant, so why was she asking you?
But, then again, you didn’t want to feel confused anymore. One small press on her lips as you could finally tell her you didn’t feel anything for her, then she could leave you alone. Without the need for your attention, Ellie would be sure to slack off and let her grades drop.
With a deep inhale, you lean closer. Your heart, somehow, was racing in your chest, almost going to jump out. You didn’t understand why but, your palms were suddenly sweaty and it was growing hotter in the room. The sight of Ellie staring at your lips had your mind going fuzzy, your throat goong dry. Her warm, calloused hand came to rest on your cheek as she finally pressed her lips against yours. Your mind probably went numb for a second because it took you a good while to process it all. She didn’t pull away after a peck on the lips and continued tapping kisses on your lips. It had your hands shaking, face warm, and eyes fluttering shut. She was a good kisser, the way her lips tasted, the way her thumb ran over your cheek, even the way her breath tickled your heated skin. She was damn charming and you couldn’t help but kiss back.
Before you knew it, the auburn haired girl’s hand had came to rest under your shirt and on your waist. She felt around your skin as her tongue entered your mouth and began exploring. Your stomach was fluttering like crazy, you could feel it flip everytime Ellie let slip a noise you’d never even thought you’d be able to hear. Not to mention the sound of the kiss, it was embarrassingly clumsy. Maybe because both of you were a nervous wreck. All you could think about was being in the moment, not what would happen after the kiss, not what you could do to get score higher than Ellie. Everything else seemed to disappear around you, leaving only you and the girl you were kissing relevant.
With a slight smile, she pulled away and made her way to your jaw. Placing open mouthed kisses there and, occasionally, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bit back a moan but it only backfired when she fully wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you against her chest. “I wanna hear it, Princess..” Oh, hear she did. Your lips couldn’t contain the lewd moans and whines that dared, and succeeded, to escape. They were, undoubtedly, music to Ellie’s ears. She was enjoying all of it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this..” She whispered inbetween marking you up, her hands roaming over the bare skin of your back with a hint of desperation. As if she wanted to feel all of you, have you skin-to-skin with her. “Ellie..” Was all you could really moan out, which had her flecked cheeks red. Completely and utterly red.
And, in that moment, you’d realized just how wrong you’d gotten Ellie. She was never competing against you, all she wanted was you. Sure, you still hated how effortlessly smart she was, but, to be frank, you were willing to let your walls crumble down. Her silent confidence made you completely and utterly weak, your hate was as paper thin when it came to her. She was able to crumple it up before easily tearing it down. With a few words Ellie was able to get you to melt into her. Into the kiss.
Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate her as much anymore.
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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 5 months ago
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I wish women did not feel so strongly about the fact men, on average, are physically stronger than them. I feel like women have such negative feelings about this that it drives them to ridiculousness. Listen, I get it. I get it, I get it, I get it. The fact men are stronger is frightening. It’s scary to know that if a man decided to physically attack you then you are probably fucked. The USWNT, women who have spent years honing their skills on the field, lost to teenage boys who—when compared to the women—were basically just beginning to develop their talents. I understand how demeaning that can feel to every woman who hears this fact. I can imagine how demeaning it was for the USWNT. I’m sure every woman has been in a situation, playful or threatening, where they have tested their strength against a man and lost miserably. I’ve seen videos where women hit and slapped men with genuine rage and fury and the man barely even flinched. I understand how embarrassing and scary it can be to come to terms with the strength disparity between men and women, but you simply must come to terms with it. Far too many women have taken to pretending that it's not there—this is not a good approach.
Women choose to pretend it's not there because acknowledging that it's there makes them feel inferior. I ask women to remember that this world was built with the ideals of men in mind and to cater to their specific strengths. Men value strength and violence so of course the world is going to seem like those two things are all that’s valued in it. It's no coincidence that many male heroes are physically strong/easily able to cause harm—such as Naruto or John Wick or the Avengers. Of course it feels shitty, as a woman who inhabits this world, to have to acknowledge that your biology generally prevents you from being able to have the ‘can beat anyone in a fight’ type of strength that gets constantly praised.
However, I implore women to consider that men being physically stronger than them is no more of a significant fact than women being able to give birth while men cannot. Women also have biological advantages over men but when was the last time you saw a man calling himself inferior because of them? Imagine if the world was built with female advantages in mind. Imagine a world where the ability to give birth was seen as some sort of pinnacle of human worth. I mean, the ability to give birth is crazy. You are literally creating a whole new life. The female body is capable of providing the necessary tools to bring about a whole new person. Every brain that has thought of something life changing and every hand that has built something new was brought into existence by a woman’s reproductive system. Every single person that has ever so much as breathed was brought to life by a woman, but men never think women are superior for this fact.
Oh, but women couldn’t get pregnant without men, right? No. IVF exists. But even without it, the correct thing to say would be that women cannot get pregnant without sperm. A woman can get artificially inseminated. She never has to go out and find a man to have sex with. Is that not an advantage? Because, I mean, what can a man do if he wants to have a child but no woman is willing to give him one? Hire a surrogate? That comes with a list of complications, is far more intimate than artificial insemination, and is incredibly expensive. How is that not a disadvantage of being male? You may be thinking that you, as a woman, never want to become pregnant, but that is not the point!  The point is that it's arbitrary to look at biological advantages as anything other than completely neutral.
Women also survive famine better and live longer than men. Imagine a world where women held this over men’s heads? But we don’t live in that world. In this world, I’m certain a man would say that they die sooner because of being braver, taking more risks, and doing dangerous jobs. However, if it were women putting themselves in danger and dying as a result, men would not be quick to call us brave; they'd call us the opposite. Idiotic. Foolhardy. Too stupid to take the necessary precautions to keep ourselves alive.
It is just so painful to see women lamenting over the physical disparity between men and women. Let it go. Consider being neutral on the subject of biological advantage. Consider that male strength isn't something to pretend doesn't exist and isn’t something that proves women are inferior.
I understand that acknowledging vulnerability is against the survival Instinct—I get it—but come on. How can we let this get to a point where we’re saying it’s okay for males to enter female sports and beat the absolute crap out of/wipe the floor with women? Them being stronger is neutral! It does not mean anything! But it’s fact. Pretending it’s not only serves to put women in a losing position. Pretending it’s not only serves to make women into a laughing stock. Men will gladly collect medals that belong to women—they’ve been doing that forever. If there was no reason for male and female leagues then there wouldn’t be any. You cannot deny your way into something being true. I also wish it were true that the average woman was evenly matched against the average man, but it’s simply not reality. In the same way that it’s not reality that the average woman is taller than the average man.
I am begging women to think neutrally about this topic instead of being in such deep turmoil over it that they open the door for men to walk all over us.
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tossawary · 7 months ago
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It's very ironic to get comments on "Scum Villain" fics that are essentially revenge fantasies against certain characters, given... uh... everything about "Proud Immortal Demon Way" and how the story of SVSSS interacts with that in-universe story.
Sometimes, it's mildly amusing. Sometimes, it's a little disturbing, depending on how violent and disproportionate the fantasy is, because even if I've written some villain as a real asshole, I don't want to open my inbox to people wishing death and gory violence on anyone. A couple times, it took me a hot second to figure out that the violent fantasy wasn't directed at ME specifically.
Thankfully, that extremism is quite rare, so it's more often people wishing milder physical pains or, uh, complete social humiliation on certain characters, sometimes just for the "crime" of being mild inconveniences or slightly unfriendly to the fic's protagonist. Most of the time, I assume this is some form of playful exaggeration on the commenter's part, a reader exorcising mild annoyance at a fictional antagonist and expressing some sympathy or compassion for the hurt protagonist. A reader mentioning they kind of want to see a character grovel pathetically for forgiveness only to get kicked in the face is not necessarily a reader who wants that revenge fantasy to actually happen in the story.
Sometimes, though, it is hard to tell if someone genuinely thinks that all of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect should be destroyed because Luo Binghe was abused or Shang Qinghua was overworked. Like, I sure hope this is just hyperbole! I sure hope that you don't honestly think that "an eye for an eye" or "I take two of your eyes and also your tongue because you took one of my eyes" are, like, reasonable justice policies! I sure hope that you don't sincerely think that collective punishment is in any way a good thing and that a random junior disciple on the tenth peak (who probably doesn't even know who Luo Binghe is) deserves to suffer because the original Shen Qingqiu was a really shitty person.
