#Mistaken Fall au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 1 month

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 7)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

You watch him like a hawk after that.

Not because anything’s changed. In fact, nothing’s changed. Seeing him drag a man by the collar of his shirt, the look in his eyes punishing and severe, has only confirmed the essential imbalance in your relationship. You don’t suffer the same fate as that man being dragged from the bar not because of mercy or leniency or forgiveness, but because the truth hasn’t yet come out. You’re safe because the truth is still hidden, a fact that could change at the drop of a hat.

The thought makes you wary. You watch John in the days after with a scrutiny that borders on the paranoid. Does he already know? Has he left you stewing in ignorance all this time while waiting for the proper authorities to arrive? When he looks at you, does he see the blood on your hands? Does he know that he’s looking at a murderer? Does he know that your sins weigh on you like heavy stones dragging you down into the earth?

Every time the porch steps creak, your heart turns to stone and betrayal rushes up your throat like acid, and it burns.

Then the door opens and John walks in. His face lights up when his eyes fall on you. “Hi darlin’.”

All you can do is let out a shuddering breath and slump into his embrace.

You’re waiting for it to happen. Even when he pulls you into his chest at night, a big arm settled around your waist and his palm spread wide over your belly, you tense and wait for the truth to come out. But all he does is sigh and fall asleep, tucking you closer into his chest. You stare at the wall until the grooves between the wooden boards start to expand, the darkness encompassing every inch of the wall before bleeding down to the floorboards and up to the ceiling. Then you wake up and it’s the next day.

The truth is imminent. It shines its light on the darkened path before it and stalks forward. You cower in the shadows waiting for it to find you, hopeful that it won’t. Sure that it will.

There’s never a good moment to pack your bags and leave, and the longer you stay—as the days turn into a week since you first disembarked from the train and wandered into a town soaked in russet and red—the harder it seems to get a moment of peace. Though John wasn’t exaggerating when he said that a sheriff’s job never stops, you hadn’t thought that it would involve so much.

Between chores and John and the townsfolk, you can’t get a moment to yourself. The closest you come to it is when Kate leaves you to your thoughts while she helps the customers. Even then, she still comes by every now and again to offer you a tea or brandy ball to suck on.

You resent the idea that you need to be babysat, but he isn’t exactly wrong either. You’re not too stubborn to admit that. Under Kate’s watchful eye, you aren’t scurrying off anywhere. Instead, you help out around the shop where you can, offering to stock the shelves and sweep the floors. On occasion, you even get on your hands and knees in front of the shop to pull up the weeds, but that draws more attention than you’re comfortable with. They simply aren’t as concerned with weeds out here.

Most of your time is spent loitering around town waiting for John to take you home. Sometimes you join him for the day, trailing along after him when he goes out to collect the taxes or you accompany him when he has to attend trials and hearings in the court house, where you sit quietly in the public gallery and watch in rapt attention as the magistrate conducts the court proceedings, but there are days where that’s simply not possible.

“You’re gonna spend the day with Laswell, alright?” John tells you, pinching your chin to tilt your head up.

He loves that little gesture, you’ve realized. Loves to touch you and guide you with a hand on your back or chin or arm, a hand brushing down the side of your waist to pull you in, gripping you by the nape of your neck just to hold. Even now, in broad daylight and in front of the window to the general store where anyone could look out and see the two of you, he keeps his thumb there, reluctant to let you go. The thought makes your neck go hot.

“When will you be back?” you ask.

“Later this afternoon—before dusk, so don’t go worrying about heading home without me. I have to see to something a few towns over.”

“Oh…what do they need you for?”

John frowns. “You’ve got an awful lot of questions today.”

“Never mind. Have a safe trip.” You don’t know why his reluctance to tell you anything frustrates you so, especially when he has good reason to, but even you can hear the way your voice grows petulant.

His thumb squeezes against your chin, holding your head in place when you try to turn away. “I’m overseeing a hanging. Couple of men were found guilty of murder.” He studies you so intensely that he can practically see in your eyes the way your stomach turns at that. “See, I thought that might upset you. This is why I didn’t wanna tell you, darlin’.”

“It’s fine,” you say, swallowing. “I’m a big girl.”

