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iniquitousyearning · 2 months ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 4th. tom riddle — bondage, begrudgingly!sub tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. | 2024

summary: revenge is sweet—but getting tom riddle to beg is so, so much fucking sweeter.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, reader gives tom a lust potion in retribution, PIV, desperate sex, tom so out of sorts he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, so much teasing it’s painful, dirty talk, light bondage, choking.

All is fair in love and war.

This might not be love, but it isn't just war, either. It's something messier, something darker, something with teeth. Every time you and Tom Riddle play this game it seems to follow the same trajectory, almost like a dance—step, feint, clash, retreat—a push and pull, a ritualistic give and take until someone takes a little too much and the tension boils over to something like this.

A locked door. A stolen breath. His body pressing yours into some surface and his hands on your throat, or in your hair, or at your waist with—

"You did something to me." Growled at your neck.

Right now, expectedly, is no different.

"What could I possibly have done to you?" You drawl, bored blowing off your breath. "The great Tom Riddle himself."

You want to sound dismissive, condescending—just enough to light a match to his already fraying patience—but Tom is too keyed up to take the bait, and that alone thrills you. You can feel the heat radiating off him. Smell the clean, addictive scent of his hair, the musk of dark magic religiously woven into his skin.

He smells intense, and it makes you dizzy.

Makes you reckless.

"You’re funny," he exhales, the force of it stirring your hair. He's ripping off his jacket now, rolling up his sleeves like he's ready to wrestle the devil himself. "This is your idea of revenge, isn't it?"

There's a shrug, something vindictive set in your shoulders just to get under his skin that much more—spurred on by the sheer state of him before you; those perfect curls a mess, onyx eyes burning with something primal.

"This, meaning what, exactly?" You watch the corded tension in his neck tighten as he shoves his hair back, hands visibly unsteady. "You'll have to be more specific."

He lets out a stifled groan from somewhere deep in his chest at that—he's struggling, and he knows you know it, a delicious little factoid that has his patience stretched so thin it's almost see-through—

"You're enjoying this," he snarls, forcing himself over to a nearby loveseat and slumping down into it. His voice is half-hoarse, strangled by the effort it's taking him to keep this much distance between you. "You—fuck."

There we go.

Unable to stall the grin off your lips any longer, you move forward with something predatory—something devious in each step perfectly placed just to spite him—a deliberate sway of the hips, the slight rise and fall of your chest—anything, really, just to break him that much faster.

He's right. This is your revenge.

"Oh, Tom," you creep around behind his chair, lips leaning toward his ear. "Are you feeling alright? You're looking hot."

You take note of the way his jaw pulses as he grinds his teeth. The way that one simple word from your mouth—spoken in the type of low, sultry tone that could make even a dead man hard—affects him.

"You're wicked," his head falls back to look up at you, lips glistening like he's salivating over the mere sound of your voice. Still, he's fighting it—still trying to deny you the satisfaction. "Did you know that?"

"You love it," you murmur, fingers slipping their way over his shoulders, down his chest. You lean closer, catching sight of the sharp bulge straining against his trousers. "Look how much you fucking love it."

Another stifled groan.

"You don't want to do this, sweetheart," he hisses—and there's the nickname, the nickname you've told him you hate. His way of retaliation. "Not now."

"And why not?" Your fingers dip lower, tracing over the definition of his abdomen. "Because you're not in control? Or because I am?"

He's fighting himself—you see the war play out on his face in the way his brows knit together—the way his lips part briefly only to swallow back whatever words were about to crawl out of them.

He's never been very good at being at anyone's mercy, least of all yours.

"You think you're in control," the words rasp against his throat, as if speaking them too loud might shift the balance. "You're delusional."

"Maybe," you whisper, lips brushing his cheek, the curve of a smirk curling into your voice. "Maybe I'm absolutely batshit." Your hand slips downward, slowly, over his stomach to his belt, fingers ghosting the buckle. "But we both know why you dragged me in here, Tom. Don't we?"

He scowls.

"You—"

The moment you brush against his bulge with the barest touch, his hips jerk forward—words disintegrating, raw instinct betraying his restraint.

"God, look at you." You nearly choke on the heat between you. If this isn't the sexiest fucking thing you've ever seen. "Just admit it, Tommy. Admit you need me to fi—"

You don't get to finish. Something in him snaps—

"Fucking—" he's moving on auto-pilot, hands reaching up to seize you and yank you closer. "—fix this, then."

In a blink, you're in his lap with his grip on your hips and he's growling—one hand slipping up to the back of your head to fist your hair and force your mouth to his before you get the chance to snap back—

And as soon as your lips collide it's a fight for dominance—teeth clashing as your tongues tangle, both of you biting and pulling at each other like animals. You're grinding against him and he's excruciatingly-hard beneath you and you can practically hear the intensity of it, both of you caught up in the sheer feral force of this—no rhyme or rhythm, no control—just hunger, desperate and unrelenting, like something unleashed that neither of you can put back in its cage.

After all but an eternity of this, you wrench back with force, breaking the kiss and shoving yourself upright. His head falls back against the chair, chest heaving, his lips slick and parted, pupils blown wide and glittering with fury—or lust. You’re sure it’s a bit of both.

He's trying to gain control, his hand still fisted in your hair, arms trapping you in place like he thinks he can still win this.

But you see him now, raw and undone, and you know better.

"You want me to fix this," you murmur, skating your fingers over his chest lightly enough to make him twitch. "Then put your hands on the armrests."

He wants to fight that, you can tell—wants to yank you back into him, wants to wield that weapon of a tongue—but other things take precedence now, like you, here, on his lap—so close to giving him everything he needs.

You think, to him, the demand must sound less like an order and more like salvation.

He all but slams his hands down onto the armrests.

You smirk. "Good boy."

Unsurprisingly, he scowls again, a dangerous flash in his eyes—but that doesn't stop his hips from jerking greedily when you grind down against him—fingers digging into the leather underneath them, twitching like they want to make you do it again.

That doesn't escape your notice.

"Mm. Just incase." Pulling out your wand, you cast a spell that binds his wrists to the chair. "I know how you are."

His expression shifts instantly, lips curling back into something like a snarl as he yanks at the invisible binds. They don't budge—your work is seamless—his own spellwork mastered and turned against him.

"I'm going to fucking digest you," he spits, all venom and heat, eyes blazing as he pulls harder. "When I get out of this chair, you'll—oh, you'll beg for-"

You shut him up with your mouth, crushing your lips to his. It's all teeth and tongue, desperate and wild, as your nails rake down his chest and he arches into you—

"Who says I don't like it when you make me pay, baby?" You breathe, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw a groan from deep in his throat. "Maybe it's my favourite part."

For a moment he doesn't respond—he knows that's true. You love this game too much not to toe the line when possibilities arise. He's pulling uselessly at the binds again as you roll your hips against him, dragging him further into ruin.

"You are," he chokes out, head tilting back as your teeth scrape along his jaw, "an infuriating, wicked little witch."

You huff against his skin, against the pulse point at his throat and the sensitive area under his ear—he's squirming—making strangled, animal sounds that have you seeping through your panties.

"You're only just noticing?" You’re drinking in his hypersensitivity for all it's worth. "You're losing your touch."

He scoffs, or tries to—it comes out closer to a moan stuck between shallow breaths.

"Noticed it...the day I met you," he gasps, hips jerking up as you rock against him. "But, fuck—you've gotten a hell of a lot worse."

Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it's the company you keep—specifically, the one pinned beneath you.

"You're just mad I'm beating you at your own game," you’re grinding down harder, fingers drifting to the buttons of your blouse. "You're a terrible loser."

"And you're—" he starts, but his words falter when you pull the last button free and shrug the fabric off your shoulders, exposing black lace and soft skin. "—an insufferable winner."

"I think the real problem," you toss your shirt to the floor, hands returning to slide down his chest again, undoing his buttons now. "Is that you secretly love losing to me."

You'd think that would earn another snarl from him—or perhaps a sharp retort about how he'd never lose to anyone, or how he’d never enjoy being at your mercy—but he's clearly too far gone to keep up with even that as he watches you, all but trembling at your touch.

"Stop—“ he twitches when your fingers glide over his exposed chest, trailing lower. "—talking."

"Make me," you make your way to his belt buckle, taking your time to undo it, sliding the leather free before moving to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down even slower. "Oh, wait. You can't."

He’s helpless to fight the growl you force out of him at that—a vicious sound that makes you clench. His fingers tighten around the armrests, yanking hard against the bonds holding him in place. Useless, you both know, but it doesn't stop him from trying, from straining against them like he might will them to break through sheer desperation alone.

He exhales through his teeth. "Stop teasing."

"Now where's the fun in that?" you dip your hand below the waistband of his boxers. He jerks beneath you as your fingers tease just enough to make his breath catch. "You should be grateful l'm taking pity on you—" your tone as soft as it is mocking, "—being oh so kind to help-"

Another groan, another almost snarl. "Stop. Teasing."

Oh, how the tables turn. You know precisely how he's feeling—you've been here like this, with him, a million times before. It’s the sweetest torture. One you’re sure he doesn't want you to stop—not really. Not with a lust potion dripping from his pores.

He fucking needs this.

"And what happensssss," you drag your words out as your fingers glide slow, featherlight strokes up and down his rock of an erection. "If I don't?"

His response is a wrecked string of profanity—some of it strangled, some of it guttural, and none of it in English. He's not even remotely coherent anymore, and you're not surprised. Eloquence had abandoned him long before you'd even stepped into the room.

"I will—" he hisses through clenched teeth as you tease your thumb over his leaking tip, "— fuck—I will fuck your ass so hard—“

Now that gets a moan from you—the filthiness of his words, at the way his voice drops so dark and low it should probably be a fucking felony. He's swearing, writhing, desperate, and you're absolutely dripping from it—from the way Tom Riddle has unraveled into this devastating, feral thing underneath you.

"Is that what you're thinking about right now?" Another murmur, lips brushing against his ear as you shift to tug his pants and boxers down. "Fucking my tight ass? Punishing me?"

"Without mercy," he spits, breath hitching as you free him—his cock springing out, thick and throbbing, twitching in time with his shallow gasps. "Fuck—"

You pull away to get a better look at him—and god, the sight almost makes you lose your mind. The man always so put together, always so self assured and smug and in control of every goddamn thing—reduced to this.

"Such a vulgar mouth, for such a pretty face," leaning forward, you lick a slow, deliberate stripe up his neck. He tastes like sweat and sin. Just how you like him. "Tell me more."

"Fuck," his head tips back involuntarily, exposing his throat to you like it's instinct. He's twitching as you grind your slick heat along his shaft, soaking him, teasing him until his hips buck up against you. "Put me inside you—"

You're barely holding onto yourself, every roll of your hips against him leaving you dizzy and aching—but you drag it out, grinding down harder.

"That's an order, isn't it?" You breathe, catching his earlobe between your teeth. "You giving me orders now?"

"I'm giving you pleas," he rasps. "You fed me a potion that's made me so hard it physically aches, and now you're sitting here—fucking teasing me—"

"Retaliation," you reply with a smile. "You're the one who thought it was a good idea to feed me a truth serum before dinner at Malfoy's."

That night still lingers in both of your minds—things involuntarily said that can't ever be unsaid. Things that still make Draco avoid your eyes at every turn.

"A mistake," he grits out. In any other moment, you know he'd be smirking. "A mistake—I'll admit it, fuck-"

"You're not the type to make mistakes," it’s a true statement, one overridden by the feeling of his dick twitching as your hips still, going maddeningly idle. "You wanted the Malfoy’s to know I'm yours. And now, well, now I have to show you that you're mine."

There’s a moments pause at that. One that makes you realize just how loud your pulse is pounding in your ears. Tom looks at you, holding your eyes until—

"I am," he concedes, finally throwing in the towel with a gasp that's half desperation, half devotion. "Yours. So fucking take what's yours."

"Oh, baby," you purr, cupping his cheek in your palm. He leans into it without realizing, like he's starving for your touch. "I always do."

And with that, you rise up—slick soaked inner thighs leaving damp spots against his half pulled down trousers—humming with a smirk as you slide a hand over his chest, nails raking over his skin, holding him down against the chair—

"Be still," an order. "Or I'll take it a hell of a lot slower."

His whole body shudders at that—but does what he's told and keeps still—chest swelling with each shallow breath as he watches you��dark eyes flicking from your lips to your tits to your cunt—muscles straining and wrists firm against their binds.

"Just—do it," he mutters through parted lips and clenched teeth—squeezing his eyes shut. "Please."

The world stops. Time freezing to nothing. You swear you'd forgotten how to breathe.

Please. Like it's a holy thing, a sacred word to be used only in worship. Like he's said something he's never uttered in his life. Please. Like a prayer, like a begging benediction. You'd never loved the sound of anything from his lips quite like you do that.

You will hear it again. You long to make him say it until he forgets every other word he knows.

"How could I refuse that?" His eyes fly open as you reach down, gripping his aching length and gliding the head against your soaked slit. "Fuck, you're so big. So hard."

"Hard," he echoes as his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. "Because this is—torture."

"And whose fault is that, Tommy?" You taunt, just barely sinking down, letting the tip of him sit against what you know he wants. "Oh, that's right. Yours."

"Mine," he grunts before his patience finally snaps in half and he jerks his hips up—shoving his cockhead inside you with a strangled moan. "Fucking mine."

Oh, Merlin help you.

