#you ever get this image in your head of a guy lurking around the guy who saved his life and then think

[pharmasrightarm]

oops, still feral over pre-war Dead End Dratchet

(drift: you're rusting at every joint gasket: but isn't that doctor chummy with the cops? we're literal thieves??)

started with the headcanon that drift hung around the clinic like a feral wet cat for a while, then halfway through shading these, I started thinking, what if deadlock was an especially reliable assassin because he knew what kind of damage would make sure that even the best of the best couldn't bring you back

[hitomisuzuya]

i remember u writing abt hybrid catboy scara and fox childe and im literally in love🤭🤭

catboy scara fluff ur fluff is literally amazinf

Hybrid! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluff fluffy fluff fluff.

I'm really glad you guys enjoy my fluff. I love writing it. I'm not feeling the best so I am sorry if this is shit. I don't want you guys to write me off or abandon me for inactivity 😭

You could feel Scaramouche's cat eyes staring, or rather glaring at you, peeking his little head out just so around corner. He wanted to be close to you while you did chores around the house. But, you know, people sucked. He had an image to uphold.

You turned your head to smile at him. A smile that always took his breath away, be it in his cat or human form. "Come hang out with me while I clean, Scara," You coaxed.

You swore you heard him give his trademark scoff, tinged behind a meow before he darted off around the corner out of sight. You sighed and went about your day.

You decided to try again once you finished cleaning. You knew right where he was, hiding in your room under your bed. "Scara, I'm going to the farmer's market down the road today for some fruit. Do you want to come? We can stop by the grocery store, and get your favorite, expensive cat food."

You saw his eyes staring at you from underneath the bed. You heard a low meow followed by the sound of his stomach growling. Howver, he made no move to come out from under the bed.

You hide a laugh behind your hand, making him glare at you. "Okay, I understand. I'll still pick up cat food and your favorite treats," You left your room, leaving the door open so he could wander the around the house as he liked while you were gone.

Scaramouche came out from under the bed when he heard the front door close. Trotting downstairs, he stared at the front door for a long time. He was being distant and short tempered with you, and you still were being considerate of him.

You were different from other people. He could more than see that. You'd already proved that to him when you'd found him injured. You hadn't dropped him when he clawed at you a little picking him up. You'd bandaged his leg, stayed up reading to him all night and didn't fall asleep until after he did.

He waited right by the front door for you to return, wishing with ever fiber of his being that he had gone with you. Who knows who would be lurking around the corners of the farmer's market or the grocery store, ready to take to you away from him?

"Hi, Scara," You greeted, hearing a soft meow, "you finally came out of hiding. You wanna help me put the groceries away," He trotted into the kitchen behind you, hoping up on the counter to sit with you while you put the groceries away.

"You wanna watch a movie with me after you eat?" You asked, closing the fridge and getting a can of cat food out for him. Scaramouche didn't want to eat first, though.

He just wanted to be with you.

Scaramouche followed you right to the couch, leaving his cat food untouched. You even read the titles outloud to him, scratching him behind his ears and petting him after he settled in your lap. He was just starting to purr softly when he shifted into his human form, sighing contently as he rested his head in your lap.

"Was this what you wanted the whole time, Scara?" You asked, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mhm," He admitted shyly, his cheeks flushing as his ears twitched. After the movie, he slept next to you in his human form, holding you to his chest to keep you warm.

[banggyu0308]

genre: internet strangers to lovers, idol au, smut

warnings: nsfw under the cut, not very coherent, slutty yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sexting, choking kink, pet names (baby), praise, drinking (they don't get THAT drunk, alright guys?), one night stand-ish, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handholding, cursing, dacryphilia, yeonjun lurks on social media TT, reader is bold ASF, not proofread

wc: 2.5k+

an: tysm for the username help @itgirlgyu TT + this is just for the delulus + @beomsl MEL YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE TALKED ABT PART OF THIS???? + i might title this later but who knows!!

taglist: @full-sunnies , @agustdiv1ne

yeonjun who likes to wear his tank tops to show off, loves heading onto moa twitter and tumblr after lives just to see the fandom having a meltdown... especially hard stan social media, watching all the comments and photos of himself show up. he likes being in control like this, having the power to make everyone else go crazy just by wearing something else that day.

he scrolls and scrolls and one specific post pops up, it's community labeled and when he clicks 'keep reading', he can see why; pretty tits on display from the original poster, comments in the tags all about how she's all his, and he's not very surprised to feel himself growing hard in his pants. yeonjun eyes the username, ready to click the blue-fonted 'follow' button, but it's already gone, and his eyes widen to see that it's an account he's been following and interacting with for a while. that fact only makes it better, and he's clicking to his chat with you before he can even think it through what he's about to do.

yawnchoi you look really pretty in that new post...

yn what can i say? yeonjun brings out a special part of me 😭

yawnchoi im very sure he feels the exact same

yn in my dreams 😭 don't fuel my deluluness

yawnchoi i'm being very serious right now

yn mhm mhm sureeee and how would YOU know? 😑

yawnchoi ajksdbwsjdhbw maybe this wasn't a good idea

yn WHAT wasn't a good idea, hm? 🤨

yawnchoi baby all i'm trying to do is figure out how to word that i'm yeonjun 😭

yn i do not believe you for one moment

yawnchoi i'll send a pic that i would never, ever post and you can even reverse image search it or whatever or i could send a video, im not messing around baby

yn go ahead then ;-;

yawnchoi [sent a photo]

yn alright so yeonjun would definitely never post a photo of him in his boxers in bed so imma need that video 🙏

yawnchoi [sent a video]

yn oh. oh holy shit choi yeonjun has seen my tits- NOT ONLY HAS HE SEEN MY TITS HE LIKES THEM- one sec imma need to process haha im totally not hyperventilating haha

yn alright im back hi haha

yawnchoi helloooo 👋

yn wow. alright. so. uh. how do i ask this- you wanna see more tit pics?

yawnchoi THAT WAS SO BOLD HELP ME- but yes pleaseeee

yn [sent a photo]

yawnchoi oh baby- holy shit you're so pretty 🥺

yn thanks jjunie kwsnbdwjkd im still like- going crazy rn yawnchoi thats cute baby :((

yn wjhbswhjdhj so- since you've seen my tits i wanna see you again :(( preferably your dick but haha

yawnchoi yeah? pretty baby wants to see my dick?

yn kjwbshwjdbhe yes please?

yawnchoi asking so nicely... alright baby~ [sent a photo]

yn oh 😳 oh fuck alright sjbdsewjh wanna touch :((

yawnchoi me or yourself, baby?

yn well, both, but only one can happen, right? so me-

yawnchoi go ahead, can i see? yn alright 😳 [sent a video]

yawnchoi baby's so pretty :(( wanna see you cum for me <3

yn [sent a video] would be better if you were here :( want you to touch me so bad wjbwjhdbe

yawnchoi can fly you into korea if you want...

yn YOU'RE KISSING *KIDDING

yawnchoi i'm notttttttt dekjbdekj pretty cunt's got me all horny :((

yn i don't even care if it's a one night stand choi fucking yeonjun's gonna fly me out to korea to fuck me heck yeah

---------------------------------

and he does. books a flight last minute for the next day, from your country to seoul, puts on a pair of sunglasses and his least conspicuous outfit, and drives to the airport. he isn't THAT nervous- it's not like he thinks you're gonna murder him.

and when you walk out of the airport building with nothing but a backpack with you, looking around and waving slightly when you see him, his heart quickens just a little. (and NOT just because he's seen you naked).

you decide to sit in the back of his car for no reason other than you want to, and maybe a little bit because you can't exactly handle looking at him straight on quite yet.

to your surprise, there's no awkward small talk, just him getting straight to the point and saying all the members are out of the dorm currently, but, ever the gentleman, he says since you flew a long way, you can sleep a little bit first and he won't bother you.

your whole body is on alert and you find yourself thinking that there's no way you'd be able to sleep now. it's one thing to sext someone knowing they're an idol- another to actually be in the car with them, on your way to where they live, and knowing you're going to actually fuck them.

yeonjun politely takes your bag when you get out of the car, and when his fingers wrap around the strap, his hand brushes yours slightly. you internally feel like you might faint- you hadn't actually prepared yourself for this, and now he was touching you and he feels real and you knew he was real but now it just feels extra.

holding your bag, he opens the door to the dorm, leading you in before following, taking you into his room and placing your bag down on the floor next to his bed. every single action that takes him closer to you makes your face grow hot, the bed dipping slightly under your weight when you sit down. the sheets are soft, but your mind barely registers it, focusing instead on the fact that you are in yeonjun's bed.

he opens his mouth to say something, and you panic, cutting him off quickly with a wry grin and a statement. "i might need some alcohol in my system before we do anything else."

yeonjun raises his eyebrows in the slightest, a little surprised, but he also gets it. he's pretty sure both his body and his mind want you way too much right now, but he's so nervous he might not do anything. his hands are twisted in his lap and he quickly realizes and sits on them instead before standing.

he leads you to the kitchen, getting himself a can of beer and letting you pour yourself a couple shots of vodka. you know your limits- it's just enough for you to get a little tipsy and stop overthinking everything.

knocking one back, you enjoy the burn in your throat before taking the second. the slight buzz under your skin makes you smile slightly, leaning against the counter while he takes long sips of his own drink. it's obvious he wants this to pick up, so you busy yourself messing with his shirt just a little while he drinks. you slip your fingers under his sleeve, mindlessly rubbing your fingertips back and forth over his skin. you can tell he remembered your comments the previous day about his arms, basing his outfit around that.

he has another tank top on today, arms flexing when he brings the can to his lips to take another sip, and you move your hands a little farther down to rest on his chest. this time, when he lowers the can, his lips are a little wet from the drink and you can't help but press a messy kiss to them, licking the liquid off. yeonjun lets out a slight hiss when your tongues meet, left hand reaching behind him to place the can on the counter.

the alcohol must really be working already because you're both stumbling to his room, messily tugging each other's clothes off, and yeonjun leaves a line of wet hickeys up your neck. each and every touch of his skin on yours makes you feel fire burn a trail across your body, but it's in a way that makes you almost absolutely sure that it's not just because he's one of your celebrity crushes, or because you're a little drunk.

yeonjun's movements are so rushed that in seconds he's on top of you, his own shirt off, pants quick to follow once you tug at them. your hands find way to his newly-lightened hair when his lips and tongue meet yours again, a different kind of intoxication weaving itself up and over each of your limbs, the kind of intoxication that makes you want to live and breathe this man.

"want you," he whispers, cheeks pink from the alcohol, his eyes slightly glazed when he looks into yours, and the way he says it makes your cheeks grow hot again.

"go ahead then, 'm all yours," you exhale in response, trying to ignore the way your heart twinges at your own words. this is just a one time thing, you have to remind yourself.

but yeonjun's eyes light up and he presses another kiss to your lower lip, one hand moving between your legs to part them. his eyes lower to your cunt, and you can feel the way your underwear are sticking to your pussy. you'd chosen to wear white underwear today and you're pretty sure they're see-through by now, drenched completely from all the feelings yeonjun's touch is sending through you.

"all mine?" yeonjun mumbles, eyes wide. and when you nod, he smirks slightly. "love your cunt so much, i might just take you right now." your own eyes widen and yeonjun can feel your breath hitch. "but you'd like that, wouldn't you? pretty slut would love her jjunie taking her raw, would love to have me cum inside..."

you suck in a breath through your teeth at his words, nodding quickly, spread out on the bed beneath him. your mouth tastes like alcohol and yeonjun, and your brain tries to forget how he so flippantly called himself your jjunie.

"jjun, just, just fuck me, please?" you whimper out when he rubs a fingertip over your clothed cunt.

