#yandere gang

[banj0possum]

Yoooo, what are you waiting for it's gangussy time 😡😡 😡😡😡😡

(This is a joke please please please take care of yourself first for the love of whoever is up there don't overwork yourself 🙏 )

Utmost Loyalty

Yan!Gang x GN Reader

no warnings that i know of, theyre just really really stupid

🐉 The grocery you usually go to was closed early for the day, poor you had to walk the 2 miles to the nearest store in order to buy the stuff you needed for the week.

🐉 Living alone was hard work. You worked an exhausting 9 to 5 job that barely provided for your tiny apartment and pet (and your endless merch of your favorite franchise)

🐉 You were already tired from working today, and now you have to walk an extra 2 miles to get groceries you may or may not be able to afford because you never went to said grocery store before??

🐉 The grocery was in a pretty sketchy part of the city, with the smell of car exhaust and cigarettes lingering everywhere that you had to cover your nose to evade the scent.

🐉 You quickly went in the store and breathed in deeply, thankfully the store didn't smell so bad.

🐉 Besides than you, there were only 2 other people, the store owner and someone in a black suit eating some instant noodles.

🐉 You went to work trying to find all the stuff you need on your list. Coffee, fruits and veggies, snacks, and maybe some chocolate as a treat for yourself~

🐉 You pay for your things, unfortunately unable to afford the chocolates, and leave the store.

🐉 aaaaand now its raining...

🐉 You rush to the nearest cover, trying to cover the paper bag full of your groceries before hearing labored breathing from the alley you passed.

🐉 You stop and look back to see a man hunched over, his back to the wall as he winced at a wound he had on his torso that stained his white buttoned up shirt. He looked to have come from a fight..

🐉 You gasp, almost dropping your groceries. His golden eyes dart over to you and glare at your meek form.

🐉 "What're you lookin at?" he growls.

🐉 "You're..bleeding- You're bleeding!!" You start to panic.

🐉 "Yeah no shit I'm bleeding! What the fuck do you want?!"

🐉 You scramble away from the man in the alley frightened and freaked out. Out of instinct, you return to the store and ask where the first aid items are.

🐉 Kagiri sighed, trying his best to hold on while waiting for his gang to arrive and help him out. He just had to be strong. He can get through this. He can do it! He doesn't need anyone!

🐉 "Sorry! I'm back!"

🐉 goddamnit..

🐉 He grumbles at your presence but then realizes you have two bags and not one like you had recently. You put down your groceries and take a few stuff out of the other bag. Band-Aids..gauze..sanitizer..what's going on??

🐉 "What are you doing?" He asks in a threatening voice.

🐉 You don't say anything, you focus on trying to patch up his wounds, asking him a few things once in a while like "can you lift your arm please?" or "unbutton your shirt a bit.."

🐉 And he let you..for some reason...

🐉 He went from growling to staring silently at you while you worked on bandaging his wounds, like a feral dog being pet for the first time.

🐉 Now he managed to get a good look at you. You were quite cute, and it looked like you just got off work from the attire you were wearing. Your hands were so soft compared to his calloused ones, and your eyes..one look from you and even the toughest mafia boss will melt from how comforting they are..

🐉 And before he knows it, you've finished and were apologizing profusely to him for butting in on his situation, he was gonna say something else but you ran off.

🐉 You finally arrive back at your apartment, your pet cat rubbing against you as you lock your door. You smile and pick her up about to ramble about the hectic day you had until you realize..

🐉 You picked up your cat..

🐉 Your hands were free prior..

🐉 YOU LEFT YOUR GROCERIES!!

🐉 Silence fills the room before you let out a pitiful sob. Scolding yourself for forgetting your groceries with that mysterious guy, all that money and fresh food wasted! Your cat tries to lick your face to calm you down.

🐉 You pace around the room trying to figure out what to do now until a knock on your door is heard.

🐉 You open the door but there was no one there, but you see two men hastily and quite loudly scramble their way down the stairs giggling like middle schoolers. Did two grown men really ding dong ditch you??

🐉 You sigh and go to close the door, but your cat meows and trots outside and you look down to see her paw at a bag full of groceries..what?!

🐉 All your groceries were there, plus some extra cans of food, wrapped onigiri..your chocolates? and it wasn't in a dull paper bag anymore, it was in a black tote bag with a gold insignia of a sea serpent.

🐉 You didn't dare question it, considering the looks of the man who helped you and the part of town you were in, he was likely part of some gang and wanted to thank you.

🐉 But it didn't stop there...

🐉 You felt like you were being watched every time you were outside..no, it wasn't a feeling, THEY WERE LITERALLY RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN WATCHING YOU.

🐉 It didn't take a genius to spot them. You started noticing newcomers to the places you frequented. Like in a cafe that was fairly quiet and cozy, there were about 5 men dressed in blazers with some kind of flashy undershirt and gelled up hair at the very back of the establishment.

🐉 They didn't do a good job trying to hide the fact they were watching you with a newspaper.

🐉 It freaked you out, but you tried your best to ignore them.

🐉 But it was hard to do that when they started talking to you..

🐉 "Excuse me, you dropped your wallet.." you turn around and almost stumble over the tall intimidating man right behind you meekly handing you back your wallet.

🐉 You take it back with a shaky hand and waddle away trying not to look back.

🐉 If you did, you'd see the big burly man absolutely blushing and squealing as a few other men giddily walk up to him, showing a video of the encounter you just had from across the street.

🐉 There was also the time you caught them staring dreamily at you when they saw that you started using the tote bag with the serpect symbol as your office bag, it was a pretty nice bag and you didn't want it to just lie around your house..

🐉 And that one co-worker who's kind of a creep? Never messed with you again. You caught a glimpse of them shivering over the symbol on your bag.

🐉 Not to mention boxes of groceries that show up at your door all wrapped up in a red bow, they still haven't learned to be more silent when dropping those off..

🐉 After a bit you start to recognize some of them from their haircuts or the jewelry they always have on them. It made you more curious as to what their deal was.

🐉 So you decided to search up online with the insignia on the tote bag as your first clue.

🐉 You find out that its the symbol for a local gang that dealt with all kinds of stuff, robbery, misconduct, public damage..mostly public damage..

🐉 You manage to find a photo of all of them, you recognize the man in the center. It was the guy you saw in the alley way..

🐉 Connecting all the dots, you somehow got the protection of a gang because you patched up their wounded boss..great..

🐉 The next day you spot a few of the gang members again but instead of ignoring them, you give them a small wave before heading off the work. They were left stunned with a story to tell the others that'll make them squeal like little girls.

🐉 They started becoming less and less distant from you.

🐉 From watching you across the street to making small talk about the prices of fruits at the store.

🐉 One by one the gang gets a special moment with you, they were small mundane moments, but they treasured them like a core memory.

🐉 Word finally got to the boss that you've been very close with them lately, and he decides it's time to confront you.

🐉 As usual, a knock is heard at your door, and you see them clumsily run away, leaving a box of groceries behind..you should probably tell them you have a doorbell.

🐉 But it wasn't a box of groceries, it was full of heart shaped chocolates, sweet pink sweets and about 3 stuffed bears, topped up with a bouquet of flowers, as well as a note. You bring the box in and read small card.

🐉 Dear Mx. L/N, please go to this address tomorrow at 6pm. Don't be late. Please.

🐉 You can see words like 'We love you' and 'Have a nice evening' and 'we cant wait' messily scribbled out.

🐉 You arrive at the location at the designated time and look around.

🐉 The place they wrote in was a fancy looking restaurant that looked like the only thing you could afford was the water..

🐉 You're escorted to a table in a private room. You can hear the muffled noises of men giggling and talking before you enter and they all quiet down. It was quite intimidating to see them all in the same room, but the scariest part was seeing the boss; Kagiri, sitting in the center.

🐉 A little Siamese cat with big yellow eyes mewls at you and you pet it. It jumps up to you and purrs on your lap. Around his neck is a red collar with a gold nametag with the serpent symbol engraved on it, and on the back read 'Unagi'. You hear the men awe softly at the sight of the boss' cat getting along with their darling idol

🐉 Kagiri stands up and smiles at you warmly and by warmly I mean he looks terrifying

🐉 "It's nice to see you again. I never got to formally thank you for what you done to me." he lifts up his shirt a bit to reveal his healed wound which faded into a scar.

🐉 You nervously say you're welcome and shake his hand, you can't help but notice him shiver over your touch.

🐉 He invites you to sit down and eat and you spend the night having dinner and talking with the gang.

🐉 They try their best to impress you, sitting up straight, puffing out their chests, deepening their voices..

🐉 It almost seems like they were competing for your attention.

🐉 Once dinner was over, Kagiri speaks up "Now, about our meeting, we've been meaning to ask you something." he says gently.

🐉 The large man walks over to you and takes your hand and kneeling..what whats happening..

🐉 "Y/N L/N..will you be our new boss?" He asks passionately.

🐉 The gang cheers, pleading for you to say yes, it was like being confessed to by 7 grown men

🐉 "So? What will you say?" Kagiri asks, with eyes sparkling with hope and adoration.

🐉 The gang was kicked out of the establishment for making too loud and causing a disturbance..

🐉 Maybe you shouldn't have said yes..

its done guys, this is probably the most fun ive had writing a fic!! also there may be bonus content about the individual gang members if you guys are up for that ;3

[sunflower-author]

Yandere Bonten x Reader

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The reader is Gender neutral in this!!

TW: Sewer slide attempt, attempt drug use,

Bonten Timeline, where Bonten has kept you in the penthouse for a LONG time, and out of spite from every horrible thing they have ever done, you decide not to speak to them out of resentment Bottling up all your emotions. Hoping that they will eventually grow bored of you and either let you go or finally end your suffering.

One day, in particular, everything that you had been bottling up has finally reached its breaking point...

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“Y/N, go get your hairbrush on the bathroom counter please, I can tell you didn’t brush your hair this morning,” Kakucho said, sitting down on the couch right beside you.

Ever since Mikey said that he prefers your hair long, you were forced to grow it out. You can’t say you like it, but at least it hides all of the ugly marks on your neck and body from them…

Everyone else just goes with it; whatever Mikey says goes. It is unsure if the others like your hair as much as he does, but no matter what, they sure do act like it.

Getting up, then making your way to the main bathroom everyone uses, spotting the black brush, then grabbing it, and just as you were about to leave it caught your eye.

A little orange bottle with a white childproof cap. Slowly picking it up, you begin to realize that it is one of Sanzu’s many drugs. He must have left it here on accident, rushing for his mission today.

Bad day for him, but amazing for someone like yourself.

There is a good amount of pills in this container, and knowing Sanzu, only carrying around the ‘best’ (strongest) on him. He could drain this dry and it still wouldn’t be enough for someone like him.

This would be enough to kill any normal person, especially someone who has been clean for over a few years.

Slowly opening the cap, pouring the rest of the bottle in hand. Then quickly raise all of it to your mouth, only to have a hand grip your wrist.

You don't even need to turn to know who it is.

“I can’t even leave you alone for a minute before you end up doing something dangerous, put it down,” Kakucho says as he sighs. Physically, there is no chance against Kakucho.

Putting your arm down slightly to put the pills back in the bottle, while you are doing that, Kakucho’s grip softens little by little.

Once the cap is closed, you turn to look at him dazed.