Your head falls back with a moan, eyes slipping shut as the sensation steals the breath from your lungs. He stretches you in the way only he can, and for a moment, you think you should punish him for disobeying you by taking back control—but you can't bring yourself to care about anything other than how fucking good it feels.

"Yours," you breathe, rolling your hips to take him just an inch deeper. "All yours."

"More," his voice cracks, the veins in his neck straining. "Take more. Please."

Theres the word again—please. It makes you weak, makes you greedy. Makes you break and give in on the sheer knowledge of how much it fucking pains him to say it.

"Oh, gods"" you moan, shifting your hips to take him deeper still, inch by aching inch. "Fuck."

"Take it," he sneers, as if it's his turn to taunt you. Even like this, he's still the same bastard. "You can take more than that."

You curse lowly and sink your nails into his chest for it—because it's the kind of challenge you can't win, even like this you know you'll still lose. He knows it too.

"I can," you hiss, sinking another inch deeper, and then another. "But can you?"

"Can I?" There’s a mocking lilt to his voice that knows. "Release my wrists, and we'll see."

Christ. That's a question you don't want to answer because you know anything other than yes would be a lie. It's tempting. You know as soon as you let him go he'd put those beautiful hands to use—he'd take back control and you'd immediately let him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

Even if this is supposed to be his punishment.

"Be," you gasp, sinking down all the way and clenching tight as he kisses your cervix. "Quiet."

He lets out a sharp, strangled curse—a guttural string of something you think might either be Latin or Parseltongue—something rough and beautiful all at once—and you decide, right then, that it's undoubtedly the most sinfully delicious thing you've ever heard.

"I love it when you swear," you manage to breathe out through moans, rolling your hips and savouring the stretch, the ache, the impossible fullness of him inside you. “And I love it even more that it's in languages I don't know—makes me wonder what you're saying."

"Things that'll get me slapped," he grunts, and the tone he uses is the one that promises trouble—trouble, if you let him go. "Or hexed, perhaps."

"Mm. I should hex you right now. I’m considering it," you’re gasping between moans, pleasure buzzing in your brain. "So hard."

"I think, right now," the words split between a groan as your nails leave faint red lines on his shoulders—as you clench around him again, dragging your slick walls up and down his shaft in rhythm. “If you tried to hex me, I’d let you. If it meant you’d keep going.”

You almost take him up on it. You love him like this far too much. So much it’s almost pathetic.

"Good boy." You force the words out, fighting through the sting on your cervix every time he bottoms out inside you, slamming against it. "So. Fucking. Good."

"Jesus Christ," he chokes, muscles taut as the veins in his neck strain. His hips jerk up to meet you at every bounce, greedy for more. "Don't stop."

"Oh, I won't," you dig your nails deeper into his skin for balance. The sting shoots through his body, his reaction delicious. "Not until l've made you swear to every god in the sky."

"Shouldn’t take long," he hisses through his teeth, shoulders cresting as your pace grows faster, more erratic. "I'm practically praying now."

"Good," you breathe, thighs burning as the heat coils tight and relentless inside you, every roll of your hips making you feel fuller, wetter, closer to falling apart. "I want to hear you pray my name."

"You're sadistic," he hisses. "Fuck."

"Pot, kettle," you taunt, biting lightly at the curve of his neck—not hard enough to bruise, but just enough to make him feel it.

The sound he makes—half moan, half growl—is filthy.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You murmur, dragging your lips toward his ear, breath molten. "You like pain. I know you do."

"I'd like to inflict some right about now," his voice breaks as you nip at his earlobe. "My hands on your throat. That smart fucking mouth—"

"Mmm," you hum, rolling your hips slower, deeper. "And what would you do with it?"

"Fill it," his voice is broken, head tipping back as his body begs for release. "Fuck. I'm so fucking close."

"You're filthy when you're desperate," you whisper, dragging your hand up to his throat, fingers wrapping around it, squeezing just enough to make his breath hitch. "I fucking love it."

His eyes flash—for a moment, you're not sure how he'll take it—your hand curling around his neck, fingers pressing against the pulse hammering beneath his skin. The unpredictability of him—always teetering between fury and something far more intense—makes you hesitate, even in this state. You wonder if he'll snarl, buck you off, or somehow counteract the spell to rid of the restraints entirely—

But all he does is swallow against it, hips jerking up, cock pressing bruisingly deep—dark eyes fixing on your lips, wild and glassy with want—

And then, he fucking grins. "Tighter."

"Freak," you moan far too loudly, heat pooling low in your belly as you oblige, tightening your grip. You bounce faster, adrenaline fuelling you, panting growing sharper with every wild bounce. "Cum for me."

"Like I have a choice," he rasps, voice shredded, his teeth gritted as his eyes squeeze shut. "Fuck—ffffff—"

The sound he makes when he finally breaks—guttural, filthy, your name torn from his lips—is fucking devastating. Devastating enough to drive you directly to your own orgasm, eyes rolling back and crying out words you aren’t even aware of as he shudders and jerks and tenses underneath you.

"Oh, fuck-yes," you breathe, riding him through it, clenching hard until the aftershocks start to fade out, as you slow your pace. “Tom—“

"God," he gasps, his head falling back in exhaustion, voice stumbling over the word. "God. Fuck."

The incoherence coming from his mouth is a treat—and through your fog, for only the most fleeting of moments, you wonder who exactly he's praying to when he says that.

His chest is rising and falling like he's just run miles, sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. His head rolls forward, eyes still heavy-lidded, and when they meet yours, there's something feral still dangling in their depths. A lingering hunger that makes your breath hitch.

"That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" He finally speaks after he finds whatever oxygen is left in the room. "To ruin me?"

You're still seated on him, still full of him, and even now, you can feel him twitch inside you. Strong potion.

You exhale with a smirk, feeling your pulse slow. "You're still in one piece, aren't you?"

He laughs—dark, deep, and utterly sinful. It's the kind of laugh that promises you haven't won anything at all. His wrists flex against the bindings, and you swear the leather creaks.

"For now," his tone is almost gentle, but the fire in his eyes betrays him. "But if you think I'm going to let you walk away after this..." he grins. "You're more delusional than I thought."

Oh, Tom. If you only knew.

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thewitchblue · 3 months ago

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Bruce isn't actually a playboy to the dismay of others. His wife is a shapeshifter and simply changes skins to keep up the reputation. Whenever someone comes to the door or she goes to a gala to support Bruce, she changes into a new person, unable to keep her hands off him as he gives whoever he's speaking to a smirk.

He wanted to flaunt her around, but he needed to keep Batman as far away from Bruce Wayne as he possibly could. This was the only way they could kill the rumours before they began. Nobody would suspect a playboy to be a fighter period, let alone be Batman.

It was actually her idea to use the playboy act to keep Batman's identity away from Bruce Wayne. They would never suspect Bruce Wayne. The closest the public has gotten to solve the masked vigilante was saying they are friends because of how linked Bruce is to the police. Even then, the rumour was killed quickly.

That didn't make keeping her a family secret easy, however. The boys nearly told the public multiple times because of how excited they were to have a mom like Batmom. If Bruce didn't intervene, Batmom would have been exposed, and it would have been all over the news. They are keeping her secret until they absolutely have to reveal her.

That all changed when the Justice League arrived at Wayne Manor after the heroes found out about his contingency plans. It was a trust exercise. One Bruce wasn't happy about, but he considered it necessary.

Nobody knew about her or her shapeshifting (which was the coolest thing ever to the kids) except their family. Batmom was kept a guarded secret and loved deeply by both of the kids she helped adopt so far.

The boys quickly learned to keep her a secret after a couple of close calls in interviews. Not even their friends knew of her. She always wore a different skin when they were around and acted all embarrassed about being caught as another fling.

Batmom waved to them as Bruce was giving them a tour. She was relaxing in the kitchen with Alfred. They were having a pleasant conversation that Batmom considered more engaging than the heroes. She assumed they would simply look the other way and dismiss her as another woman Bruce Wayne managed to reel in. After all, this is her regular skin. A skin she rarely wore outside the Manor.

"Woah, who is this?"

Barry asked Bruce with a flirtatious smile. Bruce glared at the speedster as he made his way to his wife's side.

"My wife."

He replied with a voice that promised violence if the heroes attempted to flirt with her. He pulled out a necklace that held his wedding ring on it and held her hand. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he'll be dammed if someone stole the best thing to ever happen to his family.

"You have a wife?!"

Oliver questioned loudly. Bruce quirked a confused eyebrow at Oliver. His friend seemed stunned. The playboy Bruce Wayne has a wife, and nobody knows about her?

"I see you with a new woman constantly. When did...this happen?"

With a timid smile, his wife waved her hand while shape-shifting into an entirely different woman. She changed her entire appearance. Hair, clothes, eyes, even her face and body type were different.

"This happened ten years ago, Oliver."

The heroes had never been more surprised. The cold, bad Bat had such deep love for his family that he couldn't even keep the adoration off his face when he looked at her.

Just as they began to digest the fact Batman is married, an excited seven-year old child came sliding in with an older kid grinning behind him. They seemed to be in a game of tag before the older one launched the younger into Batmom's arms with a massive grin on his face.

The woman giggled as she caught him, twirling in a circle while tossing him in the air until he, too, fell into a fit of giggles. She held him like Simba from the Lion King for a moment to show him off before holding him normally. She peppered kisses all over his face with a smile until he began squirming in her arms.

She grinned at her boys. They were her everything. She adopted them quickly after she married Bruce. The boys were excited to have a full family, so they agreed immediately to the adoption. They were her boys from day one.

She decided to show little Jason mercy, apparently as she stopped her affection attack. However, she kept him in her arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. She turned back to the heroes in normal clothes with a beautiful smile.

"Oh, baby birds, say hello to Bruce's colleagues."

Suddenly, both young boys were attempting to hide with shy smiles. Even the extroverted Dick was timid at first. Neither of them were used to the type of attention they got whenever they went out with Bruce. Not even Dick, who was a performer.

The elder of the two wrapped his little arms around her waist, which caused her to ruffle his hair affectionately. Suddenly, the heroes all understood why Bruce fell hopelessly in love with the mother in front of them.

"Wait, wait, wait, you kept a shapeshifter from us?!"

Barry asked. His brain seemed to finally compute the facts in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the happy family. Never in a million years would he ever think the Batman could be a family man with a wife and children. Batmom casually said,

"I'm afraid that's my own decision, Barry. We all agreed it would be for the best that I was a secret. We tried to keep the boys a secret, too, but they both seemed to have... other plans." She, quite honestly, never even considered fighting. Sure, she could, but her life was with her boys and Bruce.

A playful smirk played on her lips as she looked at her children as they sheepishly smiled back.

Jason squirmed in his mother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. He was still getting used to the unconditional love everyone in the family gave him.

With a gentle kiss on the top of Jason's head, she finally sets him down only for Bruce to pick him up again and place him on his shoulders. Tiny Jason squawked in protest. Dick snickered at his mother's side, still partially hiding behind her.

She smirked and playfully bumped him with her hip. Her family is her life, and she plans to keep them as close to her as possible. The League watched Batman and their Batmom play together with grins. They loved Batmom already.

#batmom #x reader #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x reader

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izzys-bluebell-woods · 11 months ago

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I feel like people have been quick to dismiss Mimzy's importance in Ep. 5

I've been seeing a lot of Mimzy hate, mainly on Reddit, where people are genuinely REALLY hating on Mimzy because she was annoying, interrupted Hell's Greatest Dad, and served no purpose in the episode.

Whilst the previous two points are down to personal taste, I feel like considering Mimzy's role in this episode nonexistent, or that she just exists for fanservice here, is greatly overlooking what this episode is about. There are two focuses to the episode, one of course being Lucifer and his relationship with Charlie, but it's also the deepest look into Alastor's actual character that we've gotten so far, I'd say significantly more than the finale. We see two sides to Alastor that both Mimzy and Luficier bring out, and I wanted to kind of highlight my thoughts and what the episode was trying to show us about Alastor that we wouldn't have gotten if Mimzy wasn't there.

Alastor's instant hostility towards Lucifer makes it incredibly clear that Alastor can't keep his cool all the time - his two biggest flaws is that he is power-hungry and incredibly petty. From what we know - and what is likely to be true considering Lucifer is shown to have no idea who he is - Alastor has never met Lucifer before this. If the theories that he belongs to Eve/Lilith in some way are true, there is reasonable ground to say that this immediate hatred towards him could be justified, maybe it was in some way Lucifer's fault that he's caught in this deal and this is his way of taking it out on him or trying to uphold his end of that deal.

But look how much his mask slips, look how annoyed and angry he is. If this was a font that he was doing to somehow make Lucifer intentionally mad at him for some sort of personal gain, he wouldn't have looked so murderous. Him just leaning down and hissing 'fuck you' right in his face was so shocking for the audience purely because no one has done that to him before, no one has pushed him so much.

This indicates that Alastor isn't just playing some sort of game, Lucifer genuinely got under his skin, because he is so obviously more powerful than Alastor and he HATES that. He hates being reminded that he's not the biggest meanest in Hell - this was explored more in his showdown in Adam, but at the time of this episode's release, this is the most flawed and 'human' Alastor has ever felt. He's dropped from this force of mysterious evil, to randomly picking a fight with the Devil himself because he was so catty about being shown up.

As further reinforced with him snapping at Husk when he also reminded him he wasn't as all-powerful as he sees himself to be, Alastor will lash out at those who make him feel like he isn't the one in control and pulling the strings of everything - we finally see a hint of motivation for him sticking around at the hotel at all.