"baby asked so nicely, might as well give her what she wants," he coos, tugging off his boxers only once he slides your underwear down your legs. "promise you'll let me taste you next time?"

you nod, too distracted by the fact that he's already planning a 'next time' in his head to realize that he wants to eat you out, but by the time you understand, he has the tip of his cock pressed to your entrance, other hand holding yours as he slowly pushes in. the gesture feels sweet, romantic even, and you let your eyes fall shut when he pauses his movements.

yeonjun's body is pressed flush to yours in a way that allows him to brush his fingers over your neck, skin smooth against you. his hand wraps loosely around your neck and his breath is hot on your cheek when he whispers, "is this okay?"

you nod once more, only because the combination of the alcohol and his body on you is making your brain so fuzzy you can't think clear enough to speak. yeonjun hums lightly and experiments with his grip, making you gasp a little when he also hits your g-spot. he lets out a hiss when your already-tight walls tighten further around him.

he'd had a feeling that you'd feel like heaven around him, just because of the fact you had stated you were only able to fit two fingers inside yourself, but he had obviously underestimated all the sensations that were going to overwhelm him like they are now. every movement of his hips towards yours makes him fight to control the tremble of his body. your hand is linked with the one he doesn't have around your neck and every time he buries himself completely inside you, your hand tightens just a little around his.

he's losing himself just a little, hand still laced with yours, pace quickening until jolty, broken, high pitched moans are the only sound leaving you. yeonjun can't help but smirk at that, hoisting one leg over his shoulder. "fucking pussy is so perfect, almost like it's made for me, taking me so well... might just keep you here, my personal little cumslut, could bring you on tour with us, fuck you every night in the hotel room, how'd you like that, hm?"

his rhythm is so brutal you're choking on your words by now, broken sobs slipping through your parted lips, tears filling your waterline and then slipping down your cheeks, mixing with the slight mascara you'd put on this morning and making your face a mess. yeonjun likes it too, the way he's so easily able to get you like this, just a few words from his lips and you're crying.

he can't help but tell you this with a mocking pout on his lips that turns into yet another smirk, chuckling when all you can do is whimper incoherently. yeonjun kisses you gentle enough to make up for his harsh words though, he's only trying to make you feel good, and he knows you like it when he talks down to you.

one hand still around your neck, the other moves from your hand to your waist, and he's only fucking into you harder when you whine out that you're close. his lips catch yours again when you gasp out his name, gummy walls fluttering around his dick as your whole body shakes from the force of your orgasm, yeonjun's fingertip rubbing at your clit making you convulse under him.

yeonjun bites back a little moan and lowers his lips to your ear again. "can i cum in you, baby? let me make you mine?"

you can't tell if he's just saying it in the heat of the moment, but you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you.

he bites his lip slightly, only losing control completely when you lick up the side of his neck and bite a splotchy hickey onto his neck. his warm cum fills you as he mumbles out a string of curses mixed with your name against your neck.

yeonjun practically collapses on you once he pulls out but lets himself take a second to marvel at how pretty you look right now, mascara leaking down your cheeks and neck, his cum and yours leaking from your swollen, abused cunt.

you let him wrap his arms around your form, cheek against his chest, both your bodies hot and sweaty, his bangs plastered to his forehead. there's a question on the tip of your tongue but he answers it for you, mumbling in your ear, "will you stay? for longer than just today?" yeonjun pauses slightly, then continues. "i'm not sure if i want you to be just one time. i know that this part of our relationship is new but we've been talking for so long and yeah, i don't want you to go back home and for this never to happen again."

you purse your lips, alcohol fogging up your brain and making you a little too sleepy to respond. "we'll talk tomorrow, hm? it's late and i had a long flight and i'm tired, jjunie..."

he nods slightly, running a hand through his hair, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, yn."

"night night, yeonjun," you exhale.

you're almost half asleep when you hear him whisper, "the others'll be home soon, if they see us like this, i'm blaming you..."

[archangeldyke-all]

another idea..

do you think Sevika can dance? I can't get the image out of my head of her slow dancing/grinding with Reader either at The Last Drop or at home 😩

omg... so many thoughts...

men and minors dni

sevika doesn't think she can dance.

when silco takes her up to piltover for fancy dinners and meetings, she's always scoffing and lurking in a corner when guests ballroom dance. she's got no training in formal dance-- and she's got no interest in it either.

but, dancing isn't all just stuffy ballroom dances. and, if you think about it, fighting's really similar to dancing. it's all about reading your partner, and moving in time, and keeping balance.

so while she says she can't dance-- sevika's a fucking menace on the dance floor.

she won't dance with you in the bar until she's sufficiently drunk-- both on you and on liquor. but once she's loosened up and you've teased her enough, sevika can't keep her hands off of you.

it's mostly just rhythmic grinding, whether she's got a thigh between yours or she's pressed against your ass. her hands are always in motion, groping your thighs, ass, tits, stomach, then starting the pattern again. and her mouth is either whispering filthy fucking words in your ear-- all the things she wants to do to you-- or she's sucking hickeys against your neck or fucking her tongue in your mouth.

there have been several times sevika's groping and grinding on the dance floor have turned into clothed fucking. sometimes she'll sneak her hand down your waistband to cup your cunt; sometimes she'll grind against your ass until she's cumming in her pants; sometimes you guys are just so caught up in each other, your lips locked, your legs intertwined as you sway, that you both end up cumming against one another.

at home, she'll dance with you too.

it's more romantic in these moments.

usually, she'll catch you swaying to and fro to some music playing on your little radio while you do household chores, and she'll gather you in her arms to sway along with you.

like while you're cooking dinner, she'll hang off of you, her arms around her hips, as she hums along to the tune and the two of you sway your hips in time to the rhythm.

or, when you're cleaning, she'll turn you around in her arms and sling her arms around your waist, pulling yours up to rest on her shoulders.

she'll press her forehead against yours as you sway, drawing little circles into your hips with her thumbs, sometimes shooting forward to press a peck to your lips.

she's always sweet-talking you when she's got you like this, in her arms gently dancing around your living room.

"you're so fucking beautiful. can't keep my hands off of you." she whispers.

"feeling's mutual, baby." you whisper back. she smiles.

"i'm so in love with you it's kinda crazy." she says. you grin.

"me too, baby." you say, darting forward to kiss her. "you're such a sap." you say against her lips. she chuckles.

"only for you."

your heart melts, and you take a half step back to hold sevika's hand in yours, raising it over your heads to spin her beneath your arms. she giggles, and you pull her back to your chest, resting your ear against her heart.

"you're a good dancer." you say. she snorts.

"yeah, right." she mumbles. you pinch her hip and she squeaks.

"you are!"

"i only ever dance with you, y'know." she says. you grin.

"well, aren't i special?" you ask. she grins and nods, taking her turn to spin you, before pulling you in for a kiss.

"so special." she agrees against your lips.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[theboarsbride]

im obsessed with your terror bear wife pls tell me all about her and her adventures with sir john

EEHEHEHE IM SO GLAD WAGH THANK YOU HKSHDSKJDSKJSDKJDS🥹it means a lot that you guys like my silliness!!💕

(also forgive me for rambling, i'm like half awake after finishing assignments so my brain is tired but is also excited to ramble about bear wife-)

basically she (idk if i'll ever give her a name, but bear-wife just sounds so silly but...no name for now ig, maybe i'll call her lady-bear or smth idk) is just a hallucination as a result of Sir John getting lead poisoning, and is lowkey a manifestation of his all-consuming hubris coming to haunt and 'consume' him in return. (she gnaws at his flesh a lot without ever leaving a mark...especially around his face and throat, while her hands will hold him intimately, such as with embraces, touches on the shoulder or knee, caressing his face, etc. to create a sensual and uncanny image, because how much is it his 'wife' and how much is it a haunting?) Sometimes she lurks in shadowy corners watching him with unblinking eyes (that glow with that tapetum lucidum look animal's eyes have, while having very much a human sentience and emotion of disdain), is staring at him from the darkness of the Arctic, or will just be sitting on the foot of his bed - just waiting to fuck with him.

Also she mimics the sounds of his wife's voice (or at least sounds she makes, as she doesn't really speak WORDS, more like garbled gibberish), but they sound scratchy and warped and wrong. so yeah!! psychological terrors heehee! So she literally whispers 'sweet nothings' into his ear before she grazes her teeth across skin, it's all fun and cheer here!

and just for shits and giggles i need it to be known that i like to pretend sir john just says 'fuck it' at some point and accepts this hallucination haunting him and lets her flop on him in bed, or will let her lay her head in his lap, like a giant lap dog. gives her scritches behind the ear and under the chin, the whole nine yards-

but....yeah... this is nonsense but this is MY nonsense, and tysm again for wanting to know more AAAAAGH!!!!!💕

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

hello terrifying talented friend! i come bearing more ask game numbers than is reasonable so feel free to pick and choose!

2, 11, 13, 17, 35, 73, 81

💚💚💚

Thank you my friend!

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

This was what happened with most of the back half of The Hedgehog’s Dilemma! I intended for Ted to have a fairly minor role, but I wrote his conversation with Jamie in chapter 3 and there was so much of his own baggage with his dad lurking under the surface that it promoted him to one of the main characters. James Tartt also unexpectedly invited himself to practice while I was writing the scene where Jamie picks him up from the train station in chapter 5, and the fallout of that ended up being most of the plot for the rest of the chapter. 

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I know so much about reality dating shows now, including a bunch of research into American shows that I probably didn’t need to do. Apparently after someone gets eliminated from The Bachelor, they have to ride around in the back of a limo with one of the producers until they could get a shot of them crying, even if it takes a very long time (which is maybe more sad than neat). 

How much research I do for my fics depends on how much research I have to do in my academic life — when my life was consumed by thesis research over the summer, I hardly did any, but now that I’m mostly onto the writing/editing portions, I do it more often.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Writing fanfic! I think I’ve mentioned before that I started off writing original fic, and for some reason I was convinced that fanfic would be way more difficult. It isn’t, and furthermore is a lot of fun. 

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

Damn you, inability to remember any line I’ve written after I’ve written it! I’ll go with: 

They’d got stuck to each other, these past days, like those little birds that rode around on top of capybaras but if the capybara saved the bird from his shitty bird dad and promised to take him home to see his bird mum, and in return the bird was so blindingly handsome and good at football that the capybara was honoured to have him riding around on his back, actually, even if he pretended not to be ‘cause he was a grumpy old twat.  

from THD because I got a lot of nice comments about it, so now capybaras are permanently associated in my mind with people being nice to me on the internet, in addition to already being my favourite animal. I love those funky little guys. 

35. tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

Rebecca! She’s a delightful schemer in season 1, very poised and put together on the outside but kind of earnest and sweet on the inside. I’m also occasionally a schemer, but we’re generally very different people and want very different things out of life — I don’t think anyone would describe me as poised or earnest, and I don’t want a life partner of any kind, and definitely not kids. 

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I can picture some scenes very clearly, but more often as static images rather than like a movie, so it’s a mix of trying to describe what I see in my head and just writing. 

81. if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

You don’t have to write quickly! It’s okay if you don’t make your word count every day or takes days off or set lower goals. In fact it often works better — it’s easier to be deliberate in your writing when you aren’t pushing to write a chapter a week. 

[lanabotomy]

The Female Rage Consumes Me

“Female rage,” sounded like an oxymoron for the majority of my life. The characterization of the words alone create this kind of juxtaposition that seems unrealistic. Female; womanly, kind, soft, gentle, all these words just to portray this image of innocence and purity. Rage; ugly, consuming, violent, the word itself feels inherently masculine. And yet, I watch and listen as the rage fully envelope and consume me.

I don’t know when the idea of Female Rage enraptured my brain, but I could say it started when I read a silly little book by Margaret Atwood called The Robber Bride.

“Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”

The idea that I can never fully be myself without the ever lurking man watching me, sexualizing me, consuming me like a piece of media only to be spat out once I fulfilled his satisfaction, it disgusts me. To worsen the matter, I know deep in my soul, that if I wasn’t desired, I wouldn’t know who to be. I don’t even know which parts of me are real or which parts of me have been created in pursuit of this ideal “male fantasy” I have created in my head subconsciously, and that enrages me even further.