But revenge fantasies like "Proud Immortal Demon Way" are popular for a reason, so I can never quite be sure! In every fandom, you have Peerless Cucumbers demanding that villain characters be castrated or killed for being abusive pricks, who cheer on the fictional revenge fantasy of hurting someone ten times as much as they hurt you, and some fans would be absolutely horrified by that kind of "retribution" in real life and others would... cheer that real life "punishment" on as well.
I don't really have a strong point to make with this post! This post is too long to be a casual reminder: "Hey, I hope you're always keeping in mind that messages you send on the internet are being directly received by real people who 1) can't read your tone and 2) don't know your 'real life' opinions to immediately know if you're joking." And I'm focused more here on how amusingly ironic this type of commenting is in regards to SVSSS and PIDW specifically.
Like, it's fun sometimes to get a little "Peerless Cucumber" about our favorite protagonists! (Shen Yuan said a lot of shit on the internet about PIDW but apparently generally doesn't really want people in SVSSS to suffer.) But once your revenge fantasy starts getting a little too detailed in regards to public humiliation and social ruin, torture and dismemberment, arson and leaving someone to get eaten alive by fire ants, making everyone who ever mildly slighted you beg for their life at your feet... It's like, "Bro, I don't think this comment is even Peerless Cucumber levels anymore. You are straight-up getting into original Luo Binghe territory here."
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yanderefarm · 4 months ago
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yandere angel who’s sooo sweet and devoted ? like a cupid or something
yandere angel
cw;; blood, violence, yandere tendencies, abusive relationships, religion, corruption
you: sweet and devoted!!
me: he's so devoted to you he wants to make you bleed. got it.
no but really i hope his weird sweetness comes across. i was having a hard time writing this one. i knew i wanted to do something with the idea of a cupid becoming literally sick with love and the idea of a human just inherently corrupting an angel. i almost wrote y/n as a lot more of a bastard while the angel was just broken by mistreatment but i decided against that bc it might make some people uncomfortable.
ultimately i decided that he's a bit of a bastard and y/n is jaded. i like writing different types of sickness for different yanderes. i think a yandere who wants to monopolize you so badly that he'd be excited if he was the only thing you ever looked at with anger or fear is fun. he wants to take care of you and make you happy of course! he loves you so much. but if you're going to be bad and make him hurt you then he'll enjoy watching you in pain. i also like to imagine sometimes y/n gets back at him by hurting him too. he wouldn't mind if you were sadistic as long as you only showed him that side of yourself.
i don't really have any plans to elaborate on him more than this unless people end up liking him and wanting more of him.
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he starts off as a good normal angel, he's a cupid it's his job to help people find love. after a night with you he becomes corrupted and bound to you. he lives with you, cooks your meals, makes your bed, just generally takes care of you. but he's sick. if too many people love you he'll have to kill them so it's best for you if you don't spend time with anyone but him. you're so afraid of what he'll do you can only go to work and home.
there's a story in myth that speaks of what happens when you lust after angels, an unforgivable sin to lust after and corrupt that which represents god. the punishment for humans is their undoing, a mythical unraveling at the seems until there is nothing of you left. but what of the angel? some say that corrupted angels have their wings ripped from their back and they're thrown down into hell. 
you wish that was the case. 
the angel that follows behind you is not currently spending eternity in a pit of fire and you are not currently being ripped apart cosmically. in fact it wouldn't be odd to assume that you two had suffered no punishment for defiling god's holiest creation. you couldn't be entirely sure that the angel had actually been punished but you certainly had been. you can feel deep inside of you something happened to your soul that night, something was taken away from you. according to the angel his punishment was his obsession with you but you couldn't necessarily see how it was a punishment when he seemed so happy. honestly you didn't even trust him that he wasn't always this obsessed creep. 
what kind of normal angel thinks that it's a good idea to flirt with a human at a bar to "get your self esteem up"? either he was just that stupid or he'd always been this broken. even if he was just that stupid he had to know what would happen to him if he went back to your house with you. you hadn't known shit. you thought that you were just getting a casual hook up after your last relationship ended in you feeling undesirable and unlovable. you weren't trying to lust after any angel! and now you were stuck with him forever. 
you think you might hate him. no one else can see him because he's in his angelic form and all day he's either pushing your friends away from you or he's overwhelming you with all his "love". you watch as he's putting sewing needles in your coworkers lunch. he claims that this coworker has feelings for you. you both know that the only one eating the needles will be you. maybe that's why he puts more in there. you think he might hate you too. 
in a few hours you're standing outside your office building coughing up blood and little pieces of metal. "could.... you ......sto-stop?" 
his hand gently rubs your back as you cough. "I'll stop when he's dead." 
"im no-not... gh-gonna let you... bastard..." your body is trembling. 
"mm~ then i guess I won't stop." he's getting some sick enjoyment out of this you're sure. 
you can feel your vision getting darker and your head falls against him. you feel his arms craddle you so tenderly and you honestly miss coughing up needles. 
it's always like that. neither of you die no matter what either of you do. you're trapped together until the end of time. maybe this is what they meant by unraveling you, your mind will wither away until there's nothing left of you. sometimes you let yourself believe he means it when he says he loves you. sometimes you think you might love him too. 
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joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago
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I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.
The Jealousy Bug
Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.
~~~~~
(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)
Word count: 6.8K (oof)
Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!
Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.
__________
It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.
You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type. 
You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.
_____
When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.
Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.
But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.
But those days are over.
Or… so he thought.
He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.
Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.
You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.
Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?
Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.
After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.
“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.
“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”
He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”
“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.
_____
Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.
Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel. 
“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.
Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.
Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.
Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend. 
Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.
“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.
“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.
“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.
You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?
“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”
“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet. 
Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?” 
Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…
Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.
Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.
He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.
No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.
“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.
“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.
After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.  
“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”
“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.
“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.
“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”
Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.
“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.
He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”
“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.
“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away. 
Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?
You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.
She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.
You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”
“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up. 
“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea. 
You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes. 
Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.” 
You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.
“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”
“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.
Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.
Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.
_____
Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.
He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.
Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.
He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.
But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.
He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.
Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.
Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.
_____
Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.
You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?
He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival. 
You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you. 
So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.
Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling. 
So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.
Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.
So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.
Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.
At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.
_____
The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest. 
“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.
Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know. 
“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.
“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.
“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”
“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.
____
Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy. 
“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel. 
“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”
Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…
“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.
Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?” 
“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.
Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.
“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched. 
“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.
“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.
“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.
“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.
“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.
“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.
_____
Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.
As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?
Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.
Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”
“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.
Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle. 
You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.
“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong. 
You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.
Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.
Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.
“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.
You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.
“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”
You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”
Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.
You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.
“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?” 
You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”
“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.
“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.
Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”
You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.
“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.
“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.
Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”
“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.
Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.
Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.
“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”
“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.
“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.
You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin. 
The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass. 
_____
The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss. 
Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.
Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”
“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.
“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“What?” You were in disbelief.
“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily. 
You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.
Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.
Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.
“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.
The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.
“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.
“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.
“Mine,” he whispered.
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cryptidghostgirl · 1 year ago
Text
Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader
Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?
Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)
Word Count: 2,411
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.
Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.
There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.
Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.
When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.
The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.
----
Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.
A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.
“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”
There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.
“Say that again.”
Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.
“How may I be of use?”
The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.
“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”
His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.
“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.
Alastor raised his eyebrows.
“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”
Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.
“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.
The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.
Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.
“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”
“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.
Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.
“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”
Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.
It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.
“Y/n?”
“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.
Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.
“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”
“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”
“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”
“I know.” she responded almost immediately.
“No, y-”
“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”
Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”
“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.
There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.
“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”
Y/n’s eyes went wide.
“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”
“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”
“I loved you. I still do.”
Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.
“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.
Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.
“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”
A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.
“Al, I have to go.”
“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”
As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.
“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”
A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.
“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”
He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”
“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”
Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.
“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”
“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.
“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.
Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.
“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”
As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.
“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.
Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.
“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”
Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.
“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”
——
Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
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pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months ago
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Logan Howlett x mutant fem!reader
Summary: When you get unwillingly administered the cure, you find solace in someone you don't think you deserve to see again.
Genre: fluff, hurt and comfort, steamy ♥️
Warnings: protective!logan, violence, blood, death, swearing, logan never liked jean in this, making out, talking out insecurities, fingering
LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST
You didn't have much of a choice when you joined Magneto seeing as your boyfriend was obsessed with him and the movement he stood for. You didn't necessarily agree, having once been a student of Charles', but love is a powerful persuasion tool. 