“I won’t tell anyone… but if I catch you doing that again, I’m telling everyone,” he says, as he takes the pill bottle. Nodding your head yes, you just grab the brush as you both walk back to the couch.

After settling down, he starts to brush your hair. “Honestly what were you thinking? Did you just want to be on drugs or something, or was that a serious attempt?” he asks, sighing again.

“Listen I know that you hate your life here. But is it truly that bad? You can have whatever you want, having Kokonoi and Takeomi buy you anything you could dream, Sanzu would literally do anything for you, Mocchi would always listen to your rants when you talked, Ran and Rindou well they argue a lot but are fun to watch too… I try my best… even if you don’t see it…” his words are slow and cold.

“I admit that I am just as guilty as the rest of them, and everything we do is for your safety… even if you don't think it is… that is the truth…You may despise us for the rest of your life, but as long as we can keep you safe, that is what matters…” At this point, he seems to be pouring his heart out…

Sadden asks, “Do you hate me…? For doing all of this?” Shocked you shook your head no… Kakucho did nothing… all he ever did was follow orders, even if he hurt you and others, he is not to blame, you know that he feels guilty for everything he has done. After all, you have always felt slight empathy towards Kakucho, he is the kindest out of all of Bonten.

“Will you please talk to me again,” He begs more than questions, you just shrug, leaving that as that. “Is life better now, than when it was when you first was brought here?” he asks, you reply with a simple nod. “That’s good at least, although I can imagine that it was like hell, the first few days,” he responds. Try the first few weeks…

After a good handful of questions, he pauses for a few seconds like he is thinking, confused, you tilted your head back and looked at him. Suddenly it is like the lightbulb rang for him.

“Would you be willing to respond to me, with more specific answers, if I have you write it down? That way you wouldn’t have to speak?” he says, nodding your head yes. He rushes out of the room to grab something.

When he is back, he has an iPad in hand, pulling out the stylist pen, he gives the pen to you as he sits on the couch. Looking at the Ipad it is already in drawing mode. “Now… why don’t you talk?” he asks.

‘I wanted to punish you guys for everything you ever did to me. I thought if you guys assumed I was broken, maybe I would find a way, to not live like this, even a peaceful death would be ideal.’

When he was reading this you could tell that he was stunned unsure of how to respond he just asked another question. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

You write, ‘Until I can be free, or at least have some freedom’

“I can talk with Mikey…” You both know that the conversation will be a waste of time for both Kakucho and Mikey, but he can still try if he wants to.

‘You’re a good person Kakucho, compared to everyone else you have the most empathy. Plus you only follow orders, due to your loyalty. I know you mean no harm to me, even if it is for better or worse, truthfully if it was just you and me I would talk to you.’ You wrote down.

“What do you mean? We are alone,” he states. Just two words I write down, ‘security cameras’ After he reads that he says, “Oh I forgot about that…,” as he looks up around the room looking at the cameras.

“I know you think we are being excessive with everything, but you have to know, we are doing everything we can to protect you… we know everything about you… there are no secrets that are kept between us…” He takes a longing pause. He is quiet… too quiet, Shit you have a bad feeling about this…

He sighs thinking, then turns to you. “Y/N… you know that Bonten made a pact to keep no secrets, and to take care of you… and today you just tried to overdose with Sanzu’s drugs… This is not just a small secret I would be hiding from them. This is about your life you could have died today if I wasn’t there to catch you... I’m sorry but I will have to tell them. I care about you and your safety… this is something I can’t hide from them.” he says looking down in shame.

This fucker… If he tells them you would be on a tighter leash than before. Things would be like how they were when they first took me. There is no way in hell you are starting back at the bottom. You have worked your way by playing nice, then the silent treatment, which they all hate. If you are back at the bottom it will take months til you can just freely walk around this building.

You know what… Fuck it you had already told him too much if you go out... You're going out with a bang. This is just a lot to grasp… This is to be expected from Sanzu, Ran, Mochi… But Kakucho?... Kakucho is too loyal for his own fucking good.

Blinded by rage, standing up you yell. “You’re Just As Fucked Up As The Rest Of Them,” After saying it is weird… your voice doesn’t sound like your voice, it is weak, and not as loud as you would have wanted to say it… Fuck... You messed up your vocal cords.

Looking at Kakucho in a brief second, he is taken aback. Your voice shocked him and yourself. Just wanting to leave and go into the bedroom.

However... As you turn you see the rest of the Bonten members, standing by the door, in pure shock. That gives you enough information, to know that they heard you.

Well, fuck….

A few moments of silence fall upon us until you finally dare to try to walk away. Only taking a few steps before a voice was heard. “Hold on Y/N, come over,” Great and that was Mikey…

You are immediately making your way infront of him and the group. “You talk to Kakucho, but not me,” he says voice filled with hurt. Should you dig myself deeper into this mess?

“I’m sorry, Mikey…” you weakly manage out, after yelling at Kakucho, you need to rest my vocal cords, your voice is hoarse, and it hurts so much the others can tell, to the point some flinch once they hear. But it doesn’t matter, you could be feeling the worst pain ever, and as long as you're alive and breathing they would be okay with that.

“So what? That is all you have to say? We heard you talk, give up your little tantrum, and talk to us, I knew you would break… longer than I anticipated but you still broke,” Ran says, wanting to hear you talk, after not hearing your voice for over a few years, judging the room they all want to hear it too.

Did this Bitch not just hear me talk? What else would he want me to say? Is he truly such a fucking sadist that he wants to hear me struggle to talk? you begin to think.

Well, in that case, you plan on saying something to him loud and clear.

“You know what? Fuck you Ran, I have been wanting to say that for so long now, you are such a manipulative shit, you really think I didn’t see through all your bullshit, how you think of yourself as a god… you think you are so great… you are just a sadist, who cheats, and contributes to nothing…. It is only because of your ‘respect’ which was beating up kids younger than you, were you feared, without beating up helpless kids, you ought to be nothing, you would still be at the bottom of Roppongi in jail, with all of the failures,” you say holding my throat, trying not to breathe hard.

“Calm down Y/N, you know it is just Ran being Ran,” You are not sure if Rindou is being sincere in saying this or saying this just to shut you up. At this point you don’t give a fuck, you're already pissed.

“You think you’re any better Rindou? the only reason people see you as a nice person is that everyone compares you to Ran. Since I can remember people have been blinded by Ran, all overlooking just how cruel, and cold-hearted you are. You are just a follower, doing whatever Ran tells you to do, following blindly behind him. To the point where all you will ever be… is your big brother’s shadow…” Your voice is getting softer and softer, Shit, you worry, just how much longer will you still be able to talk?

“Your voice is getting worse, stop talking Y/N,” Kokonoi says concerned.

“You wanna be next?” You ask “Because you-,” Just like that, you couldn’t even finish your sentence before starting a coughing fit. After catching your breath, and notice just how sore your throat is, feeling like the after-effect of overusing it, pained to the point where it hurts to breathe.

Seeing your vision start to blur, starting to tear up. You have no idea why… What is wrong with you? Is it the pain? Or are you just being emotional all of a sudden? Why do they all have to be here? Do they think you're weak now? What is wrong with everything? How did things end up like this?...

Feeling arms wrap around you. Freezing, but then recognizing it is Kakucho. Even when you curse at him, he is here comforting you. You can’t hate him but you can’t love him. All you can do is accept him, and that is exactly what you did, at that moment.

Breathing out a breath, you didn't realize that you were holding. Relaxing your shoulders, and body, turning into his chest, not being able to handle all of their cruel stares. No matter how hard you try, tears won't stop falling…You can just feel their eyes burning your back.

“What are you guys all staring at? You all are acting like children watching a movie, Y/N has never shown any emotion for over a year, and when they finally do, all you guys plan to do is watch. They are breaking down in Kakucho’s arms,” Akashi says, breaking the tension and silence.

Always count on Akashi to be an adult when situations become grim.

“We’ll all talk together on the couch…” Mikey says, hearing his footsteps go, and the others follow behind him, as they fade. You feel Kakucho gently push you, away from him.

“Ready to follow?” he whispers. Nodding your head yes, as you slowly walk to the coach, Everyone is sitting down, and Mikey motions you to sit between him and Akashi the only other two that can keep a calm mind, no matter what goes down.

At this point, you've stopped crying, but your nose and eyes were still red, and once you sat down all hell broke loose.

“I think that Y/N should get punished for talking to me like that,” “They are hurting enough, what they said was nothing, compared to what your victims say to you,” “And I kill them for it,” “Stop being such a big baby Ran, just man up,” “Oh I know you did not just tell me to ‘man up’, being the only one that doesn’t even get their hands dirty,” “Oh? Do you want your little allowance cut?” “I swear to God, Koko if you-”

“Enough,” Mikey says, everyone is still, no one dares disobey the leader after all.

Mikey then looks at Akashi signaling something, then Akashi looks at you. Confused you wait until he says.

“Now Y/N I know you're in pain, but what you said to Ran and Rindou was uncalled for, completely immature, and you knew that were their… weak points, you need to apologize to them,” Akashi says, careful of his words.

“I’m sorry… Rindou… Ran,” you say looking down, in a low tone, your voice still scratchy.

“What was that? It was hardly sincere and he could at least talk loud enough for me to understand,” Ran complains.

Seeing Akashi give you a look, you knowingly sigh. Looking up at Ran in the eyes, hatefully “I'm sorry… Ran” louder, hearing the anger and strain almost raspyness. Then turning to his brother, calming yourself, you softly say “Sorry,” being earnest.

Just as the older brother is about to say something, Akashi cuts him off saying “Ran,” in a warning tone. Ran ends up rolling his eyes, and he leans back more on the couch.

“Now Y/N…” You hear Mikey say, grabbing everyone's attention.

“Do you or Kakucho want to explain what happened today? Especially for you to lose your temper like that?” He asks intrigued about what happened, he has not normally shown this much emotion for quite some time, putting everyone more on edge.

Looking at Kakucho in a warning, begging way, for him not to tell them. Kokonoi, being the observant person he is notices. “Oh? It must be good to have you looking at Kakucho like that…” Right when Koko says that all the other's eyes are on you. Fuck…. Just great…. you think.

Looking down, ignoring their stares, waiting for Kakucho to say something.

“Today, Y/N went to the bathroom to grab their hairbrush… they were taking a bit longer than normal… so I went to see what the problem was… and when I looked in the room…” He pauses, feeling uncomfortable.

“Well hurry up what happened?” “It can’t be ‘that’ bad… can it?” “Just spit it out already,” “Kakucho…” Mikey says softly, not demanding, but reassuring, and manipulative… he can be gentle.. When he wants to…

Kakucho then takes out the pill bottle, tossing it to Sanzu only for it to be caught, by Akashi. “I found him about to take the rest of the pills in the bottle,” he finally says. Sanzu starts to pale, knowing he’s in trouble.

Everyone else, looks at Sanzu, like they're about to kill him… I wouldn’t be against that…

“The rest of these you say Kakucho? Sanzu…Just 5 at once would have killed them… Nevertheless the rest of this bottle… you were careless…" Akashi says looking at Sanzu, but then he continues.

"Almost getting Y/N killed… But then again... Who knew,” he says now turning to you.