Is the rage I feel even valid? Maybe my rage is actually just a deep rooted fear, a fear of what has or what could happen to me. I remember those lurking eyes on me since the age of 9, taking out the trash around 9PM in my galaxy leggings, those men yelling at me, asking me where I am from and where I live, what plans I had. All I could do was run in fear. I remember being 6, my mother’s boyfriend holding my hand and telling me that he’d marry my mother one day, what felt like a threat, those peering eyes undressing me, that hand burning a hole through me, as if the ghost of his perverted touch was still there. Or maybe it was those days in school when I would get groped, almost daily by the boys, the teachers said I was more developed and to expect those things, to wear less revealing clothes. I wore star wars shirts, lord of the rings shirts, and DC clothes. What was so sexually appealing about that? The worst memory of all…. I was forced out of my dorm room while 5 drunk guys stayed with us, none of them my guests. I remember just wanting to sleep. I remember one of those guys being weird, and avoiding him all night. I was so tired that night, and yet I didn’t want to sleep. He snuck into my bed, put his hand over my mouth, and did what he needed to do to satisfy himself. The unwanted touching, the unwanted stares, the unwanted attention. I feel like a walking piece of meat in the land of hungry wolves; A temptation to be consumed.

The rage that consumes me comes from a place of fear, and a place of knowing that I cannot be helped. One in three women experience sexual assault within their life, one in five experience rape, and yet only one in one thousand rapists face persecution, and that is only from reported cases. More than 2 out of 3 cases go unreported. Those are just the basic statistics. Imagine them in other situations; homeless women, women in 3rd world countries, women of color, women in the military, queer women, women in prisions, women in situations where they are helpless. I cant even begin to fathom the stories that would pile up beside me if I was able to speak to every woman, every feminine person, everyone who has a story.

To be so helpless in a world that doesn’t support me, it’s simply sickening. And I live the “Land of the Free, Land of endless Opportunities.” I feel the rage of my sisters, or the women around the world who know and understand me.

[maguro13-2]

The Dark Beginnings ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 0 Pt.13 (2/2) ~

*CLOCK RINGING!*

Tsugumi Harudori : (yawns) Aw man. Last night, attacking the bad guys was a pleasant wild night for me that I was the masked warrior, but eventually, I wielded a powerful Halberd in my hand because being hero is that easy. (enters the bathroom to look into the mirror) I am so much in pain last night. I've taken my medicine last night and I get the strangest feeling that I was that masked warrior that fighting the threat of all...I need something to do with my hair. It's gone messy around! (Wings flapping) Hmm? Strange, I don't remember a bird flapping it's wings before, but I do believe that I heard flapping in my wings or something grew out of my...!?

*DBZ SFX : SURPRISE!*

Tsugumi Harudori : What's going on?! How did these wings grew out of my back? Am I a demon, a dragon or something? How did this happened before? That mask! (flashbacks of Tsugumi carrying Meta Knight's mask along) I knew that the mask I received has the power to turn into this! This is...the birth of a new hero? Oh man! This is weird, how do I get it off!? Wait a sec, if I can revert these bat-like wings on the back of me, I could really-(suddenly, the wings turns into Meta Knight's cape to cloak herself) What? How did these wings turn into a...What's going on? How did I not know these powers?

Doc Waruyama : Meta Knight's Cape has the power to transform into wings! (laughs evilly)

Tsugumi Harudori : Deja Vu! This must be the power of a warrior's cape and mask! This is incredible! I'm finally becoming the hero of my own story! Now then, heading to eat breakfast!

(cuts to Tsugumi heading towards the dining table)

Tsugumi's Mother : Ohayou, Tsugumi. Today's the test. Did you finished your studies?

Tsugumi Harudori : Sure did! I finally able to ace it on my own and I didn't overdue it. So, you have my toast ready?

Tsugumi's Mother : Of course, it's ready. By the way, I heard that a masked hero have defeated a lot of bad guys and crooks that were severed. And I believe that the people discovered that is was a warrior that it's cape has transformed into wings.

Tsugumi Harudori : Masked hero...wings?

(images shows Tsugumi fighting the bad guys and gangs)

Tsugumi Harudori : Oh, you don't wanna know, ma. It's just an excrusion to thinking that a Warrior appeared in the other day. But I believe it maybe a sign for a warrior. I hope it might return one day, or probably it's just hiding somewhere in the shadows. That's on me. So anyway, I'm heading off to school.

[Metro City (Day) - Yutaka Minobe]

Tsugumi Harudori : (leaving the house, while holding her toast with her teeth) Okay, ma! I gotta get goingl! See ya later!

Tsugumi's Harudori : Okay, sweetie! See ya after school!

"I'm Tsugumi Harudori. I'm only 14 years old and I'm an otaku fan that is notably for being a great designer of science fiction models like Gundam, and many other sci-fi action figures. My suggestion that I was a kid who always believed in heroism and many heroes that lived in this country are superheros, but in that case, I'm a first year student that has been playing video games. But hey, at least I did girlish things for my friends tho."

"Ever since Soul Eater Mysteriously existed, there was something unknown to that place that had the weirdly symbols called the eyes of Kishin, but they weren't, they belong to a world called the Shadow Realm, and it's come to my attention that Soul Eater and world of it was really a facade to the Shadow Realm, alright."

"Detectives from all over the world were fighting crime to solve mysteries to uncover the secrets of Shadow Realm's whereabouts, heartless are creatures born from people's hearts, and they lurk in the shadows to have the ability to disguise their selves as humans that we all know. Believing that they might have a connection with the monster Zorc Necrophades, legendary dark one and creator of the Shadow Realm."

"Zorc has not been under the influence of Shinra Kuskabe, neither his son Death himself. He has been using the evil forces in Soul World as a diversion for demon vibe's galactic conquest. But hey, at least the world of light knows that it's Angel Vibe's duty to keep us out of the darkness ourselves. Hope anything that we may have a brighter future ahead of us."

[Bell Tolls]

Teacher : Alright, students. Please be seated and we will now begin the test. Now, Please open your textbooks...

[PigeonBlood Ost : Discretion]

Tsugumi Harudori : (in mind) Hmmm...quite mysterious about that mask, I wonder what happened on that night.

(a flashback shows a possessed Tsugumi wielding a Halberd while attacking the criminals)

Tsugumi Harudori : (in mind) Nothing's too much about it. All those people I killed, it was definitely me alright. I don't know why I killed those people from the powers of that mask. So familiar. Did I do something weird, or was it killing bad ones was just a test to find out how did that mask gave me the power of these wings? Especially, I'm just nervous about that I am aware of these powers I didn't even know what's gonna happen if I did something wrong in Tokyo.

(later cuts to Tsugumi outside at the rooftop, looking at the clouds)

Tsugumi Harudori : So, about having a mask that is so rare to wear it. I wonder who gave me it to me? Can this be a gift from another warrior, or was this my test to be worthy for the hero I wanted to be in my own story, my true story. (looks at Meta Knight's mask) Nothing much, it's just a mask that doesn't have any much powers, tho I might right or wrong, it's my choice to be the hero that I wanted to be.

Tatane Meme : What are you doing out here, Tsugumi!

Tsugumi : YIKES! Meme-chan! What are you doing here?

Tatane Meme : I just wanted to drop by and to see how are you doing to get a crisp-clear view of watching the sky. It's pleasant that I wanted to have my lunch with you. I already I got mine.

Tsugumi Harudori : I got myself some lunch. My mom made it for me.

Tatane Meme : So anything happened last night?

Tsugumi Harudori : Yeah, I don't know what on that night. I believe the masked warrior wielding axe while wearing the mask was so mysterious, it made me killed all of those people that were threat to the innocence. But what if someone was just a somebody and I'm a nobody? If there was really a hero that existed, I don't know why Soul Eater existed in the first place? It's because of this stupid "Influence" caused by the Kusakabe.

Tatane Meme : But, Tsugumi, I did know! I did know it! Shinra was the one who brought that influence.

[PigeonBlood OST : Night Moorning]

Tsugumi Harudori : Meme-Chan, are you really sure about that?

Tatane Meme : Of course, Tsugumi-chan. That warrior who wielded the halberd and killed all of those people, it was...it was you. The one who gave you that mask, was a simply created by the masked warrior Meta Knight. He must've gave it to you as a part of your test to become a warrior and hero to them all. The news was spreading like flames when everyone heard that the masked warrior wielding the Halberd was called Sir Halberd Knight.

Tsugumi Harudori : Sir Halberd Knight? The warrior who fought alondside with him? Now I remember, that masked that I wore belonging to the original Sir Halberd Knight, who was once the rival to the powerful warrior that ever existed, Galacta Knight. He faced his enemies in combat and he wields a powerful halberd that has been passed down for generations. Eventually, due to his sudden disappearance, Meta Knight and the other knights have discovered a body that was a wounded warrior in battle with the wizard Nightmare or eNeMeE that was battling with a bunch of monsters, and I just found out that the body turned out to be Sir Halberd Knight himself, who was attacked by the hands of Nightmare himself. Meta Knight would never forgive him for what he did and Nightmare was imprisoned within in the Fountain of Dreams at Rainbow Resort.

Tatane Meme : So Nightmare did kill him, He did that before Marx did it to Meta Knight. It's no wonder villains are always up to their tricks and therefore, It's a bad thing that has ever happened to this world. We don't why villains were up to destroy the world, probably, it's much more likely then genocide or omnicide. No one in the universes saying they were gods, but what did you expected the stories about heroes and villains conflicting each other?

Tsugumi Harudori : Beats me. Criminals, terrorists, and vicious monster attacks that happened humanity this bad. Nobody knows that why Real World AU is being harmed by the Ohkuboverse, why did it existed in the first place? Can we all agree that being hero is nothing but life consuming work. I never wanted to join the school, to think I am a tool to Shinra's Kind. the Mabuki aren't created by the witches and their magic, it was only Alchemy as the secret ingredient. This was nothing more than a big cover up by Shinra's men of Influence.

(DOOR OPENS)

Tsugumi Harudori : ?! Thank goodness, someone has arrived. Anya Hepburn. I should be thanking you for...Anya, what happened? Did something did this to you? You spilled Tomato juice or is it marinara sauce that we needed for the mozzarella sticks?

Tatane Meme : Umm...Tsugumi-chan?

Tsugumi Harudori : What is it? (hears blood dripping)...Oh God! Anya! Anya! You're...You're bleeding! Anya! What happened!? How did you get yourself wounded!? Was there an accident at the school!

Anya Hepburn : *breathes heavily* That was no accident. It was an attack...from that masked warrior!

Tsugumi Harudori : An attack? What attack? Is it the heartless?

Anya Hepburn : It may have been the heartless, but there is someone else that did the job. There is a mysterious warrior that looks alike meta knight and he says that he's from the Mirror World. He wants to meet with you at the Track and field, soon as possible!

Tsugumi Harudori : Don't worry. I'll go meet someone at the track and field, I gotta the meet the bastard that is responsible for attacking my best friend.

Anya Hepburn : Hurry and find this masked knight that did this to me and others!

Tsugumi Harudori : Okay, Anya! I will! Meme-chan! You look after Anya, I'll go meet up with the warrior! I will show him what a true hero that can do! This is my moment to shine!

"You have gotten your courage to save lives and yet your heart says you have acknowledge the skill of a warrior. You are ready to save the innocence and protect those who are needed for a desperate plea for help."

"And the answers have been made by your brave actions."

"Go Forth, new Sir Halberd Knight! And be the bravest warrior that you truly are!"

~ Prologue 13 : Enter Sir Halberd Pt.2 ~

[misterbrick42-slaytheprincess]

A list of all the custom paths I've made, and the AUs

StP The Poisonous (actually published): A deadly trickster, if not a bit silly, who can kill you in a single touch. Paired with the Voice of the Hesitant, best suited by the Freeze response, and main desire is to just not do anything.

StP The World Ender (actually published): Can only be reached if you NEVER doubt the Narrator in chapter one. She is exactly what the Narrator describes her to be... or is she? Will you give in to your same mistakes, or arrive rather late to realizing that there's something else going on here? Comes with the Voice of the Advocate, world champion in Suck Up.