But then there's Mimzy.

We immediately go from seeing Alastor at his worst, at his most aggravated and petty, to seeing him literally melt into a hug. The demon who, according to Viv herself, hates physical contact so much that he would distort and melt himself to get away from it. We so quickly go from being shocked that Alastor is behaving so spitefully to now having to take in Alastor being ecstatic to see someone who he considers to be a friend.

Having this be so directly after his massive tiff with Lucifer is so important. If this wasn't included in this episode, our only insight into the person Alastor actually is would be that he's an asshole. Picking fights with people just because he wants to stay on top, that its the thing he cares about the most. But Mimzy does come along, and we see that it isn't true at all - and its confusing, and that is so perfect.

You think you're getting somewhere with the person Alastor is, but you see that, hold on, there is actually a semblance of heart in there, here he is actually caring about someone. But what is so important about this being a relationship he shares with Mimzy, and something that couldn't at all be explored with, say, Rosie, is the kind of person Mimzy is.

Mimzy double crossed Alastor. And, according to Husk, this is a somewhat regular occurace. We can see that Alastor is annoyed at her, and I think most of us were prepared for him to do something to her like he was doing to those loan sharks a few seconds before this confrontation.

But...he doesn't. Not at all, he doesn't even snap at her. Perhaps scold her a bit, but other than that, he is so nice to her and just politely tells her to leave and that is that. He does more shit to Lucifer, who literally hasn't done nothing but exist in his presence, than someone who just trampled all over his ego by using him, both as a shield and, well, somewhat emotionally.

In this episode, Alastor is shown to lash out. Easily. All you have to do is be more powerful than Alastor, and he won't like you - that's the impression you'd get from his scenes with Lucifer alone. But we have his scenes with Mimzy as well, and you're being told, hold on, no, that isn't quite correct, because he's not acting the same here. What has Alastor got to gain from letting Mimzy get off of this with no repercussions? Mimzy, someone who has probably sold her soul to someone else and has absolutely no power at all.

Nothing. He does it because Alastor cares about her.

I don't think I would have considered his friendship with Rosie to be genuine at all if it wasn't for his friendship with Mimzy. Rosie is so powerful, and Alastor has so much to gain from being in close cahoots with her, but it's so clear that he doesn't care about that, but he sees her as an equal. If all we saw from Alastor in that episode was him lusting for power, it would render the way we see all his relationships with people to be of some gain to him somehow. ESPECIALLY Rosie and other Overlords like Zestial.

This makes Alastor and Mimzy's relationship arguably one of the most interesting in the show. Someone who is so powerful and unpredictable, who hardly cares for anyone other than himself, caring about this absolute gremlin of a woman. He likes Mimzy purely because she's fun to be around, a sentiment you might expect from Alastor, with his stated reasoning for joining the hotel being to laugh at people, but he's in no way laughing at Mimzy. You can tell that he doesn't intimidate her at all, because she has the absolute balls to pull off the loan shark thing with him.

Mimzy and Lucifer's interactions with Alastor has made him to be one, if not THE most interesting character in the show. Because you're exploring two contradictory sides of the same coin at once. One where he gets so worked up and angry over not having the power he sees himself as having, and one where he's visibly hurt that his long time friend used him. In one instance you have him pulling out all the stops to be as hostile as he could be to Lucifer without actually hurting him (even though he clearly wants to), and another where he has full range to hurt Mimzy as much as he wants to, but he doesn't.

Alastor cares about people. But also disregards people like playing cards. He is such a mixed bag, so far from being one note, and you wouldn't have gotten that insight without Mimzy.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #mimzy #hazbin hotel mimzy #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel analysis #also very telling that reddit shits so strongly on one of the only plus size women in the show over her acting like a bitch in hell #you know #like so many other characters in the show

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beansprean · 1 month ago

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WHAT WE CLUE IN THE SHADOWS: A FINALE CONSPIRACY BOARD

So. WWDITS may have the actual balls to do this to us. and I for one am INCREDIBLY excited for the possibility. If you're a WWDITS fan and haven't seen Clue (1985), I highly recommend taking 95 minutes to do so before the finale. Just in case.

Clue is my favorite movie, I have probably seen it upwards of 100 times for real, and I can recite it from memory with 90% accuracy. I also have the pleasure of owning and playing the WWDITS-themed Clue game, which is centered around finding out who stole the witch's skin hat and where in the house they hid it. I don't know if that will play into the finale at all, but it's something to think about.

The thing about Clue (the film), if you aren't aware, is that there are three different endings. On the vhs/dvd, you see all three in a row between 'that's how it could have happened, but what about this?' title cards. In theaters, there were three versions of the movie (labeled A, B, and C) that were dispersed to different theaters, so depending on where and when you went to see it you would see one of 3 endings. (It's kinda unclear which letter corresponded to which originally, so my labels will be assuming a 1:1 comparison between the order of the home version of Clue and the airing order of the WWDITS episodes.) The Clue endings are not all made equal, and on the home version, the final ending is announced as 'what really happened.'

So allow me to take a moment to talk about how the different endings work in context to each other and the film, and how that could translate to three different endings for WWDITS.

CLUE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT (for real, go watch it)

(last chance to watch Clue go)

Ending#1: "Communism is just a red herring"

In this ending, the first one that plays in the home version, Miss Scarlet is revealed to be the murderer. She is a snarky, sarcastic madam who runs a "hotel and telephone service to provide men with the company of a young lady for a short while" and has policemen on her payroll. This is what I would consider the expected ending, the one that makes sense for most viewers. It's not shocking, but it's funny and well acted and it makes the most sense. Miss Scarlet has the right personality for murder, was in the most convenient area of the house to commit them, and had Yvette (the maid, formerly one of Miss Scarlet's call girls) committing some of the murders at her direction, so she had enough alibis to not make her too obvious. Many people watching this movie for the first time will have her high on their suspect list.

This ending also dismisses the idea of 'dangerous communism' that had been a thread throughout the film (as it is set in 1953 during the second Red Scare) as a misdirection. Miss Scarlet isn't stealing government secrets to betray the US; she's doing it to make money. The real danger all along was capitalism, something that s6 of WWDITS has said repeatedly.

So, to recap, this is the Standard Ending. The Second Best ending. Version B.

Ending #2: "Mrs. Peacock did it all."

This one, played second in the home version, is in my opinion the weakest ending. It reveals Mrs. Peacock, the neurotic, hysterical, and allegedly politically corrupt wife of a senator, as the murderer. She's hilarious and fantastic to watch throughout the whole film and I love her, but this charm drops after the reveal and she becomes cold and drab as she threatens her way to safety. She committed all the murders herself, which would be very difficult to achieve with the tight timing and her position in the basement during the search.

She ends up being caught outside the house by a police inspector, who had earlier shown up disguised as an evangelist telling her to "repent, the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Interestingly, they originally filmed him immediately shooting her dead without provocation, but they thought that was too dark and edited it into an arrest instead (which is why there is such a quick cut after he pulls his gun, and we only hear her rather than see her after that). This is the 'repent for your sins' ending. You do bad things, bad things happen to you.

The obligatory "it's always who you least expect" ending. The Still-Good-But-Not-The-Best Ending. Version C.

Ending #3: "You're Mr. Boddy!"

This is "how it really happened" - the twist ending! The hero was the villain, the villain was just a pawn, and everyone committed a murder in the house to cover their own asses. Prof Plum killed the fake Mr. Boddy, Miss Scarlet killed the cop, Mrs. Peacock killed Mrs. Ho (the cook), Mrs. White killed Yvette, Colonel Mustard killed the motorist, and Wadsworth/Mr. Boddy killed the singing telegram girl.

Mr. Green, who reveals he works for the FBI, kills Wadsworth/Mr. Boddy and arrests the rest of the cast. Understandably the best and most exciting ending (though not without some plot holes) that everyone loves. We get a surprising reveal from two of our main characters that not only changes the context with how you view them, but informs aspects of their character that have been there throughout the film! Now we understand why Wadsworth retained control of the house and the timeline of events, why he was so familiar with the house, and why this entire thing was orchestrated in the first place. We also understand why the cowardly and clumsy Mr. Green was consistently the first to jump to help and defend the other characters, even when it meant putting himself if physical danger. Unfortunately this ending also suggests that he was only pretending to be gay (wouldn't that be a twist for Guillermo lol), but he could also just be in a lavender marriage which is what I choose to believe.

This ending also has the iconic 'flames on the side of my face' scene and repeats 'communism is a red herring', this time in the context of Mr. Boddy's intention to continue blackmailing them all now that they have taken care of anyone who could have pointed the finger at him.

This is the True Ending. The twist you didn't expect but are delighted to find. The 'nothing was as it seemed' endng. The ending that is the most intentional and complete, where everyone gets to shine. Version A.

So what will we be doing in those shadows?

We can assume that e11 will not revolve around finding a murderer, but it does, from what we've seen in the trailer, revolve around making a wife for the monster. Do we get three different wives? Three different actors to play her? Three different superhero identities for Nandor and Guillermo? Three different levels of nandermo: one with a handshake, one with a hug, one with a kiss? Three different explanations for the origin and/or purpose of the documentary? (this is my personal favorite) Or is each ending entirely divorced from the other? Only time will tell.

What I'm leaning toward is that each episode will come up to the same turning point - a decision, a reveal, etc. The first two versions will have reasonable possibilities, the first less surprising but more enjoyable than the second, and the third... The third will be what really happened, and pull a twist no one saw coming. Perhaps even a character will reveal a hidden identity. Maybe, just maybe...we get Simon the Devious.

I only hope the order of the episodes doesn't change between channels or time zones because that will make things very confusing when liveblogging it in the group chat lmao.

#wwdits #wwdits speculation #clue 1985 #wwdits season 6 #wwdits s6 spoilers #wwdits series finale #my post #not art #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #id in alt text #me continuing to make everything about simon the devious i just miss him

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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✨️Bodhi durran ✨️ that's it.

BUT ALSO

Imagine him being the most amazing boyfriend. I don't know if you have seen lockwood and co on Netflix but that scene where lockwood dresses Lucy's wounds and is looking dead ass deep in her soul smiling, my god bodhi material.

To get to my point if you could write a one shot of bodhi finding out you're injured and going ballistic to anyone that let her out of their sight and got hurt and then finding you trying to wrap your wounds and instantly going all soft and helping I would be forever in your debt

Ps. If you haven't watched lockwod and co it's absolutely worth it.

I haven't watched the show so if this isn't exactly how you pictured this, I apologize✨🤍

Worries

"Where is she?", Bodhi yanked onto one of the recruits, who was in the same formation as you, shirt up. The poor lad looked like he was about to shit himself at best as he stumbled over words. The thing was... Bodhi was fun and games until he wasn't. And that wasn't part come a lot sooner than expected. Considering that the past weeks of him being a section leader had been rather calm. But that sorry fuck just had to show off. Had to break formation. Had to try to prove his piss poor ego and get you hurt.

"You're speechless all of a sudden?", Bodhi shook the guy in his grip, "Answer the goddamn question before you end up like a roasted chicken on the solstice table". You could hear a pin dropping in the background that's how silent the squad had gotten. "I think I saw her entering the building", some other recruit cut in. Bodhi narrowed his eyes, "You think or you saw?", shoving the quivering male he stepped aside sizing everyone up.

"You weak shits better listen and better listen well", he practically growled through gritted teeth. His first instinct was to run after you. He saw the blood gushing from your hand after the coalition. But he also knew his title. Causing a bigger scene than necessary would only turn heads your way. And neither of you needed that. Neither of you wanted to become a target leading to one another. "If any of you will ever do anything similar to what Marco did today", Bodhi grunted. Gods, he felt like Xaden. "I will skin you myself and believe me your dragons will smoke you alive. Dismissed", he practically roared as the recruits hurried away. Bodhi ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.

"She is up in your room", the voice made Bodhi jolt slightly. Garrick was leaning against one of the pillars. "I passed her, she's fine, man", Garrick continued to speak since Bodhi just stood there, "You did well here too. More and more like our beloved Xaden every day". He knew it was a dig. The two cousins had been compared ever since their interactions were brought to the daylight. "Why don't you go fuck yourself", Bodhi grunted as he walked past his friend. "Gets boring after a while", Garrick chirped in return. Bodhi simply snarled but that of course earned a satisfied chuckle from Garrick.

"Show it to me", the sudden bag of the door practically hitting the wall and the raised voice made you drop the blood-soaked rag. You knew Bodhi was gonna find you eventually. Your dragon was practically counting the minutes for you ever since you had flown back first and dismounted. "Bodhi, it's okay", you tried to keep your voice calm. The wound wasn't all that bad it was the angle and the damaged tissue of the skin that caused it to bleed so much. "Don't you it's okay, me", he grunted, "Show me", his voice was lethal low. He never used that tone with you. It was his section leader's voice. The voice he gave a report in. But it never was showcased around the people he trusted and cared for.

"There's nothing to look at it's...", "I didn't ask, I gave you an order", he cut in, grabbing your upper arm gently so he could look at the damage himself. Bodhi's eyebrows knitted together for a moment, his jaw flexed. "Sit", he muttered motioning towards the bed. "Bodhi", you breathed out. "Baby, I swear to everything holy to me", he exhaled a shaky breath, "you either sit or I am carrying to the healer's wing and will put you on bed rest for a week". You huffed at his threat but you knew that he wasn't bluffing so you followed his orders.