“Yeah,” John agrees, brushing his thumb up your chin until it tugs at your bottom lip, watching the way it snaps back into place when he releases it.

He makes every moment feel like a last goodbye and a homecoming. You almost can’t meet his eyes under the intensity of his stare, but you also can’t look away. Not with how he looks at you like some precious thing.

You expect it before it happens, but when he dips his head to plant a soft kiss on your lips, you go breathless for a moment. His beard is bristly against your skin, just south of coarse. The kiss turns into another, even more tender than the first. You resent the way you lean forward when he pulls away, chasing after him.

“You be good for Miss Kate, okay?” he says, waiting for your reassurance.

“I will,” you rasp, mortified at how easily he unravels you and how plainly you let it show. John grins when he hears the tremble in your voice.

Then he leaves, riding off towards where the horizon dips below the visible and you watch until he disappears completely, falling away with it. Kate beckons you inside after that, and it’s just hot enough out that you gather up the skirt of your dress and follow after her, climbing up the steps to the general store.

Kate is a tough nut to crack. She’s kind and never rebuffs your questions when you make conversation, but she also isn’t exactly forthcoming with personal information. She seems more than happy to let the conversation lapse into silence. When there isn’t a customer to serve, she’ll take out a leather-bound notebook and write, going so deep into her own thoughts that you sometimes need to call her name a couple times before she’ll respond.

“Kate,” you say again, waiting for her to finally blink and look up, which she does with only the faintest glimmer of impatience in her eyes. “Care to join me on a walk? I need to stretch my legs and…well, I don’t know my way around just yet.”

She snaps her book shut, winding a bit of string around it before placing it back beneath the counter. “There’s a restaurant on the other side of town if you care for a bite as well. I could do with something to eat.”

It’s not as much of a walk as you might have expected. You learn along the way that Kate has lived in town for several years, taking the shop over from her predecessor, a former employer prone to drinking and prone to expiring from that very same vice. She speaks of him with familiarity and affection for the dead, but none of the longing and misery that you’ve come to expect from someone grieving a loss.

“You came far just to find a husband,” she remarks when the two of you are seated at a windowside booth in the restaurant. She spreads a cloth over her lap and you follow her lead.

You bite your lip. “I’ve heard good things about the frontier.”

Kate looks amused by that. “Now who’s been lying to you?”

You laugh, half genuine and half to keep the atmosphere light. You don’t tell her that no one lied to you about going out west because no one had said those words to you in the first place. There hadn’t been enough time for a conversation after the event, only enough time to unlock the study door and wash your hands of the blood in the sink downstairs before fleeing the manor with only your purse and cardigan, the feather duster still lying on the floor upstairs. You hadn’t even bothered going home.

There’s no telling what your aunt and uncle must have thought. You try not to think about that because there’s no going back now. You had the luxury of a single cry on the train as it chugged away from the station and the day slipped into night, but nothing more than that and nothing since.

You tuck into your food when the waitress comes back with your meal.

“John said you were a schoolteacher before this?” Kate says, pulling you back into the conversation.

It makes you nervous to lie too much about a subject you hardly know, so you smile and nod instead of responding.

“You must be quite the polymath,” she continues, eyes downcast, not allowing you a good read on her. “Arithmetic, writing, history—goodness knows the skills one needs nowadays with the leaps and bounds in education. Thank goodness for the Common School reformers, giving women the opportunity to develop young minds.”

“Yes,” you croak, then clear your throat. “I certainly did my best to…educate the children.”

Comical, given that you’d dropped out of school at the age of fourteen to work in a factory sewing buttons onto shirts.

“And was the profession enjoyable? I know John mentioned you were keener on starting a family than continuing on as an instructor, but was it an informative experience?”

“Oh yes, it was. I enjoyed it. Immensely.”

“It must have been nice to work in a profession with such little turmoil.”

“I couldn’t have asked for better,” you agree, your smile tight now, wavering only a bit at the corners.

Kate stares at you for a beat too long. It makes your stomach hurt and you fight against the urge to wilt under her stare. You can’t imagine you’ve said something wrong with how little you’ve said, but her stare makes your skin crawl.

Finally, she smiles, the skin around her eyes creasing. “Well, that’s just lovely to hear.”