StP The Double: There's two princesses. Depending on what you do, they can wildly change. They all look similar to other Chapter Two princesses, but more tame. Comes with the Voices of the Split: Who work as two voices in one. One is against the princess, one is for her.

StP The Rival: A toned down version of the Adversary where you fight the princess unarmed. It's clear that the Princess is just humoring you when she agrees to fight on equal terms with you. Comes with the Voice of the Honorable, who will refuse to play dirty, unless the person they're fighting against plays dirty first. Cares a lot about self-image.

StP The Blur: When leaving the princess in the basement, if you try to leave the cabin altogether and forget this happened, you will discover it to be less than effective. Comes with Voice of the Regretful, who regrets every action you've ever taken, and says as much. The Princess is a multi-armed monstrosity that you... can't make out anything else about, because Regretful refuses to let you. She's held underground behind iron bars; no staircase or basement here.

Not custom paths, but entirely new AUs:

Adventurer In The Cabin In The Woods (so close to being finished but i never got around to making the finale.): And in a completely different thing separate from base game, you play as a nameless Adventurer, who is just an ordinary guy swept up into whatever LQ and Shifty have going on. Across five runs, use DnD mechanics and dice rolling to make friends, make enemies, and prove that you have a place in this story. Five runs are out and i don't think i'm going to get around to finishing that finale.

Path Through the Woods: In this AU, you and the Princess are in a Caravan on a path to a Cabin, which is said to contain what you desire most. However, the Narrator warns you that the Princess is evil, and will use what it holds to destroy this world. Will you slay her to ensure she can't? Disregard the Narrator and head there together? Or abandon the Caravan and ensure that you arrive there first? The woods are dangerous, and be warned that it's unwise to turn back... something dangerous is always lurking in the opposite direction. (it's not the Princess.)

Unending Dawn (mainly a concept): This AU takes place after one of the endings. Take a wild guess which one. Play as an entirely new character, and be guided by an entirely new narrator in a quest to save the world by slaying this seemingly harmless bird. This bird is not the Princess, but he is reactionary. Your assumptions generally prove to be correct. Find him somewhere in his larger cabin, be it upstairs, the kitchen, the basement, or outside overlooking the giant sun that casts no light, slay him, save the world, and perhaps find out what exactly you're ending when you do so.

A Story Retold: In what appears to be a slight altercation but is really a complete reworking of the plot from the ground-up, instead of getting more voices when you start a new chapter, you gain a new narrator. That's it, that's the premise. Also LQ and Shifty are not here.

In lieu of me finishing these stories, please ask me questions about them. please. please. oh god please grill me for details about these.

i should make a sideblog so all the slay the princess shit i talk about isn't caught in between my reblogs

[specialagentlokitty]

Alice x reader - future

29 and 30 with Alice Cullen and female Witch reader? - Anon💜

29. “I want to be the one you think of when you see something cute, I want to be the one that makes you smile at your phone or makes a hard day better.”

30. “I just know it won’t happen…”

Part of being a witch was reading the future, seeing it and making a choice based on the events you seen.

You never once looked into your own future, but when Alice came to you asking to look into her future you didn’t have a choice.

Being part of her life you knew you’d see some of you there as well.

“Can I have your hand?”

“Of course.” She smiled.

Alice placed her palm in yours and you looked at her.

“Is there anything I’m looking for?”

“Just what my future is like.”

You smiled and nodded, closing your eyes.

It took a few minutes to find the path to her mind but when you did you took it and let the images flash by.

Fighting to protect her family, finding someone for Bella. Moving time and time again with the coven and Jasper, you quickly opened your eyes and gave her a sad smile.

“Your future is perfect.”

“Are you sure?”

You hummed and nodded, focusing on the book you had in front of you instead.

“Yeah. You’ll be very happy.”

“Thank you~” she sang.

Alice quickly hugged you before running you and you turned to Edward who was lurking in the corner of the room.

He was watching as it played out.

“You should tell her.”

“She won’t be affected by me not being there. Leave it Edward.”

Getting up, you left the room as well.

After finding out you weren’t in her future you decided to distance yourself from the vampire, throwing yourself into work and clients.

While you were getting ready to go on a trip with some paranormal investigators, you were stopped by someone knocking on your door.

“(Y/N)?” Alice called.

“Yes, it’s open!”

The door quickly opened and closed and you watched as Alice came in, a frown on her face.

“Edward told me.”

“What?”

“You’re not in my future. You were no where to be seen. You’re my best friend, I don’t want to loose you.”

“Alice sometimes things happen, you know this.”

“But you should still be with me!” She argued.

“Alice, the future is absolute! You and I both know there’s no changing what I saw. The moment I saw that future it was set in stone.”

“We can still try change it…” she whispered.

You sighed, shaking your head at her as you carried on packing your things.

Rushing over, Alice took you by the hand and moved you away from your bag, taking you to sit in the living room instead.

She let go and sat on the table in front of you.

“Why? Why won’t you try?”

“You really want to know why?”

“Yes! Because you’ve been acting weird ever since you found out! It’s like I’m loosing you already!”

“It’s because I want you Alice!”

Both of you stared at one another for a few moment and you finally sighed.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head slightly before wringing your hands together.

“I want to be the one you think of when you see something cute, I want to be the one that makes you smile at your phone or makes a hard day better.”

Alice never said a word and you gave her a sad smile as you stood back up.

“I just know it won’t happen…”

Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head before you started making your way back to your bedroom.

“I’m sorry Alice, it’s easier this way.”

Within a second she was gone.

She was speechless, no words she thought of seemed like a good enough reply.

So, Alice decided to wait until you came back so you guys could talk again, and maybe she could finally find the words.

But what was supposed to be a week long trip turned into two, then three, then months.

You weren’t coming home, and this was why you weren’t in her future.

Not because she didn’t want you there.

Because you weren’t around anymore to be there

[wilhelmjfink]

Tough Luck

*Stede bonnet voice* hi all! I’ve had a broken hand and been in a brace for months. They wanna do surgery but I refuse. So I just haven’t written anything. Ever. So uh. Sorry. But thanks to everyone who’s been lurking and liking my old stuff :,) literally gets me up in the morning

This was in my drafts. Could be years old. Who knows? Starting our favorite asshole, Negan. I think it was a drabble request. I have no idea where I am even at right now. Plz enjoy.

—

Boy, he’d been pissed.

Vaguely, like a fever dream, is the image of Negan stepping into your line of sight when Simon had swung open the van doors to start loading up whatever Alexandria had given you guys for the week. Or rather, whatever you’d stolen from them for the week, if you’re splitting hairs…

But you’d held your finger up to your lips — not quick enough — the second that Simon cocked his head and blurted out your name curiously, you could easily see Negan’s ears perk up like a god damn bloodhound at the sound, and when he spun around, spotting you crouched in the back of the hauler… holy shit.

You’d only had time to argue briefly, hushed tones throwing harsh accusations and a litany of curse words from one particular side of the party, while Simon oversaw the rest of the crew as they collected the food and ammunition and supplies from the town of Alexandria.

And it was a cute little town. You really had no clue why he would never let you come along on these runs; why he’d deemed them so dangerous. It looked like something you’d seen in the cover of Homes and Gardens, honestly. You’d liked it at first. Well, maybe you still liked it — you couldn’t quite remember anything past Negan fuming at you for sneaking along on what you assumed should’ve been a simple run for him.

Because now, you’re in the back of that same hauler, headed away from the cute little town of Alexandria, for foggy some reason. Twice as fast as you’d headed there. Driving erratically, lying in the back of a van that was supposed to be stocked full of goods. Instead, in their spot, was Negan, crouched beside you with one hand steadying himself on the headset of the drivers seat, and the other (rudely) pushing down painfully onto your stomach as he barked orders that you might be positive were just more swear words, if you could understand him at all. Your head was swimming, and your ears rung.

A pothole jolted the vehicle and you bounced with it, unintentionally crying out in the stabbing pain it caused your abdomen, also getting Negan’s attention.

Wild eyes glanced down at you, then back toward the driver. “I said fuckin’ take it god damn easy!”

“Sorry, boss — I’m tryin’ to hurry!”

Trying to focus on the blur of colors passing by you in the back window didn’t help much to distract you from the pain. In fact, you were sure Negan was making it worse, and you weakly reached up a bloodied hand — you only stopped to gawk at it in confusion for just a moment — and push Negan’s arm away from you. He didn’t budge, but instead, used his free hand to lower yours back down to your side.

“Knock it off,” he told you, his voice gentler than it had been when he was addressing the driver. “Rag’s already fuckin’ soaked through.”

You winced. “Hurts.”

It was only when Negan’s darkened eyes found yours again that you noticed his change in expression: the softening of his features was when you realized he’d been furious, permanently scowling with brows furrowed. That was, until he looked at you and recognized the pain in your eyes, the tears that poured down your cheeks. A Negan that you couldn’t quite remember ever seeing before in your life — granted, you were having trouble remembering what had happened ten minutes ago, but still. New. Maybe comforting, if it wasn’t oddly worrisome.

“I know it hurts, doll,” he exhaled, gaze flickering to your stomach where his strong hand secured previously mentioned blood-soaked rag. It stained his fingers now, too, and it made you feel bad. You liked his hands. “We’re almost back, Carson’ll fix your sweet ass right up, okay? Just a bit longer.”

For some reason, your hands started to feel numb. And the tips of your toes, too. “Are you upset with me?”

Your question seemed to take Negan by surprise: “Am I — what? Am I upset…” The surprise faded quickly and was replaced with understanding. “Oh.”

“I just don’t like being left behind.”

With an exasperated sigh, Negan situated himself into more of a cross-legged position, adjusting his tall form as comfortably as he could in the cramped space of the van while also skillfully managing never to alleviate any pressure on your stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, Y/N, I’m pretty fuckin’ pissed off right now. But we’ll talk about it later. Just try and relax for now.”

“I just…” Words were hard to find and your mouth was dry. “I worry that you won’t come back,” your voice was straining slightly now and added some sort of emotion to your sentence. Or maybe it was the sudden rush of tears and sobs lodging in your throat at the memories of watching him leave on runs and nights laying awake wondering if he would ever come back to you or if he was dead in the woods somewhere.

He steadied himself against the back of the seat and stared at you intently, as if he was trying to get an exact read on you in that moment. Were you delirious, just talking out of your ass from blood loss? Were you trying to soften him up, knowing very well you’ll be in a lot of trouble if and when you heal up from this back at Sanctuary?

Or were you legitimately scared for Negan? Did you really stare up at the off-white popcorn ceilings when you should be sleeping, wondering if he was safe and alive? You weren’t sure why it was such a hard concept for him to grasp, at first, but then you remembered exactly who you were dealing with… maybe the blood loss was making you delirious.

Closely you watched him through half-hooded eyes as he swallowed thickly before finally responding. “Darling, I will always do everything in my power to come back to you, alright?”

You forced a pained smile up at him.

“But there’s a fuckin’ reason I don’t take you on out certain jobs. Exhibit A.” He nodded pointedly at your abdomen, as if you could’ve forgotten what he was talking about. “I don’t fucking trust these pricks. This group… they’re fucking stubborn. They are trying deliberately to break the rules and fight me. The egg head hand-god-damn-made one single fucking bullet for the one gun they had that they were gonna use to shoot me today. And look what fucking happened!”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” you rasped. If you could have shrugged, you would have. The vehicle slowed and you could hear the familiar creaking of iron gates opening as you pulled into Sanctuary. “One single bullet? Sounds kinda lucky to me.”

“Yeah, and no offense, sweetheart,” Negan started, shifting awkwardly but carefully as to not jostle you too much when the van doors swung open. Gently, knowing there was no way to move you without it hurting, he slid his clean arm under your upper back and the bloodstained one under your knees, lifting you slowly from the back of the cargo van. You hissed, stiffening, dropping any attempt at a front to seem tougher than you really were. “You aren’t exactly the luckiest fucking gal I’ve ever met. You have a tendency to run right the fuck into danger and get yourself hurt. So, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep you safe and sound here, short of wrapping your fine ass in bubble-wrap.”