”They would be so suicidal,”

(IDK HOW TO END THIS... PLZ LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS;))

[silversnakes-yan]

How yanderes react to an innocent and very airheaded reader

✲𝓘𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻✲

Rory w/ an innocent reader

Isaiah

His protectiveness multiplies by 100. Isaiah will quickly become your scary guard dog. Trust, no one’s going to bother you with a 6’2 built man hanging around you like a bodyguard.

He’ll also want to take care of you even more. All the heavy lifting and strenuous chores will be left to him. Honestly you won’t have to lift a finger around him.

Jason

Has a huge corruption kink. He would love to mess with a darling like this. He’ll think that you’re gullible naive and very easily persuaded.

Pulling reactions out of you will fuel his ego tremendously. Whether it be by scaring, threatening or humiliating you. He’ll turn into an even bigger beast than he already is…

Noah

Low key wants to see you get high for the first time. Noah will also think it’s funny to play pranks on you. You will not know peace around him. Will only stop if you cry or explicitly tell him you don’t like it. Then he’s begging for forgiveness.

Other than that guys would be two peas in a pod. Noah himself can be air-headed as well. You two will most likely be in your own little oblivious world.

Arlo

You remind him of his sister in a way. He’ll think you’re cute. Too cute. His brain will short-circuit around you constantly.

This relationship will be the most slow burn of slow burns. He’s not very good at being around his crushes. Let alone a crush that doesn’t pick up on his advances. He’ll most likely suffer in silence.

[metranart]

Will you be Toman’s darling? Mikey can’t seem to stop asking, it’s not enough to be able to fuck you whenever he wants, he needs the title that you’re HIS but not only his but also his mates, those guys he loves more than his own life… and unfortunately, you do as well. 

You don’t understand why it’s so important to them, but each one has asked the same question over and over again. Draken kisses you, his tongue dancing with yours while his hips don’t miss a single thrust, it’s delicious, it’s delirious and he only dares to break the kiss to ask. “Will you be ours?” —You don’t answer, just bite his lip and begin to thrust your hips to him, as a way to distract him but he’s not dumb and less of all, a quitter, so he won’t give up, none of them will! 

Baji’s strong hands anchor you to him, perched on either side of your hips as he rams you from behind, your eyes have been blank for more than fifteen minutes, his name rolls off your tongue like your private mantra and from his tongue rolls: “Say yes,” his ragged breath demands, “Stop torturing us and say yes, shit!” The answer he wants to hear isn’t spoken but that doesn’t discourage him from cumming deep inside you -marking you from the inside out at least gives him so kind of relieve-…. 

Mitsuya’s attempts are more tender, kisses and cuddles, your naked bodies tangled in each other, the strong fingers of his fist tangled among your sweaty strands of silky hair, each thrust hitting that special place inside you that makes you see stars, his lips only parting to adore you and when you think you’re safe: “We will take care of you, we will go out of our way for you… just say yes, just grant us that favor—be OURS….”. Apparently being filled by each and every one of these gang members isn’t enough, moaning their names and marking their necks with hickey doesn’t satisfy them, they want you for themselves, they want you in their gang as their banner as their princess. 

Mikey is the most stubborn, his fat thumb slides under your skirt, snaking behind your panties, two fingers accompanying it to slip inside you, drumming and circling your clit as if it were the joystick of an Xbox control, your flushed cheeks and half-open lids delight him, makes him drunk and dizzy, just being able to put you in that delirious state. He knows it’s his mission in life to have you like this forever, you’re his, you must conquer Tokyo with them, you must stop resisting and agree to their terms. Mikey doesn’t waste any moment to ask, while he kisses you, while he eats you out, while he makes you cum harder than ever. 

“Will you be ours? ....yesyesyesyes-?”

Their teamwork is weakening your good judgment, it’s too much, your knees buckle, and your voice is a permanent moan. Damn! Your shivering lips parted and the gazes of the four gang members shine with hope. Anxiety and stress can be detected in their clenched fists, a heavy silence falls over everyone when you say: 

“I’m already yours, why do we need to tag it… I’m not going anywhere.”

There is disappointment, frustration, even anger but also amusement in their features. They won’t accept a refusal. They will just have to keep convincing you, again and again and again. You are stubborn, but so are they.

➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble 🥵

[sweet0puppy]

Reblog if u want anonymous dms and asks ;)

[heartfullofleeches]

Mime Reader, signing: I will crash this van if you don't give me a night to myself.

Pink Murder Clown: Dear, surely you understand we keep an eye on you because we want to keep you safe, no?

Blue: We'd never forgive ourselves if you got hurt :,(

Green: Nor the perpetrators

Yellow: You won't do it. Mimey is too sweet to hurt us. [Gets closer as they whisper in the mime's ear] Crash the car. Crash the car. Crash-

Orange: Ha! Good luck- You'd have to pry the wheel out of Red's dead hands.

[The clown says nothing, but glares at the mime with a stare of warning.]

Mime Reader: >:(

Purple: Aw, they're so cute when they're mad. Another reason why we can't left you off by your lonesome. Somebody else might snatch you from us.

[The mime grips their hands tightly as if they're angrily grabbing the wheel of a car.]

Purple: Whoa, whoa- Let's not do something you'll regret.

[traumaticenby]

yandere picrew chain, anyone ??💌

[ak319]

Dark A.M x fem!reader

-- ★ The Word of Claim ┃ ─𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏─

Syno: Word of claim, a tradition where a man fires his weapon outside a woman's home and speaks her name, and in that moment, she becomes his wife. Though deemed unlawful, a taboo… who cares? Outlaws never follow laws, do they? Warnings/MDNI: none. ✰ 8.8K tag list: @shackspossum @whalecage @nayykura

─concept m.list

Dutch and Hosea cackled as they stepped out of the saloon, the warm glow of lamplight catching the edges of their grins.

“That was so easy,” Dutch said, his voice carrying the smooth satisfaction of a man who always believed he was one step ahead.

Hosea nodded, slapping Dutch on the back. “Didn’t I tell you? Weekend nights are a gold mine.” He jingled the coins in his hand, counting quickly before slipping the money securely into his pocket. The night was brisk, the sounds of drunken chatter and distant music blending into the background as the two made their way to the horses.

But Dutch’s steps slowed, his attention snagging on something, or someone, further down the street.

“Hosea... you see that?”

Hosea followed Dutch’s gaze, his amusement dimming. A young girl, no older than nine or ten, stood motionless on the wooden sidewalk. Her wide eyes darted around, her expression a mix of terror and confusion. She was dressed too neatly for the dusty town, her clothes crisp and well-tailored, the kind of outfit only a wealthy family could afford.

“Hmm,” Hosea muttered, a note of unease creeping into his tone. “Poor kid looks lost.”

“Lost,” Dutch repeated, a contemplative edge in his voice. His sharp eyes studied her, taking in every detail, the way her hands nervously twisted the fabric of her clothes, the tear tracks streaked across her flushed cheeks, the way she shrank against the lamppost as if the world were too big and too dangerous.

“Dutch,” Hosea said quietly, sensing where this might be heading.

But Dutch had already started forward, his expression shifting into something softer, something almost kind. “Well, hello there, darlin’,” he called out, his voice warm and honeyed, the tone he used when reeling someone into his plans.

The girl flinched, her small hands clutching her skirt tighter. She didn’t respond, her eyes locked on Dutch as if trying to decide whether he was a threat or a savior.

Hosea sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dutch, maybe we oughta-”

“She’s scared, Hosea,” Dutch interrupted, his gaze never leaving the girl. He crouched slightly, his tone coaxing. “Ain’t no need to be frightened, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

"I am not te-lling."

"Okay, no problem. Ain' prying. Where are you parents? We can take you to them , help you find em'"

“I--they’re gone... on a trip,” you mumbled, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes.

“A trip?. Where to?”

“I--I don’t know!. I just wanna go home!” you cried, your small body trembling with the effort to hold back sobs.

Dutch’s expression flickered, something unspoken passing between him and Hosea. With a heavy sigh, Hosea stepped forward, his tone calm and measured. “Alright now, missy, let’s sit down for a bit. You tell us what you can, and we’ll see if we can figure this out, eh?”

It took some coaxing and the promise of something to eat, but soon you found yourself sitting on a park bench between the two men. Hosea handed you a crumpled handkerchief to wipe your tears while Dutch leaned forward, listening intently as your words spilled out in fits and starts.

Your parents, you explained, had left for a business trip to France. You had been left in the care of your uncle and aunt. But things had taken a dark turn. They had kicked you out of your own home, their jealousy of your parents’ wealth and status boiling over into spiteful revenge.

Dutch leaned back, his brow furrowing as he processed your story. This is some next-level low, even for him. Kicking out a little kid, from her own house? Over some family feud? But his brain conjured some good out of this too...

"So, she knows when her parents are gonna be back," Dutch began, a sly smile creeping across his face. "And I know they’re rich as hell, Hosea. So let’s help her, wait for their grand return, even better when they hang those posters and when we bring their little girl back..."

“We get rewarded?” Hosea deadpanned as he shot a glance at you, sitting a few feet away on the bench, quietly sniffing into the handkerchief. Mhm, not completely a bad idea...

Dutch’s grin widened. “Exactly.”

“I'm in.”

As they turned back toward you, Dutch crouched again, his voice soft but firm. “Alright, darlin’, here’s the deal. You come with us, and we’ll take care of you till your folks get back. Safe and sound. How’s that sound?”

You hesitated, your eyes flickering between the two men. “I don’t know... I don’t want to.”

Dutch’s expression hardened, the softness giving way to a sharper edge. “Well, let me tell you somethin’. Ain’t nobody else out here gonna take pity on you. You’re a kid alone on these streets. If someone don’t snatch you up to sell or worse, they’ll leave you to starve. That what you want?”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. You shook your head slowly, clutching the handkerchief tighter.

“Then come on,” Dutch urged, standing and offering his hand. “You don’t have to trust us, but right now, we’re all you’ve got. And I promise, we’ll get you home.”

With no other choice, you let yourself believe him, just enough. You reached out hesitantly, placing your small hand in his larger one. Somehow, it felt like a lifeline.

❀˖°

That's how you ended up living with a gang, although you never imagined it would be for a whole two months. You understood the concept of outlaws...that they were terrible people. But these folks? They weren’t so bad… Well, most of them.

"HEY! IT'S MINE!"

"Not anymore." With that, John devoured your entire chocolate bar in one bite.

"AUNTY SUSAN GAVE IT TO ME!"

"Well, too bad. It’s gone. Now what? You gonna cry, little princess?-OW! OW! HEY-"

"Why can’t you leave her alone, huh?!" Arthur’s voice boomed as he stepped in, giving John a few solid smacks before pushing him away. "Idiot..."

You watched as Arthur turned to you, his expression softening. You immediately sat down in silence, instinctively becoming still. He could be kind of scary when he wanted to be, even at 15.

"Um... sorry for him," Arthur muttered, looking at you with an awkward smile. "Here, you can have mine." He pulled out another chocolate bar, but you shook your head, rejecting it.

"Please...take it."

You nodded and took it muttering a small thank you, still feeling too embarrassed to have accepted the gesture.

He gave you a small, understanding nod. "Just call me...if he bothers again. Alright?" Then, with a half-smile, he wandered off.