Bodhi was so gentle as he carefully wiped away some of the blood before pressing a clean bandage on your cut, securing it in place. Make sure it's tight for a couple of hours before the bleeding slows down. He would redo it in a couple of hours. Wash it off with a salve he would go ask for. Then another bandage. Then... "Bodhi, I can hear you making plans in your head", you muttered. It was cute watching him fuss at times. It was his way of showing love but you also knew that his head was a wild space and it only took one bad thought to have it all spiraling out of control. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you need something for the pain?", he asked, his concerned eyes searching yours. "Start by giving me a hug and then sit down with me", you said softly, "I promise, I'm fine". You reached out for him, taking his hand into yours, squeezing it.

"I just hate seeing you hurt", Bodhi breathed out, his shoulders drooping. "The feeling is mutual but there are times we can't do anything about it", you reached to run your fingers through his messy curls. That now was completely out of control since he no doubt had been pulling at them. "Do we have a murder scene in the backyard?", you nudged your boyfriend's shoulder, making him snort. "Not yet but we might...", Bodhi exhaled, turning to face you.

"You promise you're okay?", you met his worried gaze but this time instead of answering him you just leaned in and kissed him. Slowly and tenderly. Letting him feel your love. "Good enough proof?", you asked when you two finally broke apart. "Not sure... maybe a couple more kisses", Bodhi thoughtfully nodded his head. You giggled slightly before cupping his face once more.

#bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran imagine #bodhi durran x you #bodhi durran fourth wing #bodhi durran iron flame #bodhi durran fourth wing imagine #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame imagine #iron flame x reader

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 7 months ago

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So of course we've all seen the smut where the ghoul eats you out while on your period...... and my question is this...... do you think that is strictly the ghoul thing? Because of the cannibalism? Or did Cooper prewar already have his red wings? He seems the type to do ANYTHING to make his girl feel better if you catch my drift. Just a thought 😂🤭

It's absolutely not just a cannibalism-related thing; while, ironically, I don't really see Prewar!Cooper Howard as someone who would really enjoy the iron-heavy taste of blood/very rare meat/game-type meat all that much, you are 110% correct in saying that he would do anything to make his partner feel better.

Plus, he's just a munch in general. If he wants to eat pussy, he wants to eat pussy now, not in 4-7 days. It being a little medium-rare doesn't bother him at all.

I didn't intend for this to end up this long. I just sat down to answer this ask real quick and suddenly I had like 2,500 words. I guess you could call it a spiritual prequel to "Bloodletting".

There are a lot of things you don't enjoy about being a person who menstruates. There are also a lot of things you don't enjoy about living in California, namely the summers with their unforgiving heat and brain-frying sun.

Menstruation in the California summer is downright unfair.

After a long day of enduring your body's seemingly intense resentment towards you, you feel disgusting when you finally make it to the home you share with your fiance and immediately drag yourself into a scalding hot shower. Cooper often likes to joke that you're trying to boil yourself in there, playfully chastise that it isn't good for your skin, but the way the heat seeps into your sore muscles is like a siren's call. Once the tap runs cold, you begrudgingly dry yourself, pulling your damp hair up and away from your neck and shoulders before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for something to hopefully ease the ache in your cramping abdominal muscles.

Too tired and sore to worry about scrounging up any food, you throw your still lightly-damp, nude body into your unmade bed and pull the top sheet around you. Normally, the thing would be nicely made before you left the house for the day, but since Cooper left long before you and it fell to you to do the making today, it simply hadn't happened. Cranky, you offer the sleeping dog curled up at the foot a few scratches on his sweet head before closing your eyes and getting in a short, fitful nap.

The familiar jangle of Cooper's keys in the front lock tugs you out of the dreamless void you'd fallen into at some point, and you smile briefly as you hear Roosevelt scuttle off from where he'd been watching over you towards the door. After a moment, you can hear the garbled greetings the older man gives his furry companion, the first step in his homecoming routine, with which you are now intimately familiar. The next step is to shed his boots and jacket, then to drop his keys and the mail on the small table inside the door.

"Honey?" he calls, footsteps moving your way. The two of you spoke on the phone around lunch and he had received a rather generous earful of your complaints.

"I'm here." you respond, turning to face the ceiling groggily as he enters.

"My poor sugar." he laments, the mattress sinking on one side as he sits down beside you, one warm hand patting your back sympathetically. Roosevelt sits briefly beside the bed, watching you curiously, but Cooper dismisses him to his bed in the living room softly, and the dog obeys quietly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick. Can I get you something to take first? Or the hot water bottle, maybe?"

"I already took something, I'm just waiting for it to kick in." you reply, eyes closed as you try to soothe your abdominals with the warmth of your bare hands. "I would take the hot water bottle if you're offering, though."

You cuddle the warm sack of rubber he fetches for you, holding it snug against your stomach under the top sheet as you listen to the sounds of him quickly hopping into and out of the shower. When he emerges, you can see a faint amount of steam seep into the bedroom, as opposed to the thick clouds that typically roll out when you're finished.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning down to kiss at your bare shoulder.

"Eh, sort of." you respond, smiling at the feeling of his lips on your back. The tickling feeling combined with the smell of his body wash encompassing you makes you clench a little, which both fans the low-burning coals in your gut that always smoulder around him and makes another cramp rip through you, sending you whining.

"Aww, poor thing." he coos, petting at your leg and knee. "Did you try anything else?"

"The stuff I took earlier is working okay, and the water bottle is nice." you say, setting the thing aside as you sit up to look at him. There's just a touch more white in the salt-and-pepper of his sideburns now than there was when you originally met him, but you find it very appealing. "I just wish everything wasn't so tight and tense, you know?"

"I hear you." he says, lips moving along your forehead. "I could try making you feel better, if you'd let me."

You chuckle in response, tossing yourself down flat in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

"If you can figure out how, be my guest."

Your words bring a massive grin to his face, and suddenly he's planted himself down between your knees, hands running along your inner thighs and rapidly up towards your mound.

"Cooper, what're you--" you begin, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing and a light massage to your tight thigh muscles.

"Just lie back and let me help you." he says, lying down flat with his shoulders right even with your knees. He peppers kisses from your navel, down the little trail of soft, downy hair that leads to your mons before ghosting his lips back and forth, back and forth across the skin. It raises goosebumps on your skin almost instantly in anticipation.

"Honey." you huff as another cramp balls up in your middle at the sensation. "Don't tease."

"M'sorry, my girl." he apologizes. "I'll make it better."

Only a moment later, you're crying out as he spreads you open gently with his hands and finds your aching little bud with the tip of his tongue. He doesn't like rare meat all that much, from what you've seen, so you're not sure how crazy he is about the taste of blood, but he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue fully along your wet, sensitive slit, using the wriggling muscle to worship every inch of you until your vision is full of stars.

The tension in your abdomen increases as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm, your legs quickly moving up to wrap around his head of their own accord, holding him tight in place with his lips and tongue against your clit. Eventually, you feel his fingers gently swiping around your entrance, and the gasp that leaves you when he slips two of them inside of you is echoed by a low groan from your partner. Your hands are knotted tight in the disheveled sheets, your hips bucking and grinding against Cooper's face like they have a mind of their own.

The rhythm he's playing against your bud increases as you whine and cry out his name again, and by the time he's made you cum for the third time, he's visibly grinding his hips against the mattress, licking and sucking at your skin until you tug on his hair for mercy.

His lips and chin are streaked in scarlet as he pulls himself back up, grinning down at you as he pivots to settle on his hip beside you, his warm, softly calloused hand hand still stroking your thigh lovingly as you ride out your last few scant shivers.

"Feel any better now?" he asks as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You roll your eyes playfully, kicking softly in his direction, only to be undercut by him seizing your foot in his hand and peppering it with kisses, making you squeal with laughter.

"Alright, I feel a lot better." you admit when you finally calm down. You sit up a ways, nuzzling beneath his chin, planting wet kisses there and feeling him shiver in response. "But I still think you should have to split these stupid things with me. Or find a way to stop them, maybe. Write some scientists a check or something."

"Oh, I can stop them, sweetheart." he says bawdily, tucking his chin to tease your throat with his tongue as your hand moves to rest on his cheek. "For about a year, a least."

The hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his head, threading into the thick, dark hair there and gently pressing there to usher him down towards you until your lips meet once more. He knows this is a hot button for both of you, and you want to chastise him for being such a tease. However, your mind is too foggy.

As he leans further towards you, tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, your hand is finally able to find what it's been seeking. His erection is already throbbing in your grip as you stroke him through his boxers, a groan seeping through his nostrils as he pulls back from your kiss. Despite this, you hook your leg around his hip the best you can, attempting to tug him back down between your legs.

"Coop." you whisper, pushing your hips at his.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." he says, eyes clenched as tight as his sudden grip on the bed sheets curled around his left hand. You know he wants to fuck you, that he needs to cum after everything he's given you; the evidence is in your hand. However, you also know he'll deny himself for your sake.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper, lips tracing along his throat as your hand continues to work him, concentrating your movements towards the tip and earning a genuine whimper from him. The throaty, vulnerable sound from him makes your entire gut clench, and your lips latch onto his stubbly throat, your tongue lathing his freshly bathed skin.

"I took care of you because I wanted to help you feel better. I don't need anything in return." he replies, his voice low and quiet as he strains to keep it even.

"I want you to feel better, too."

Your hand is fully stroking him again, and by the time you notice the growing wet spot near your hand, he's leaning down and forcing his tongue back into your mouth, sighing contently as he pulls himself back between your legs. One hand softly kneads your left breast, his weight balanced on his elbow and knee as he works his shorts down, kicking them off the foot of the bed absentmindedly.

A subconscious sigh leaves you as you drink in the sight of him, his leaking cock laying, flushed red and painfully hard, against his toned stomach. Trying your best to ignore the way he smirks at you, easy as you wrap your legs around his hips, his hand moving between you to guide himself teasingly along your entrance. You sigh his name when the head of him finally catches and sinks fluidly into your warmth.

Your tense pelvic muscles ache in protest for a passing moment as they adjust to him, to his weight pressing into you, but as you breathe deep, the stretch eases away some of the strain, leaving you sighing with relief as he begins to gently fuck you.

He's soft and slow to begin with, watching your face closely as you adjust to him, burying his face in your neck and latching onto it with his lips as you finally take him to the hilt.

"Oh, Cooper." you sigh, gripping hard at his shoulders as you grind your clit against his pubic bone, the soft texture of his pubic hair adding to the mountain of sensations he's making you experience. "I needed this so bad."

Your admission seems to only fuel him, groaning as his fingers move to strum at your clit again, pressing practiced circles around the swollen little nub just like you'd shown him to do. The rough feeling of the small callous he has on his trigger finger drives you absolutely mad with pleasure, making you tighten around him as you cry out.

"Fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day." he confesses in a low, hushed tone as his hips continue to slap against yours, still mindful of where his weight is placed over you, but growing steadily more forceful in his movements. Soon, he has you built up into a sweaty mess, crying out for more of his touch, more of him in general as he holds your hips tight.

"I'm gonna cum, Coop." you pant, face red hot and damp as the rest of you as he continues to work back and forth between your thighs. The sudden feeling of his white teeth, sharp and strong, digging into the crook of your neck makes you whimper, and the sound seems to teleport him right to the exact same spot you're in.

"Shit, me too." he hisses, lips and tongue still attacking your neck as his hips quickly lose their rhythm, driving hard into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls back and shoots his load all over your soft stomach, growling like a wild animal as jet after jet of thick, sticky cum coats your flushed skin.

Once you've both come down from your high, you wiping pitifully at your sweaty face as he extracts himself from you as gently as possible, hand threading through his damp hair, you both chuckle, lying on your sides facing one another at the foot of the bed, catching your breaths. He grabs for your hand like he always does after you make love, holding it snug in the palm of his own as you bask in the afterglow.

The only difference now is that there's an engagement ring on your hand for him to play with. Seeing it on you seems to make him swell with pride, and that makes you feel warm inside.

"How does a nice, hot bath and some takeout sound?" he asks eventually, running his lips along your forehead as his hands massage at your lower back.

"Sounds amazing." you smirk, pulling back a few inches to look at him mischievously. "But I already had a super long, hot shower when I got home. Is double dipping allowed?"

Smirking at your coy playfulness, he pulls you up into his lap and snug against his chest, both of you wincing slightly at the slick, wet feeling of the mess all over both of your stomachs. The man never fails to produce quite a bit.

"Normally, I'd say no." he fires back matter-of-factually. "But considering the circumstances, I'll allow it this one time."

"You did make quite the mess." you chastise, but your words are quickly interrupted by him quickly snatching you up, hefting you into the air as he takes a moment to balance you both before making his way into the en suite bathroom.

"Well, one could argue that the mess is at least partially your fault, but I'm willing to take responsibility for my part and help tidy you up." he chuckles as he carries you towards the tub. "I'm very thorough in my cleaning."

"Promise?" you chuckle suggestively.

"Promise." he winks.

#feeling this big time right now #thank you anon #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard headcanons #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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krispycreamcake · 5 months ago

Text

Reiji's perfect gift

From author: I'm gonna try just a tiny different writing style today sooo enjoy

Edit: I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF OH MY GODDDDDDD I POSTED THIS BY ACCIDENT AND TRIED TO CNP IT BEFORE I DELETED IT BUT IT ONLY GOT LIKE ONE SENTENCE. I AM LEAVING THE EARTH.