“Danger has a tendency to run into me,” you corrected him, though you weren’t sure he even heard you until you saw him roll his eyes… maybe even with the ghost of a smile on his lips?

Or maybe the blood loss was making you delirious.

[darklcy]

is it okay if i request 8,14,15 angst to fluff/comfort with marcus? <3

its actually not okay. (JK YES THANK U FOR REQUESTING)

✿✼:*ﾟangst prompt list ｡ arcane masterlist *･ﾟﾟ･⭑

→ prompt: "be honest. do not lie to me." : getting jealous + blaming the other initially : s/o storming out the house

→ pairing: marcus x reader | Arcane

→ warnings: swearing, mentions of insecurities, maybe ooc marcus?

→ word count: 1.7k

→A/N: (pls just pretend they have phones or some sort of device similar to a phone adjdfjksjdk)

Marcus always struggled with voicing his internal feelings.

On the outside, he played the role of an uptight, spiteful Sheriff of Police, when on the inside, he often crumbled under his insecurities. More than he'd ever like to admit.

You had the talent of seeing through this exterior wall, his built in boundary that blocked every person he came across from ever getting inside. Only you were allowed in, and sometimes that terrified the fuck out of him.

You were a treasure. An irreplaceable vessel in his heart.

On occasion, he wished he could hide you away to protect you from the evil that lurked in the City of Progress, but that'd be physically impossible. You, of course, had your own life, and he had his. Though, as much as reminded himself of this, he couldn't help but worry.

The intrusive thoughts swam inside his brain like mindless fish, feeding him stupid ideologies about other men flirting with you or you waking up one day deciding not to love him anymore. He couldn't trust the world to deal with a beautiful person like you. He wouldn't dare allow anyone to step into your path to try to give you harm or steal you away.

Like the pea-brained piece of slime blowing up your phone right now.

He couldn't help but avert his eyes over the screen each time it buzzed, lighting the device up with yet another text notification. Just who does this guy think he is?

"Hey hon? Have you seen my phone?"

Shit.

Quickly jogging over to the other side of the room, far from the device, Marcus tensely resumed his tea sipping.

"It's over here on the table."

You emerged from the hallway leading back to your shared bedroom with a relieved sigh, a towel wrapped around your damp hair. Marcus couldn't help the smile at the sight. Though the bothersome tightness in his stomach returned when he watched you pick up your phone.

Surely you'd bring up the texts to him and laugh it off, right? You thought this guy was annoying too, right?

But you said nothing. In fact, you actually scoffed at whatever was on the screen, shaking your head with a grin while walking back to the bedroom. Marcus almost dropped his cup from the way his fingers began to tremble.

Nothing? You weren't going to say anything? Were you..?

Marcus shut his eyes and shook his head.

No. Stop. That's not it.

Placing the cup in the sink to wash it, Marcus ignored those damned images of you potentially cheating on him with another man. His teeth bit down on the skin of his lip as his chest burned with nerves. As he switched off the kitchen light to head back to your room, his lungs inhaled a deep breath.

For now, he'll sleep on it.

--

The next time it happened, Marcus could feel his insides twist and fold into each other.

Somehow he managed to get off patrol early, and had prepared a nice meal for dinner. As he cut through the steak with his fork and knife, he couldn't help but be painfully aware of the way you sat unfocused. Distracted, even.

Your eyes stayed downcast to the device beside your plate, as if waiting eagerly for a response. Your food had barely been touched, and you hadn't spoken to him more than a simple greeting. His appetite vanished in seconds.

"How's the food, honey?"

He chirped up the inquiry, hoping to grab your attention again and bring you back to him. You hummed as you glanced up at him, lips forming into a tight smile.

"It's really good. Though, I might eat later...I'm not feeling too hungry right now."

Marcus couldn't hide his disappointed frown.

"Oh, are you sure? Have you eaten today?"

You sighed as you gathered up your meal, moving to the kitchen counter to put the food in a tubber ware bowl. "Yes, but..I don't know. I'll eat later."

Marcus watched you put the leftovers inside the fridge with a growing crease in between his brows. The saddened expression soon turned sour when the buzz from your phone vibrated the table.

--

It'd been going on for far too long now.

You and your phone acted like glue, as if you'd formed a co-dependent relationship with the piece of technology and would perish without it.

Marcus's stare flitted over to your form on the other side of the couch, your book abandoned at your lap while your fingers tapped on the screen to respond to whoever had been bugging you nonstop.

Overtime, his worries began to fornicate into anger; anger at that damn phone and at you for continuing to entertain it. Who was so important on the other side that you'd allow them all your attention?

He wanted you to bring it up, to reassure his unspoken concerns and answer his inquiries about the other person. But you weren't a mind reader, so if you weren't going to say anything, then he would.

With a tense swallow, he suffocated his looming fury and cleared his throat.

"Hey, [First]? Can I talk to you about something?"

You paused your typings to glance up at him.

"Yeah, what's up, hon?"

He almost wanted to laugh at your use of the pet name.

"..I've noticed recently, the past few days actually, that uh...You've been texting a lot. I don't know who you're texting, but do you mind if I ask who it is?"

You shifted at the uncomfortable tone in his voice. Clicking the button to turn off the device, you let it rest in your lap as you shrugged.

"Just a friend from work. Why?"

A scoff emitted in his throat. "A friend? Who?"

The space between your brows heightened as they pulled together, your confusion milking your expression. "..Why does it matter..?"

"Because you're texting them all the damn time, [First]. We haven't had a real conversation in days because you're always on it."

His irises narrowed into a glare as he leaned forward, his arm barely grazing your thigh.

"..Is there something you're hiding from me? Another man, perhaps?"

You couldn't believe what he was insinuating right now. Another man? But before you could open your mouth to respond, Marcus shuffled even closer, bringing his face right in front of yours.

"And be honest. Do not lie to me."

He was moments away from an outburst. He could feel it in his stomach, his chest, and his mind. As he watched the way you swallowed nervously, pupils dancing in between his eyes, he hoped for you to clear the air. To say it was a misunderstanding on his part.

You sighed through your nose.

"I wasn't lying, Marcus. It's just a friend. I would never cheat on you."

You were wholeheartedly telling the truth. But the built up rage and tint of red flooding his vision said otherwise.

"No. You're lying to me. You're fucking someone from your job, aren't you? That's why you ignore me and pay attention to him, on your little phone all the time, huh?!"

Panic. "I'm telling the truth! Do-Do you want to read my texts?"

You held the device out on your hand to him, but all he did was throw his head back and groan.

"Why the fuck would I want to read your texts with him? For fuck's sake, [First]!"

He couldn't stop. His mouth kept moving, and his inner demons kept overflowing. He'd finally opened the gate, and now all Hell was loose.

He wished he would've found the strength to suppress his anger at the sight of your broken hearted expression. You stared up at him with wide, glassy eyes, a deep frown resting on your lips. You just...listened. No more protests to his claims, no retaliation.

Just silence.

Fuck.

It was too quiet. He needed noise, a release, something, to break him out of his head. He needed to get out.

Storming over to the front door, he roughly twisted it open and slammed it behind him. You stared at your quivering fingers as he did this, flinching at the harsh sound of the wood coming back to its frame. A drop fell down your eye ducts, softly dripping down your chin and collarbone.

"Fuck!"

Marcus swore as he slammed his fist against his thigh. He didn't care where he was going, he just kept walking farther and farther away.

Away from you.

--

It was late into the night when Marcus finally returned.

You hadn't left from your spot at the couch. The bones of your cheeks rested on your knuckles as you stared at the floor, tears flying down to the ground like a soft drizzle. His words hadn't left your brain for a second, nor did the broken gleam in his eyes.

It completely shattered your heart.

At the sound of his footsteps entering the living room, you instantly perked up, blurry eyes locking onto his form. Hopping up on your feet, you moved over to him and wrapped your arms around his torso, not caring at all if he was still mad from earlier or not.

Marcus gasped at the sudden contact. His eyes first landed on your phone laying on the couch cushion before they fell to the top of your head against his chest, a sniffle escaping your nose here and there.

He immediately softened at the sound. Bringing his arms up to embrace your shoulders, his eyelids softly closed as he laid his chin atop your head.

It was you who spoke first.

"I..I'm sorry for not paying as much attention to you. I'm not cheating on you, I swear on my life. And I'm sorry for my actions that led you to believe that."

Marcus's eyes watered up from behind his lids. You nestled your cheek further into his chest.

"..I've been planning a project with a co-worker, and they prefer texting over calling. That's why I've been so occupied with my phone. But I shouldn't have let it consume me. It took time away from you."

Pulling back to see his face, you cupped his cheek gently.

"I love you, Marcus. I love you so much...and I don't want to be with anyone else."

Marcus blinked a few times, a couple drops of water falling onto his skin. Twisting his head, he laid a kiss to your hand before leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I should never raise my voice at you, for any reason."

Swooping you in for a kiss, his hands cupped your face to tilt you upwards.

"I love you, too."

[redorich]

for the hermit canyon, i humbly request:

Etho messing with Karl and maybe like, Lazarbeam or Fundy, by pretending he’s moth man.

Quackity stalks through the woods, blissfully unaware of its other inhabitants-- not that he would care, if he knew. No, tonight, under the full moon (because it's romantic) he makes his move.

The Hermit, as Quackity is completely sure of, is a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair as white as snow. Because she is a creature of untold power and beauty, fairy tale logic obviously applies. Therefore, if Quackity can steal her clothes, she will have no choice but to marry him and they will live happily ever after as big booty bitches in love.

Nodding to himself, Quackity feels assured in his logic. He's wearing his favorite assless chaps, his best pair of knockoff Yeezys, and no shirt. He is ready for what is to come.

---

Karl lurks deep in the forest, illuminated only by the moon. He leans against a tree, taking care not to disturb his outfit-- he is camouflaged as a bush. Dangling strips of green and brown fabric cover his body, and his limbs are completely hidden in the costume so long as he stands still. It's a daunting task, standing still in the dark, dangerous woods at night. Nevertheless, Karl knows that this is what he must do.

"Triclops Mothman, my beloved," he whispers into the night. He will find Mothman, and he will marry Mothman. There is no alternative.

---

Far away from both Karl and Quackity, though still in the same spruce forest, Sapnap angrily prowls. Well, he'd describe it as a prowl. Truthfully, it's more of a pouty stomp. He knows that this forest has had multiple "Hermit sightings", and Sapnap wants-- no, needs what he's after.

"Hermit!" he screams into the night. "Come out and fight me, you little bitch! Man on man!"

To emphasize his point, he bangs a pot and a pan against each other several times. Sapnap is getting his revenge for that little ravager prank, one way or another.

---

Deep within the canyon walls, the Hermit complex looks like an overturned anthill with all its activity. It's Halloween night come early.

"I'm not wearing a dress," Etho insists.

Grian whines, "But Etho, I made it just for you! It matches Stress's outfit."

Stress, upon hearing her name, looks up from her book and waves. Cleo is currently fiddling with the thick mane of synthetic white hair Stress is wearing, styling the wig into a princess-y type braid.

"I'll say it again," Cleo says, looking very intently into Etho's eyes, "I could take your place."

"No," Etho sighs. "If what Puffy said about these guys is true, you'd probably bite someone's face off by the end of the night."

"You're no fun," Cleo huffs, but acquiesces.

"At least put on the wig," Grian demands.

Grian and Etho have a staring contest for a solid ninety seconds before Etho snaps his fingers in front of Grian's face, causing him to flinch and blink. "You cheater--!"

"I'll wear the wig," Etho interrupts Grian. Instantaneously, Grian loses his outraged moue.

Cleo sighs. "They're the same wig, right? Do I have to braid Etho's hair, too?"

"I think I'll be fine with my new flowing, luscious locks," Etho says with a humorous crinkle to his eyes.

They all laugh as Etho dramatically flips his fake hair, whipping himself in the face with it in the process. He also receives a thumbs up from Joe, who is in the process of searching for his contact lenses because "Herobrine doesn't wear glasses", according to Bdubs.