That's how you and Arthur began interacting. He was genuinely interested in learning about your life, curious about how others lived. At first, you were intimidated by him, but slowly, you began to share bits of your life when he asked, and over time, the two of you became friends.

He taught you things you didn’t know, how to clean a gun, the different parts, even use it, and how to properly care for a horse. You were fascinated by his patience, as he showed you step by step, making it seem so simple and easy. It was a peaceful and surprisingly enjoyable activity for both of you.

Arthur found a sense of home in the camp, a rare calm amidst the chaos. And for you, it became a momentary escape from the pain of missing your parents and the anger you felt toward your relatives.

He never had a female friend close to his age in this life, and it was refreshing for him to find someone who wasn’t afraid to speak their mind or laugh at the little things.

But then the time came, the time for your parents' arrival. Dutch decided it was appropriate enough to take you back, and so he, Hosea, and Arthur went along, though the boy wasn't entirely sure why he did. Maybe he just wanted to see where you came from, see your house.

When your parents saw you return, safe and happy, it was like they’d been revived. They were grateful to Dutch and the gang for taking care of you. You told them how these people had saved you, and, true to their word, they paid Dutch a generous amount for the trouble. All in all, it was a weary, yet friendly encounter. Dutch didn’t rob them, and your parents never suspected the gang's true intentions.

Your aunt and uncle had long been thrown out, so that was one relief. Of course, your father wouldn’t ever let go of the anger, but for now, everything seemed calm.

Arthur, however, was feeling something else. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d grown used to your presence in the camp. A new, refreshing friend in a world that had so little of that to offer. He couldn’t help but feel a little sad as you said your goodbyes to the three of them. He threw one last glance at your form, watching as you walked inside, safe and sound, where you truly belonged

But one day, Arthur decided to stop being afraid of something as simple as a friendship. He figured he'd visit you, and see how you were doing, but when he arrived, he found out you were gone. You had moved somewhere else, and no one seemed to know where.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and returned to camp. Perhaps it was for the better. What had he been thinking? What would the others have thought, your parents, especially? What was he even expecting? He couldn’t quite put it into words.

A nagging thought lingered in his mind. But he shook it off. Maybe it was just a momentary lapse that didn’t need to be dwelled on. After all, what did it matter?

❀˖°

The years passed by, and both of you were busy with your own lives. More than most, Arthur immersed himself in the gang’s work, the constant pull of jobs, and the weight of other matters. Matters like heartbreaks. Like Mary...

The twenty-six-year-old sighed as he shut his journal, his mind drifting back to simpler days. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the silence to settle around him, but just a few minutes later, Ms. Grimshaw’s voice cut through the quiet.

"Mr. Morgan, got a minute?" she called from the doorway. Arthur groaned internally, but he sat up, rubbing his face.

"What is it, Ms. Grimshaw?"

"Got to head to the town for supplies. You up for it? Shouldn’t take long."

Arthur thought for a moment. He could use a few things himself, some ammunition, maybe a new hat.

"Yeah, I guess. Let's go."

The dusty road to the town was a familiar one, the wooden buildings of Sable Creek rising ahead as they crested a hill. The town had a certain charm to it, despite the ever-present stench of horse manure and the occasional storms that rolled through. It was a regular stop for the gang. Supplies, people to talk to, and if you were lucky, a drink at the saloon.

Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw made their way into town, picking up what they needed without much fuss. She was quick and efficient, always knowing exactly where to find the best goods for the gang’s needs.

After they'd gathered what they came for, Arthur’s eyes fell on a poster pinned to a wall, the ink stark against the old wood. The name on it stopped him dead in his tracks.

It was your father's name, (F/N) (L/N). The same name that had once meant nothing more to him than a fleeting memory. But now, there it was, emblazoned across the poster, paired with an unfamiliar slogan about (L/N)'s Manor and Mercantile Services. Arthur’s heart skipped. He stared at it, his pulse quickening.

He approached the poster and ran his fingers across the faded paper. "What the hell...?" he muttered to himself.

Your father, he couldn’t believe it. That name, your name… it had come back to him in an unexpected way

He was about to walk away when he noticed a man leaning against the nearby post, whittling a stick. A typical town local, rugged and weathered, the kind who might know something about the area. Arthur walked over, his steps fueled with curiosity, the urge to know more, tipping his hat to the man.

"Hey. You know anything 'bout (L/N)’s...residence?

The man glanced up at him, eyeing Arthur with a mix of suspicion and indifference. "(L/N)'s? Sure, I know 'em. Big uh estate...just a few miles north of here. Fancy place. Always got something going on, business deals, functions, you name it. Real high-falutin'. You lookin’ to pay 'em a visit?"

"Just curious. Never been out there. Figured... I might check it out."

The man gave a short laugh, scratching his chin. "Not many folks 'round here who want to go there. But if you do, take the road north by the old mill. You can’t miss it."

Arthur nodded, thanks on the tip of his tongue. Before he could say more, Ms. Grimshaw called from a distance, waving her hand impatiently.

"Arthur, let's go! We're burnin' daylight!"

He turned to the man once more. "Appreciate it."

As he walked away, his mind was a swirl of thoughts. He hadn’t expected to find out anything like this today. He glanced back at the poster one more time before putting it in his pocket, his thoughts drifting to you and what had happened since he last saw you.

For now, he’d finish the supply run.

❀˖°

"Kay' wait here and I'll go ask."

Arthur stood still, watching as the guard disappeared inside the large, grand estate, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The estate was even bigger than he'd imagined, its iron gates tall and imposing, with carefully manicured gardens on either side. He couldn’t help but feel out of place, a simple outlaw in a world of opulence.

Minutes passed before the guard emerged again, walking toward him. Arthur’s gaze flicked over the scene, but something about the figure approaching him made his heart skip. He blinked in confusion, unsure of what he was seeing. And then, from the distance, he saw you.

You were walking toward him, your pace steady and sure, your eyes narrowing as you took in his figure. Arthur’s mind raced, this couldn’t be real, could it? It had been so long since that day he left you, since the gang had dropped you off at your parent's estate. And now, here you were, standing before him, looking different, yet somehow still the same.

"(Y/N)?" Arthur asked, his voice coming out almost as a whisper, unsure whether this was just a trick of the light or something else entirely.

You stopped in front of him, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Yeah... it’s me. Arthur?"

He took off his hat, his hands feeling awkward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You remember me?"

You stifled a laugh, your gaze sharp and assessing. "Of course, oh my God! I remember every one of you. How could I forget that time?" You paused for a beat, eyes softening just a fraction as if the memory made you nostalgic, or maybe something more. "How did you even find me!?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze for a moment. "Saw a poster in town. Your father’s name. Thought it was a coincidence, but..." He shrugged, unsure how to explain. "Guess it wasn’t."

"A poster, huh? Guess that’s one way of tracking someone down." Your tone was playful, yet there was an edge to it, like you weren’t sure whether to welcome him or not.

Arthur took a moment to really look at you, your appearance had changed and matured...beautifully. You carried yourself differently, more poised, more... put together than he remembered. He looked away embarrassed praying you didn't notice him observing you.

“I didn’t...expect to see you here,” Arthur finally said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You smiled, a soft, knowing smile that made his heart stutter. "And I didn’t expect you to be looking for me." there was a faintest trace of amusement in your voice.

“I… I didn’t know what to expect. Thought I’d just see how you’re doing. Been a long time. So...how’s everything? Your folks?”

You sighed, your shoulders relaxing a little. “My folks are fine. Busy with their business. Nothing really changes, you know? And you? What’s the real story? You look… different, Arthur."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I’ve had a lot of time to change, I guess. Been around, and seen some things. I didn’t mean to disrupt anything. Just… curious. Wanted to know if you were alright.”

With a small sigh, you uncrossed your arms and nodded. “Well, I’m fine. I’m… alright. But what about you? How’s life for a man like you now?”

Arthur’s smile faltered, the weight of his own life pressing down on him. "It ain't easy," he admitted, scratching his jaw. "But it's life, you know? Just trying to keep my head above water."

You looked at him again, the faintest flicker of something in your eyes, pity, maybe, or understanding. It was hard to tell. "Anyway, come on in."

Arthur blinked, still processing the invitation. “I--inside? I mean... you do know who I am, right?” His words faltered, and he glanced nervously at the manor around him, feeling out of place. “And I’m sure your parents-”

You cut him off with a dismissive wave. “No, no, they won’t mind. My parents aren’t that strict, you know?” You gave him a quick, mock assessing look, one eyebrow quirking up. “And you sure aren't here to rob us, are you?”

Arthur let out a short laugh. “Of course not! I just-” He stopped, fumbling for the right words. “I didn’t expect this. But... uh, okay. I’ll come in.”

You grinned and waved him inside. “Then come on, I can’t stand out here in the heat any longer. We don't send guests away just like that.. Especially old friends!”

With a slight chuckle of his own, Arthur followed you toward the door. He handed the reins of his horse to a nearby stable hand, still bewildered by the whole situation.

As you led him inside, Arthur couldn’t help but glance around, eyes wide as he took in the lavish surroundings. The grand staircase, the polished floors, and the meticulously arranged furniture. It was a far cry from the dusty campsites and rundown cabins he was used to.

"Do you know I have a little brother now? Rayan. He's 10, but he's taking a nap right now. My father is actually gone for a few days, but mum is home - MAMA! Look who's here! Let's hope she remembers you." Before Arthur could protest, your mother's voice startled him, and he, despite being clearly visible, stood behind you, making you snort at the way he reacted. "Relax, she not gonna eat you."

"Who is this, (Y/N)?" your mother asked, her voice a mix of polite curiosity and a hint of panic. She stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over Arthur, who had awkwardly remained behind you, practically peeking from over your shoulder.

"Um--Hi...Mrs. (L/N)..."

You quickly stepped forward, giving her a reassuring smile. "Mama, it's Arthur, Arthur Morgan. From back then, you know, from the camp. He was one of the ones who... helped me when I was lost."

Your mother's expression softened immediately as the recognition clicked. She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning Arthur once more as if confirming it for herself. “Ahh, yes... I remember now. I thought you looked familiar.” She gave him a small, polite smile, her shoulders relaxing. “I hope you’re well, son.”

Arthur nodded, his usual stoic demeanor now softened by the fact that your mother seemed to remember him. Your mother's warm reaction put him at ease, and he began to feel less like an intruder and more like... someone who had once been part of your life.

"I hope you are well too...Mrs. (L/N)."

"Well, make yourself at home, Arthur," your mother said with a slight bow of her head before disappearing back into the other room, leaving you and Arthur alone to continue your impromptu tour.

You immediately began ushering Arthur through the house. "Alright, let me show you around!" Your voice was light and almost giddy, as you led him from one room to another, more like dragging.

"This is the study!"

"This is the sunroom!"

"This is the snooker room! Nice right?."

You quickly moved on. “And this is my favorite piece.” You pointed at an ornate, vintage mirror on the wall, its frame carved in intricate patterns. “It was a gift from my aunt. She said it’s been in the family for years.”

Finally, you stopped in front of a door, and your grin widened. “And this is my room!” you said, throwing the door open with a flourish.