Your boyfriend, Parker, currently has a guard in a headlock, a smirk on his face as he uses his sharp, wolf-like, teeth to rip a chunk out of the man's jaw, a dangerous gleam in his vibrant orange eyes. You're using the electricity from the gates to stun some men who come charging at you, keeping a stern eye on Parker because of how volatile he can become. 
You don't want him to fatally hurt anyone.  
Suddenly the bud of a plastic gun is slammed into your temple, causing you to stumble sideways and onto the sharp rubble. The skin on your arms is scratched as you cry out in pain, rolling onto your stomach as dirt sticks to your skin.
Parker's head snaps around just as one of the guards shoots the cure into your neck, the serum acting instantly as the light blue highlights in your hair quickly vanish and you let out a deep exhale.
Parker snarls and yanks the man away from you, crouching beside you as he looks you over. You sit up, blood dripping from your head and arms. Your body feels numb and so weirdly still as you can no longer feel any electricity coursing inside you anymore. You look up at your boyfriend, tears brimming. 
You wish you could say you don't recognize the angry look in your eyes, but you do and he snarls as his eyes narrow. You feel a sense of dread wash over you. "You're not one of us anymore," he spits, standing up and unsheathing his claws. You shake your head, trying to scramble away from him as your heart sinks.
"Parker? Please," you whimper, "It's still me."
Parker leans down and clutches your hair, pulling you up as he growls when he doesn't see the highlights anymore. You scream out, clutching at his wrist as your toes barely touch the gravel.
"I don't want to be dating one of them," he tells you harshly, his hand coming up to your throat as his smirks widen. "You're useless now. Weak. Pathetic." 
His palm rests on your stomach, claws not yet touching your skin as he looks into your eyes. "I'm doing you a favor," he tells you and presses a harsh kiss on your forehead. "Be fucking happy I am showing you some mercy."
You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to defend yourself as you wait for the slash of his claws when Parker suddenly grunts. You open your eyes to blood dripping from his mouth. His hold on your loosens as he's thrown across the ground and you fall to your knees, cheeks smeared with tears as you look up.
Logan. 
He's panting, his claws unsheathed as they drip with Parker's blood. He looks down at you, his eyes sharp. "Hello again, Princess," he grumbles and leans down, looking at you intensely. His claws disappear and he strokes his thumb over the mark where the cure had been given and he shakes his head. He scoops you up in his arms and he feels all too familiar.
Your head feels heavy as Logan carries you. You lean against him. You haven't seen him in a year and his scent feels so unfamiliar. You don't like that.
"You have a type, don't you?" he comments, but he doesn't sound amused. Your heart sinks as your hands weakly tighten around his arm. You had chosen Parker over him a year ago, the memory hitting you so hard you feel sick.
"Y/n, stay," Logan breathed, watching you pack your suitcase on your bed. "Please," he was pleading, the feeling of the kiss you two had shared the night before lingering.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, ignoring him and the tears that fell down your cheek when you heard Parker shoo Logan away from your door, doing nothing to stop him.
"I- I- I was hit," you whisper, unable to keep your eyes open.
"'Can see that." Logan huffs, his touch rough as he adjusts his grip on you and runs past Storm. "I'm taking her onto the plane," he says without any room for protest. Storm looks confused but her eyes widen when she sees a glimpse of you. 
Logan sets you on the seat, his hand coming up to your hair where he touches the strand where your hair used to be white and he frowns. Your eyelids flutter from the exhaustion and all you want to do is sleep and hope you wake up from this nightmare. 
Instead, you wake up to Logan's scent as your head nuzzles into the pillow of his bed. You groan, sitting up. You have a splitting headache and you wince. You're still wearing your clothes from last night. 
Last Night. 
No.
You stand on wobbly legs, rushing through familiar halls as you stumble past students and into the bathroom. You slam the door behind you. Tears glisten your eyes when you see your appearance in the mirror and you let out a curling scream. 
Logan, even in the kitchen, hears you and his blood runs cold. He sprints into action, running into the bathroom just in time to catch you from falling. "Woah there, sugar," he huffs, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both crumble to the floor of the bathroom. "Shhh," he says as he presses his palm over your forehead as you continue to scream, your screams gradually turning into sobs. 
"Hey, shh, baby, shhh," he whispers roughly into your ear, his facial hair scratching your cheek. He's holding you tighter now and you just sob loudly. Your throat eventually begins to hurt so you turn your head and bury your face in Logan's shirt.
Logan manages to convince you to walk back into his room and he sits you on his bed again. He kneels in front of you, his eyes roaming over your form as he brings his calloused hand up to wipe the tears from your cheek.
You sniff, staring at him. "You must hate me."
Logan looks down, concealing a smirk. "What makes you think that, sugar?"
You tilt your head, your hands trembling as your fingers find the tips of hair and you have to remember you can't touch him like that anymore. You pull away, chest heavy. "I left. I left and I worked for him. I hurt—I hurt people and—"
Logan chuckles deeply, interrupting you, "I find that hard to believe."
You stare at him, your expression serious. "I did. I- I wasn't a good person."
Logan's hand continues to caress your cheek. "Good people do bad things, Y/n. That doesn't make you any less of a good person."
"Not the things I did," you whisper as a tear slides down your cheek and your lip wobbles. "And I paid for it, didn't I?"
Logan shakes his head and grips your chin harder, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Don't say that. You didn't deserve to have your mutation stripped from you. You didn't deserve to have that dickhead try and kill you for something that was out of your control. You didn't deserve any of it, no matter what you've done. You- you should have stayed—"
The last sentence slips from his lips without thinking and his mouth closes. You're looking at him with those wide eyes he loves so much.
"You should have stayed," he whispers, this time with intention. "With me. You should have stayed with me."
Tears fill your eyes and you look away. "Logan," you warn him.
His hands grip your cheeks now. "No. Y/n. Listen to me. I love you. I have always loved you—you fucking know this. This year has been torture without you."
Your cheeks become wet with your tears. "I'm not the same anymore. I'm ruined. I- I don't even have my powers. I'm nobody."
Logan shakes his head, resisting the urge to press his lips against yours and soothe any insecurities you may have. He wants you to know he loves you no matter what. No matter who or what you've done. You're still the same girl to him.
You're the same girl who would walk around the gardens just for the mere chance a butterfly would land on you. You're the same girl who would check on him after a nightmare, no matter how many times he'd warned you he was dangerous. You're still that girl. 
He knows you are. 
You blink up at Logan, your eyes fluttering. You want to kiss him, but you don't feel worthy enough. You feel like a fraud in your own body, an imposter who took over. And worse than that, you'd left him. You'd chosen Parker over him. 
How could he want you now?
"If you're thinking of that dick—please, don't. He's fucking dead," Logan says with a growl, his eyes dark. You knew Parker had died—Logan had killed him protecting you—but to hear him sound so proud, it's thrilling and terrifying all the same. 
Logan picks up on your shift and his eyebrows scrunch. "I fucking killed him. Does that make me a bad person? Do you think less of me?" The atmosphere in the room has grown dark and Logan's hands shift from your cheeks, down to your sides and hips. You gasp, leaning into his touch. You shake your head. "No? You don't think I'm evil and morally corrupt?"
You shake your head timidly. "You protected me. Y-you did what you could—"
Logan's hands tighten around your hips. "And so did you. That bastard had his claws in you, sugar. You were so blinded by love but it wasn't love," his voice becomes hoarse as he wets his lips, "and I should have snapped ya out of it. Should have kissed you harder—should have fucked you. Should have made you mine."
You gasp, your eyes round. Your body shivers from his words and you yearn to kiss him. You still don't feel like you deserve the kiss but his lips are on yours, crushing you into him. He's desperate and dominant and you feel ill to your stomach. Your hand finds his face, hands skimming his facial hair, and you pull him in. Logan growls as he stands and he spins around, sitting on the bed, his legs spread, as he pulls you flush against him. 
You're straddling him now, kissing him back. He kisses so much better than Parker. He kisses you with intention and care. You moan against his lips, feeling his hands slide up your thighs.
"Logan," you whisper as his hand tangles in your hair. He kisses open mouth kisses on your neck, humming in pleasure. 
His hand finds your panties under your skirt and he grins. He slides his thumb over your waistband and then dips his hand in, collecting your arousal on his fingers. "Shit," he groans and kisses you again. "Such a naughty girl."
"M-more," you whine, arching into his hand. You gasp when one of his fingers dips into your folds and you realize how sensitive you are for his touch. How much you need him.
"Good girl," Logan whispers and then his voice is steady. "You're not ruined," he says as his voice sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. "You're not. You didn't need that damn streak in your hair or your mutation to prove your worth. That's never why I loved you."