You put the conversation out of your mind on the walk back, sure that you must have imagined the flicker in her eyes.

John comes back earlier than you expected. You swear your heart jolts in your chest when you hear the sound of a horse whinnying outside the shop out of nowhere and a man’s low, rough voice responding back, soothing it. You hear the sound of dismount, boots hitting the ground hard, and then come up the steps, each step making the spurs on the back of his boots rattle.

When he opens the door, his eyebrows jump up at the sight of you already there waiting. Your eagerness should embarrass you, and it does, but there’s not much you can do about it, and there’s even less you can do about the way you melt when he says, “There you are, darlin’. Time to go home.”

Precious is the world where home has come to mean something tender and soft, even as much as you’ve pushed against it. You still hold fast against the notion, steeling yourself when John helps you up onto Buttercup and follows suit, riding home at almost a gallop. You hear his laughter on the wind when you yelp and nearly slide off, his arm around you the only thing holding you in place.

“It’d be easier to ride if I had pants,” you complain when you dismount, hands pressed to his shoulders when he helps you down. “How do women even ride sidesaddle on their own?”

“Plenty of women do, darlin’. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“We can get you pants if you need them so badly,” John says, looking up to the sky like Lord help me suffer this woman. “But that means I’ll be teaching you how to ride Buttercup on your own. Think you can handle that?”

You balk at the thought. “…Let me think about it.”

He snorts. “You do that.”

He leaves you to your thoughts when he takes the horses out to the paddock for a bit.

You sit out on the porch and watch the sunset while the horses run around the pen, soaking in the last hour of daylight. Overhead, clouds as big as mountains pass, heavy like an oil painting. Off in the distance, you can see thick clouds blotting out the sky entirely, the belly of them split open and letting out a downpour of biblical proportions. You only grow a bit nervous when you notice the wall of rain moving closer to your house with the wind, inching forward more every minute.

It’s not long before John notices it too. He whistles for the horses and waits until they trot back over to the gate, fixing the lead to their mantles again and leading them one by one back into the stable. A light drizzle begins to pour. It churns up the dust and dirt when it hits the ground, scenting the air with the fragrant smell of earth.

You head over to the stable as John brings in the last horse, hovering by the door while you watch him run his hand down Buttercup’s muzzle, whispering softly to her. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t acknowledge it, his attention focused solely on her.

It gives you a chance to admire him from the back. Thick thighs in indigo jeans that seem almost painted on. Shirt tucked into his jeans, stretched taut at the shoulders; dark droplets of rain drying already. The dusting of hair on the back of his neck. You can see the fine lines on his forehead and in the corner of his eye from the side angle and it reminds you again that he’s older and more weathered than you, settled into his age rather than floundering in it.

“It’s raining,” you say, just to have something to say. You shrink under his gaze when he turns towards you, faint amusement in his eyes.

“I noticed.”

You cringe at that, aware that he knows. He’s the one that brought the horses in after all. There’s just something in you that feels compelled to open your mouth when he’s around. An impulse that makes you cheep like a bird.

“Looks like a bad one,” you mutter instead of shutting your mouth, instead of hightailing it back to the house and shutting all the windows to keep the rain from coming in. Useless girl.

“Probably rain all night,” John says, squinting out at the sky through the open door. It’s darker now, a storm brewing.

“Is there…is there anything we have to do? To get ready?” You don’t know why you say we like this is a partnership, but it comes unbidden and you know if he told you to hurry back and take in the porch chairs, you would.

“Nothing to worry about. I’ll close up the stables and seal the windows—storm probably won’t hit for another hour or two. After dinner, we’ll turn in early.”

With a final stroke down Buttercup’s jaw, he steps away and moves towards you. You feel rooted in place again at his approach; the thought of taking a step back never even occurs to you. When he finally reaches you, he doesn’t hesitate to reel you in by your hips, drawing you into a deep, wet kiss that he breaks only when you whimper into his mouth.

“You feelin’ better about being out here?” he asks, low and intimately. “Looked like you had a good time with Laswell.”

“She’s nice,” you say, deflecting from the other question.

John hums his agreement, readjusting his hold on your waist until every inch of him is pressed against you. Your breasts are flattened to his chest, belly pressed to his; every hard inch of him, solid as an oak.