Arthur stepped inside your room cautiously, his hat gripped tightly in his hands, his gaze darting around the space as though he were intruding on something sacred. The room was spacious yet inviting, with soft, muted colors that seemed to reflect your personality. Plush furniture filled the space with warmth, while delicate paintings adorned the walls, their subjects peaceful and idyllic. A large window bathed the room in sunlight, framing a picturesque view of the garden outside. The books on the shelves and the papers piled neatly on your desk hinted at a thoughtful and busy life.

Arthur shifted awkwardly, his boots scuffing lightly against the polished floor as he lingered near the door. He had never so casually entered a woman’s room before, and the intimacy of it caught him off guard. His world was one of dirt and danger, rough edges and fleeting comforts. Here, in this quiet, cozy room, he felt like an intruder in a place far too refined for someone like him.

“It’s... uh, real nice,” he mumbled, his voice low as his fingers toyed nervously with the brim of his hat. His eyes flitted to the soft throw draped over the chair, the pastel tones of the walls, the delicate lace curtains framing the window. He couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. It was a glimpse into a life he could only dream of, a life so far removed from the rugged chaos he was used to.

You laughed softly, your voice breaking the quiet spell. "It’s just a room, Arthur. You can come in properly, y’know. I don't have a pet snake here or something that's gonna jump on you. Well, I do have a cat, Suki, I'll introduce you to her too."

He glanced at you, a faint flush creeping up his neck."Didn’t mean to...well, just never been in a...in a lady’s room before. Feels kinda...uh, different."

You grinned, leaning casually against the desk. "Awkward? Mhm. I can understand." you teased, watching his unease grow in the way he avoided looking directly at you.

Arthur chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe a little…but it’s nice. Real nice. It’s refreshing. Seein’ how you live, all the pretty colors and…just feels peaceful.

There was something almost boyish about the way he avoided meeting your eyes for too long, his shyness making him look as though he were caught somewhere he shouldn’t be. His eyes wandered again, lingering on the colors, the soft curtains swaying in the breeze, and the little personal touches, things he wouldn’t have noticed in passing but now couldn’t seem to look away from. It wasn’t just a room; it was a glimpse into your world, one he found himself inexplicably drawn to.

“Real beautiful though” he added, his voice a little gruffer, as if trying to mask the sincerity behind his words.

Just like you.

As you gave him your usual fast-paced rundown, commenting on the things you loved most, Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle softly. You hadn’t changed much since he last saw you, just as animated as he remembered.

He stood by the window, watching the light play across the room. “You’ve got a nice place,” he remarked quietly, turning to look at you as you animatedly continued your tour.

You gave him a cheeky grin. “Well, someone has to live the high life, right?”

Arthur smiled softly, the gap between your worlds feeling just a little smaller, a little less daunting. He was beginning to realize that maybe you hadn't changed as much as he'd thought. The girl he remembered from the camp, the one who'd walked into his life and captured his attention, was still there, but now surrounded by all of this...comfort, privilege, and light. A world that felt so far from his own. Yet, here he was, standing in the middle of it, feeling like maybe, just maybe, he could fit into your life again.

"Oh, my apologies, I didn’t even offer you any refreshments! Let’s go eat lunch in the garden. And while we’re at it, you have to tell me stories of what you've been doing all these years, alright?"

"Alright, alright. You are too kind."

He shared stories of the gang, of the jobs (he chose to tell about the less gory ones in fear of your reaction and didn’t want you to listen to his darker deeds), and of the things he had seen. You listened intently, your laughter filling the air when he mimicked some of the gang members' eccentricities. The sound of your familiar voice made his heart feel light, even if it was brief. Suki purred softly in his lap, his fingers instinctively stroking her fur as he listened to you speak. The knowledge you shared astounded him, whether it was answering business queries with sharp wit or the rise and fall of empires. you seemed to hold a wealth of understanding that captivated him.

But as the lunch came to an end and the moment of departure loomed closer, a quiet thought began to settle in his chest, heavier than any of the words exchanged between you both. When your mother came by to check on the two of you, everything seemed... easy. She was warm, welcoming even, in a way that made Arthur feel comfortable, almost at home. He expected some resistance, or at least for her to be a little wary of him, an outlaw, being here with her unmarried daughter nonetheless...maybe she's just good at hiding it.

Your mother’s voice interrupted the quiet moment as she stepped outside, her tone light but loaded with something Arthur couldn’t place. "Thank you, Arthur. It’s been good to see you again."

Arthur nodded, about to say something polite when your mother’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

"You know, it’s nice that (Y/N) has someone like you as a friend. She talked about you all so fondly and missed you guys. I always hoped she’d have someone like a brother in her life."

Arthur’s heart sank, the words cutting through the air like a sudden chill. He tried to mask the shift in his expression, tried to keep the smile on his face, but the cold truth settled heavily in his chest.

You , she, saw him as just a friend, someone like a brother, just another part of the past. And when you agreed with your mother’s sentiment, confirming it with your usual lighthearted chuckle and nod, something inside him broke.

He had convinced himself, for a moment, that maybe there was more to this reunion than just memories. Maybe there was something between the two of you, something that had never quite been given a chance before, something he could explore now, in this new life. But it wasn’t like that. Not at all. You were still the girl from the camp, the one who had felt lost and scared, but now you were a woman with your own life, your own world, and Arthur was just a piece of that world, a passing memory that would never be more than that.

The realization stung. It hurt more than he cared to admit.

"Take care, Arthur," you said, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you watched him. "It was really good to see you again. And you can send a letter anytime you want. I would love to chat and hear your stories."

Arthur paused, his hand on the reins, a lump forming in his throat at your words. It wasn’t the farewell he had imagined, nor the one he’d hoped for.

Send a letter anytime you want.

The kindness in your voice, the way you spoke so naturally, as if this was just a casual goodbye between old friends, felt like both a balm and a wound.

He took a deep breath, willing himself to keep his composure. A letter. It should have been enough, he told himself. It should have been. But it wasn't.

He turned back toward you, the distance between you suddenly feeling impossibly wide. He wanted to say something---anything---to ease the weight of the moment, but the words caught in his throat.

Instead, he tipped his hat to you, giving you a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I- I will. Take care, (Y/N)."

Just like with Mary...

The thought lingered, gnawing at him as the miles stretched out between him and your home. He had convinced himself that it would be different. That you were different. But he had been wrong.

The way your family had treated him, with that polite kindness, it had all felt so genuine, so warm. But now, with the weight of your casual farewell still heavy on his heart, Arthur realized it wasn’t warmth for him. It was warmth for the person they saw him as.

He had imagined so many different scenarios in his head, each one more foolish than the last, each one filled with hope he should have known better than to entertain. He wasn’t fool enough to believe there could be more between you two, not now, not ever.

With a bitter chuckle, Arthur let his horse trot faster, trying to outrun the feeling settling in his chest.

Just like with Mary.

The damn haunting comparison. But this one felt worse. Mary had been a distant dream, someone whose absence was long understood, a love that was never truly his, to begin with. But you... you were real. You were there, so close, yet just....out of reach. Your kindness, your warmth, your family’s welcoming nature, it had made him believe for a moment that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the same old Arthur Morgan to you. He felt accepted...but he had been wrong. Maybe your parents were just nice to him out of fear and gratitude...and harbored the same resentment behind closed doors. Perhaps...you too? No...no you are not fake, he can tell that for sure. Right? You trust him...he sees it in your gentle eyes. Those beautiful eyes...

❀˖°

The evening was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. You were curled up in the armchair by the window, a book open in your lap, the golden lamplight casting a cozy glow over the room. The story had drawn you in, its words painting vivid pictures in your mind, though the sound of your mother’s sewing needle punctuated the quiet like a gentle metronome.

“Darling,” your mother said, her voice cutting softly through the silence. She didn’t look up from her work, but you felt her gaze flicker in your direction.

“Hm?”

“About earlier, Arthur’s visit.”

The mention of his name drew you out of the book. You glanced up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm? What about it, Mama?”

She set her sewing aside and folded her hands neatly in her lap, a gesture that told you she was about to say something serious. “It’s not… proper, you know. A man visiting when your father isn’t home. Especially someone like him. You shouldn't have dragged him inside like that...and given him a tour. Use your senses dear.

You frowned, closing your book but keeping your finger tucked inside to save your place. “He wasn’t here long, and it wasn’t like that. He’s just… Arthur. He won't do something heinous like that. He's like a brother. You said so yourself."

“Arthur or not,” she continued, her voice calm but firm, “a young woman inviting...a man, much less an outlaw into her home, without her father here, will have people talking. And not kindly. I swear you are too naive at times. And the reason I said it , well, it was to make things clear. You understand?"

You looked down at the book, the words blurring on the page. "How can you even suggest me and him--God, look --I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, Mama. He’s kind of my friend, and I didn’t think it’d be right to send him away.”

“I’m not questioning his or your kindness, sweetheart. I’m questioning the situation. You’re a young lady now. People notice things, and they talk. Even if we live in a bit secluded area, there are still eyes. Our own servants for God's sake, dear. And having a man like him visiting when your father’s away… it just doesn’t look right. Also letters? I don't like the sound of that all. You better not respond."

You swallowed the knot forming in your throat and decided to ignore the comment about the letters, at least for now.

“Arthur didn’t mean anything by it. He just wanted to check in, that’s all. And I didn’t mean to drag him in, I just… didn’t think it was wrong. I mean I told you how they live...I just thought him being here would give him temporary comfort...y'know."

Her gaze softened slightly at your sincerity, but her concern didn’t waver. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. But next time, think twice. The world isn’t as forgiving as you might hope. And with a man like Arthur… well, his profession might bring more trouble than you realize. Be careful alright?"

You folded your hands in your lap, unsure how to respond. “I’ll be careful, Mama,” you murmured finally.

She nodded, though the worry in her eyes remained. “I just want what’s best for you, darling. That’s all. Also some reports just arrived from the office so why don't you go and check them. I had them put in your study."

“Right,” you replied, rising to your feet and stretching. “I’ll have some tea and snacks sent for.”

"Right away, darling."

❀˖°

Despite the sting of reality, Arthur couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t entirely silence the part of him that longed for more, more of you, more of the conversations, the stories, the friendship that had begun to feel like something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to admit to himself.

He started writing letters, even though he told himself he wouldn’t. At first, it was simple. A few words to pass the time. His handwriting was rough, not elegant like the letters of men who had been raised with the luxury of formal education. But somehow, it didn’t matter. He wrote about the mundane things that filled his days, the gang’s latest escapades, the horses he had worked with, and even the weather. He wrote about how much the work had been piling up, how his days felt long and endless. He wrote because, in some twisted way, it felt like he could still stay close to you, even if only in ink and paper.

He never expected a response, but he received one all the same.

A week later, came a simple reply, neatly written, not too long but full of warmth. You told him about your life, your family's health, and the weather at your home. You mentioned the garden, the books you’d been reading, and the gentle rhythm of your everyday life. Even sent gifts, not just for him but for others too, which he felt a bit spineless to accept but did so to not make you sad. He did love the coat. There were no big confessions, no declarations of longing.

Then, every Sunday became your day, a ritual of sorts. You would meet in a little café if both of you were free, which he tried his best to be, tucked away on the edge of town. A neutral place, quiet enough for conversation, warm enough to forget the world outside for just a few hours. Just eating and walking around the town really did more than he imagined. The peace...the comforting silence...your presence and most importantly the acceptance he felt.