Night falls, and the Hermits are prepared. They hope their victims aren't.

---

Quackity catches a glimpse of silver-white after so long searching in the woods. With a little gasp, he eagerly pursues it. His beautiful maiden, ethereal and distant like the moon, darts between trees and leaps across creeks like she is flying, like her feet barely touch the ground.

He follows her to a clearing, but when he bursts through the brush into the open space, she is nowhere to be found.

“Mi rey!” he wails, “Fantasma hermosa! Come to papi!”

Etho, hiding in a tree about five feet away, has no clue what any of those words mean. He affects a terrible falsetto and throws his voice. “Hello, Quackity.”

Quackity jumps, looking around wildly for his beautiful girlboss queen. “Hermit?! You know my name?”

“Of course, Quackity,” Etho says, hefting a large rock in his hand. “Come closer, I have a cask of Amontillado we can share.”

Quackity turns toward Etho's voice just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the Hermit's mask, his (fake) long white hair, his decidedly not female appearance. Quackity looks the Hermit up and down. Etho has never felt more Perceived.

"What's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Quackity says, flirtatiousness dripping from his voice.

Etho eyes the man's assless chaps with distaste from his crouched perch in a tree. Quick as lightning, he chucks the heavy rock in his hand at Quackity's head, knocking him out instantly.

Etho jumps down from his tree with a huffed sigh. "Well," he says, grabbing Quackity by the ankle and dragging him, "time to get to work."

---

"Pspspsps," Karl whispers, "heeeere Mothman..."

The sound of a twig snapping to his right makes Karl freeze, then turn ever so slowly. There's no one there. Karl holds his breath for what feels like an eternity, but is eventually forced to admit that the noise was probably just an animal. Surely, a creature of Mothman's size would make more noise when he walks, given the weight of his strong legs.

"Mothman," Karl says. "I wrote you a poem!"

Joe, who was up until this point hiding behind trees and ominously snapping twigs, feels a twinge of morbid curiosity. As a poet, he absolutely has to know what Karl considers an adequate love poem for Mothman.

With red cheeks, Karl professes his love:

"Your feelers make me feel so sweet

Your hindwings set my heart aflame

Fern-like antennae make me melt

And Mothman, you're to blame."

Despite himself, Joe is a little bit impressed. It almost makes him feel bad about what he's about to do-- almost.

A soft eerie glow seeps into the forest, catching Karl's eye. He investigates, creeping forward until he turns around a tree and sees glowing white eyes. He screams, but there is no sound, and the forest has disappeared. Only those eyes remain, and they too flicker out of existence.

There is a dim corridor ahead of him, narrow and lit by redstone torches. At the end, there is an iron door. He runs to the exit, but as soon as his hand touches the door it disappears and he is engulfed by swirling purple-- like a Nether portal, but so much more terrifying.

The purple is gone and he can just barely make out the menacing image of a man with glowing white eyes T-posing in the blackness. Karl opens his eyes and wakes up on the forest floor, prone and sore.

"Right," he mutters breathlessly to himself, "Mothman is not interested."

---

"--YOU BITCH ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND STICK 'EM ON YOUR HEAD!" Sapnap screams, banging the only pot he owns against a non-stick frying pan he stole from George.

"Well, that's not very nice, innit?" says a feminine voice. Sapnap looks left, right, behind him, up in the trees... then down.

Big brown eyes peer up at him through white bangs. A displeased pout set into a moon-pale face attached to an equally moon-pale woman chastises him without words.

"...You're the Hermit?" Sapnap says disbelievingly. He has his doubts that someone as small and pretty as this woman could wrangle a ravager onto his front lawn.

"You wanted a fight," she huffs. "And for the record, you totally had it coming, with Pamela's Revenge-- remember, the rava--"

"Yes, I know the ravager was named Pamela's Revenge! There were like eight hundred million death messages in chat about it, you jackass!" Sapnap snaps, trying to cover up his unease. It's not that he's hesitant to hit her because she's a girl; he would deck the shit out of Niki or Puffy with absolutely no provocation whatsoever. It's just that... she looks soft. Like a non-combatant. It would be too easy, too cruel--

Stress punches Sapnap in the jaw with a wicked right hook. "Stealing is wrong," she says.

While Sapnap is dazed and quite possibly mildly concussed, Stress follows up with a brutal kick to the shin. Sapnap makes a genuine effort to fight back, and he’s no slouch, but he’s been taken so thoroughly off guard that the best he can do with his head spinning as it is is to swing with a wild haymaker and hope it hits.

His fist makes contact with something soft and squishy. He hears a grunt, but Stress shoves him over onto the ground and dumps a bucket of glitter over his head. It burns his eyes, but more importantly it burns his pride. He doesn’t remember at what point he dropped his pot and pan (he must have at some point, because he punched the Hermit with an empty fist), but he’s angry enough to open his watery eyes through the magenta glitter and snatch George’s frying pan up off the forest floor, hurling it at the Hermit with devastating accuracy. She yelps, blocking with her forearm at the last moment.

“Knew I shoulda let Etho...” Sapnap hears the Hermit mutter. What’s an Etho?

Stress irritably bonks Sapnap on the head with the pan he threw at her. He goes limp like a ragdoll, and Stress sets about maneuvering his body into a sitting position leaned against a tree so she can do his makeup while he sleeps.

“Hope I don’t poke his eye out!” she says. “Ah well, he’s got two anyway. Now, should I go for a cute, summery look, or a dark evening look?”

---

In Atrium 1 of the Hermit Canyon complex, Puffy laughs loud and clear, clutching her paper cup tightly so she doesn’t spill her fruit punch. "No,” she chokes out, “he didn’t.”

Cub, holding a similar paper cup, waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Yep. That’s Etho for you. You know, one time he got Doc to run around with a snowman head on, eating spider eyes?”

“Oh man,” Puffy sighs, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I’m so glad I snitched on Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap. I can’t wait to see their reactions!”

Cub grins evilly. “Stress got pictures before she left.”

Puffy gasps, stars in her eyes. “I’ll bake you a whole cake if you get me a copy.”

“I’ll bake Cub a whole cake if he gives them to me instead,” Grian interjects from across the room. “I don’t need them, I just want to take them from you.”

“Nooooo!” Puffy wails melodramatically. “Grian, please spare me!”

“Five diamond blocks,” Grian makes his demand.

Puffy continues to fake-sob, pretending not to notice Scar sneaking up on Grian until Scar drops an anvil on Grian’s head, like a Looney Tunes episode but slightly to the left. While Grian is distracted, Cub slips the pictures to Puffy, who puts them in her inventory without looking.

Etho walks into the Atrium, now dressed as his normal self, including his natural hair, which looks like an angry wet cat perched atop his head, just the way he likes it. Everyone cheers.

“So, how’d it go with Quackity?” Puffy asks with a smirk.

“Well...” Etho says.

---

Quackity wakes up with the sun in his eyes. In front of him is the public Nether portal, and standing right in front of it is a wide-eyed Sam, staring directly at him. Quackity looks down.

He’s naked, covered in half-dried honey, and tied to a pole like the world’s sexiest flag. And he’s got the world’s worst hangover-- it feels like he’s been hit in the head with a large rock.

“Not again,” he groans.

“...This happens often?” Sam asks.

“If I had a nickel for every time something like this has happened,” Quackity says, wiggling his way out of the ropes tying him to the pole, “I’d have enough money to go buy myself a pair of pants.”

Sam averts his eyes to the sky, abruptly aware of exactly why Quackity would feel the need to buy a pair of pants.

“Damn it,” Quackity says. “Those were my favorite pair of assless chaps.”

“Were they now,” Sam says numbly. The sky is quite blue today, it’s rather beautiful.

Quackity huffs in aggravation, finally having freed himself from his binds. “Yeah, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to, you know?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says slowly. “I wouldn’t know much about-- assless chaps.”

The naked man shrugs. Haltingly, Sam unclasps his cape, pulling it off his shoulders and offering it to Quackity.

“Nah,” Quackity says, “I’ll just streak.”

“Please don’t,” Sam says with pain in his eyes.

[sundaysundaes]

Drunk Antics

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 5.8k | College AU

Summary: After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.

Sort of a continuation from Our First Time but can be read separately.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, drunk unprotected sex. For the sake of the very little plot there is, Mark is intoxicated in this fic so his consent may be unclear. Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

“You forgot that you borrowed his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.

Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”

“Kind of?!” He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were sure that he had his AirPods on!”

You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”

“I am feeling like you just took advantage of me!”

“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”

“Babe,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He heard us.”

“Mark,” you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been super weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”

Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother heard us having sex—I can’t—”

“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”

“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“

Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Did you hear that?!”

You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.

Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—no—”

“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—your cum, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“

“No—”

“Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”

“Babe!” You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean ‘for once’, am I—“

“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”

Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “What?!”

“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”

“But I am going to call our Mom.”

“That he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.

“Where are you going—Baby, get back here!” You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.

Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man really starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.

When he’s sure he looks less fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.

“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.

Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… smiling at you?”

“Don’t. You look like a serial killer.”

“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking way too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”

Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I used to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”

If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m so sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“

“Yeah, I do go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.

Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”

“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”

“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”

“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.

“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”

“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.

“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.

Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“

Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”

Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he still can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”

“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“

“Not a request, Mark.”

“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.

“Also, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

***

“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.

“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.

So it’s time for you to actually get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you finally begin working on your assignment.

It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.

“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how high he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he reeks of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all because. of. you.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.

“Mark—“

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d love some pancakes—“

“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.

“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.

“You are so drunk.”

“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”

You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”

“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so coooool~”

“What?!”

“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so fit.” You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend fangirling over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, a lot a lot.”

You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“

“Babe, you’re rambling.”

You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”

“Drunk enough to know that this,” he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”

You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”

“Why did you name it after me?”

“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”

“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank God, your fish is safe and alive, though probably also a little bit drunk because of that sudden… turbulence.

“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.

“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”

This is certainly not the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”

“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”

You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he looks romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.

“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”

“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day before that. And—”

“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. “Mark!”

“Babe!” He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”

“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”

You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.

“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”

You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.

“Mark—“

“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.

“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “Hot.”

You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”

“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.

Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.

You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just how much you’ve been missing.

The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending actual shivers down your spine.

Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small moan as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.

He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always love the way he tastes on your tongue.

He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, this is just so hot.

“Mark,” you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and fuck, it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”

You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a fucking bitch. You secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.

“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.

“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.

Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.

You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.

“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”

“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”

Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Sober Mark will definitely not say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just thinking about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.

“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”

Fuck me. “Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mark, please.” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Please eat me out, Mark.”

He smiles in the sexiest way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is this guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.

He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.

“Fuck,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.

“Mark,” you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is so good that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.

“Mmm.” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.

“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.

“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”

“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”

You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”

Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “Fuck,” under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”

“Mark.”

“Babe.”

You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, come on! I want you to fuck me!”

He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an mmm sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”

“No, fuck, just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”

It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh God—”

His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.

He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”

“Wha—fuck!” It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before,  and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.

Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-hyung told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.

You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark doesn’t stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,” between kisses.

When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.

You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process what the fuck just happened.

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”

He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.

When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they cannot catch the two of you looking like this.

“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”

He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.

“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with your naked body. He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.

You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”

“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he shrieks louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am I naked?!”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.

Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.

“Want some aspirin?”

He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.

“Umm, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re naked.”

You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”

Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”

You were planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”

“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”

“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”

“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.

“Mark, look at me.”

“No way in hell!”

Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.

You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”

Mark gulps.

***

[mitsukui]

make it cream | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary: George finally tastes a bit of his own medicine ━  a sequel to ‘Good Girl’; if you still haven’t read it, I highly recommend you doing it so, because it’ll make so much more sense! (PART 1! + PART 3!)

Word Count: 2,5k (I know this got a little bit long, but take it as a ‘thank you’ present!)