Your eyes shut as he adds a finger, smirking at the squeal you make. 
"Loved?" you ask, your voice trembling.
"Love," Logan confirms again, "I said I love you. And I'll fuck you like I love you, that's a promise, sweet girl," he says as his lips attach themselves to yours again, claiming you like he should have done years ago. 
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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago
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I can treat you better than he can
Summary: You were hopeless in love with your Captain who pushed you away denying his own feelings for you, maybe this time he pushed you in the wrong hands.
Pairing: Keegan x Reader ( Callsign Sunshine)
Words: 2500 I think
A/N: This is a small chapter of my fic Nightmares become true solider(my first fic and the love of my life but its to long for Tumblr so I post stand alone chapters) The fic is written in an I perspective
TW: canon typical violence and swearing, sex, oral sex, fingering, spanking, cumplay, reader is a pervert, Keegan too, Price is an idiot, Reader is unhinged
Defeated, I walked over to the boys, leaving John alone by the bar. Well, he sure will join us later; why shouldn't he? "John doesn't want to join."
"Better for us, old man is always winning," Ghost said. Even in the bar, he wore a mask—not his hardshell mask he wore on missions, but a skull-faced balaclava—making him look like he was about to rob the place.
Confidently, I tried to challenge Ghost, saying that I could surely win a second time. "Maybe Kyle and I will win against you and Soap."
"Not possible."
We played some rounds of pool in which every single round Ghost and Soap won, surprising not only because of Ghost's skills. Soap was the best pool player I had ever seen; he was super focused, and every shot was a hit. After a while of sore losses, we decided to sit down in a booth. The bar was crowded with lots of soldiers and girls who wanted to find themselves a military guy. To be honest, I couldn't judge them. Military men were toxic but so damn attractive.
Even through the crowded space, we could see the Ghost Team sitting in a booth, still with their masks on, and drinking. They didn't seem disappointed in their loss. I saw a lot of similarities between them and us; anyone could easily see that they were more than just a unit—a family like us. Well, maybe like the four boys and me as a distant cousin taking up all the space at a family gathering.
"You sure don't want to drink, lass? Celebrate our win; we are officially the best team on base again."
"I don't want to drink today; we have training tomorrow, and I don't want to throw up on the mat."
"You sound like a mom," Kyle complained, and Ghost almost gagged when he heard this.
"Aye, look, Captain is flirting with a bonnie." As I heard this, I turned around, capturing the scene in front of me. John was sitting at the bar with a woman—worse, a pretty woman who looked like the complete opposite of me—and not just in a different hair type way—in a different figure, appearance, style, hair color, height way—everything about her was different. She looked so stunning; the boys, well, more like Kyle, repeated over and over again how gorgeous that woman was and how the captain normally doesn't pick up girls at the bar—but probably made an exception for her because that woman was stunning. 
If I hadn't been so jealous, I probably would have had a panic attack right now. I observed the pair—how she touched his chest, giggling and whispering into his ears—and he looked happier than just happy, delighted, lucky, elated, cheerful, joyful, content, and ecstatic—and every word in this universe to describe his smile. He didn't look repulsed or anything at all. Right now, I feel incredibly stupid. For a blink of a second, I thought that maybe he would like me too. He held me, he comforted me, and God, we almost kissed—but maybe it was just my delusion feeding me with unrealistic dreams for the sake of my hopeless romantic heart. I definitely made him uncomfortable; he was surely disgusted and repulsed by me for how I behaved and how I looked because in no way in heaven did I look like her.
"Captain is a lucky bastard."
"Quiet, Kyle."
I didn't listen to the banter of the boys; the only thing worth my concentration was John and how he laughed with this beautiful woman, and how I desperately wished it was me instead of her.  But life wasn't fair, and I was so freaking dumb for believing I had a chance. She sat down on John's lap. Would it be crazy to threaten her to leave him alone? She surely wasn't military-trained, and with her perfectly manicured nails, she would have trouble fighting me, but was it really her fault? She did nothing wrong, and I still wanted to gut that bitch out. Pardon me, I mean woman. As their lips touched each other after moments of anticipation, I almost lost it, but in fact, it strengthened my self-awareness, and finally, I knew all I thought happened between John and me was pure imagination. 
I took Ghost's Terrible Bourbon out of his hand and chugged it down as if it were orange juice. Kyle and Soap looked at me as if I had just murdered their grandma, but Ghost had a knowing expression. How did that little shit notice my utterly cringe and embarrassing hopeless crush on the Captain?
"That Bourbon was expensive, Sergeant."
"I'll pay you back," I claimed—I won't—and he knew.
He almost whispered an act of kindness to him to not address it in front of Kyle and Soap, who wouldn't let me hear the end of this. "It will pass."
"What?"
"The feeling."
As I saw John and the pain of my existence making out like teenagers, I had finally enough. John had his fun, fine; I can also have much fun and forget that wixxer. Without responding to Ghost or entertaining Soap and Kyle's curious expressions and Kyle's question if I got my period, I left the table, walking straight to the table with the American mask boys. I will definitely regret this tomorrow, but tonight I don't care.
"Keegan, right? Come with me."
"Doll, do you really want to be a sore winner and rub your win under my nose?"
"I thought more of a consolation prize or how you say these things in English."
"Are you not a native English speaker?"
"And there I thought my accent was a dead giveaway."
"You're annoying, kid; did someone ever tell you this?"
"Ghost constantly."
"He is a dick."
"I'd second that."
"So tell me the real reason you're requesting my presence. Don't get me wrong, Doll. I won't mind, but I want to know why I have this luck."
"Nothing, just a girl in a bar speaking with a man in a bar."
"And there I thought, after you jumped into Price's arms today, you would be his partner."
"No."
"Liar."
"Did no one teach you how to flirt, Keegan?" I scoffed.
"Doll, I know how to sweep you off your tiny feet but tell me first, am I a rebounder?"
"Yes."
"Well, we can work with that," he grinned as he flicked his cigarette away, now completely focusing on me. "It must hurt seeing him like that at the bar."
"Like hell."
"Merrick was right. Price is an idiot and a goddamn fool. He's got a dime piece right here, and he's chasing after...that!?" He gestured over to that incredible woman.
"I wouldn't describe myself as a dime piece, Keegan."
Keegan leaned closer to me. His voice is now soft and low instead of his usual hoarse voice. "I would absolutely beg to differ. You're a goddess, and he's a complete moron if he doesn't realize that. Why do you even like this guy?"
I rolled my eyes at his hyperbel. "Well, isn't it obvious? He is tall, strong, and masculinely good-looking, but that is only his appearance. He is smart and funny; I would without a doubt rely my life on him." I noticed John's glance at me. Why? It's not like Keegan was the real enemy. 
"I'd just like to point out that so am I, and I've got something he doesn't." Keegan laughed, and his laugh was magnetic.  I would lie if I said he wasn't attractive, so would this be so wrong?
I'm single and young, so fuck off, John. "Tell me what you have and what he doesn't."
His expression turns to one of pure confidence and pride. "I've got class, doll. This 'captain' of yours is off there in this nasty bar, out with a random chick, eating her face at the bar for all to see. And I'm here, paying attention to you—only to you."
"Oh, so you're a high and mighty soldier with class and only pure intentions towards me?" I chuckled as I realized I was really bad at flirting, mostly because I only relied on my good looks. And here I am constantly insulting men I am interested in.
"Only the purest intentions towards you, and I got something else that he doesn't, doll."
"If you say big dick, I'm going to cringe."
He laughed, not even insulted by my comment. "As much as I'd love to, no. No, that wasn't what I was going to say. But I'm glad that's where your mind goes first."
"Well, then we are on the same page. But I think that's the problem with me. I think like a whore, and of course, he wouldn't like me. I'm just the type for fun, you know."
"Who told you that bullshit?"
"My ex."
"Bastard, come on, doll, let me show you a great time. Forget about that stupid captain of yours."
"Maybe I should."
He lowers his voice even further while his eyes meet mine, not afraid of eye contact. "I think he's intimidated by you. I mean, look at you. Smart, beautiful, and strong—you kicked all our arses today like we were toys, and Price knows that; he has no shot with you, and instead of taking a chance, he's hiding behind another girl."
His big hands started to caress my hair, tightly gripping it in an act of dominance. He wasn't afraid of showing me that he wanted me.
"Well, that other girl is hot."