The first meeting had been hesitant, a little awkward even. Arthur wasn’t used to sitting down with someone in such a relaxed setting, too used to the harshness of life in the gang, too used to avoiding anything that could resemble softness. But when you greeted him with that smile, with your gentle words, something inside him shifted. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He began to crave the day. It felt like the beginning of something. Something fragile, something fleeting, but something nonetheless. If this damned friendship is all he gonna get, he might just live in the moment for now...

Arthur sat across from you, nursing his tea, while you picked at the slice of cake he’d ordered for you.

“Go on, eat it,” Arthur said, his tone gruff but amused as he watched you push the fork around the plate. “It’s not going to bite you.”

You shot him a glare, not at all deterred. “Yeah...I just...I’m just not that hungry y'know, I think I had a heavy breakfast,” you muttered, not looking up from your cake, still taking small nibbles rather than finishing the whole thing.

Arthur let out a huff, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve been at it for ten minutes now. The cake’s gonna go stale if you keep that up. You better eat it."

“It’s my cake, I’ll eat it when I feel like it.”

His lips quirked up slightly, though his gaze remained firm. “You’re actin’ like a child. It’s cake, not poison. Trust me, you’ll feel better once you’ve had it.”

“Pft. Right, right. You act as if you know everything.”

“It’s called common sense. Something you might want to try now and then.”

"Yeah well, I can perhaps get a bad stomach too, dumbass."

You made a face but finally picked up the fork and took a bigger bite, much to his satisfaction. "Mhm. Yum." Then your eyes lit up mischievously as a thought crossed your mind.

"Arthurrrrr, so you’re… what? In your late twenties, now? And still no girl in your life? That can’t be right." Your grin widened as you teased him. "Surely you’ve found someone by now. Or is there a special someone I don’t know about?"

Arthur froze for a moment, his hand hovering over his mug, and you caught the flicker of unease that passed over his face. He quickly recovered, though, leaning back in his chair with a slight scowl. "You think I’m just waitin’ around for some...woman to fall into my lap?"

You snickered, tapping the fork against your plate thoughtfully. "Well, I don’t know. You’ve never really said anything about anyone," you said, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. "You must’ve had a few crushes over the years, huh? Someone in the gang’s kept you company while you’re off doin’ your thing."

"Maybe.." he muttered, taking a slow sip of his tea. "But I don’t need you makin’ jokes about it."

Your grin only grew wider, leaning forward just a little. "Oh, come on, Arthur. If I won't then who will? Stop being lame. You can’t tell me that no one in your life has caught your eye. You're too... well, you know," you gestured vaguely with your fork, unable to find the right words but clearly referring to his ruggedness and that quiet charm he sometimes tried to hide.

He snorted, shaking his head. "I'm not exactly the type most women want to be around. Not with all the trouble I got goin’ on in my life."

"Well. Mhm, true. But. I’ve seen the way you care for your horses. That’s more than enough of a ‘gentleman’ for some girls, some even I know. All you need is a little push. I’ll give you the perfect match, just wait. Want me to...kickstart your romantic journey, mhmmm?"

He couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know if I want you playing matchmaker. Couldn’t trust your judgment.”

“Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen? At least I’d be picking someone who’d treat you right. Also, I'd have some fun doing it! I did it for a cousin of mine, when I was like 18 and he's still grateful to me for finding him the perfect match. They are both so happy. HAHA! So take that."

Arthur chuckled, the moment's warmth easing the tension in his chest, even as something else, a strange ache, settled there. Why can't it be you then? He wanted to say but.... He pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the quiet joy of your company. Whatever it was, it was worth savoring for now.

Arthur finally broke the silence with a half-smile, leaning back in his chair once more. "Yeah, well, maybe. But for now, I’ll take my cake. And you’re too gonna finish that."

He hesitated for a moment before asking, his voice quieter. “What about you? You… got someone?” His grip tightened around the saucer in his lap, betraying his casual tone.

“Me?” You scoffed, almost offended by the mere thought. “Nah. I’m perfectly content with life, helping my parents with the business, going out with friends… and, of course, Suki." You petted the cat perched on the seat beside yours, causing the golden fluffball to purr."Don’t need anything or anyone else. My parents might have other ideas, though. Y'know, the usual talk about ‘finding a companion to grow old with’, all that sentimental crap. But you know what game I play with them?

Arthur raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite pushing the pang of jealousy aside. “Yeah? What? First off, finish laughing before you talk.”

His lips twitched as he watched your laughter bubble over, infectious as always. God, he loved the sound of it.

“Well...sometimes I let them think I’m ready. You know, like I’m open to meeting someone. So they get all excited and invite someone over for one of those discussions…”

Arthur tilted his head, already bracing for the punchline.

“And then I reject them. Every. Single. Time.”

Arthur couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, shaking his head. “That’s downright cruel, you know.”

“Cruel?” you repeated with mock offense, leaning forward. “They’ll survive. It's a fun way to pass time you know. Besides, it keeps my parents off my back though. But I don't know for how long....”

How long....

How long....

Forget it Arthur, just get the thought of it out of your head.

Though he knew, it was easier said than done...

❀˖°

And just like that, a quiet, peaceful year passed, marked by letters and rare, cherished meetings. Arthur had moved farther from where you lived, making those moments together even more fleeting but no less meaningful.

But when the day of your usual meeting came again, you didn’t show. Arthur sat by the window in the café, watching the street for any sign of you. As the minutes stretched into hours, he tried to stay calm, telling himself you were likely sick or busy. He just hoped you were alright.

When you finally met again a few weeks later, Arthur couldn’t hold back. “You okay?” he asked, his tone casual but his blue eyes serious. “I mean, you missed our last meetin’, and your letters… They’ve been fewer.”

You smiled, but it was different now, thinner, softer. “Oh, I’ve just been busy with work and family,” you said lightly, waving a hand as though to brush his concern aside. “Nothing to worry about.”

Something was off.

What are you hiding from me?

He wouldn’t let this go. Not when it came to you.

Arthur nodded, but the unease stayed with him. Something about you was different, something he couldn’t quite name. You spoke less, and though your smile lingered, it didn’t carry the same warmth. And your laugh, he’d always loved your laugh, was quieter, restrained, to not draw attention.

Then there was the chaperone. Arthur noticed the older woman sitting nearby, her sharp gaze darting to the two of you now and then. You’d always come alone before, laughing off the need for an escort, but now she was here, a quiet, rigid presence that spoke volumes.

And it wasn’t just her. Arthur’s sharp eyes caught other subtle changes. Your gloves were gone, your hands bare even in the crisp autumn chill. He’d heard somewhere that unmarried women in polite society were expected to wear gloves when out in public. Then there was how you wore your shawl, which you always adjusted modestly as if to conform to someone else’s propriety.

But what struck him most was the absence of your laughter. The way your spirit seemed subdued. As if something, or someone, was pulling you further away.

“You sure it’s just work keepin’ you busy?”

“Of course. Just a lot going on, that’s all.”

Every small, unspoken detail gnawed at him. The chaperone. The clothes. The gloves. You hadn’t said anything, but your silence screamed louder than words. You talked less than usual, your words measured and cautious, lacking the easy rhythm he’d come to know.

Arthur’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but something was wrong. You weren’t just hiding something....you were slipping away.

So, instead, he did what he was best at, watching, waiting, and gathering the truth without words. He’d heard whispers about a function at your estate, a gathering.

The shadows were his allies as he lingered at the edges of the grand manor. The soft glow of lanterns and the gentle hum of conversation drifted through the night, and there you were, standing in the center of it all, radiant in a way that both drew him closer and crushed him inside.

Then he saw him.

The man by your side. The one who stood too close dared to touch your arm and waist as if it was his right. Arthur’s eyes locked onto the ring, glinting on your finger, catching the light like a cruel, deliberate taunt.

His chest tightened, his breath hitched. The air felt heavier, colder. His worst fear had materialized before him, and yet he couldn’t look away.

The man smiled at you, and you smiled back, polite and radiant enough to send a wave of heat through his veins, a fire that burned hotter with every passing second.

The gardener, a man with a weathered face and rough hands, had just stubbed out his cigarette, the glow of the ember fading into the night. He turned to head inside the gates, but before he could take another step, a firm hand shot out from the shadows. The gardener’s back slammed against the stone wall with a grunt, his breath knocked out of him.

Arthur’s face was inches from his now, his cold blue eyes burning with a fierce intensity.

“You know about the marriage,” Arthur growled, his voice low but dripping with menace. “When? Hm?”

The gardener blinked rapidly, panic flickering across his face as he stammered, his words tripping over each other. “I-I... I didn’t mean- I--don’t--don’t know anythin’ about no marriage…you can't do this-"

He shoved the gardener harder against the wall, his voice growing more dangerous with every syllable. That's when the man felt a cold metal touch the side of his stomach and when he saw it, he nearly had a heart attack. “Tell. Me. The. Fucking. Date. When is it? When is she marrying him?”

The gardener's face turned pale as he struggled to find his voice, his eyes darting nervously around as if looking for an escape. His breath ragged as he stammered, “It--it’s... next month. The fifth. H-here...at the estate.. that's all I k-know-"

Arthur released the gardener with one final shove, sending him stumbling back a few steps. His gaze remained icy, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“You better keep your mouth shut,” he warned, his voice deadly calm now. The gardener nodded frantically, swallowing hard as Arthur turned away, his mind racing.

Fifth.

Arthur sat in the dim light of his tent, the revolver spinning slowly between his fingers as his thoughts churned in relentless, punishing circles. Outside, the camp buzzed with life, the crackle of the fire, the faint strains of a harmonica, the murmur of laughter. It all grated on him, every sound digging deeper into the raw wound festering inside his chest.

He knew this would happen. He’d always known. You weren’t his to lose, not really. People like you didn’t end up with men like him, men who carried blood on their hands, who belonged to a world of running and killing and stealing just to survive. He should’ve been prepared. He thought he’d been prepared. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

It felt like a betrayal. Like some unspoken promise had been broken. But no, there was no promise. That was the sick part of it. You’d smiled at him, written him letters, laughed with him, and somewhere along the way, he’d let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could keep you. That you could be something different. Someone who wouldn’t leave. But now…

Now, you were slipping away, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

His grip on the revolver tightened as memories of Mary surged up, unbidden and cruel. Her soft voice echoed in his head, her face painted in regret. "It’s not you, Arthur. It’s just… my life. It’s not the life you lead."

He’d tried to believe her back then, to take her words at face value. But deep down, they’d festered like an open wound. What if it was him? What if it was always him, his life, his choices, his very existence, that made people leave?

The laughter outside grew louder, Dutch’s booming voice cutting through the night. Arthur’s gaze flicked to the tent flap, to the flickering shadows of the others moving in the firelight. Dutch, carefree as ever, with Molly by his side. Dutch always had someone. Dutch always had a plan. And Arthur? Arthur had nothing. He was nothing.

Why is he mad?

Fucking why?

This was what he expected, wasn’t it? The inevitable. The part where you, the one thing he couldn’t let go of, moved on and married another man. He knew you’d do it, he’d always known. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from showing up every damn time, shaved and clean, trying to look better than he felt, holding onto some pathetic sliver of hope. As if you’d suddenly look at him and say, "Let’s run away" or, "Y’know what, Arthur? I think I want to live with the gang. With you..." The idea was ridiculous, but it had kept him going.