"Mmmm... That's- hnng- good..." I grunted out in relief as I felt their gentle fingers easily glide across my aching muscle, pulling and tugging until I could no longer hold in my voice. Just the feeling of them on my skin made me instantly fall into a state of relaxation and pleasure.

Once they were done, I rose up from the bed and rolled my shoulders. "Thank you, I do appreciate it." The words left my mouth as if butter had been smeared all over my lips. I turned around to face them, looking into their eyes. I wish I could've stayed longer but I had important duties that couldn't be dismissed.

Truth be told, I've been certainly stressed out these past few days with the events father had planned for us. Convincing my no good brothers was hard enough as it is to attend, but making sure they don't make a fool of the Sakamaki name would be the harder issue at play.

"Reiji? You're kinda zoning out, you ok?" I heard their voice and immediately snapped my attention back to them. I cupped their face with a gloved hand and grazed their cheek with my thumb. "It's nothing you should be worrying about. I'm just focusing on making sure everything turns out the way father expects it to." They quirk an eyebrow at me before giggling.

"What's so funny?" I ask. "Well if things turn out the way he expects it to, then wouldn't that be a disaster?" I grin as the joke registers to me. As much as I do appreciate the humour, it was just another reminder that without me, this family would completely fall apart.

"I suppose you're right. Truly I couldn't imagine them being on any kind of behaviour, so it'll be hard to make sure they're even on their best one." They look at me a bit despondent as if they know what has to happen now. "Goodnight. I do hope you have a good rest, if you need me, you know where to find me."

I watch as their hands grab onto mines, not saying a word. It would be so easy to ignore what must be done and just stay here with them, but I'm afraid that that's just not in my character. "Don't look so troubled, you'll feel my fangs soon enough."

"I watch as their expression changes from one of surprise to embarrassment. What a predictable human. "I assume that's why you're so against letting me go no?" As their unbelievable fibs reach my ears, I can't help but think about how I'm only wasting more time. I say my farewells and immediately head to the game room to check on my brothers.

"Really Ayato, you never fail to disappoint me." I watch as he freezes in his spot, pool table clutched in hand. "Shit.... Reiji." I sigh before crossing my arms. "I don't expect anything from you other than to slack off, but even then you prove to me time and time again that you cannot be trusted with anything. You can't even set an example for your younger brothers! You agreed to come to the gathering and claimed that you had read the event's guidelines, yet here you are lazing off and playing games! You understand the severity of your situation don't you? Of all of us? We are to present the family's greatest accomplishments over the years and yet we have nothing to show for it."

I fix my glasses as my voice grows Stern and tense. "Tch- why don't ya take that damn stick outta your ass and have fun for once? Isn't today supposed to be your special day?" If I didn't have more important things to attend to, I'd slap that imprudent little boy across his face. Where does he honestly get the audacity to speak to me of all people like that?

"You know that as vampires, our birthdays are rather pointless and tiresome to celebrate. I am not some weak mortal that needs to be pitied for having gained another year to my age. Kanato, your advanced math class is having a meet-up tomorrow, you will be attending. Laito, I've arranged for you to be giving a tour in the demon world where you'll be teaching others about our history and culture, all your notes and resources are on your desk. Ayato, you have been designated to attend tomorrow's ball along with Subaru. You all have your work cut out for you so I don't expect anyone to be slacking off."

They luckily knew I wasn't asking but still, neither seemed pleased to be bossed around. "I think I'd rather die than have an old guy like you tell me what to do you know." Laito spoke with firm determination, I could see it in his face and sense it in his voice, no matter how smooth of a tone he may put on.

"These are not my wishes, I am simply carrying out our duties and making sure you low-lives don't drag the Sakamaki name through mud." I quickly spat back at him. Why must they oppose every single thing I say? I'm doing this for them! I sigh before taking my leave.... Until I heard Kanato murmur something under his breath.

I snapped my head towards him. "Speak up, it's rude to mumble, you're no longer a child anymore Kanato." I watched as Kanato looked at the floor, fiddling with that teddy bear of his before finally speaking up with such dead eyes.

"Teddy and I think that you should just leave if everything's such a bother to you.... You don't care about us anyway, but I can't say that we all don't feel the same! Uuu..... You want to abandon us, leave us here to rot!" I was almost taken aback before Kanato started to sniffle and cry like a child that lost its mother.

I once again adjusted my glasses before giving them all a stern look. I head back to my room to review the letters we received after a certain good-for-nothing let them stack up without informing anyone that they were delivered in the first place.

Just as I climbed the stairs, I immediately noticed that they were there. Watching perhaps? Sometimes I just don't know what's going on with that person after it seems like I have everything figured out. "It's highly unbecoming to ease drop on other's conversations."

I chuckle as I watch them jump in surprise. I grabbed their hand before giving their wrist a slap with my index and middle fingers. They wince at the jolt of pain before yanking their arm away. But something wasn't right.... Their usual playful stature in moments like these, was replaced with what I could only concur as annoyance and anger.

"Is something the matt-" My ears were immediately assaulted by a loud berating. "How could you not tell me it was your birthday??? Are you insane?? We spent the entire day doing nothing! I could've made you a cake or something or- or I don't know! Get you a present at least! You told me 'not to worry about it' when I asked because it didn't matter!"

My face drops and I feel exasperation creep up on me. "Is that what this is all about? I believe you heard my explanation when I was speaking to Ayato, I won't repeat myself because you refuse to listen to anything that isn't what you want to hear. I've explained before that I'm busy, so if you don't mind, I'll be taking my leave."

I walk past them before things could escalate more. I tried to remain as composed as I could but everyone seemed to be additionally unintelligent today. Truth be told, I couldn't care less! My birthday? Ha..... What a joke, it should be forgotten and buried with that woman.

I turn the knob on my door and see my room in the state of a pigsty. I hurriedly closed the door as it let out a small slam. "Hm, it seems I've let this place get the best of me. I don't have time for tidying right now..... I need to-" I don't know what overtook me, or perhaps I did, but I slid down the wall and thre my head back, tears streaming down my face. What a fool I've been, running around catering to others and I shut them out when they try to do the same.

"Yes?" I look down to see them... But not just them. The triplets are outside as well and Subaru even. A warm yellow glow was radiating off of their face. Candles that were stuck inside a strawberry shortcake.... My eyes grew wide as I realized. I didn't say a word as I opened the door for all of them to come in. Ayato was the second to bolt inside holding a bottle of wine.

It's that damn person's fault! Ever since they got here, they've made my life hell! Their outrageous tendencies to check in on me, to care for me, to hold me! How could they..... Make me see my own flaws, make me feel this way? I hear a knock on the door and immediately stand up, drying my eyes and taking a second to breathe before opening it.

"Happy birthday dear Reiji~ happy birthday to you!" I unintentionally gave a small smile as I listen to all their uneven voices try to sing in harmony, it was absolutely awful. But I can't say I didn't enjoy it nonetheless. "Thank you all.... And I'm assuming this was your idea?" I asked them.

They tried to be humble but I knew they really enjoyed the praise they got from me. I opened the bottle of wine and poured everyone a glass, using the ones I keep locked away in my room. They all seemed surprised to see me bringing them out.

I can't remember how many drinks we'd all had, but when they kissed me.... I can't explain it. It was more sweet than any blood that I've ever tasted, more delicate than the finest of pastries. In fact, if it wasn't for that kiss, I don't think I'd recall that night at all.

I feel a presence behind me and before I could see who it was, they left. The only thing to indicate that there was someone there in the first place, was a small store bought card with the words 'happy birthday' written on it in an ugly font with bright colours. "Hmph, you really are good for nothing."

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andraxicated · 2 years ago

Note

Artem wing x detective! Reader quickies at the crime scene. Very unprofessional but they just can’t help themselves 😩🥴

tw: fucking at a crime scene, creampie, unprotected sex, risky Artem

a/n: I have to admit I don't play tot and genshin anymore hshshshs. because I hit the endgame in both games and everything I do is so repetitive like leveling characs, daily tasks, the content in general, etc.

I apologize for this super late writing anon :(( You get to bonk me with a baguette for this.

Artem considers himself to be on the right path in terms of his morals. But when you suddenly came over into his life, he had been recently questioning himself if he was still doing the right thing.

Because it is definitely not ethical to be having a tent in his pants as you talk away about the clues found by the forensic team or the maid's testimonies about the robbery that happened.

His blue eyes scan the entirety of the area. The house is a mess with shattered windows, broken vases, shelves missing something expensive—and the inviting expanse of your skin by the collar—

Artem momentarily coughed, a blush appearing on his cheeks. You raised an eyebrow, asking if he's alright but he nods anyway as he motions for you to continue.

"As I was saying, some of the maids' testimonies do not match so we need to interrogate them further..." Your voice drifts off in his consciousness. Artem remembers the steps you took in front of him and how your pants had shown the outline of your underwear. And he also bashfully recalls how both of you spent the night together before, your moans of his name like a mantra in his head.

"Artem! Artem~ Hnghh, I love you." You moaned, leaving bite marks all over his neck as he fills you up below.

He feels like a fucking pervert yet it turns him on even further.

"Artem Wing! What is happening to you?!" Your voice pierces through his daydreams, the tone a stark contrast to your lovely moans.

Artem's cheeks are tinted pink, eyes clouded with memories, and both of his hands clasped together right above his crotch as if he's hiding something.

"What are you doing?"

He could only pull his coat closer to his body to hide the bulge that's been begging to be freed.

With an awkward cough, he replies, "I find myself uncomfortable in this environment. It's too dusty, let's go now-"

"You mean to say you're horny?" "(y/n!)" Artem suddenly clasps a hand over your mouth, his face burning red from your vulgar words. Naturally, the coat flails off what he's been trying to hide and there you see the obvious tent right in his slacks.

The feeling of his dick is still fresh inside your body. Your then pussy jumps and aches for her counterpart as you remove his hand and tell him what he wants to hear.

"Fuck me right here"

"No" He looks at you like you've grown a head or two. Shaking his head furiously as he dismisses the idea of fucking you at a crime scene.

"I've sent everyone away besides, isn't it more thrilling doing it here? Think of it as a one-time thing, it's too risky to do it any other time so...we'll take this chance right now." You whine, pulling on his hand to try to convince him as Artem contemplates whether to listen to his rationale or horny.

"Please?" You give the best puppy eyes you could make, hoping it'll remind him of the look you give him when begging to put it inside your mouth.

And it did.

Artem moans, trying his best to lower down the volume but the feeling of being swallowed whole by your pussy has him letting out the most gorgeous sounds you ever heard. "Nghhh, (y/n) fuck. I-I thought you'd just suck me off." He groans against your neck, pushing your back flat against the wall with each thrust.

He didn't dare to look down or else he'll combust too quickly. Well, he really had to finish early since it was a quickie but Artem just couldn't get enough of the feel of your pussy sucking him in. You're wet and it's so easy for him to glide inside your walls to which you let out little moans that get swallowed up by his kisses.

"Isn't this better?-ahh. Y-you feel so good, Mr. Wing." You tease him by moaning his title which spurs him on to pump faster, wiping the grin off your face as he repeatedly hits your special spot.

"W-wait Artem! I'm gonna-" You try to push him off in a panic, fearing that your mixtures will fall to the floor with no cloth to wipe in sight. "Gonna cum!" You whine, mouth opening in ecstasy as you spasm and release around his cock.

You look back at Artem and see he's flushed as hell, lip bit and bangs falling around his face. He's focused on the view of his cock entering your hole, looking like a man on a mission as he fucks you into the wall.

"Love, I'm gonna release inside you, I'm sorry." He apologizes even though he secretly loves the feeling of cumming inside your pussy.

But before you could reply, a knock resounds on the front door shooting both of your eyebrows up in shock. "Mr. Wing? Ms. (y/n)? Are you guys still there?" You look at Artem in a panic but he seems to not mind anymore, too pussy drunk to care about professionalism.

You realize they'll get suspicious if you don't reply so you try your best to stabilize your voice in an attempt to speak.

"Yes!" You breathe out as if you'd run a marathon. "We're still discussing-!" Artem thrusts particularly hard, making your mouth 'o' shaped as your voice stops.

"Fuck fuck fuck I'm cumming. You better take all of this, don't let a single drop or we'll get caught."

You do hope the cutoff of your voice didn't sound too suspicious as Artem fucks his cock back into you as quickly as he can before moaning without a care about the team right outside. You had to cover his mouth as you squint, feeling the onslaught of liquid inside you.

The softening length lightly thrusts again to push some of the cum back inside. You're overstimulated and embarrassed, post-nut clarity hitting you like a truck yet it didn't seem to settle into Artem yet.

"So so good..." He whispers, seemingly wanting to get a round two but you stop him with a reminder of where you are.

"Artem put me down. They're looking for us."

"Who?"

Your eyes widen, finding his lust-filled haze amusing and scary. "My team? We're still at a crime scene."

Artem then stills, realizing that he's still inside of you and that what he had done is very very unprofessional.

But, fuck professionalism if it meant seeing you walk funny because his cum is resting inside you.

#artem x reader #artem x reader smut #artem smut #tot x reader #tears of themis scenarios #tot x reader smut #tot smut #tears of themis smut #tears of themis imagines #artem wing #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis x you #tears of themis

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eccentricallygothic · 2 years ago

Text

|| Back To Him ||

Description: He was flawed, but so was she.