"She might be hot, but she's also clearly not you. She's just someone he can control—someone who will do whatever he wants. Just a mere civilian girl with a boring life—but you're a different story. I already know how strong you can be and how much you like to do things your own way. And that's part of what makes you so irresistible—you're more than just a pretty face; you're a great soldier too."
Fuck it. I pulled him to my height, removing his mask enough so his full lips were finally free. He had a sharp jawline and stubbles that almost tickled against my skin as I finally planted my lips on his, desperate to kiss him and feel desired. He wasn't expecting my sudden kiss and his breath hitched for a moment, his hands tightening in my hair, keeping me so close. I could feel his lips curving into a slight smile, his eyes fluttering shut as his body froze, a low masculine groan escaping his mouth as he pressed his rock-hard body against mine. His hands started to roam over my body until they found my ass, squeezing it firmly and pulling me up in his arms to close even more distance.
John's POV
"Soldiers always had a different kind of appeal to me." If she tells me one more time how she fetishizes soldiers and how she always dreamt of marrying one and being a stay-at-home mom while her husband would be on dangerous deployments, I'd gladly off myself. It wasn't wrong to want to be a stay-at-home mom; John's mom was one too, and she did way more than his old man gave her credit for, but he always hated women who only cared about his status in the military and the benefits it came with. Well, at least she was pretty.
"Do you even listen, Johnny?" Johnny, really?
"Yes, of course, sweetheart." She always blushed when he called her sweetheart, and he felt incredibly terrible for only calling her that because he couldn't, for the love of God, remember her correct name: Sarah, or Sandra; certainly not Sunshine. John thought he could erase Sunshine completely from his brain by making out with that woman. He was wrong— it only made him long for her even more. For heaven's sake. He could lie to himself and say it was that woman's fault, but she was pretty and even a bit smart—she just wasn't Sunshine, and that frustrated him. He didn't even get a physical reaction out of that woman— even his dick betrayed him.
"Oh, God, John, that woman is completely embarrassing," she gestured at something, and when John turned around, he could see it. It was his woman in the arms of that tosser, exactly like he held her today, only that they were making out. Disgusting—deep inside, he knew he couldn't judge her. He was making out with a random woman in the bar just so he could forget her, but still, his stomach built a knot that twisted him like the time he got stabbed near his kidney in Afghanistan.  He would never admit that he was jealous—jealousy was something for weak people. He never felt this way before, and he won't start now. 
It clearly only bothered him because he was one of Merrick's fellow guys; he'd probably only flirted with her because of the rivalry. And as the good captain he was, he needed to stop that, right? So his woman—uhm, his sergeant—wouldn't get hurt and be unconcentrated in missions. 
Sunshine was now sitting on Keegan's lap as he whispered things in her ear that made her sweet cheeks rise with a beautiful color. John couldn't stand this sight anymore; his knuckles turned white from the tight fist he made. He didn't even listen to the woman whom he tried to lay tonight, and as Keegan walked towards the loo, he saw his chance to act like the proper captain he was, and he went after him.
"You deserve better than me, sweetheart, someone who is emotionally available." He didn't let her form her words in protest; he only put $50 down on the table and left in the direction of the loo. He entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was used to being intimidating, and he sure as hell would intimidate that little Sergeant of Merrick. He leaned against the door frame, not saying a word at first, waiting till he noticed him. Right now, he felt strong; it had something powerfull seeing his enemy with his dick out pissing—John was fully clothed, stoic, and strong while Keegan was exposed and vulnerable. John tried to hide his smirk as he saw how he was thicker than him down there—way more for his Sun to enjoy—concentrate on the task, John.
"Sergeant Russ," he said with his hoarse voice.
"Price, what do you want?" he practically spat out.
"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that you won't be able to touch anything else." He saw the look of fear in Keegan's eyes. Of course, he was a strong soldier, but Keegan wasn't a fool and knew that Price was a real threat. 
But then he tested John's patience by saying something foolish like "jealous that you won't be the one to make her scream in pleasure tonight." John saw red, his fists held close to his body, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to beat that shit out of that bastard, but being violent isn't what makes the other scared; it's his calmness and the fact that if he loses it, it's over. 
"Care to repeat that, Russ?"
"I'm going to touch her the whole night, and you guided her into my arms like an idiot." He didn't understand what he meant by him being at fault for Sun's interest in Russ, but never in his life dared someone to call him an idiot.
"I'll give you one last chance, leave her alone."
"Or what, you kill me?" he scoffed and laughed.
"Maybe I will," he said with a low growl that signaled Keegan that he wasn't joking. 
Both fell into silence as Soap and Ghost stumbled out of one of the cabins. They clearly fucked again; he would have said something about not sleeping around in the military, but he wasn't such a hypocrite. 
Soap interfered in the situation, "Aye, calm down, Captain; he isn't worth the stain." Why did they both need to interfere? He couldn't threaten Russ properly without giving the suggestion that he was more than just a caring captain for his Sun. 
Keegan rolled his eyes, "Whatever, I'm going to fuck your little sunshine now." Before John could react, Keegan already had a fist in his face. 
Surprisingly, not from John himself but from Ghost, the reserved man who seemed to hate Sunshine with all his heart. Was he perhaps interested in his Sun? No, never. Ghost was head over heels for Soap, even if he would never admit that. But why the sudden act? Keegan left the loo with a bloody lip.
"You fucked up, John."
"I know, Simon."
Soap and Ghost left the bathroom shortly after, and John could hear the arguing, something about Soap being jealous and thinking Ghost wanted Sunshine, and Ghost replying that Soap was fucking delusional and should know his place. If he hadn't been entrenched in his own hell of drama, he would have talked to Simon. Fucking hell that evening was fucked up. 
As he left the bathroom, going to the booth of his boys, he noticed how Soap and Ghost were silent, Soap's glance almost burning in rage. Sunshine was dancing with Keegan while he groped her precious ass. John sat miserably with his own scotch, but at least Gaz was happy drinking his beer and ranting about something.
After a while, he saw Keegan pull Sun over his shoulder, and they went straight out of the bar, with her being a tipsy and giggling mess. "What a show-off," he scoffed.
"How funny that Sunny is the only one getting action tonight," Kyle looked confused as every man at the table shot him a death glare. For heaven's sake, that evening was cursed, and in all vulnerability, John hoped that this was just a one-night thing for her.
Sunshine's POV
He threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the bar. As we walked towards his room in the base, I could already feel my arousal approaching. It took forever since we stopped always to make out.
You could say a lot about him; he is arrogant, narcissistic, and a bit crazy, but he's a damn good kisser. We reached his barrack, it was as simple as hers just that his wasn't a single. She hoped desperately that his roommate didn't bulge in. 
He pressed me against the door frame as their kiss deepened, Keegan's hand slipped under my shirt tracing soft circles on my back. His other hand slides gently around my hair pulling it towards him as a show of his dominance.
I couldn't hold back and moaned into his kiss. "Fuck it." I ripped his shirt off him ogling over his muscular frame. He was toned his pecks were perfectly sculpted, every woman would kill for that sight but I thought about John - stop it, forget John, think about Keegan.
Keegan smirked as I ripped off his shirt, his hands slowly exploring every inch of my clothed body. His touch was rough and possessive like he desperately needed me. He released a loud groan as I started to trace down his abs and prominent V line. I pulled off my shirt and bra and threw it in the corner. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of my breasts. His rough hand cupped them and his calloused fingers from his work in the military brushed across my hardened nipples. "Fuck," he breathed out his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His erected dick already pressing against my stomach.
"Please Keegan, I need you." I pleaded, Keegan broke our kiss, his lips trailing down my neck and collarbone, his teeth graze my skin lightly as he nipped at my shoulder- Oh he is a biter. His hand squeezed my breasts again before he started to undo his pants. His hardened dick sprung out of his boxers, his pink tip already glistered with pre cum. He wasn't very thick but the length was impressive and he was circumcised. I licked my lips in anticipation. "Shit you're big." Keegan only chuckled darkly at my words. "I'll show you how big." He growls his hands moving to grip my hips firmly as he ripped off my thong revealing my already wet folds.
"Hey, I liked that one."
"I buy you a new one."
His finger dips into my moisture before teasing my throbbing entrance. "You're already so ready for me," he murmurs. 
"Keegan please stop teasing me."
Keegan's other hand slipped down to play with my clit. His thumb circling gently the sensitive knot. With one swift movement, he pushes his thick fingers deep inside of me. He groaned in pleasure at the tightness that surrounded him. "Fuck you feel so good- around my finger."