“C’mon, honey, talk to me,” he murmurs. “Have I been treating you right? You still have any reservations about marrying me?”

“Bit late for reservations, isn’t it?”

He clucks his tongue. “‘Course it ain’t. Won’t change anything, but I still wanna know.”

It’s hard not to consider the possibility of being honest with him for a change when his gaze borders on the devout. No one in the history of time has ever looked at you like this, like you hung up the moon and stars. The thought chokes you up. In all the years of your life, has one other person looked at you and asked if everything was to your liking? John’s love borders on reverence, straddles the narrow divide between the telluric and the celestial, the earthly and the divine.

It’s dizzying. And you’re not built for subterfuge. Not built to lie to the one man that, despite everything, despite taking you from your former life by force, has offered you a new one on a silver platter.

You wet your lips, conscious of how dry your mouth suddenly is. John’s eyes follow the glide of your tongue over your lip.

And then you lie. “None whatsoever. I’m happy here.”

Maybe it’s a half-lie. After he shuts the stable doors and barricades them to keep the doors from swinging open in the midst of the storm, you wind up back on the porch watching the dark clouds up in the sky slowly approach, John at your back this time.

John tilts your head up into another kiss. You don’t know when you made the conscious decision to let him think you amenable to this relationship, but you cling to that thought desperately when his tongue licks into your mouth velvety smooth.

The roof extends out over the porch, keeping the two of you dry, but you can hear the sound of raindrops pelting the slate shingles.

“You’ll see, honey,” he says against your lips, the words rumbling through you, buzzing under your skin and making it tingle. “‘M gonna make you so happy. Never gonna even think of leaving me.”

The words dissolve on your tongue. Swallowed down dry. With his arm hooked around your waist and hand tilting your head up, there’s no way you could think of anything else except wanting more.

It’s hard to talk when he has you up against the railing, your dress pulled up and his fingers spreading apart your lower lips. It’s not the first time he’s touched you there, but it’s the longest he has, at least without the barrier of your underwear. His fingers spread your labia delicately, middle finger running up the wet seam. He hums into the back of your head while he does and presses a kiss into your hair.

“Always so soft and wet here, darlin’,” John murmurs, stroking his fingers up your inner lips and petting the sensitive nub at the apex of your sex. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been aching for it? Been waiting for you to give me the word.”

Waiting, he says, while tucking a finger into your sex, curling it up into you and chuckling under his breath when your hands clamp tighter on the railing and your back arches. Just a single finger feels like more than you can handle. John has thick fingers; thick fingers with calluses that you can feel on the delicate flesh between your legs. It plugs you up tight, more so when your core clenches involuntarily around his finger. His chuckle descends into a groan, then a sigh.

He pulls his finger out against the squeeze of your internal muscles, ignoring the way you whisper, “No, please” under your breath.

You only stop pleading for more when he swirls his finger around your pearl again, lavishing it with attention. “Aching? I’m not—”

“You are, darlin’,” he breathes, and now you feel him pull you from the railing, stepping back to take a seat on the porch swing. He pulls you into his lap, sitting you across it instead of with your back to his chest like he did in the bath the other day.

“Anyone could come by—” you hiss, fluffing the skirt of your dress out around your thighs when he tries to push it back up to get his hands back on your nethers.

“You tense up when you’re nervous, honey,” John cuts you off, forcing his hand back up your dress until he pushes his finger back into your quim, delighted to find it hotter and wetter, practically dripping onto his lap. “See, there you go. Just relax. I’ll make you feel good, darlin’. We’ll take care of that nasty ache.”

You pant through each pulse of his finger. You don’t even think about looking up to meet his eyes, not when he stares down at you with obvious adoration and devotion, the emotion splayed across his face. He looks entranced at the sight of you coming apart on his fingers, a flush high on his cheeks.

“No one’s gonna come by. Not this far out. ‘Sides, they know to keep their distance. Newlyweds need their space, right, darlin’?”

Supposing he’s right and no one comes out this way. Isn’t it still unseemly to do this out in the open? So far from your marriage bed? John seems incapable of relegating his affections to that space, unconcerned with propriety or modesty. You wonder with a spark of fear if he’d even budge if someone were to come trotting up the walkway on horseback or if he’d just wave them off and send them on their way. You don’t think he’s the kind of man to want an audience, thank the Lord, but he seems entirely unphased by even the idea of being intruded upon.