Pairing: Dark!Enhanced Witch Hunter!Steve Rogers | Dark Witch!Female Reader.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Steve Rogers. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Dub-con just to be safe, stockholm syndrome, possessive!Steve (if you squint idk it's 3am), mentions of blood and death (not reader), degradation, angst, broken!reader, no mentions of body type or ethnicity but Steve is bigger, age gap (Steve is older), dumbification, slapping, panty sniffing, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, back scratching, squirting.

Note: More unedited than my life. Basically monster reader getting fucked by captor Steve. I needed to get this out in one go or I would never have finished it. So here's to doing this instead of studying for my upcoming exam! English isn't my first language. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

Steve felt a slight burn in his lungs as he willed his legs to push harder, feet thundering against the withered leaves littering his path to his destination; her. He hated how slow everything turned each time this happened. His body screamed for him to stop, heart fighting against it's cage, cold droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. But he didn't stop. He refused to stop. Instead, the witch hunger blinked his eyes, ignoring his physical turmoil that was the consequence of his unprepared marathon, focusing on his path, the only chant in his mind being the place a fellow witch hunter had informed him of being the victim to her unbiased wrath.

Hold on, Doll. Just hold on. Despite being enhanced by the potions of the very creatures he hunted and torched, his body struggled to battle against his will to make him stop. But Steve didn't.

He couldn't.

. . .

"Please, please, please, Miss! I just had a child!" The man in front of her begged, holding his hands in a prayer-like way as he shook on his knees in terror, bowing his head as tears rained down his face. "Please, please…"

She smiled, her silver irises contrasting against her otherwise coal hued eyes. The man clenched his jaw to find some control for his shaking when her floating body lowered itself to come closer to him. Not so much that her feet touched the ground, no. Just enough to come in close proximity with his kneeling form.

A chill ran down his spine when she bent forward and took a long and rough sniff. "Hmmm~" her voice was dark, deep and gravelly. "You need not worry. I will honour you by eating her heart out and quenching my thirst with her sweet blood~" Y/n cackled as the man broke out into sobs, shaking his head profusely as he incoherently begged out pleads but to no avail.

The chaos of flame, smoke, blood and bone around them was a personal fun fair to the overpowered witch ironically victim to her own strengths as she rose back up in the air, twirling in it as people shrieked and cried, running around them.

"Hm~" Y/n hummed after a while of enjoying the sounds, her blissful expression morphing into one of boredom as she curled her lips outwards. "Boooooring~" a quick dismissive motion of her hands was followed by everyone around her flying around her into thin slices of blood and flesh with so much force that they sprayed all over her, accompanying their kind on her skin.

The young witch walked on the air, hands wrapped behind her back as she hummed like a little girl playing with her friends, searching for survivors as she grinned in delight, her canine/like teeth gleaming like pearls in the sun.

"There you are!" Y/n clapped her hands in delight when she found a group of people hiding in a ditch. "I could smell your fear from miiiiiiles away~!" She chirped like it was nothing but a harmless game of hide and seek among friends. "Now," tilting her head to the side, she smiled as one of her hands raised in the air. "The fun part-" her words came to an abrupt stop as she felt something grip one of her feet, pulling her downwards.

"Hm?" The witch snapped her head in the direction of the mysterious force, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when she saw a blonde man almost twice her size calmly pulling her towards him on the ground, hand on her calf now. I know him. "But from where?" She wondered aloud, both the inherited and self acquired powers bubbling inside her like molten lava.

"Come on now, doll." His voice was as deep as hers, no trace of the fear she loved so much present in his bright blue eyes. So human. "Come back to me" Y/n suddenly forgot her basic instinct to slash first ponder later. "That's it, that's a good doll." Steve's coaxing was ironic to say the least. For she looked nothing like the name he called her.

Must not hurt him.

The witch didn't know why, but the same thing played over and over in her foggy head like a mantra. Must not do anything to him. It wasn't like it would be fun anyways.

Because he was not begging. He was not scared. Not even close.

Steve clicked his tongue once he had finally eased her on the ground in front of him slowly and carefully. "Look at yourself, bunny. You are not allowed to go out to play alone, remember?" He knew she didn't. Not yet. Not in this state. But this was the way. The trick. It was a sequence he had perfected over the years since he first caught her during one of her rampages.

Y/n had looked so beautiful in her rotten glory. So radiant under the silver moon of that night, her hair swaying along the cool winter breeze, skin decorated by the raining snow as she slow danced by herself in the air amidst the havoc that she had caused by flooding the village with blood that night. Oh, how beautifully the red on her skin had contrasted the snowflakes clinging to her. The young witch was basking in the chaos and smiling to herself as she chewed on a piece of flesh, humming that sweet melody he had loved from that night on. One that came with a price everytime. One that he had to suppress in order to protect the universe around them. Each time he would have to choke his own hummingbird dead to silence to rescue the universe from the brute wrath it accompanied.

But it rose from the ashes like a phoenix. Every single time.

"Pretty eyes" was Y/n's only resolve after she tried to find strength within herself to do something but felt herself paralyzed under his soft gaze that she knew was everything but. A giggle escaped her as her index finger reached out for his eyebrow, another one accompanying the first one when he lightly smiled in response to the girl tracing his features out with the claws she had for hands. "Nice man?" She wondered aloud, voice suddenly childish. Vulnerable.

Exactly how he had moulded her for himself all those years dating back to the night he had caught her along his hunting party.

"Now I have to kill all these people because of you, doll." Small cries arose from the group that had been watching the scene unfolding in front of them in horror.

No one could ever find out that the great Steve Rogers could, indeed, not completely control the occasional power outbursts of the witch he had for a house pet. Where her lack of experience and training with the powers she had been blessed with by birth as well as the ones she had developed by doing small spells and tricks would overcome her conscious, blinding her humanity as the smell of fear, melodies of pained screams and thundering of strained hearts replace every other thought.

And that was why she needed her owner, the witch hunter, both her captor and savior, Steve, to bring her back to him every time it happened. To remind her of all that mattered. All that was worth killing the dark sorceress every time she mustered enough energy to attempt a take over.

It had been easier said than done. But he had centuries to perfect her for himself. What was lifetimes to many around them were mere moments to the two. The world was theirs if they wanted it. Y/n as the brainless executionist while Steve held her leash. But they only took what they wanted, leaving the world to its own devices for the sake of amusement as the hunter made it a point to keep their true identities unknown except to those in his order.

"I can do that for you~" Y/n giggled as she waved her hand in the air and silenced the people trapped in the ditch. She could not exactly recognize him. But she knew not to hurt him. Her power drunk mind did not even go there. Instead she poked at him in curiousity, narrowing her eyes at him before licking her lips as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. Something impossible for her in this state.

Years of conditioning can do that even to the most powerful of witches at their most supreme. Especially young and impressionable ones.

"Dumb bunny" Steve clicked his tongue again as he suddenly pushed at the girl's chest, earning a gasp even in her horrifyingly elevated state. She fell on her ass against the crunchy leaves with a thud. Must not use powers against him. She wanted to scream and ask why. But instead, Y/n maintained her position on the ground, letting him kick her legs apart as he slowly lowered himself on his knees between them.

"You fuck me?" The girl barely form coherent sentences against him, monstrous eyes blinking up at him like those of an innocent doe, dumbly tilting her head to the side as her upper body rested against her elbows.

"Dumb bunnies like yourself need to be fucked back into the pathetic little places, remember?" Steve was calm as he spoke to her in a mentor-like voice, undoing his pants before curling the bottom side of her panties that she wore under her blood stained sundress between his fingers before ripping them off.

"I am dumb bunny?" Y/n's gravel-like voice was in stark contrast to her tone.

"One that gets wet every time she slaughters a village, apparently" Steve sniffed the torn fabrics in his hand before he put them aside, gripping the witch's thighs before pulling her closer. She blushed under the blood covering her face, biting her lip as she stared at him through 'shy' eyes. "You're lucky you have me, you know?" Aligning himself against her trained entrance, the man controlled the waver that threatened to take over her voice.

The trick was to appear stronger than her. Unaffected and better. As if she was nothing if not for his mercy.

Exactly like he had taught her.

To the point where his 'teachings' eventually started to bleed into her hazed mind during these occurrences.

The young witch hadn't always been this compliant.

"Because no one else would ever love an abomination like you" were the words that acommaonied his first thrust into her tight but welcoming walls of flesh. "Tsk, you're so pathetic. Going around hurting people like a mad hound." His words were harsh and condescending as he worked his hips, pushing her dress up to reveal her breasts that had bruises of his passion littering them. "You disgust me as you would anyone" Steve's words were brutal. They always had been.

But they were exactly what Y/n needed.

What had sheltered her away from a pyre for this long.

The thick intrusion in the witch's pussy was too much for her to form any words. Not even incoherent ones. Her elbows had given out and she was writhing against the ground now, moaning in pleasure as her claws gripped fistfuls of the dead leaves underneath her, back arched. Steve felt an icy shudder run down the back of his thighs. She was gorgeous in her nudity, glowing under the sun despite being covered in particles of flesh and blood.

"Yet I am so kind. Showing you the benevolence you do not deserve by still giving you shelter, asylum and food" and poison your senses with the craftings of my personal witch. "And what do you do, huh- look at me!" The hunter's voice raised a few octaves as he gripped her jaw to position her face to look at his, slapping her cheek to get her to open her eyes that she had shut in pleasure. "You try to run away from me like an ungrateful bitch?!" Steve pinched her nipples roughly before swatting one of her breasts with the back of his hand, pairing it with a proper slap when his hand boomeranged back.

"More, more, more~" she hissed out in an animalistic way, the silver in her eyes shining brighter as the black around them seemed to get even darker. "More, more, more- so good~!"

The man chuckled, shaking his head at the slut he had made out of her. If the girl whom he had trapped all those years ago were to see this right now, she would not believe it. It was how stubborn and egoistic she had been that made the sight before him even better, the knowledge that he had managed to make a puppet out of what had been predicted as the end of the world made him go faster, the skin atop his spine covered in droplets of cold sweat.

"Say please" Steve growled, taking his cock almost all the way out before slamming it back in, toying with one of her tits as the other held her head in place by her hair. She seemed to be drunk on the pleasure, dark and silver eyes dazed as her red mouth let out lazy and broken words that drowned in her own moans. "Tell me how much you want it and I might consider" a small whine left her when he slowed his hips down for emphasis, enjoying the warmth of her pussy as he waited for her to comply.

"Give me" he wasn't surprised. The man knew he had not broken her down completely yet.

"Not when you demand like that, doll." A protestant sniff left her nose as she narrowed her eyes down at him.

"Give. Now!" The hunter slowed his hips down even even more.

"Not with that attitude, I won't." Steve went to pull away. "Tsk, some things are just shameless. Demanding and bratty like they have any rights" he could barely finish his sentence before she jumped up on him, straddling his thighs as a loud moan escaped her due to his cock that was barely in at this point suddenly pushing all the way back inside her as the tip collided with her sweet spot.

Other than the rough and quiet exhales of breath that were forcing their way past his lips, Steve was mostly unbothered as he twirled and pinched one of Y/n's nipples, kneading one of her ass cheeks by his other hand while she braced herself by his strong shoulders, chasing her orgasm as loud noises of skin slapping against skin filled the air.

"You're truly pathetic, you know?" His blue eyes bore into her monstrous ones as he maintained his icy demeanor. "Fucking yourself shamelessly upon a man who could care less about even touching a shadow birthed heretic like you" Y/n did not reply. She wouldn't have been able to even if she wanted to. Instead, she just moaned through her open mouth as she fucked him like an animal, tits bouncing up and down as she felt a tangle of warm knots forming in her abdomen.

"That's right, keep at it" Steve grunted now, feeling himself getting close due to how inhumanly fast the witch was sliding back and forth on his cock, her wetness allowing pleasant access to his ballsack inside her wet cavern. "Such a cock starved imp. Doesn't even care what her dead coven will think if they saw her riding the cock of the man that killed them" nothing but desperate, pained and frustrated grunts left her.

But she just couldn't cum.

It wouldn't come.

"Have had enough of your high cloud yet?" Steve raised an eyebrow, knowing she couldn't cum unless he let her.

Because if she did, his personal witch would be the next one on a pyre. One whom he had given secret asylum in exchange for personal hexes and crafts.

Y/n's eyebrows furrowed as she seemed to contemplate for a few moments, crying out when she failed to bring herself to an orgasm. "Please…" Was the only thing she could let out. "Please…" The stiffness of her demeanor dissipated a little, so did the unnatural colours in her eyes. "Sir…" Steve couldn't help but smirk. His favourite method of grounding her always worked.

"Good doll~" she was back on ground before the next breath, her captor on top of her as he trapped her smaller hands above her head, the other hand reaching for her vagina as the hunter cupped the vertical curve between the witch's legs, rubbing circles on her clit by his thumb. "See? Being a good bunny for your Master isn't so bad."

Y/n cried out loud enough for the trees to tremble with the vibrations of her banshee-like shriek, body violently spasming as it tried to break free against his hold on her arms, back arching as she squirted her orgasm out.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you! Oh, thank you!" The witch cried out, voice not as deep anymore as it came back to her usual one, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure while her teeth nibbled at her lips. Her eyes were almost back to normal and so were her 'claws'.

"There she is" Steve easily overpowered her now that the worst was over, whatever was still possible being restricted by his firm hold on her wrists which denied her hands any moment. The hunter knew she wouldn't and couldn't hurt him. But a last accidental surge of power might just level the village which would bring people asking questions. "There is my good bunny~" he started to empty his load into her, thrusts slowing down but not halting as she squirmed from the overstimulation, pouting up at him.