He pushed his fingers lazily against my G spot and started to scisor them inside, he looked determined at my face to learn which movement kept me going. I felt the knot in my stomach building up letting me almost explode. His lips trailed down my neck sucking on my nipples while he continued to abuse my clit.
"Cum on me Doll."
I came hard spasming around his thick fingers and coating them with my juices. Keegan's cock throbbed in anticipation as he watched me cum around his fingers. He pulls his hand away, relishing the sight of my wetness. "That's it, baby girl."
"Let me take care of you Keegan." I let myself fall on my knees and slowly started to stroak his dick and lick the pre cum of his swollen tip. Keegan groans deeply, as I take his cock into my mouth, his hips jerking automatically forward. He grips my hair trying to maintain his control. "Fuck Doll." 
I bobbed my head up and down while playing with his balls with one of my free hands. He pushes his cock deeper inside of me but he should know that I'm the one in control. I bite softly on his tip to make him crazy. His lips escaped moans - loud moans. His cock throbbed in anticipation leaving stains of pre cum on my tongue. "Fuck Doll, that feels good don't stop."
I began to deep throat him almost gaging because of his length, my eyes began to tear, I tried to maintain eye contact. Keegan's grip on my hair tightens his knuckles turning white. His hips jerk forward, pushing only deeper into my throat. "You're so fucking good at that, I cant last longer."  I press my plump lips together tightening the friction around his member. 
As he feels him getting close he pulls my head back away. "Not quite yet Doll," he growls his voice stained with the effort to hold back his orgasm. I started to laugh and ignored his attempts to last longer I moved my head faster. "Fuck you're going to make me cum." I moaned in agreement - my voice only sending vibrations down his dick.
Keegan grunts loudly. His entire body tensing up as he loses control and erupts deep inside my throat. His cock twitches repeatedly, sending wave after wave of hot cum down my throat, I swallow every sip of his cum and finally hold my tongue out showing him my empty mouth. Keegan stared down at me in shock, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. His muscular thigh trembles as he tries to hold his composure. He gently traces down my jawline. "Fuck you're mine Doll" - I was definitely not his. 
Keegan lifted me and threw me on the bed as he spread my legs wide, positioning himself between my legs - his cock already hardening again. He looks down at me with a predatory grin, then lowers himself onto my waiting sex and pushes inside me with one powerful trust making me scream in pleasure and pain at the same time. 
He begins thrusting into me, hard and fast. The bed cracks under our combined weight as he takes me roughly. His muscular arms flex with each stroke. 
"Keegan, it feels so good."
"Doll," he groans his voice hoarse with lust, "you're so fucking tight I can barely hold back." 
"Don't hold back, Keegan. Fuck me."
He grins. "You like it rough doll?" I nodded and with a swift move, he flips me over onto my stomach and pulls my ass up, with brutal precision and starts a relentless pace as he fucks me from behind.  His large hand gripped me tightly leaving marks on my body. "This is what you want isn't it?"
I start to clench around him, only getting more aroused at his words. "Oh you're so wet," he murmurs, moving one hand between my legs to stroke my neglected clit. The added sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body causing me to arch my back and cry out his name.
"That's it, Doll, take it all." 
"I'm close - please, Keegan," I pleaded to him to finally release me.
"Cum for me Doll," he growls picking up the pace even more. His cock slams into me over and over again, each thrust sending a vibration through my core as he pinched my clit hard. I started to cry out of pleasure and finally came spasming around his dick - coating him with all my juices.  Keegan held me firm supporting my body weight as he let me ride out my orgasm while starting to kiss me all over my body and leaving marks everywhere. 
After my orgasm, he guided me on top of him and I started to ride him as his hands roam over my body, griping my hips tightly again. His eyes followed the movements of my breasts, his mouth watering at the sight. He pulled me forcefully tight onto his shaft brushing against my cervix so I would start to see stars, his hand now pressed against the familiar bulge inside my womb.
Keegan started to rub my overstimulated clit again as he finally chased after his release, with each thrust his hips slams powerful against me, he became slowly sloppy and uncontrolable begging me to finally release him.
I clenched tight around his dick, his eyes rolled back inside his skull. With a groan that echoes through the room, Keegan's hot seed erupts inside of me, filling me up completely. His cockhead twitches as he emptied himself inside of me- pushing his cum deeper into my hole.
"Fuck." He collapsed on top of me, our bodies still entwined, Keegan pressed his face into the crook of my neck inhaling my scent. "What the fuck was that, no women made me cum like that before."
"Well, I'm pretty skilled at these things."
"You're fucking amazing Doll." He slowly pulled his softening dick out of me watching his seeds drip down from my cunt into his mattress.
"As much as I like to see you coated in my cum, let me clean you up."
"Oh, what a gentleman."
"It's the least I can do after you gave me the best orgasm of my life." 
"Oh was it?"
"Don't lie to me it was fucking amazing for you too."
"A close third place Keegan." I grinned.
"Don't challenge me Doll." 
"Or what?"
"You will regret this."
"Why?"
"You like Price even tho I don't know why."
"And Price doesn't like me, so I can have all my fun while he has his with that other woman."
"His loss is my win."
He cuddled against me after he cleaned his seed from my thighs but as he fell asleep snoring the only thought in my brain was John. 
I'm screwed.
379 notes · View notes
cybsoo2 · 9 months ago
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yandere bts profile
╰┈➤ synopsis — Stories of seven men living their yandere lives.
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!bts x reader
╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k
╰┈➤ content warning — murder, yandere behavior, stalker behavior, manipulative behavior, graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, suicide, self-harm, vomiting, invasion of privacy, talk of religion
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—Kim Seokjin
yandere type — manipulative and overprotective
watch out for! — overprotection, isolating, self-imposing, monitoring, spy cams, invasion of privacy
Seokjin speaks sweet lies
He’s such a good liar that he’s even begun to deceive himself
He’ll tell himself these selfish sins are for the greater good
Misleading you and manipulating others is one of his many skills
Although he holds no affection for anyone else and is inclined to ruin their lives through manipulation, he doesn’t dare try it on you
Although the fate of your friends and foes is different, He’d never hurt you, wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless you asked
He doesn’t want your love to be a lie, to become warped and wrecked into images unknown
Instead, he leads you astray when you step too close to his sinful secrets
When a coworker with a crush comes too close for his liking, he’ll whisper the words, “He’s not good enough for you sweetheart.”
Your friends offer an invitation to get drunk one dark night, “It’s too dangerous to drink this late at night, stay inside with me instead.”
And maybe one morning, a slithering suspicion sits still in your mind
You ask him why he’s so protective, so passionate, so possessive, and he’ll tell you, “I love you like no other.”
Jin cares about your safety
He wishes you’d be healthy and happy all the time
Although, his methods of achieving this dream can have some consequences
He’ll worm his way into your life
He looms over you with a loving presence
But if he’s not careful enough, his ‘love’ can be suffocating
He monitors your actions, not stalking, but spying on you through other methods
He’ll set up cameras to make sure you don’t get hurt
Of course a fragile fawn like you needs him in order to survive
He takes the truth from your friends to figure out how you’ve been doing
He’ll read your messages to find the deviant souls that might harm you
He gives biased advice (Though you don't know it) in order to keep you close to him
Misleading your crushes by telling them that you’re already taken
He keeps you away from everyone else, so much so that some friends become distant and disturbed at the sight of him
Jin is willing to be whatever you what so long as he can stay by your side
He’ll be your friend, a brother, a lover
He’s perfect for you, if it weren’t from the looming sense of danger that falls in his shadow
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—Min Yoongi
yandere type — obsessive and possessive
watch out for! — murder, codependency, self-containment
Yoongi hides his true nature behind longing looks and a distant friendship
He keeps calm underneath a cold exterior
Yoongi stays to himself and watches you from afar
He may murder any pests that cross your path, but he wouldn’t dream of hurting you
You’d never assume he mutilates men and women while you sleep
He brings you glory through each slash and stab of scarlet
Yoongi just might be a cruel killer, but the worst types of killers are those who’ve become self aware
He holds a court of immoral justice in his head 
Killing based off bias, yet he can’t find himself to care
You’ve made him into a merciless man, which is why he can’t stop once he’s set his mind on something
He’ll put on a plaster face, he’ll be kind, and quiet, and normal 
Yet even if his body stays at shore, a selfish need sings him out to sea
Yoongi believes in codependency, you need him and he needs you
He may put himself in a position that demands him to be close to you
He could be a coworker, a classmate, or perhaps a neighbour
But you can bet that you’ve met him before
Yoongi is too dependent on the normality you two have to act on his obsession
He understands his sick self and knows the consequences if he confesses
Yoongi knows that he won’t be able to hide the horrors of who he truly is, so he doesn’t even take the chance
He believes in a loyal love and couldn’t lie to you if you had a real romance
He’ll take what he can get and make sure no one else can get in the way
His obsession is closed away in the corner of his heart (But that’s not exactly true since his whole heart belongs to you)
His passion is put on the shelf to collect dust in the dark
A distant dream that had no hope of really happening
It rots away in his ribcage, tearing him apart from the inside out
His sickness is a symptom of this strange fixation
He throws up three times a day
The bile burns through his throat and now drops of blood join the rest of his lost lunch
A running list of other side-effects include: sleep loss, hypersomnia, depression, loss of appetite, etc.