But now that it had happened… why did it feel so fucking wrong? Why was his chest tightening with rage that felt almost like betrayal?

Because it happened a second time, that’s why. His own mind was a whirlwind of confusion, torn between the brutal truth of his life, running, looting, killing, and the desperate, hollow yearning inside him. Was this all he was? Was this what he deserved? The endless violence, the life without peace? He couldn’t even stomach the thought of it anymore.

And because he thought, no, he hoped, you might’ve been different. That you’d be the exception to the pain. Almost like compensation for what he’d endured with Mary. A balm to soothe the wounds she’d left behind. Almost as if fate owed him this one kindness, this gift...

"Is something wrong with...me?" The question tore through his mind, louder than the laughter, louder than the harmonica, louder than the blood pounding in his ears. It clawed at him, relentless and merciless. Why couldn’t he hold on to anything? Why couldn’t he have even a sliver of peace? A family? A future?

The world outside continued without him, Dutch and Molly spinning around in their reckless dance, but Arthur felt a chasm of isolation opening between him and everyone else. His heart thundered in his chest, the silence suffocating.

He replayed the vision of you and your man. A respectable man that wasn't him. His chest burned. It wasn’t just jealousy, not entirely. It was something darker, something heavier. Something that made him slam the revolver on the table.

Take it then.

Take her then.

Arthur froze, shocked at his own brain for voicing that out. He knew what it meant. He’d heard it before, and discussed it with you, in the past.

The Word.

He had dismissed it then, condemned it as if it were beneath him. You had both laughed about it, saying it was barbaric, unfair and a criminal practice. But now? Now, the idea didn’t sound so foreign.

Do the word.

Do it.

People still do it.

Why do you always gotta suffer? Get played like a fiddle?

Man up.

The voice inside him urged, persistent and dark, pulling at something primal in his gut. Why did it feel so right, so necessary, now? Why did the thought of it no longer seem like madness but like the only thing that made sense in this Godforsaken world?

Why didn’t it sound so bad now?

Arthur’s grip on the revolver tightened, his thoughts swirling into dangerous territory. The thought of you slipping away from him, and marrying another man, of losing you forever, made his blood run cold. But if he.....could make you his by this brutal, tradition, would he finally have peace? Would that give him the warmth he so desperately needed?

★ Next

─AN: To be in this fic's tag list, u can always comment below. The comments are always appreciated ^_^

[bella-goths-wife]

What is the nicest thing the Bowers gang has done to ballerina reader?

The nicest things yandere bowers gang have done for ballerina reader

Warnings: physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation, violence, sexual abuse, mental illness (unspecified), stick and poke tattooing, pregnancy mentions, self harm, eating disorders

I do not In any way intend to glamourise or romanticise any of the themes mentioned. I write about them purely for entertainment and educational purposes. Please do not see these actions as normalised and seek to replicate the actions or relationships

Henry:

Henry does care about you, in his own sick and twisted way

But he does care about you and in his own way he does love you

He lets it show in the rarest of ways, and only on special occasions

And while he’s an abusive and selfish bastard, he’s also observant to a T

He notices small things about you that he’d never repeat to anyone that he noticed

He notices what your favourite flavour of something is or what your favourite song is when he looks in your eyes and notices them dilate

He may be the one who knows you the most because of how insnared he is in your life

And he will always notice when something is wrong with you, except from the usual reasons

You’re spending longer hours at the ballet studio, even when he warns you and punished you multiple times for it

But you even offered for them to come with you to the ballet studio and watch you if that’s they needed to do

You allowed them into your sanctuary, something you had fought against so vehemently before

You claimed that you had to keep going, that you had to be perfect

Henry assumed that you’d just gone into one of your moods, so he humoured you and spent time in the ballet studio with you instead of forcing you home

He watched as you forced yourself through dances, he watched you sweat and pant and work through your part so aggressively that you were coming off as more of a mad queen then a graceful swan

He watched in curiosity as your feet bled, your legs twisted, your back contorted and your bones creaked like an old cellar door

Blood leaked out of your ballet shoes and caused droplets to gather on the floor beneath you as you pirouetted through the pain

Henry decided it was time to call it quits when he called to you but you ignored him, something you never did as you continue to dance even after he turned off the music

Henry called again and again before walking towards you and grabbing your arms firmly but you fought back desperately, surprising Henry with the wild look in your eyes

Your usually dead eyes and crushed spirit were alive but not in a way that signified life but in a way that showed forced reincarnation

Henry shook you and demanded you to stop but you just screamed and cried that you couldn’t

You hysterically ranted that you had to be perfect, you had to be better than everyone, you had to be the best

You cried over how a girl who had recently moved to Derry had outshined you in your classes, it didn’t matter in your head that she was years older than you, you had always been the best and you can’t be replaced

Ballet was the only thing you had control over, the only thing you held power in by being the best there is, the only escape from the torment of the bowers gang and their cruel antics

And someone had taken over your sanctuary

Henry, confused on how to comfort you, just held you until you had cried yourself into exhaustion

He took you to your home and cared for the wounds on your body as you laid there half asleep, just like you had done for him so many times

He left you to sleep as he thought about what to do next

He couldn’t have you continuing on this path, you’d self destruct before he’d even have a chance for his plans of marrying you and popping out kids

He couldn’t have a mad woman for a wife, he needed his pretty little ballerina back to dance when he turned the music box key

He stalked the girl you had talked about for a few days before finding a good opportunity

He decided it was time to call the other boys, knowing he’d need their help

He ambushed her dressed in a black Halloween mask before tying her to a tree

He grabbed a sledgehammer from belch’s care and brought it down harshly on the girls ankles and knees, ensuring she’d never dance again

He left the girl tied up and he and the bowers gang decided that whatever happens to the girl happens, none of them would lose sleep over it

That night he crawled into your bed with your asleep figure, moving your head to lay on his chest as he caressed your face with a gentleness that was foreign to him

He decided he wouldn’t tell you when he noticed how your spirit had improved since the girl had stopped dancing, knowing the information would only make you believe in silly notions of guilt

And he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, he did it for himself and not for you

That’s what he told himself anyway

Vic criss:

Vic had punished you pretty badly one time, he had given you burns up your thigh that had sent you to the doctor for pain killers

This small ‘hiccup’ has made it so you couldn’t dance for two weeks, a prospect that made you sob in the hospital bed and refuse to eat for two days

And that’s when vic noticed that he had unfairly punished, he assumed you had snuck out alone but Patrick later revealed that he had taken you out for the night

That realisation had filled vic with an unfamiliar sense of guilt and remorse as he looked at your sunken in features and the bandages around your thigh

He volunteered to be the one to take care of you after the doctor visit, knowing being on the pain medication would leave you out of it most of the time

He helped you bathe, forced you to eat and drink, helped you change bandages and entertained you with a unique gentleness you hadn’t felt in a while

But even that didn’t stop the constant worried looks you’d give him, wouldn’t stop the fear that you held for him

He wasn’t used to being the most feared, that spot usually reserved for Henry or Patrick, he was used to being one of the ‘better’ ones who you’d reach to to avoid spending time with the ‘worse’ ones

He begged your drugged up state for forgiveness and the state had made you honest as you spewed venom about him never feeling the pain he inflicted on you

That gave victor an idea

He sat you down in your medicated state down beside him one day and showed you his tools

He had confided in you that he had a fear of needles ever since he was a child, but that he wanted to repay you for the pain he caused

He wanted you to stick and poke a tattoo of your choosing onto his shoulder, and he would sit still, endure the pain and never tell the others who had done it to ensure you never received a punishment

Your drugged up mind didn’t even hesitate at a chance to hurt your abuser, picking up the tools you needed

Five long hours victor sat still as a statue and endured his fear and pain while you worked on his shoulder before you finally finished

You had passed out pretty much instantly as you laid back on the couch and victor didn’t have time to look at his newest tattoo before shoving his shirt on and helping you to bed

Part of him even secretly hoped it would become infected so he could show you how much pain he’d endure for your forgiveness

Once you were in bed, victor removed his shirt and readied himself for whatever was on his body forever

He expected something crude or something humiliation but to his surprise he found when he lifted his shirt, a small swan

A darkened thought entered his mind at the sight of it

You had marked him just like he’d marked you

The dark part of Victor liked that

Patrick hockstetter:

Patrick loved your body

Well, loved is a loose term when it comes to a psychopath

A more suitable description would be that your body sexually satisfied Patrick greatly

You had the perfect figure in Patrick’s eyes

And when that figure started changing, it upset Patrick greatly

One of the workers at the ballet studio had made a few crude comments on your figure, and that had sent you into a frenzy

It was a pattern you had followed since you were small, someone makes a comment and your do anything in your power to make it untrue

Someone claims your too big, you’ll do anything to show them your not

Your methods however were extreme to a worrying extent

You wouldn’t eat for days and when you did youd throw it all up or use laxatives to make sure you couldn’t gain anything from it

It had caused extreme changes to your body, your once healthy figure had become malnourished

A change that Patrick did not like, finding you much less attractive

As I’ve stated multiple times, Patrick’s obsession is rooted to his sexual attraction to you and it angers him greatly when someone changes you

You were his plaything and if you weren’t pretty anymore, well that just looks bad for him

He sat with you every mealtime for weeks and forced the food down your throat but he recognised he could only do so much, the minute he stopped youd go back to your destructive ways

So Patrick decided that he’d get rid of the root of the problem

Disposing of a body was easy to him and the others by now, digging a shallow grave in the junkyard for the nameless worker of the ballet studio who had insulted you

Without the insults present you eventually started to eat properly again with ‘encouragement’ from the boys and slowly you gained your figure back

This pleased Patrick greatly and he made sure to make you repay him for his act of kindness, despite never telling you what you were repaying him for

Even Patrick’s acts of kindness revolved because of his selfish desires

What did you expect?

Belch Huggins:

Belch had always been the sweetest to you, always treating you gently unless commanded otherwise

That’s why you had felt comfortable enough to confide in him that you had done something very bad

You had hurt someone, very badly

A girl from your school who had harassed you daily whenever the boys weren’t around you

She had followed you on your trek down to the lake, calling you all sorts of names and pushing you around

As if you didn’t face enough abuse in your life, she added to it with her cruelty and something snapped in you

She had gotten in your face, eerily similar to how Henry had many times

When she had gone to grab you, it brought back memories of Henry’s abuse and fear filled your body

In an act of fight or flight, you had given her a firm push

She had fallen down the hill and hit her head on a rock, laying unconscious as you stared in horror

You had called belch in a frenzy, rambling on about what you had done and how much trouble it would get you in, there’s no one who would let a criminal be a ballerina

Belch drove to you immediately and held you once he saw you, listening to your explanation of what happened

He checked the girls pulse and found out she was still alive, and in that moment he made a decision

He couldn’t have you going away, his little ballerina who had such high hopes for her future wouldn’t survive in a juvenile facility, they’d eat you alive without a second thought

Him on the other hand? He was built to survive with his large build and strength, and who would the police believe is more likely to have committed a crime

A pretty little ballerina with no previous record, or the big brute with many accusations and charged on his record?