"W- Was I a bad girl again, sir?" Y/n's eyes were finally back to the ones Steve adored. Even if in his own tainted way. She wasn't exactly an angel either. So they made it work. Or rarher, he did. "Hmmm-!" She tried to move her hips away in discomfort as she felt him fuck his seed deeper and deeper up her walls, well aware no consequence would follow.

Unless he wanted it to.

Letting go of her hands as the hunter knew the witch would keep them in place herself now, he pushed strands of hair clinging to her sweaty face away from it, stroking them as he lazily moved inside her now. Her eyes were sad.

Oh, he had broken her so good.

All for him.

"What d- did I d- do?" He wanted to scoff. The wretch knew exactly what she'd done. She wasn't fooling anyone with her innocent voice and doe eyes after deliberately not taking the potion that delayed these episodes.

"Nothing a few days in the dungeon won't fix" Steve secured his promise with a chaste kiss against her lips, cupping one of her cheeks before stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "Nothing I can't fix."

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve smut #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #steve rogers x smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x y/n

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sofa-king-lame · 2 months ago

Note

Buck and Eddie roadtrip in Texas 👀

Ok so I actually started writing this one MONTHS ago and then abandoned it, but now (after 8x08) I feel like I could pick it back up again with better added context.

Basically they go on a road trip (like maybe they fly to Austin for an event or something and decide to hire a car and drive back through El Paso to get Chris or something). Buck isn't sleeping bc insomnia is a bitch and Eddie researches the shit out of different techniques he can use to help Buck.

Here's a snippet:

“Have you tried jacking off right before you go to sleep?” Eddie asks as Buck leaves the bathroom and Buck walks right into the arm chair.

“The fuck, Eddie,” he groans, bending over to rub his poor dead pinky toe.

“Sorry, just checking. It’s an obvious one though, so...” Eddie trails off and looks at Buck pointedly. Buck wants to die.

“Yes, Eddie, I’ve tried that. Didn’t help. Next tip, please.”

“Counting sheep,” Eddie suggests. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed in just sweatpants and Buck still wants to die.

“Oh yeah that’s super fun until my brain can’t stop counting and suddenly it’s 4am and I’ve visualised seven fucking thousand sheep jump over a rickety wooden fence,” Buck snorts. He slumps into the armchair and rubs his eyes aggressively, listening to Eddie’s breathing. The room is (creepily) silent and Buck’s skin is prickling.

“Visualise moving all the furniture in your room,” Eddie reads off his phone.

“Great until hyper-fixation kicks in and I get up and actually start moving furniture. Remember three weeks ago when you came over for breakfast and I was passed out on my bed against the opposite wall?” Buck reminds Eddie pointedly. “I need new mental games.”

“Hmm. Well according to this person on Reddit you shouldn’t think of them as mental games because it’s not meant to be fun,” Eddie snorts.

“Yeah fuck that person. Going to sleep should be fun and if it helps me to think of mental exercises as games then that’s what I’ll do, random Reddit asshole,” Buck huffs. He’s way more annoyed than he should be about this but Eddie doesn’t say anything, just hums in agreement. Buck appreciates Eddie rolling with his spiralling and not telling him to ‘just sit the fuck down and relax’ like Tommy used to. Buck wants to die a little less now, but not by much.

“Have you tried counting backwards?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the left a little. The gel he’d put in his hair in the morning has lost its hold and his hair flops to the side, falling over his forehead.

“Ah see that one I’ve actually had a little success with.” Buck stands up from the armchair – his pinky toe has miraculously not fallen off and he can, in fact, walk. He sits down opposite Eddie, close enough that their knees are almost touching (because it’s only a double bed, not because Buck just wants an excuse to be close to Eddie, nope).

“But not so much recently?”

“I count backwards by threes starting at nine hundred and ninety-nine,” Buck starts, and absolutely does not shift slightly so that his and Eddie’s knees are actually touching.

“Oddly specific, do explain,” Eddie muses. He still looks sleepy, despite his four-hour nap in the car. Buck wants to hold his stupid hand.

“Doing it that way hits every triple digit – eight eighty-eight, seven seventy-seven, blah blah blah,” Buck trails off, waving his hand dismissively. “Which is satisfying but is also a pattern that my brain latches on to and after a few nights it’s not engaging enough to keep my attention and I start tuning out the counting and get distracted by other things.”

“That - I mean I can’t relate, I don’t know what that’s like but it sounds really fucking frustrating. I’m sorry,” Eddie murmurs warmly, placing a calloused hand on Buck’s knee and yep, Buck is going to die tonight.

I've written 5.3k words of this one lol. I've just got so many WIPs/fics I want to start!

#claire answers #911 #911 fic #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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sir-adamus · 2 months ago

Note

Not to be the jerk here, but as someone who did begin watching the show and stopped because I didn't like it... yeah. I do think most criticism I've heard of it is bull tho.

and it's fair enough to try something and decide it's not for you - no show is perfect and no show is going to appeal to everyone

it's the people who tried something, didn't like it, and came to the conclusion that because they didn't like it, therefore it must be bad, and all their 'criticisms' are working backwards from that conclusion (and then people with no skin in the game but also a complete inability to form their own opinions consume that conclusion and don't question it, spread it around, and it just becomes an unending ouroboros of horseshit)

it's why the goalposts keep moving and the idea that the show has a healthy sized fanbase that actually enjoys it is dismissed - you have people who are so entrenched in their insular little circlejerks that they can't conceive that their opinion isn't that of the majority (or that their opinions aren't the fundamental truths of the universe) and because they haven't come to a conclusion rationally but are basically stewing on their hurt feelings of not being catered to in every conceivable aspect (and some of them have gone on to make this the fundamental core of their personalities because they're fucking weirdos)

#rwb/y

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago

Note

(Hey! I hope this ask isn't too nsfwish, if it is, feel free not to answer!)

Anyway, I wanted to request something for some Twisted Wonderland characters (I just got into the game a while ago and I'm almost finished with the main story for Scarabia! It's very addicting, lol)! Oh, and I don't know if you have a character limit, but I'll just request Ace, Trey, Cater, Floyd, Scarabia, and Epel! You can remove some characters if you want if it's too much.

Anyway, the request I wanted to make was, how do you think some of the Twisted Characters would react to, in the middle of class (or just during anytime of the school day), the Prefect/Reader sends them like, a suggestive photo of themselves while there out (which may have not seemed like that on the Perfect/Reader end, but might have been seemed different by the characters). How do you think the characters would react? And how would you think they would feel if another student tried peeping at the photo while they were looking at it?

If you decide to do this request, Thank you and I hope you have a nice day! :)

Thank you, I hope you do too

🖤🖤🖤

Suggestive Selfies | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

As you mentioned most of the material they find to be particularly arousing doesn’t necessarily have anything sexual in nature but a yandere knows no bounds. Oh and for the poor soul that dared to lay their eyes on the photo meant specifically for them will be lucky to keep those:

Ace Trappola

As one of your closest confidants Ace is one of the first to have access to you through text

As such its a given you are constantly going back and forth

About homework, hanging out, what you’re eating, whoyou’rewith

So its a given that you send him pictures

It isn’t hard for him to ask either

as long as he words it right

‘Bet. I doubt you actually just woke up’

‘Lol sucks to suck! Now what’d you bet’

He lets a mischevious smile spread across his face as he gets what he wanted

A picture of your minimalist pajama set and messy bedhead

All for his viewing pleasure

It was easiest to imagine waking up beside you this way

Especially after a heated night before

He does take notice to the peaking his roommate is doing

Quick to shove his phone in his pocket

Next day is all it takes for the trail of Riddle’s tart leading to the unsuspecting student

If that isn’t enough he’ll make a big accident potions class

That has the peeping tom feeling like a million fire ants are biting at his skin

“Don’t be looking at others toys, especially when I’m sitting right there. At that point you’re just asking me to defend!”

Trey Clover

He knows you come running for his food

Free and easy its his way to get close to you without your little friends lackeys getting in the way

But he wasn’t expecting you to get so eager to replicate him

But he doesn’t hate the way you start sending him pictures of the things your making

Mostly because you unknowingly end up showing off whatever your wearing in your lonesome

Maybe a thigh in skimpy shorts

Or the voice messages of you struggling with particularly thick batter

That always has him excusing himself

But most recently your picture of a the mini cake you made

Completely unaware of the ample view of your chest that came with it

It leaves nothing to the imagination andhelovesit

But before he can slyly dismiss himself

He sees the eyes of someone in the reflection of his phone

He doesn’t react pretending to scroll before watching them avert

…so they really were watching…scum

He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt but now he’s got an unfortunate confirmation

“It’s a shame…that the next time you eat something it’ll be your last. Should know when to mind your business.”

Cater Diamond

He’s one for pictures

If his story being updated every 30 minutes wasn’t enough

His text messages with you would prove him guilty

With nearly every word there's a picture from him

It wouldn’t be long before you followed suit

Mirroring the images he was so keen on sending you

Eventually one slips through an accidental photo of your body suggestively peaking out

He saves it in no time at all

Already planning to post about how deep he’s in it

But instead he might post about him being in a different location

Then where he dumped the peeper’s body+

“Been here all day! Thinking only about gettinginto bae!”

Floyd Leech

It’s an accident

Most of the time you’re just texting Floyd because you think its funny when he types incorrectly somehow virtually whines to you about not being with you

But you accidentally send a picture of yourself from an unreasonablelysexy angle

“I wanna bite! Where you at!”

Unlike the others he’s not brushing it off or moving on

He’s abruptly leaving class to go find you to dealwithhisfrantichunger

No body’s looking at what made him do that

Not unless they want to be strangled behind the school

“Oi oi did you like what you see…good for you now when you black out you’ll have pretty dreams of my shrimpy!”

Jamil Viper

He’s not usually one for texting

But Kalim is

its more than likely when he has to go somewhere he’s receiving blurry photos of Kalim dragging you around

So he uses this opportunity to ask you for an actually good picture or video evidence

Granted he might’ve played a hand in that

He’s not complaining

Especially when your sending a video of you cheering him on

A call out to a video Kalim had sent earlier

But the sound of your labored breathing, the close-up of your sweaty body

It leaves him showing through his basketball shorts

And when the nosey player peaks over his shoulder

He’s immediately hypnotizing him to injure himself in front of everybody

He thinks its a worthy punishment for trying to take one of the few things he owns

“Thanks for the cheers (Y/n), no doubt I’ll win the next game.”

Kalim Al Asim

He loves texting you

Its like he’s speaking to you while being far away (duh)

It’s the best except…

He never gets to see your face

But you’re so agreeable all he has to do is ask

And sometimes if he keeps talking to you while you’re busy you’ll make mistakes

Mistakes like sending pictures of you posing in a mirror instead of the one you just took

“Delete this…maybe…no!”

He won’t allow anyone to look and if they do Kalim just stares

It doesn’t exactly click that they might have ill intentions

But theres still that nasty feeling in his chest

“Aren’t they pretty…they’re going to be mine one day. Understand!”

Epel Felmier

He typically texts you when he’s deep in etiquette lessons

It only motivates him to deviate even more

Won’t you think he’s manlier if you see how sneaky he is to take a picture now

Now you better send back its not fair that way

A selfie of something simple

Something simple that doesn’t need to incite anything

Say that to the heat overtaking his body

If anyone should look over whether out of curiosity or their own interest

He’s throwin’ hands

“This. Picture. Is. For. My. Eyes. Only!”

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crownmemes · 3 months ago

Text

Criminal Sentences, Vol. 20

(Sentences from various sources for criminals and/or dangerous muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"As tempting as your offer may be, I am a man of principles.... And they bribed me first."

"Think twice about playing games with me; I will blow you to pieces."

"I'm not an expert, I'm not an authority - I'm just an extremely accomplished murderer who spent my adult life successfully evading capture."

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

"For three men to keep a secret, two of them have got to be dead."

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten - you're moonlighting as a criminal mastermind now."

"You must never underestimate me, nor I you."

"It's not easy. Butchering people is hard work."

"Do this right and this job will put us back on the map."

"It's hard stabbing people!"

"And I had you down as a goody two-shoes!"

"If what we're doing doesn't get under your skin, you're either more screwed up than I thought, or you're kidding yourself."

"Do you have any idea how many enemies I have out there?"

"I can delay this, but it won't go away."

"I'm not in the business of being fair! I'm in the business of making money!"

"You've gone soft. We're going to fix that, for your own benefit."

"Can I make a suggestion that doesn't involve violence?"

"I don't think he killed anybody like the newspapers were saying. I think it was you."

"You gave me an empty gun?"

"A head weighs less than a body."

"You dismiss me at your peril."

"Does anyone know you're here?"

"You have some very 'interesting' friends."

"I think you used me before, and I think you're using me now."

"Any lock can be picked if you know how."

"Is it possible that you're upset because the article doesn't mention you?"

"I've done a lot of things for you in the past, but this? No way."

"I'll keep that in mind in case I ever kill somebody."

"I know what you're afraid of me. It's okay; I'd be afraid too."

"It's different being on this side, isn't it?"

"If you don't do this, I'll have you killed. Nothing personal; it's just business."

"There are two things I never forget: faces, and being fucked over!"

"I must warn you that my patience is not inexhaustible."

"Remember when we had that conversation about how you were going to lay low?"

"I've been waiting a long time for someone good enough to take me down."

"If anyone gets nosy, just shoot them."

"You are incredibly evil."

"We stay out of other people's business out here, if you catch my drift."