You melt when he shushes your worries, feeling you tense against him, and sinks his fingers in deeper, now another. Don’t fret, he murmurs against your temple, sighing softly. I’ve got you, honey. Ain’t going nowhere.

You aren’t, are you, you think wildly. The land around here goes on forever and the train whistles by only twice a week if you’re lucky. Then townsfolk know you by face and a false name, but that would be enough for them to grow concerned if they were to spot you heading for the train with your suitcases packed, and with John or one of his deputies always in town, there’s little chance you’d be able to board without one of them interfering.

Still though, it’s better than the alternative. For over a week now you’ve been on high alert, waiting for an arrest warrant to be slipped onto John’s desk with your likeness drawn on it, and for him to come collect you stone-faced and furious. It could still come.

He keeps you tucked into his arms and nestled close, shushing you when you hiccup and pinch your lips together to keep quiet. He lets you have that, unphased by the way you try to hide it, only tutting when you try to fight it, curling his fingers up inside you and rubbing a spot inside of you that makes it hard to breathe.

“I could just take it, but you’re gonna give it to me, darlin’,” John says.

And you do. Messily, noisily. Burying your face in his neck and sobbing it out, humiliation wrung out of you, squeezing out every drop. He smells like musk and old sweat, amber warm. Liquid gold. You press your nose into the skin of his neck and draw in a breath so deep that you go lightheaded.

John keeps his fingers tucked in you until you stop shaking, talking you through it even though you hardly hear a word. How could you over the rush in your head, the blood in your ears? When you open your eyes and look around, the sky is swollen and dark, the wall of rain

“C’mon, honey,” he says, pulling his fingers out and placing his hand low on your belly. “Let’s go inside.”

You sit across from him at dinner, eating under candlelight. The weight of his gaze for once isn’t stifling.

The rain only starts in earnest when he’s pulled the quilt over the two of you and pulled you into his arms. The rain pelting the windowpane dulls to a low roar when you turn over and snuggle deeper into John’s chest, pulling the blanket over your head. Tomorrow, the grass will be greener than the day before. You can feel it in your bones.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x you #john price x reader #price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #john price

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ladywuvly · 2 months

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barry sloane +au. +characters rec list!

masterlist. socials. recs.

head canons & imagines |

dbf!price boys your age by @captainfern

dbf!price shotgunning his cigar by @inkbybambi

dbf!price sugardaddy; part.2 by @faith369

bf!price headcanons by @empresskylo

landlord!price moving out by @gatorlovebot

husband!price darling wife by @ghosts-cyphera

honesty by @gatorlovebot - John doesn't like liars.

fixing your bad self-image by @sweetiecutie - You’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, so John decides to fuck some sense into your head.

tummy love by @stoutpancakes

truth or dare? by @soapyghost

don't disobey by @jawabear - A risky move on the field leaves the captain less than happy with you.

steady girl by @jawabear - John loves when you help him trim his facial hair. And he loves what comes after as well.

genesis by @moondirti - It’s the first time you truly see him – this much of him, anyway, and he’s startlingly younger than you would’ve thought. The progression of a spite-fuelled relationship.

eye contact by @kungfubarbie101

two is hardly a crowd by @grippingbeskar

how to disappear by @fawnpires - After a failed attempt at a date, you unexpectedly find yourself in the hands of comfort of your dorm-mate, also known as your captain.

bartender by @sky-is-the-limit

rings by @glossysoap

what’ve you done this time by @captainfern inspo; @bleuu-moon

just the tip, love by @floralpascal

home is the feeling of you by @maryangelex - You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise.

taking his time by @empresskylo

neighborly advice by @sky-is-the-limit - Your neighbor price takes matters into his own hands to finish what your incompetent ex could never. all in the name of good neighborly solidarity, of course.

cigar smoke and good sex by @lxvvie

helping hands by @deathsimage

break the rules by @bonitanightmxres - Months after breaking up, you and price agree to a “no strings attached” relationship to fill the void in your lives—but it proves to be harder than anticipated when you both start to catch feelings again.

how you deserve by @manmuncher777 Inspo; @sky-is-the-limit

fics |

never let me go 5/5 by @maryangelex - You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.

neighborly 5/5 by @391780 inspo; @hereforthepedrofanfic - You and your neighbor, john price, slowly getting to know each other over the holidays.

the rear window 5/5 by @391780 - spinoff! neighborly!pricepov stalker!price.

soft 9/9 by @391780 - Soap says dumb shit in a bar, Captain Price falls in love with a fat girl.