Yoongi is always wanting the dream that waits
Sometimes, he sees a sliver of it in his sleep
A feverish fantasy where you embrace like lovers and kiss without consequences
But then he wakes up to reality and wishes this illness had never infected him
Your love is like a leech, bleeding him to the bone and testing his tenacity
But then tomorrow arrives and he sees the smile he’s so lost in love with
His inertia is eternal and he’ll never give up what he has for his unlikely odds
Your life remains pretty much the same except for the missing men and women that hurt you many months ago
You would never suspect that the sweet, yet shy Yoongi has his heart in your hold
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—Jung Hoseok
yandere type — clingy, obsessive, and delusional
watch out for! — self-harm, suicide, dependency, delusion, mixing fantasy with reality, insecurity
Despite how intense his love can be, he never acts as more than desperate and delusional when it involves you
There’s no need to worry about mysterious murders when it comes to Hoseok
He doesn’t have the patience, planning, or guts to kill anyone 
He’d rather reap his worries and run away from the issue
He’s comes crying to you at the slightest inconvenience
You’re the savior of his soul who soothes all his sorrows
Such a saint you are, putting up with someone as pathetic and plain as this broken boy
Even when the roles are reversed and your upset under a burden of blue, Hobi will be your crying companion
He can’t help it, seeing you so sad evokes excruciating emotions
Someone as sweet as yourself doesn’t deserve to be depressed, which is why he’ll do anything it takes to be your sunshine in the storm
Hoseok is someone that clings close to you
Always following you around wherever you go and sticking by your side
Hoseok desperately depends on you, he may be your sunshine but you’re his hope
You’re the reason he’s like this after all
You gave him a glimpse of happiness, a unique thing in this large universe
He sees you as his angel, always right and a savior to the lovesick
Your kindness and compassion are what immediately intrigued him
But what made him unable to shake this obsession is how special you made him feel
You look into his eyes and you see him as an individual
You see his soul for all it’s crimson colours and still accept him
That’s when his delusion begins to distort the realm of reality
He truly believes you love him like he loves you
Why else would you take pity on a poor soul like him
His insecurities suffocate him, telling him he isn’t good enough for you
Yet you still stay, never once have you thought of the boy as a burden
This twisted love ties into his dreams
He dreams of the distant future: tangled in each others embrace, whispering your carmine confessions, and living out the rest of your lives as lovers
These fantasies feel so real that sometimes Hoseok swears they actually happened
That kiss you shared in the shadows last week? Totally real!
You falling asleep in his arms after crying out your confessions? Definitely happened according to Hoseok!
But when these fairy tales fizzle out, Hobi is left with lost dreams and a broken heart
Falling down from heaven, he’s struck by the hard-hitting truth
You don’t love him and even if you did he wouldn’t deserve it
He cries and tries to cut himself clean
Emptying out the red as it runs down the drain
He lets out the pain on his pinkening flesh
One day he may fall too far
Running the red blade over his arteries until all he can see is black blood
But he’s hopeful for now, this imaginary event would only happen if you turned to hate him
Screaming that he’s a psycho and a sinner
Crying cause you can never be alone, him always at your side
Telling him how much you hate him
Saying you wish to never see him again
It would take a lot for Hoseok to fully lose his heart
And the loss of your love is the one thing that would sink his sorrows
Without your light to guide him, it would send him overboard into the black abyss
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—Kim Namjoon
yandere type — manipulative and devotee
watch out for! — collector, murder, manipulation, worship, extreme obsession
Namjoon worships the water you walk on 
Yet this twisted type of religion isn’t right, it isn’t even real
In his mind, you’re an angel of purity and perfection 
You’re the cause of every good event that happens to him
You single handedly uplift his life and give him guidance 
And he’s just happy to be the devotee to his one and only divine
As aforementioned, Namjoon is a collector
His entire home is a museum of memories
Tiny trinkets are stacked on shelves, and useless objects are crowded into of the corners of his room
But every piece has a purpose, each and every object leads back to you
Outsiders may say he’s a hoarder, but Namjoon remembers why so many red bottles are shoved under his bed
You endorsed a beauty brand and he bought out the entire stock
Now every time he does his nightly routine, he can sense the faint feeling of your skin on his
Shoved in his drawers is the jewelry you just wore
Replicas of bronze bracelets or ruby rings
He wears noir necklaces like a noose around his neck
Chained up under your control, you decide his destiny
When he wears copies of your clothes, sometimes he feels slightly closer to you
Like he can hear you whispering right from wrong in his ear
Telling him what to do and how to do it
Namjoon doesn’t think for himself
His emotions are almost artificial, only responding with empathy when it relates to you
He’s lost interest in the social scene, but still goes out to keep connections
He talks to people only to take their trust and ask for favours in the future
It’s common knowledge to anyone that Namjoon is easily infatuated with you
He doesn’t try to hide it and uses peoples intrigue to gain intelligence
But the occasional onlooker will sometimes sense that this isn’t just a common crush
They might’ve found out about his stash of souvenirs stuffed up in his attic
Perhaps it was how obviously anxious Namjoon gets when you’re not near
Or maybe they noticed the lovesick looks he wishes your way
But when Namjoon finds out he’s got a follower, he knows what he has to do
He’s not big fan of murder, it takes up too much time and it’s a mess to keep hidden, he’d rather it be fast and efficient
So he sends his sins out to sea
He has no time for torture and no desire to drag this out
Namjoon ties up his victim in twine ropes 
The ropes wrap around the writhing fool
Tether twisting around their throat and cutting off their cries
The rope scratches scarlet off the skin, leaving long lines that bruise purple and pink
Namjoon ties a brick to their ankles, bringing them back down to the dark
It’s the murder of a man who knew too much, sinking out in the open ocean with all their knowledge never to be known
The weight of Namjoon’s actions never wrestles with his heart
Uncaring and callous, he never stops to consider that these heinous acts hurt his humanity
Because in his brown eyes, this is all your doing
You told him to get rid of the fool that fell too close to your godly grace
You can do no wrong so this must be the new morality
Namjoon will protect your perfection by never letting any noble men come too close
Your sweet love must be kept a secret, no other weakling worthy enough for it but him
And even though dark doubts still taint his thoughts, Namjoon will spend the rest of his worship proving he’s your lovesick slave
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—Park Jimin
yandere type — clingy and psychotic
watch out for! — isolating, self-harm, murder, suicide, dependency, jealousy, hysteria, insecurity, kidnapping
The gods gave Jimin a gift
A double wielded sword weighted with the opposite ends of emotion
His feelings are feverish and burn with a bright intensity
It’s all a sliding scale for him, switching out his soul for whatever worth
All-consuming emotions are what drives him
Day by day, Jimin is mostly described as empathetic and enthusiastic
And while Jimin is an awestruck soul, he also hides his more dark desires
Your love sets him alight
Melting away his walls to reveal the real monster
Violent thoughts flow thoughts his veins
It’s like a venom, monopolizing his mind and evoking his red wrath
Jimin isn’t an apathetic man, he cares too much about the things that make him tick and the love he lusts after
He’s incapable of indifference, always so engrossed in his emotions and their outcomes
Loving him would be like locking yourself in with a lion
Jimin worships you like you no other and makes you feel like you’re alone in ardent
But the burning candle that controls his heart will always end up blinding you
He’s too dependant, always running after you and following like a poor puppy
He’s too jealous, scared you’ll be stolen away by any other man
He’s overly enthusiastic, lovesickness so suffocating you have to beg to break free from his hugs
Jimin takes you two to solitude, liking to rest in your warmth without any else’s eyes on you
While the long list of turmoil may taunt you, it’ll only get worse when he’s upset 
Jimin has widespread worries that you’ll leave him like everyone else
Insecurities lay intimate in his mind and he’ll only ever speak them to his soulmate
He’ll spend countless days crying and trying to seek your sweet reassurance
When these dark doubts are ripe and rip his heart apart, you better not set him off or else the consequences are grave
When he’s like this, clinging to you and crying his heart out, it’s best to shush his sorrows and hold him to your heart
He’ll bawl his eyes out into your blue sweatshirt, white knuckles wrapped around the familiar fabric
He’ll try to hide the hiccups in the crook of your neck, slightly embarrassed for his emotional outburst
Jimin lies limply in your lap, tired out from all the tears but too vulnerable to let go
He chases away the cold in your warm embrace
You speak lovely lies of how you love him 
If this is all insanity and you truly don’t love him, then this outcome would be very different
Was it a rash rejection? Or careless cruelty too much for his heart to handle?