Warnings: smut! Oral sex (male receiving), masturbation (male receiving), dirty talk, edging, cum play, daddy kink, degratation kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: the amount of support I got from ‘Good Girl’ was insane, you guys! I could never express how grateful I truly am for each and every one of you. Thank you for all the likes, the reblogs, the messages. I hope you enjoy this sequel as much as you enjoyed the first part. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention!  ♡

@gecrgesweasley​ thank you so much for giving me permission to use your idea somehow! ✨

Masterlist!

You had grown a bit tired of it. Enough was enough. It was not like you were unhappy with it; most times, you actually enjoyed it enormously. But now, every single time was the same.

It was high time you dominated George Weasley.

The sensations you felt that night still lurked in your body. Images of his big hands lashing out onto your skin still burned in the back of your mind. The warmth of his saliva on your tongue could still be felt whenever you pressed it against the roof of your mouth. Your legs still trembled slightly when you thought of the overstimulation he put you through after he had fucked your face mercilessly.

That night had been the first of many. Before it, you had never had any complaints about your sex life with your boyfriend. He had always shown himself as a caring and thoughtful partner. But you had been relentlessly suspicious of something within him fighting to make its way to the light.

George’s façade concealed how ravenous he truly was in bed.

And his dominating ways had awoken something in you.

You caught yourself wondering during lunch breaks whether you could make him come undone only with your hands. You visited muggle sex shops after work frequently. You spent long, extra minutes in the shower, pleasuring yourself over the thought of degrading him, exactly like he had done to you so many times before.

All you needed was an opportunity, since you already felt confident enough to try a few things on him. All you needed was an opportunity. And, apparently, all the planets aligned on a Saturday night to lend you a helping hand with that.

As usual, he had decided to work on a few things for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the comfort of his flat, where you tended to spend your weekends at. Midnight was slowly approaching, but he was still going over some numbers and projects he had planned with Fred.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning towards the small squared table. He was still in his uniform, and numerous parchments were spread across the place he was working at. One of his hands supported his chin while the other was used to fiercely scribble new considerations about previously discussed topics.

It was funny how he could turn you on doing the most ridiculous things, such as working. George was a very intelligent man, and whenever he poured his brain out into something, you could feel your knees buckling. The way he would share his and Fred’s projects with you without exception was quite cute, too.

But tonight was not about being cute. Tonight was about torturing him and making him beg.

“It’s late. Almost midnight. Let’s go to bed.” Your voice brought him back to reality, and he offered you a weary smile. In your eyes, the way he threw himself into his passions was beautiful; but, once again, you found yourself secretly desiring to help him relieve all of the stress that existed in his body.

“I’m not tired.” He said in a low voice. “And if I don’t have this ready by tomorrow, Fred is gonna kill me.” As he chuckled, he shook his head to himself.

“Well, he’s not anywhere to be seen here, is he?” You raised your eyebrows playfully. A big difference between the twins was that Fred knew how to disconnect from work when their shift was over. But George was different. He used to go for that extra mile quite often. And to you, that was beautiful, too.  “And I know you’re tired. You know I know you like the back of my hand, right?”

You both stared at each other for a little while in silence before laughing softly. He gave up on pretending he was not tired, because deep down inside he knew you were right, and let his body to sink into the chair. His slender fingers loosened his dark amber tie, and your heart instantly skipped a beat.

“If you don’t want to go to bed, just let me do something for you, then.” You suddenly spat out, unable to control your excitement. The universe was right there, offering you a chance to do what you had been dreaming of for a few weeks. “Please.”

“Damn, princess. You know I go crazy when you beg for something.”

Your teeth were pressed gently onto your lower lip right after you whispered a second plead, and your eyes gained a new devious sparkle to them. The heat between you two was soon to elevate, just like that first night.

George spread his legs a bit and patted his muscular thighs, wordlessly telling you to sit on his lap, which you eagerly complied. You wasted no time in settling your body onto his, and pecking his thin lips once.

You reached out for both of his hands, and you swallowed hard at how big they looked when compared to yours, arousal starting to build up in your loins.

Looking intensely at his eyes, you placed one of his hands around your neck. He was fast to give your skin a delicate squeeze but, somehow, you craved for more. So you took his other hand to your lips.

They wrapped around two of his fingers, and your tongue ran over his skin. His exhaustion made his body more sensible than it usually was, and you felt pleased with yourself as soon as he threw his head back. Husky groans began to leave his lips when you started sucking on his fingers hungrily. You hollowed your cheeks, already moving your head up and down and rocking your hips against his body.

You could feel he was about to switch from groans to real moans, but things could not be that easy for him. You pulled his hand away from his mouth, a string of your saliva still connecting him to you. He sighed heavily due to the frustration that now took over his body.

“You are such a little whore.” He was panting slightly as his eyes fell upon you once again, and there was a light flush on his skin. “Daddy needs to teach you a lesson. Good girls always finish what they started. Open your mouth.”

“No.”

A flash of disbelief splashed across his face and it was almost as if the world had stopped for one or two seconds. He was unsure whether he heard you correctly.

His hands got a grip on your hips, his fingers pressing down onto the soft skin hard enough to leave some bruises there. “I said ‘open your mouth’, princess.”

“And I said ‘no’, Daddy.” A smirk appeared on your lips, adrenaline rushing through your veins faster than blood itself. You tilted your head to the side, and used your fingers to play with his tie and the collar of his shirt. “I’m not taking any orders tonight, Daddy. I’m calling the shots, for a change.”

After that, it did not take long until he was completely undressed in front of you, his hands tied to the back of the chair with his own tie, and his hard cock sprung free, laid on his stomach.

You had barely started teasing him, but he was already whimpering for some mercy. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed, and he felt like bursting into tears any moment now.

It was fun to be dominated instead of dominating, but it was something he was not used to. He did not know how to control his own instincts that well, and he was suffering. His desire was to cum all over your hands, but you said he could only do that when you allowed him to. Painting your entire body with his own seed was something he loved doing, but being unable to do it whenever he wanted to was causing tiny excruciating  fireworks to explode inside his chest.

Your lips brushed against his left thigh, pampering the freckle-stained area with soft and small kisses. You eyed him while making your way up through his body, your mouth soon reaching his crotch for the first time that night.

He felt the warmth of your lips touching his cock ever so slightly, and returned to whimpering. A delicious wave of desire crashed within your body when you tasted the precum that leaked from his tip. However, you allowed your mouth to be restrained to that area only.

George attempted to buck his hips up to thrust into your mouth, but you immediately leaned back. “Now, don’t be a bad boy, Daddy.” The tip of his cock received a new substitute for pleasure without warning: your fingers.

Loud cries echoed in the kitchen as you ran your fingertips gently over his reddened tip. You were deeply mesmerized by his reactions, yet you wanted more.

“Would you like me to suck your dick, Daddy?” You purred, your voice dripping in lust and excitement over your recently discovered dominance. He nodded vehemently. “Would you like to feel my wet and warm tongue running up and down your shaft?”

Those filthy words were leaving your lips easily, and your nails were scratching his skin lightly. “Can you imagine receiving a sloppy blowjob, Daddy? Tears running down my face as your thick dick hits the back of my throat.” You wrapped your hand around him, and pumped him up and down a few times, your pace being terribly slow.

“My saliva getting mixed with your juices and, then, escaping my lips and dripping down my tits.” Your hand moved in a faster pace, but it was not fast enough for him. His chest started rising and falling, pleasure erupting in his body. “And, finally, your hot seed exploding in my mouth. Can you imagine that, Daddy?”

A giggle slipped out of your lips and went straight to his core. His cock twitched in your hand, and you pretended to be surprised. “Oh! You like that, Daddy?” Up until that moment, you had been enchanted by the sight of his tip disappearing and reappearing in your hands. But you finally looked up at him, and you swore you were in heaven.

George had his eyes closed, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He was tirelessly trying to free his own hands. Even though his lips were apart and trying to say something, nothing was coming out of them.

“You know how much I love to have you in my mouth. You fill me up so well, Daddy! You are so thick, so big, and so veiny.” A little peck was laid on his tip, and his muscles tensed up as he tried again to be freed from the restrains on his wrists.

You finally put an end to his suffering and took all of him at once, his cock indeed hitting the back of your throat. You gagged and tears welled up to your eyes, but you persisted. Pushing your head even further down, you heard him moaning your name.

He was in sheer ecstasy. You carried on sucking him hungrily, and his needy whimpers did not cease. There was something about the way your bodies connected: he fit perfectly into your mouth, and he felt your touch could work wonders on him. Among so many lustful feelings and thoughts, he realized he was hopelessly in love with you.

“I-I’m close, princess.” His back arched a bit, and he groaned loudly. “Don’t stop.”

But you did. You stopped without thinking twice. And he cried out loud, frustration coloring his veins again. George tried to form coherent sentences to express his discontent, but it was difficult to think straight.

“You’re pathetic, Daddy. What do you think people would say if they saw you like that?” His thighs were splattered with delicate kisses like before. His breath was uneven, and he cleared his throat. Your words resonated through your surroundings, but he did not feel embarrassed at all. In fact, he was enjoying this far more than he expected.

“I reckon you are a whore. My whore, Daddy.”

Your fingers danced against his wet tip repeatedly while your other hand gently cupped his balls. His legs trembled violently due to the extra pressure you put onto his sensible tip. He warned you he was close to releasing one more time, but you stopped your movements again.

Your boyfriend mewled shamelessly, sounding like a desperate kitten. It was the second time you were edging him after a long session of teasing, and you could tell he was aching. The veins in his cock were prominent, and his tip was now taken by a dark reddish shade.

“All you have to do is beg, Daddy. I know you can do it.”

“P-Please, princess. Let me cum. I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” The tiredness he had endured all this time became evident on his voice, and you almost felt sorry for him.

He was a hot mess. Sweat dripped from his face, strength no longer existed within him to fight against the wrists restrains, and agony was the only visible feeling on his handsome face.

With a fond smile on your lips, you ordered him to cum for his princess as you pumped his cock in your hands for the last time. When he warned you about his release being close, you let go of his big shaft and watched it as it landed on his stomach.

You whispered dirty nothings as your hands ran up and down his body, and it did not take long for him to feel his orgasm being expelled from his tip. Thick strings of his seed covered the skin on his own stomach.

That was a sight to be proud of.

You moved your body closer to his, at last removing your knees from the cold kitchen floor. Trying to soothe him a bit more, you used your hands to caress the sides of his body that still trembled slightly. Without warning, your tongue collected all of his cum into your mouth. He felt your tongue running up and down, side to side, over his abs, and his torso jolted in overstimulation.

His taste was amazing to you, and you felt incredibly close to him by doing that. You, then, realized you were hopelessly in love with him as well.

With a tad of effort, you finally stood up properly. Your intimate moment had taken its toll on you, too. Knees were sore, legs were weak, and throat was slightly sore.

You leaned down towards his face, and his eyes confessed he could not take any more bit of teasing. Your thumbs stroked his cheek bones, signaling it was really over now. But you still squished his cheeks gently, and his lips opened only for you.

His own cum was soon deposited in his mouth, and he moaned at the new sensation. You brushed your tongue against his lips and, once you were free to talk again, you did. Your voice came out like a hoarse murmur, but George thought it was incredibly sensual.

“Can you swallow it, Daddy?” Your fingers continued on caressing his skin and he nodded weakly, your eyes watching him swallow his own release. “You’re such a good boy.”

“I’m going to fucking destroy you next time, princess.”

“Bring it on, Daddy.”

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - ii.

NOW PLAYING: Vampire [Dominic Fike]

cw; nothing really, very small mentions of manipulation and murder

an: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD , THINGS GOT BEHIND SCHEDULE :(

“The curious are always in some danger. If you are curious, you might never come home.” – Jennette Winterson

She couldn’t get him off her mind; ever since she met him, all her thoughts have led back to the droopy eyes and the slick back hair that seemed a lot softer than what the gel presented it as. The whole idea of her thoughts tracing back to the eldest of the Haitani’s and her heart beats mimicking each time the octave of his voice dropped with every word he spoke to her, made yn almost forget all the rules her big brother placed when it comes to men.