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam 2/2 by @halcyone-of-the-sea - fisherman!price x mermaid!reader.

take me home, country road 5/5 by @ceilidho - 1800s!price. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town. only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl

callsign: zero 12/12 by @cass-the-mess - 2 years ago you saved John Price from an untimely death, only to disapear without a trace before he could thank you properly for getting him back home safe. You show up again 2 years later to help the task force defeat a new enemy. Tensions rise as you show your true colors and navigate through unresolved issues that puts you and your new team at risk. Are you willing to finally open up or do you keep pushing everyone away to keep yourself "safe".

marigold 7/7 by @captainfern - dadsbestfriend!price (pretty much anything and all things from this masterlist.)

disclamer! none of these are my works all credit to the authors. I just loved them so much figured I'd give them a shoutout!

#ladywuvly. recs.#captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #captain price smut #captain price mw2 #captain john price smut #navi.#nsfwcontent #18+ mdni

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blue-mood-blue · 5 months

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I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

#scum villain self saving system #svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #airplane shooting towards the sky #this got more into the feelings than i thought it would #surprising no one #anyway just! childhood friends au! as a reason for a shen yuan insert!#obviously he is not going to die as a child in this version #shang qinghua would not have that nope not again #also pls consider poor shen jiu who looks at this child that shen yuan has picked out for a best friend like '...really? that one??'#(it's up to you if he's shen yuan's actual brother from his first life)#(put there's a part of me that likes the idea that shen jiu also gets a second chance to spend more time with his brother)#a second chance for them to grow up together!#THAT SAID #RIP TO SHANG QINGHUA #WHEN SHEN YUAN IS OLD ENOUGH TO LEARN ABOUT ALL THE PAPAPA #the LOOKS shang qinghua is going to get #anyway here have a thing because I CANNOT add another au to my drafts thank you and goodbyyyyye

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inkykeiji · 3 months

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anonymous said: i just wanna sit down on sukuna’s massive thigh. is that so much to ask?? character: ryomen sukuna notes: anon, i want to ride sukuna’s massive thigh so so so badly!!!!! and so of course i had to write something!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, size difference, thigh riding, implied cureless!au, fem!reader, humiliation and degradation, toxic relationship, bit of noncon overstim right at the end words: 1.8k

It’s custom practice, at this point, that Sukuna places you on his lap whenever he’s engaging in an activity that requires sitting; when he’s working in his office, when he’s in a meeting (because his precious little baby is always with him, no matter what time or place or occasion), when he’s reading, when he’s lounging, when he’s eating.

It isn’t always in the same position; sometimes you’ll rest against him, your back pressed flush to his chest, one thick arm wound around your waist for stability; sometimes you’ll straddle his massive thigh, your face buried in his neck, lips painting strokes of saliva across his collarbone in messy little pecks, lashes leaving gentle butterfly kisses against his shoulder.

But irregardless of the situation and your posture throughout, if he’s sitting, you are there with him.

It is also customary that you behave while you’re in Daddy’s lap—no fidgeting or squirming, no whining or whispering, no complaints of boredom at all, and no getting down until he releases you.

So it’s not a shock, exactly, that a low, dark chuckle rumbles beneath his ribs the moment your hips begin to rock—barely anything more than shallow ruts, something that might’ve been mistaken for an innocent restlessness, had he not known better.

But he knows you much too well.

“I thought Daddy had a rule against wiggling, sweetheart.”

“Can’t help it, Daddy, swear I can’t.”

“Is that so?” he hums, flexing the muscles of his hard, defined thigh between your legs, snorting a little when you gasp. “And why is that?”

“M’horny, Daddy,” you whimper, nuzzling your cheek against the column of his throat. “Don’t wanna bother you, Daddy.”