"You know, you're a marvellously deceptive man."

"Together we'll trick the world!"

"And that is exactly what bad ethics and zero impulse control will get you!"

#rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #assorted;#criminal;

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thegreenlynx · 2 months ago

Text

I Bite, Pretty Boy

Chapter 3: Blood-Sucking Hero

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Violence, attempted murder, and murder in this one.

It is now Saturday and Jisung is walking leisurely through the dimming streets, a heavy bag in each hand. The chilling breeze rustling his white t-shirt is the only other sound aside from the echoed tapping of his shoes against the pavement. He swings the bags mindlessly as he makes his way back to his house, where his friends are no doubt waiting impatiently for his return.

The day of their long awaited hang out had finally arrived and the boys were all pretty excited, having had a grueling week of classes. Naturally however, you cannot have a good proper game sesh with your friends without some yummy things to munch on. And what is one to do when the friend group is in dire need of snacks but the kitchen is scarce of such comfort foods? Well obviously you play rock paper scissors and make the loser go get the snacks for the whole group; It's only fair really.

It had been a long game, the four of them getting combination after combination of unwinnable plays but eventually it ended in a miraculous three scissors majority versus Jisung's single pitiful paper. It would seem they'd finally caught on to his simple, foolish repeating pattern of throwing rock, rock, scissors, paper, and then paper again.

It didn't take him long to find and purchase the snacks, he knew his friends well enough to know exactly what they'd want without asking. These cold autumn days fell to darkness quite early however, and Jisung shivers as the cold air bites his skin.

He has only gotten about ten minutes from the convenience store when his leisure stroll back to his house turns into a brisk walk. He begins to feel the prick of anxiety tingle its way up his spine, goosebumps permeate across the tanned skin of his arms, and the hairs on the nape of his neck raise in alarm.

While his feet move at an increasing pace he turns his head from side to side, glancing cautiously between the alleys and behind him in an attempt to find the source of this sudden unsettling feeling. He feels as though he is being watched, followed perhaps. However, no matter how hard he looks he cannot seem to find the cause.

He attempts to dismiss the feeling, shaking his head and turning to face forward once again. Only to be met with the barrel of a gun being pointed directly at his chest from roughly ten feet away. He immediately freezes, paralyzed in fear. He barely has time to register the presence of the weapon before the masked man goes to pull the trigger.

The expected pain never comes though; instead a blur of movement his human eyes cannot process moves in front of him, blocking the incoming bullet from reaching him. He feels warm liquid splatter onto his t-shirt, and a woman with otherworldly beauty fills his vision.

His consciousness seeps out of him in shock and you catch his now limp body in your arms, letting out an exasperated sigh in response while you gently ease him to the ground. You aren't surprised he fainted, and really it is probably a good thing since he wasn't even supposed to see you in the first place. But by hell is it inconvenient.

As you rise from lowering the cute human to the ground, you turn to face the man who put a bullet in your side. You feel an anger unlike any you've ever known as you stare at the man pitifully scrambling, tripping over himself, to get away from you.

It is not even really that you're mad about the wound. After all while you are bleeding, in a sense anyway, it is isn't exactly a fatal wound for you like it may have been for the human. Still hurts like a bitch, but you'll heal just fine. In a week or so you'll be back to your normal everyday health. And even so while Minho isn't going to be particularly thrilled when he finds out, he'll also be quick to treat it. Whether necessary or not.

The anger you feel stems more from disgust at the man than anything. A gang member, a pathetic one. He is known for wearing a mask whilst killing random, innocent civilians and stealing their possessions. He even uses the most cowardly of weapons, a gun. How is a mere human ever going to have a chance against a gun? You can think of few things as pathetic as that, if you're to steal you should at least earn your goods. Fist fight for it or perhaps engage in a good old knife duel. Shooting some random defenseless college kid? That's going too far. Not only that but it's pretty stupid, what college student has anything worth stealing anyway?

"Hey Min?" You hear your own soft voice echo through the streets as you walk slowly towards the man crawling backwards on the ground. You make no effort to increase your pace, no human could actually escape you anyway.

"W-Wha-?" You ignore the human as he speaks, assuming you must be talking to him rather than the vampire in your ear piece.

That very vampire replies almost immediately afterwards. "Yeah? What is it y/n?" His voice attentive and worried as always.

"I need to run something by you.." You respond thoughtfully. "I had a run-in with a gang member. Tried to kill some cute goofy-looking college boy in the middle of the street till I got in the way." You finally reach the man and push him further to the ground with your foot pressed to his sternum. "I know human vs human isn't typically our area but I couldn't just leave the poor guy to die so I stepped in. Before you freak out, we're both fine. Kid fainted but I need to know what to do with this guy cause he definitely saw me and the whole being a vampire thing."

"Kill him."

You tilt your head coyly, while pressing the heel of your foot slightly into the man's chest. Not reacting as he gasps in pain. "Oh? You sure? Chan might get mad."

"No honestly he'd probably say the same." You hear the man let out a heavy sigh in your ear. "Near the area you are patrolling I've heard about a pretty rough gang terrorizing some neighborhoods. That's kind of why you were sent there, to look and see if there was any vampire involvement in it but I'm fairly certain it's just some filthy humans."

"That bad?"

"Oh yeah. Theft, murder, assaults, human trafficking of both women and children, opioid dealings... the list goes on and on. That group's gotten so many people killed I think everyone would agree it needs to be stopped. Vampires or not, this is probably a situation where we should step in." He hums thoughtfully and continues, "Just make sure no evidence of your presence is left behind. The cops have been on their trail for a while now but have failed to actually catch them, I will deal with the gang by pulling some strings to make sure they finally do within the next week. So all you need to do is kill the man, make it look another gang member could have done it and take the kid home... The kid didn't see you right?"

"Even if he did he probably won't remember it, he fainted immediately. And no one would believe him anyway."

"Good point. If he's a college student he's probably got an ID, so just dig through his bag and send me a quick photo of that when you're done. I'll send you his address. Drop him off at the door, knock, and then leave and come immediately back here. You'll have about reached the end of patrol time by then anyway and I am gonna need your help with my little plan. We also can't risk anyone seeing you with him. You are not to converse with the humans, you will leave the kid at the door for his family or dormmate to deal with. He's not your problem or responsibility, understand?"

"Yes, sir!" You respond with mock enthusiasm, a playful giggle tumbling past your lips while you get up and pull the gang member off the ground by his collar.

The man whimpers in response and you ignore it again in favor of listening to Minho. "I mean it goofy girl, be careful and get your ass back here when you're done." You can practically hear the smile on his face even as he lectures you with his ever serious tone.

"I know, I will, Have some gyoza and ramen ready for me when I get back?" You add a pleading lilt to your voice in an attempt to persuade him to feed you; his cooking is magnificent. To die for really. Vampires may not actually need human food to live, but that doesn't mean they don't crave it every now and again. Besides, it goes wonderfully with a thick glass of blood.

"Whatever you want, princess." Despite the slightly sarcastic tone he uses to hide it, you hear Minho's chair fall to the ground behind him through the ear piece and barely resist a snort as you imagine how he looks darting off immediately to the kitchen. You shake your head, a fond expression on your face as you turn off your mic with your free hand.

"Now, where were we?" You smile in mock sympathy at the man in front of you whilst tapping your chin in fake consideration. "Oh right! Time to die." You don't give the man time to react as you grab a knife from your sock and lodge it into his neck.

The man sputters in response, grabs at his neck as blood seeps down into his clothes. However there is nothing he can do. His body falls slack to the ground and the life slowly leaves his eyes.

You don't stop to watch, simply sighing and turning back to the boy laid carefully on the pavement. You reach into his pants pocket to grab his wallet, scoffing and rolling your eyes at the intricate mermaid design on the cover. You take out the ID and snap a shot to Minho, who follows seconds later with the address. How he managed to do that so fast whilst cooking you a meal, you may never know.

You groan in annoyance before lifting the unconscious college student off the ground, bags and all, to begrudgingly take him to his home. For a grown man, he's fairly light. It also helps that you are a vampire with strength no mortal could compete with.

You use your vampiric speed to get to the address quickly. It's only three blocks away, but you aren't exactly one to dally when Minho gives you orders. Especially when he's got a nice warm meal at home. Not to mention when he sees the gunshot wound he'll probably spend the whole night treating and pampering you. Might even feed you and prepare you a nice warm bath, the sweet man he is.

It's not as if you expect him to do that but he'll do it even if you try to refuse. It's as if he's completely incapable of not doting on you. And well, that certainly beats carrying some weird guy around town.

Although he is pretty nice to look at, for a human.

You gently and silently ease the soft looking nerd against the wall of his house. His white shirt is soaked with your blood and he looks cold. You stare at his face for a few moments, a complicated expression taking over your features before you breathe out a sigh. You settle his bags next to his body and look down at the oversized hoodie tied around your waist. It's surprisingly clean, free of any blood splatter. So you quickly untie it and crouch down in front of the sleeping figure. You cover him snugly into the hoodie before turning to knock loudly on the door.

However, before anyone can answer you disappear off into the night, back to Minho.

Prev | Next | MasterList

Taglist: @estella-novella @jisuperboard @feelikecinderella

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids au #skz fanfic #han jisung x reader #skz au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x you #han jisung x you #han jisung au #han jisung fanfic

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farter-imperator · 1 year ago

Note

i can't stop thinking about diabetic Copia. I hate to be that person, but maybe some more diabetic Copia? 👉👈

Sure!

Copia has a habit of going high when it comes to his blood sugars. He loves carbs, what can he say?

If he does go high, all of the ghouls scrunch up their noses and pull faces. Poor Rain gags at the smell every time, walks off until Copia fixes his bloods. To them, it smells sickly sweet. They can smell the pheromones on Copia's body, on his breath.

When Copia goes high, he gets really dizzy, his head aches, and he's parched. Seeing Copia chug bottles of water outside of performing are sure signs that his sugars are high.

If he's on tour, he'll usually lay down on a sofa backstage (before the show, but after he's eaten) and hold an arm over his eyes, wait for the room to stop spinning.

The ghouls never stay away from him for long, so they come marching into his dressing room soon after, with a view to annoy Copia. But they all freeze as soon as they smell his scent.

Rain gags and walks straight back out. Aether and Cirrus both look at each other and sigh tiredly. Swiss goes "Fuck!" exasperatedly. Mountain mumbles that he has his backup Copia Kit (that's what they call his glucometer kit) always on his person, if needed. Cumulus tuts in sympathy, while covering her nose with her hand. Dew grumbles in frustration.

"Papa, do you know you're high?"

"No, no, I just have a headache..."

"What did you have for dinner?"

"Carbonara... Garlic bread..."

"PAPA."

"It tasted too good, I couldn't resist. It was just a little treat..."

"Did you do your shot before eating?"

"Ehhh... The food came quicker than planned, I didn't have time..."

"PAPA. You always have time."

"Yes, yes..." (dismissive hand wave)

Aether sits by Copia on the sofa, uses the lance from Mountain's kit to check his bloods. They all know he's high, but they can't pinpoint the exact glucose concentration in his blood. Aether always has a little game in his head, he tries to predict Copia's sugar levels before it flashes up on the screen. This time, he predicted 8.5 and Copia was 8. Close, and thankfully not as bad as he thought.

In the meantime, Dew starts to prep Copia's insulin while grumbling in annoyance to himself. Copia knows what will send him into a hyper, and yet occasionally, he still eats carbs and sugars like a starved man.

They always make sure there's a bottle of insulin in the minifridge in Copia's dressing room, and a sharps box on one of the counters. A couple of venue staff have given him weird looks for having a sharps container in his dressing room out of context.

While Aether takes Copia's bloods, he tells Dew exactly how much insulin needs to be drawn up. They're all trained in what to do if Copia goes into a hypo or a hyper, but having Aether there, who's a Ministry infirmary medic when he's not touring, helps keep them on track.

The other ghouls stand close by Copia, wanting to show that they're there for him, but unable to get too close due to the smell. Cumulus steps over, her shirt pulled up over her nose and mouth, and strokes Copia's hair soothingly. She's pulling a face behind the shirt, and keeps coughing.

When Dew comes over with the capped needle, Aether gives him a look and asks him if he wants Aeth to inject Papa. Dew shakes his head silently and pulls up Copia's sweatshirt.

Him laying down isn't the best position to inject in, the skin on his tummy is pulled quite taught, but Copia would flop over if he tried to sit up right now. Dew uncaps the needle and pinches a roll of fat, trying to go somewhere that doesn't have too many track marks, and injects in that area.

Copia hisses and Dew mutters a quiet "That's what you get for not carb counting properly..."

Once the insulin has been infused, Swiss holds out the sharps bin for Dew, and then they all sit and wait for Copia's blood sugars to come down. It usually takes between fifteen to twenty minutes, and the pack don't leave him alone during that time. Just in case they haven't dosed the insulin correctly.

During the waiting period, the ghouls keep themselves entertained. They play a card game, scroll on their phones, chat quietly (Copia's hypers and hypos always make him sensitive to sound). As his sugars slowly drop, checked every ten minutes by Aether, the ghouls slowly shuffle closer to Copia, his scent returning to normal.

By the time he's back down at a normal sugar level, Rain's been invited back into the room, and the ghouls have climbed onto the sofa for a cuddle with Copia,

Dew grumbles to Copia (from where he's curled up on his chest) to never let himself get that high again. He was worried about him.

Copia nods, and agrees that carbonara is off the menu. For now.

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