Either way Jimin would explode in a case of confusing emotions
He’d swipe the silver blade down to the bone, bleeding out all over the bathroom tile and trying to tell you how much he loves you
“I’m nothing without you and I won’t let you leave.”
“I’d kill to keep you, I’d die if you don’t love me.”
The universe is always against your relationship and if a situation where to arise where he can’t keep you, he may just kidnap you instead
A much more morbid scenario might even involve suicide
You escape and Jimin must now spend eternity alone
He’d wake up at death’s door with pills pouring out his mouth
A terrible taste lays on his lips and his stomach is swimming in poison
A life without his love is a life not worth living
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—Kim Taehyung
yandere type — devotee and stalker
watch out for! — murder, stalking, invasion of privacy, voyeurism, collector, murder-suicide, insecurity, monitoring , worship
Taehyung is a cruel romantic
His thirst for your entirety is insatiable
This growing greed is what makes him so bold
He takes risks none of the other boys would dare to dream of
Of course, he didn’t always act so impatient
This restlessness for your red romance had started small before it spiraled into disarray 
Subtle acts of stalking or stealing is how it all began
He just wanted to feel close to you, whether that be through physicality or by objects tainted with your touch
Taehyung is a collector of lost possessions and missing moral
But it didn’t take much time before he grew tired of absent objects and started stealing glances of you instead
He watches as you wander under the moonlight
Your features burning like fire in his brain
You’re so memorable under the moon that he can’t help himself  from painting 10,000 pictures of your perfection
Taehyung sees himself as an artist and you his muse
His drawings dictate your every move, illustrate your emotions, and reflect your beauty
The days spent drawing last from dusk to dawn, and although he could never be bored of staring at your face and flesh, an emptiness begins to claw at his chest
It creeps in from the corners of the room, a cold wind that washes over him and makes him shiver
It takes hold of your image in his mind, making each brushstroke dull and distorted
Your pretty portraits lack your warmth, as does our poor Tae
He’s persistent in his pursuit of lifelong love, and he won’t stop waiting until your his to take
If Taehyung were to actually take part in your life, you’d live an endless eternity of claustrophobia and catastrophe
It may take some time, but you’ll begin to see the signs of your impending downfall before you can stop it
Taehyung’s love is tender and touching
It’s make anyone awe at the sight, but they don’t understand what goes on in the shadows
You’re an inspiration for his art, so much so that your home starts to look like a house of mirrors
Every element of your eternity must be captured, from the bare bones down to trailing patterns at your fingertips
He studies you like a statue
Staring at you all day, swearing at himself whenever he has to blink
Taehyung believes that your bare beauty is an eternal enigma
Your one in a billion and must be treated as such
He tries to show you his distorted devotion everyday, and this may be the only amount of pure peace you get
He makes you feel special, a divine entity the deserves everything you ask for
You were crafted by the gods themselves just for his sweet satisfaction
You were made for each other and nothing can change that… until it does
Taehyung’s always had a hunch that men and women all over the earth were jealous of your relationship
They try to tear you apart, saying your tainted by his toxic touch
He’s running out of time, slipping through the sands of the hourglass
Lost in their lies, he takes you to the one place where no one can separate your souls, heaven
Taehyung likes to think it’s romantic even, like star-crossed lovers born to be destroyed
He doesn’t flinch in the face of death
He’s so lost in his sick sense of delusion that he honestly believes you two are tied between the stars
Tangled up in each other, meant to meet in every timeline and be lovers once again
Both your sad sorrow would soak the bed he holds you in
He calms your cries with a hand held up to your trembling lips
The shivering steel of the gun touches your temple
He says that death will not be dark with him to guide you
You won’t feel the Reapers cold caress when he’s here to hold you
Taehyung gives your lips one last quiet kiss
Breaking apart only to breathe and whisper the words, 
“I love you in every universe.”
“Till’ we meet again my dearest divine.”
His last moment with you is a memory of red redemption
With his thumb triggering the gunshot, he blows your brains out on the back wall
You’re head snaps back from the force and lays limply on your shoulder
Blood bleeds down and begins to soak the sheets
Taehyung chokes back his cries with his hand still holding the steel
He takes your cold corpse in his tender embrace and readies himself for a restful end
He lays down dark kisses to the bullet wound that tore open your temple
He weeps away his heinous actions and with you still held close to his heart, he puts the last bullet in his brain
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—Jeon Jungkook
yandere type — impulsive and delusional
watch out for! — murder, suicide, dependency, kidnapping, delusion, hysteria, impulsion
Jungkook is just a boy with a broken heart
Still learning the differences between desire and devotion
He twists the two into one, his passion is painful and his innocent intentions begin to wither away
That fiery fondness that once burned so bright now sends smoke signals of death and destruction
But what really matters is what moment of massacre you met him
Was it when he was still a shy soul? Susceptible to sin but also ready for redemption
Or was it when he was a man? Matured into murder and wrapped up in wrath
If you arrived early in the timeline of terror, then you’d probably be childhood friends
Playing pretend in a world without worries
Lost in a little kids imagination, you play house, yourself as the wife and him as the husband
This is when his kindergarten crush would begin to grow
As a child you’d call yourselves soulmates, but an adult eye would sense that someone was seriously wrong
Jungkook would throw tantrums whenever you left to leave, and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d turn to violence
He’d begin to grow dependant on his only friend
Playdates would pursue sleepovers which would then turn to him refusing to ever leave your side
Scared that you’d be snatched away if his attention fell too far
And as you grew up, got to know more about the horrors and hormones of the future, you’d eventually find yourselves as high-school sweethearts
Jungkook just like his old self, only better at hiding the bloodshed
The obsession would only grow as you get older
More things threaten your relationship and his anger and anxiety amplify 
But your impression of the innocent boy still stays the same
Sure he may be more dependant and delusional then most men, but he’s still your sweet boy
If an artist were to paint a portrayal of a lost lover, it would be Jungkook
Every day is a dream, you drink in his devotion and bathe in bliss
He washes away all your worries and takes on all life's labours
Your life would look pretty normal only because Jungkook’s good at burying all the bodies and biting back his paranoia
But when you bottle up your emotions for years on end, it’ll eventually explode in your face
Jungkook has always been impulsive, acting on his anger and making irrational decisions
His rage causes him to run on a rampage, killing anyone that could come too close
His fear tells him to hide you in the house and cut ties with the outside world
Jungkook is determined to obtain the life and love he obsesses over
Which is why when things don’t go his way, his has a fit of hysteria 
His tempers turns up to 100 and he may try to kidnap you
He’s abandoned all rationality and is recklessly driving your relationship off a cliff
His thoughts are so stubborn and he won’t stop once he’s set on a solution
No planning or preparation is taken in advance
He’s in a fit of frantic fear and reality is slowly slipping
Illusion is in his lungs, he can’t understand that he’s undoing all his progress thus far
So set on the end goal, he can’t see the death and decay until he holds it in his arms
It’s a sudden slaughter and he’s doesn’t processes your passing until you’re pale and purple
After a rainy night spent sobbing and still clutching your cold corpse, he comes to a conclusion
He can’t live with his actions, he’s a monster in a man’s body
He feels sick in his skin, he tries to scratch it off
Peeling off the pink to reveal the red undertones
His hands are still sore from the force he gripped your throat with, he tries to take those off too
He’s disturbed by what he’s just done
Jungkook gathers your blue body in his arms and takes you to the bathtub
He dies by your side, drowning in devastation
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most to least dangerous — jungkook, taehyung, jimin, hoseok, namjoon, jin, yoongi
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