“Oh? And what makes you think this isn’t bothersome?”

It’s not—you know it’s not.

Because as well as your Daddy knows you, you know him, too.

His four simple rules don’t exist because he can’t concentrate when you’re on his lap—he most definitely can. If there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about Sukuna in the short but intense time you’ve been his, it’s that he retains an exceptional amount of control over himself—body, mind, and soul—and it’s a fact he takes immense pride in.

Because, sure, Sukuna may live for the pursuit of pleasure, a hedonist in the purest sense, but that doesn’t mean he can’t control himself, his self-discipline and restraint sharper and stronger than a tungsten needle when he wants it to be.

His four simple rules are all about power.

Doesn’t mean they’re going to stop you, though.

Your hips are still shifting, cunt pressed flush to his thigh with only a thin layer of lace separating it from his pants, slit sliding along his firm, strong muscles in slow, hard strokes.

“Are you sure one pitiful little orgasm from pathetically humping my thigh is worth it?”

No, you’re not. One measly clitoral orgasm probably isn’t worth the hefty punishment that’s going to follow, but you’re too sleepy, too needy, to care.

An indistinct little noise vibrates at the back of your throat, head moving in ambiguous motions, rubbing thick cords of drool across his shoulder, leaving tiny webs shimmering on cashmere.

Your hips roll with more purpose, falling into a steady rhythm of rocking—back and forth, back and forth, smearing your cunt along the sleek muscle between your legs.

It already feels so good, using his thigh to stroke your clit in repetitive motions, the cotton twill of his trousers providing just enough resistance to make the friction delicious, a dull, dense heat flooding the pit of your stomach.

“God, look at you,” he scoffs, a peculiar mix of disgust and devotion saturating his voice. “Trying to fuck my thigh like you’re some sort of animal.”

Exhaling a snort, he jiggles his thigh in accentuation, sneering a little at the choked moan you try so hard to snuff out, pleasure clawing at your tongue.

“I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference to a desperate little slut, does it? My sick little girl will take whatever she can get, won’t she?”

Your head nods lethargically, smearing your own saliva over your chin.

“Aren’t you embarrassed to be acting like this? So eager, so ardent.”

“Jus’wan’ you, Daddy,” you slur out.

Because it’s true; you just want him, in any way you can have him.

Maybe you really are just a dirty, desperate little slut. Maybe it doesn’t matter either way.

“You know, I can feel your slick soaking through my pants,” Sukuna says, lips against the curve of your ear, dark, low voice reverberating against the cartilage—little tremors that snuggle into your flesh, skittering down your spine in a shiver. “It’s fucking disgusting, how wet you are from this.”

It is, he’s right, an obscene amount of arousal already staining his leg—far too much to be decent, to be normal, don’t you think, baby?—the copious amounts of slick making the grind along his strong muscles effortless, lace molded to your drenched folds and soiled all the way through, leaving a large gleaming patch on the material of his trousers, fabrics gliding together easily, aiding in your motions as your humping gains speed.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how fucking lewd your cunt is?”

You do, of course you do, vulgar squelching echoing out among the home office with every buck of your hips, sopping clothes sloshing together, procuring a sick sort of gurgling.

It’s so humiliating, salacious sounds complemented perfectly by his silky laughter, but you can’t stop, movements accelerating to hard, quick gyrations of your hips as you lose the friction of his pants, now too slippery to be anything other than teasing.

His derisive remarks, coated in icing sugar, do nothing to tame the blaze in the pit of your tummy, his voice like kerosene, flames flaring with every word that drips from his mouth.

“You’re so easy, aren’t you? Easy to please, easy to pleasure, all you need is something nice and firm to rub your cunt on, huh?”

“Feels good, Daddy,” you mumble against his neck with another clumsy nod, words weighted with spit. “Feels s’good.”

“Yeah, I can tell, baby,” he snorts. “Look at how fucking sloppy you are!”

Leaning back a little in his office chair, he looks down at where you’re conjoined, a soft whine slipping from your lips at the loss of his chest. A thick layer of sheen coats his thigh, turning the charcoal shimmery in the beams of sunset streaming through the windows. His tongue clicks against his teeth in a disapproving tut, as if it’s such a shame that you’ve ruined his trousers so terribly.