Why does she yearn to be in the presence of someone who would not hesitate to take her life for a laugh amongst his gang? Why does she want to run into the back allies of each street in hopes of accidentally bumping into him? Why isn’t she able to use common sense and erase the memory of him out of her head? Why does she feel like fate has strung their paths together on purpose? Why – you know what? Maybe she latched onto Ran so fast in hopes of forgetting someone else that continued to plague her mind daily. Maybe she is becoming obsessed with idea of someone not seeing her as a kid. That has to be it, right? Ran, ‘Tani-Senpai,’ shares the same interest and even wants to talk to her later as if they have been old friends. That has to be it —

“Yn!” her brother’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay, ya idiot?” She took note that everyone at the table was staring at her, waiting for her to answer Draken’s question. “You’ve been spacing out since we got here,” Draken frowned as he plucked a piece of food from her plate, “are you sure that nothing happened on your bike ride to the shop?”

“If you were riding to the shop, I would have gladly picked you up,” Inupi chimed in with a soft smile. “I told you to treat me like I’m another older brother.”

“Hm,” yn hummed while avoiding eye contact with the blonde man, “wanted to surprise my troll of a brother and I figured you were off because its Tuesday.”

“Ah,” Inupi gently laughed as he watched her play with her food, “you remembered my schedule?”

Of course, she remembered his schedule. Yn knew almost everything about him; from the origins of his beautiful burn mark to his favorite snack in the vending machine back at the shop, yn knew and fell in love with it all. Draken always teased her about being in love with Mikey or Hakkai since she always seemed relaxed around them, but little did he know that his little sister was in love with his best friend and business partner.

“I’m honestly shocked that you kept it the way you did,” yn side-eyed him as she raised the other hand to pick at the bandages that wrapped along the underside of her jaw, “but at the same time, I’m not that shocked considering old people love to stick to their schedules. Wouldn’t want you straining your back, Oji-chan.”

Inupi laughed – God, she loved that laugh - whole heartedly to the point he began choking on his food. Of course, sitting with their friends and family, Inupi’s contagious laugh spread amongst the others and the people around them either ignored it very well or gave them silent glares in hopes they would stop; surprise, they did not. Hell, if anything, it got worse – so much worse – to the point that Mikey, Takemichi, and Chifuyu all fell out of their chairs.

“I – what did I say that was so funny?” yn pouted as she fished her phone out of her pocket, “I just called him the old man he was.”

“That’s why, brat,” draken flicked her forehead and chuckled, “we had made a few bets on what you would say when Inupi had talked to you. Surprisingly, Mitsuya guessed you would have called him a grandpa.” Draken and the others proceeded to give Mana’s big brother 200 yen as they got up off the floor and calmed down.

“So, Yn,” Takemichi looked her in the eyes with a dopey flushed face.

“Watch it ‘ Mitchy,” Kazutora playfully warned, “don’t wanna embarrass the poor girl since she just got back.”

“What is it, crybaby,” she asked hesitantly as she scanned over his face, noting signs of mischief lurking in the corners of his smile. “It better not be something stupid, or else I’m telling Hina-san about what you did last time you came over to the shop.”

“Oi, you’re so mean – just like your brother,” Takemichi pouts and fans his hands towards you, “but it’s just a simple question, neh.”

Yn enjoyed Takemichi’s presence more than someone from an outside point of view would have thought. He always served as a hero in her eyes as he saved Mikey from the dark path he began to walk and how he constantly reminded her brother on how much his deceased lover, Sano Emma, watches over him and guides him to all the good things that happens in his life. He was an amazing guy and one that she wished had set her expectations for her taste in men, but her heart yearns for those who are completely out of her grasp.

“Just ask or else I’m calling Hina-san,” yn smirked as she brought her phone screen into view for Takemichi to see that “Hina-san <3” contact was pulled up and only one press away from being dialed.

“Oh, you bully!” Takemichi sighed dramatically, “I was just going to ask how long you have been into gilfs?” Draken choked on his drink and Pah-chin was patting his back in hopes of easing the rough coughs. Everyone at the table began to cause even more ruckus with tears of laughter as yn sat there dumbfounded.

“w-what,” she scratched her head and looked around the table in hopes of someone taking note of her clear ignorance at the word that Takemichi had claimed her to be attracted to. Since no one answered, she decided to speak on her own, “what the hell is a gilf?” Much to yn’s dismay, the table went silent for a brief second before bursting out into an even louder fit of laughter. “Well?! What the hell is it?”

“Yn, love,” Smiley spoke between hiccups and giggles, “it’s the same thing as a Dilf or Milf, but for old people.” After he finally finished his sentence, he leaned against his twin and laughed even harder.

“I-,” yn stood up and threw her dirtied napkin and spoon at the man who made the joke, “I’m not attracted to gilfs you fuckin idiot.” Yn moved behind Takemichi and put him in a headlock, “what made you even think to say that ya CD sellin’ pervert.”

“Oi,” Draken said from above her, “let ‘Mitchy go or else I’m taking you back all the way to Fukurodani and asking them to volunteer you for the summer school tutoring.” Yn dropped her arms in defeat and made her way back to her seat. “And you,” Takemichi looked up at her brother with a teary-eyed smile, “go clean your hair up before your wedding. It’s in three days and anyone can tell you pick at your split ends during your down time at work.” Draken laughed as Takemichi’s expression turned into a pout and he began punching Draken’s solid abdomen.

“Oh,” Angry stood up abruptly, “yn, could I see ya outside really quick?” Despite his rough tone, everyone knew he was asking in the kindest way possible.

“Yeah, sure,” yn got up with a pout and made her way to the exit with Angry trailing her with a hand on her mid-back. She was confused as to why they went outside at such a fast pace, but she just assumed that Angry wanted peace and quiet away from the others. “So,” yn smiled at the younger twin, “what did you – why is your face angrier than usual?” She titled her head at the man but he was quick to grab her hand and guide her towards his bike.

“Hop on,” he straddled the seat and waited for her to do the same, “don’t worry, Draken texted me to take you back to me and Nahoya-nii’s shop. So… hurry up, please.” Souta stopped her right before she got on and placed a helmet on her head, “safety first because I’ll hurt you if you get hurt,” he said as he proceeded to adjust the straps enough to keep her safe and comfortable. “Get on, Princess,” he kicked up the kick stand and took off fast out the parking spot.

“So – uh,” yn spoke aloud as they arrived at a stop light, “why did nii-chan tell ya to take me to the shop… I wasn’t done eating.” She felt her stomach rumble and she pressed her cheek to Angry’s leather cladded shoulder blade and readjusted her grip on his waist as they began moving towards the backroads to get to the Kawata’s Ramen shop.

“I’ll make you a bowl when we get there,” he relaxed his upper body so yn wasn’t laying against hard muscles, “and we left because everyone kept staring at you.”

“Psh,” yn rolled her eyes, “they were staring because I am a strong, independent woman who managed to put a MAN in a headlock like a bad bi-.”

“Enough of your ‘bad bitch’ talk, I believe you, but I promise you that was not the reason.” Angry spoke through a breathy laugh, “the cook and the table in the corner was kept looking over you. Don’t you think it was weird how when they brought our orders out and Draken said your rice was missing an egg and the cook came out and apologized himself?”

Yn pondered on the question for a bit but then shook her head gently and nuzzled inbetween the center of Angrys’s back, “no, to be honest, I thought that the cook just hates when he messes up. It can’t be that deep, yanno? Oh! Maybe they mistook me as an idol?” She felts Angry’s laugh bubble from his chest to his shoulder blades; Souta’s laugh honestly made her feel like her jokes were genuinely funny to listen to.

“Hate to break it to you,” Angry brought the bike to a gentle stop as the arrived towards the ramen shop, “but you don’t present yourself as the ideal image of the idol you probably think you are.” Yn joined Souta in the small fits of laughter as she gently punched him in his side.

“Oh, shut up,” she let out a soft breath as she hopped off and carried the helmet with her as she made her way to the employee back door. “Open up, yeah? ‘M reeeeeally hungry.”

“Already ahead of you, ya dumb brat,” Angry bumped his hip gently against yn’s and unlocked the door and pushed her inside. They placed their helmets and jackets off in the staff room and made their way towards the kitchen where she sat at bar stools and Angry started up the stove to boil a few eggs and moved to chop up some green onions. “You want beef or chicken, idiot?”

“Sheesh, souta-kun, if ya wanted to marry me – just say that,” Yn teased as she propped her head onto her two hands, “your terms of endearment have been getting sweeter and sweeter by the minute~ but! I do want chicken please, been not feelin like eating cow and pigs lately.”

“Yer annoying,” angry threw a small, chopped onion at her, “in your dreams I’d marry you. Plus, I KNOW I’m not your type. You go for mechanics with burn marked boys that work with your brother -,”

“OKAY, NOT NEEDED,” Yn pressed her face to the counter, “asshole… He’s my type, but I’m not his. He’s like, Makima and I’m Denji… please tell me you understand that because it’s the best I got.”

“I understand it, and I just want to say that that is the most tragic thing I have heard from you in a while – oh, but back to the restaurant,” Angry said as he slid a small chocolate mochi from out the freezer and towards yn on a cute, small plate, “there was a customer who went into the back the second he heard that your order was wrong. I thought it was weird because what cook comes out that frightened when they get someone’s order wrong, but then your brother texted me saying that every man there had their eyes on you as if they were in charge of watching your every move. At first, Hakkai noticed some of the men sporting a ‘Bonten’ tattoo on their wrist, so we thought maybe they were after Mikey, but then Mitsuya texted us when he went to the bathroom that he heard some of the guys saying your name. Once that was said, Draken immediately told me to take you away from there… I do have a question for you though.” Angry began whipping up the ramen in the most tasteful way and side-eyeing the young ryuguji, “did you by chance get into it with a few Bonten member’s when you first got here? Is that why you’re all bandaged up?”

“Souta,” yn felt her heartbeat pick up but remained composed, “nothing happened with what ever ‘Bonten’ members… you know how weird some gangs are…”

“I trust you, brat,” Angry’s frown deepened once he noticed that the eggs were ready to be cut and the chicken was ready to be fried, “I just don’t want to lose another family member, okay? We babies have to stick together.” With that, he paid no mind to the situation, making a small mental note to tell Draken that one of the members there probably just thought yn was pretty. “Oh,” Souta looked back at yn, “one more thing.”

“Y-yeah, of course,” yn snapped her eyes to meet his gaze, nervous that he might have picked up on the fact that she lied about not coming into contact with any members when she first arrived, “what’s up stinky?”

“Just be careful,” Angry passed her a water bottle, “don’t trust anyone who isn’t in our toman family; especially not a Bonten member. He’ll take you in, manipulate you into believing you can’t live without him, and sell you off with no cares in the world. That is, if you’re lucky enough not to be killed in the middle of the street for entertainment.” Souta turned back around to finish up the ramen.

“Yeah,” yn felt a chill go down her back, “I’ll be careful… I promise.” She honestly didn’t know how to feel, after all, she just met with the man who presented her with an unrequited love, another man who made her heart yearn to lurk into the depths of the shadows, and someone whom she considered family just told her that one of those men would lead her onto a road of misfortune. Lost in her thoughts, she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled on it and felt her stomach drop as she was greeted with two notifications.

Draken bacon >:D : You okay kid? We’re heading to the restaurant right now, ‘m sure nothing was wrong – just wanted ya to be safe. me and inupi there in a bit, the other boys are getting stuff together for our dinner tonight. don’t annoy angry too much <3

Tani-senpai <3: why did you leave so soon pretty girl? Didn’t mean to alarm you, but I sent your picture to quite a few of my juniors and underlings, delinquents if you will – just wanted them to know not to touch what isn’t theirs. N e Wayz, I have time now, do you want to call now?

Were the gods telling her to remember her caring brother’s rules on men or to listen to faint voice of curiosity that lingered in her young and ignorant mind?

Previous Song | Playlist | Next Song

Taglist: @richiyo @haitanigigi @chifuyusprincess

ryozoro©