He commanded you to go home and gave you a final kiss on the forehead before sending you off

He ran to the pay phone and called for an ambulance who took the girl off to hospital, and when the police questioned him on who did it he admitted false guilt to spare you the blame

The girl had a slight concussion and her memory of the crime was distorted, so she couldn’t deny his presence which was enough for him to be arrested

His father found him a good lawyer with his copious amount of money and the lawyer managed to get belch away with only three month of juvie and six months probation

He went down for your crimes and he did it happily

When the other boys asked him why he did it, he simply told them that the girl had pushed him too far and shot you a look

He came out of juvie just fine and fit into his routine quite happily when he saw you at his side again

He never told anyone about what really happened, not even the others

He knew they would blame you for his temporary imprisonment but why should they? You were his goddess, why shouldn’t he make sure no one could besmirch your name and defend your honour

He kept your secret happily as he held you close to him in your bed

What’s one more secret between him and his goddess?

Thoughts? :)

[baby-tini]

I just know kanto Mikey says the meanest shit in bed 😞

You're not too off, here are things that Multiple!Mikeys would say to you in bed~

Toman!Mikey- -"Mm mm, say it again... go on, you could say it once, so you can say it again."

-"It feels that good that it has you crying, huh baby?"

-"Inside where, baby? Inside what? You have too tell me where you want me too put my fingers, can you do that for me?"

-"That's it baby, ride it just like that... mhm, move your hips just like that."

-"Don't push me away, you can take it, you've done it before."

Manila!Mikey- -"Keep talking to me like that, and I'll really give you something too scream about."

-"Say thank you. Say, "thank you for discipling me Manjiro.""

-"What happened to that smartass attitude, huh? Where'd that go?"

-"You really gonna roll your eyes at me? Ok... get your ass over here."

-"Please do, please give me a reason too bruise that pretty little ass, go on."

Kanto!Mikey- -"What have I told you about that whining shit?"

-"Maybe I should just leave you here, and let you think about how disrespectful you've been."

-"Ask me nicely for what you want angel."

-"When you decide too behave, then you can speak."

-"No, none of that "mm mm" "mhm" shit. Speak."

Bonten!Mikey- -"Open, let me see... good, now swallow."

-"Now you're behaving? You only apologize when your face is pressed against my desk, huh?"

-"Answer me princess, I want you too tell me why I should let you cum right now."

-"You gonna put on a show for my executives sweetheart, yeah?"

-"You obviously don't wanna cum that bad if you can't say please angel."

Racer!Mikey- -"Look at my pretty baby, you're just so impatient, huh?"

-"Don't act all shy now, princess, say please."

-"You're so eager too taste yourself, huh baby?... Yeah? Now you know how I feel."

-"C'mere baby, come ride my tongue."

-"All you had too do was ask baby, you don't need too tug at my hand pretty girl."

[banj0possum]

Do you think the Yan gang are more akin to dogs or cats?

🐉 Either is good!! Actually theres a bunch of stray cats and dogs by the building their gang usually hangs out in.

🐉 They try to befriend them by leaving out food and such but nothing really works.

🐉 They get really defensive and intimidating when someone starts messing with any of them, whether that animal has warmed up to them or not.

🐉 Kagiri wants to train the dogs to follow orders like guard dogs but when they try to teach them tricks they just end up playing with them.

🐉 Kagiri has settled on having a guard cat named Kororo. He's very fierce and good at his job.

🐉 Kagiri rewards him with cat nip every day

[sk3tch404]

Normalize drawing what u enjoy

This is canonically how he got into photography /j

Am I blanchin girl we blanchin, I live up Inna mansion 💃💞🗣

[seventiesweetheart]

ANY PATRICK HOCKSTETTER OR VANCE HOPPER FLUFF IMAGINE PLEASE

𓆩♱𓆪 ghost boy.

obsessed! patrick hockstetter x fem! childhood best friend! reader

WARNING. none much, this is purely fluff! but patrick is a teeny tiny bit of a yandere for reader.

A/N. haven’t written in while because of school but thank you so much for the 300 likes on my rafe fic! it warms my heart seeing people repost it sm <3 anyway, i know i’m really late but hope you like this, anon! might make a vance one soon :>

the summer sun beat down on derry, its warmth failing to melt the cool indifference that patrick hockstetter felt towards the world around him. leaning against the graffitied wall of the abandoned factory, he watched the town's inhabitants with a sneer. they were all predictable, annoying, and utterly boring.

all except for y/n.

a smile tugged at his lips as he saw the girl approaching, her hair catching the light of the sun in a way that made his heart stutter. every one else perceived patrick as a mystery, just another one of henry’s best friends which fully meant he was not one to be messed with. but to y/n, he was her best friend since childhood.

"hey, patrick!" she called, her voice bright and cheerful, piercing through the monotonous hum of the town. she jogged up to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "you won't believe what i found today."

he watched her intently, his gaze suddenly softening. "what is it?" he asked, his voice low and only slightly gruff.

y/n pulled out an old, worn book from her (fav color) backpack. "look at this! i found it in the library. it's full of so many creepy stories about derry. thought you might like it."

patrick took the book from her, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. he felt a jolt of electricity at the contact, but the girl was too oblivious, her attention already shifting to something else.

"thanks," he murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. she was always doing things like this—thinking of him, bringing him things she knew he'd appreciate. it was part of why he liked her so much, part of why his feelings for her had morphed into something deeper, something a bit more obsessive.

y/n plopped down on the ground beside him, leaning back on her hands and tilting her face towards the sky. "it's such a nice day. why don’t we do something fun?”

patrick sat down next to her, the book clutched in his hands. he could feel the warmth radiating from her, the smell of her shampoo filling the air. "like what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he caught a whiff of her scent.

she shrugged, her smile widening. "i don't know. maybe we can explore that old house on neibolt street? i’ve heard it's haunted."

patrick's lips curved into the mischievous smirk that y/n has grown all too familiar with. "sounds like a plan," he said, loving the thrill that danced in her eyes. he'd follow her anywhere, even into the deepest parts of a haunted house. anything to keep her close—to keep her as his.

as they stood up and started walking, patrick's mind comtinued to race with thoughts of her. y/n was the only person in this town who made him feel something other than disdain. she was the light in his otherwise dark world, the only person he could never afford to lose. and though she had no idea, he was determined to keep it that way—at least, for now.

because as long as she didn't know about his little crush, she wouldn't be scared away. and patrick couldn't bear the thought of losing her, his only friend and the only person who made his life in derry so much more bearable.

[silversnakes-yan]

*chanting cheerfully.*

JASON SMUT! JASON SMUT! JASON SMUT! JASON SMUT! JASON SMUT! JASON SMUT!

Just, Jason smut w/ a virgin reader.

-🌺

✲𝓙𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝔀/ 𝓪 𝓿𝓲𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓷 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻✲

Jason definitely already knows you’re inexperienced. He just has a good way of reading people. He won’t jump at just any opportunity to get you squirming underneath him. No, he likes to play with his prey before striking.

He’ll make sly but clearly inappropriate jokes and leave lingering touched that cause your spine to shiver. This can go on for days. He’s patient after all. After you’re all flustered and blushing that’s when he goes in for the kill.

He’ll have you cornered, flushed and practically begging for him to do something. Anything. But Jason’s not the type to give so easily. He wants you to beg and plead. He’ll force you to tell him exactly what you want in explicit detail before his hands snake under your clothes.

Gentle is not a term in his vocabulary. However, he might take it slower if you ask nicely. Expect to be tied down. Jason doesn’t like to be touched. He wants you completely at his mercy. He’ll tease and overstimulate you with his sharp tongue and dexterous fingers until you’re a crying mess.

Once Jason’s sunk into your heat, he’ll give you a moment to adjust but the teasing won’t stop. His pace is rough and unrelenting. When he feels you’re nearly shattering, he’s going harder. The tears on your face from the pleasure cause him to go over the edge. A whiney moan would leave his lips before he realizes. Though, afterwards he’d threaten you to take it to the grave.

Jason wants to make sure that he’s your first and your last. That the memory of him will be imprinted in your mind and on your body. So no one else would dare touch you.

[metranart]

➡️ Draken & Hanma's darling NSFW PART 2 and lots of Tokyo Rev NSFW in HERE!

(Tags include all you can find in my Patreon)

[starzgaze]

Just a though rmb that time u made hae-in and Jinwoo fight for y/n? I just rmbered it randomly and I propose:

Hs Jinwoo and Hae-in both regressing and they're pining for Y/N who used to be a mage/healer/support for them.

Ur local hottest boy in school + The it girl and Track Running champion of another school fighting for y/n's hand

this has been living rent free in my head to the point ive unconsciously drawn it LMAO so art down below if u scrolllll

okay but this concept with an extremely mundane [name]?? hello especially someone who's just trying to get past school with average grades and average effort then maybe with a few volunteering here and there where it's coincidentally being the assistant for the coah in the track and field team.

[name] being known for helping a few people and having an affinity when it comes to patching up people and helping them so volunteer work is just light work for them so they didn't mind as much when the things they do during their time in the track and field team is tossing water to the runners and sometimes fixing them up if they trip or break an ankle. being part of the red cross club last year really helps in these situations.

then [name] meets jinwoo who's the new member in the team and someone who just suddenly transferred to the school, saying it was about his father getting a promotion and they needed to move places.

[name] believes this because everyone has their own situations but it was in fact jinwoo finally finding out what school [name] was in after a few years of trying to search for them then he transferred school, not caring if it's the middle of the school year. of course [name] doesn't know this.

then those two gets closer and jinwoo tries to charm [name] with silly jokes and impressive stamina and speed whenever he's on the field, leaving [name] awe struck. it was obvious to everybody else that the new extremely handsome hotshot of the track and field team had a little thing for the stupidly mundane volunteer who only took the job because they needed something for their community service hours.

just as about this man was gonna ask [name] out the coach of the track and field team announces that now on during after class practices another student from a different school will be attending their training program and blow and behold it's fucking cha hae-in much to jinwoo's dismasy.

hae-in isn't much experienced with this whole regression thing so she's less prepared compared to jinwoo but her persistence and determination just to see her sweet little [name] again what helped her pulled through and landed her here.

hae-in took the program through some connections and begging to her coach to let her train under a different school, claiming it will help her grow and the coach believed her because how can you deny your favourite athlete that's stupidily amazing in the sport? anyway hae-in successfully got into [name]'s school without moving in even if it's not the whole day, seeing [name] was more than enough for her.

that is until she saw her number one rival at the corner, hae-in compares him to a cockroach with how he can't leave her sigh and his sense of fashion that's constantly dark themed. she's low-key pissed that he's here, like just leave her alone and her cutie [name] that's not for him.

[name] spends more time with the two, now hae-in is in the picture. they would help hae-in whenever she would get a sprain and give her tips on what to do to alleviate the pain and get better asap before the regionals or take her out to hang out because it was easier being the same gender. jinwoo is fuminggg at this because it took him like months to do that and for hae-in it took like a measly few weeks?? that's so unfair

suddenly the two get into little competitions with eachother trying to impress [name] and of course they noticed but they don't believe that the two most sought after players in the school or even the region would have a thing for them, they're just good friends.

that drives them insane but it's okay one of them will make you realize it's more than that!! it's just a matter of time and effort you'll be in their arms.

btw imagine after school going out with the two and you guys eat at some street vendor spot then they argue who could pay. they get so distracted with arguing you just pay for yourself as you watch with the street vendor the two fighting.