It really is, though, sticky substance having accumulated on his pant leg so much that it’s merely collecting atop the material now, unable to soak any further. You whine again, yearning to bury your scorching face, pricks of humiliation stinging your cheeks.

“I should make you lick it up, honestly,” he muses to himself, humming a little at the prospect. “Such naughty little girls should be made to clean up the messes they make, don’t you agree?”

Aside from the light notes of beguile infusing his voice, he sounds normal—calm and unaffected—and you’d think him to be, too, if you couldn’t feel his massive cock, hard and straining against expensive slacks, brushing against your thigh with each of circle of your hips.

It twitches a little with every gentle graze of your body, but Sukuna does nothing to pursue it, nothing to satisfy it or solve the problem, too focused on you to care.

Your arms wind around his neck, bringing him back to you with a discontented little mewl, and he laughs again, going willingly.

Always so needy.

You’re really riding his thigh now, vigorous enough that the wheels of his office chair shift against the hardwood, Sukuna planting his feet more resolutely, keeping you both in place, muscles pulled taut with the motion.

Damp little moans seep into the skin of his neck as your hips work, each one pushed from your throat on an airy little gasp, and he can tell that you’re close.

Because that’s so easy, too—you’re so fucking obvious with it, with the way your thighs keep tensing around him, almost as if they’re trying to readjust their grip; squeeze him tighter, hump him harder, siphon his thigh up further, urgently chasing that building high.

That heavy heat is amassing in the pit of your stomach, sinking into your gut as it grows with every swivel of your hips, hotter and hotter, higher and higher until it feels smothering, sweltering, engulfing you from the inside out and weeping through your pores, ragged little pants of his title exhaled from parted lips.

“You’re such a perverted little girl,” he murmurs in your ear, voice deep and decadent, tinged with just a hint of amusement. “What would everyone think if they knew how sordid that pretty little mind of yours really is? All of your university professors who praised you so much, all of your esteemed colleagues at work, how would they feel to know of your true nature?”

“They’d be disgusted,” you sigh out, almost dreamily.

A chuckle rumbles behind his ribs, rubbing his jaw line along your temple in a possessive caress.

“Yeah, they would. And you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re so sick.”

“Only for you, Daddy, always for you, Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he purrs, hands finally finding their rightful place on your hips, so massive the tips of his thumbs overlay your ribs. “Now be a good dirty girl for Daddy and make a mess all over his thigh, sweetheart.”

And that’s all the permission you need, really.

Oh, it’s so cute, the way your cunt clenches against his sculpted muscles, the way he feels your hole flutter eagerly around nothing as wet, sticky warmth floods his thigh, the way your clit throbs in time with it, pressed tightly to his leg.

You’re whimpering out his name, skin clammy and glittering with sweat, tiny dewdrops beaded along your temples catching in the waning sun rays as you snuggle into his jaw, pliant and languid.

But Daddy isn’t done with you just yet.

The hands on your waist flex, blunt nails carving deep crescents into the flesh—latched onto you, firm and stable, using his grip as leverage to force your hips to keep moving, even as they start to jerk.

A hiss is spit through the gaps of your teeth, sharp and sudden, whole body recoiling from the involuntary overstimulation. Shudders ripple through your flesh in vicious bouts as Sukuna aggressively rubs your sensitive cunt along his leg, pressing his thigh upward and grinding strong, defined muscle into your aching clit.

“Daddy!” you wail, clinging to him despite the agony, fingers twisting knots in his immaculately pressed dress shirt. “St—ah!—S��too much, it hurts!”

“Oh, poor baby,” Sukuna pouts, oozing condescension. “You didn’t really think Daddy would just allow you misbehave in such a manner and get off without some sort of punishment, did you?”

No, you didn’t; of course you didn’t, but—

“Quite stupid, my pretty girl is,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, spikes of ice prickling your spine. “You wanted to ride Daddy’s thigh, so you are going to ride Daddy’s thigh, over and over and over again until your cute lil cunt has been rubbed raw, until Daddy decides it’s enough.”

#sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #my gosh he’s so bIIIIIG

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yandere-daydreams · 10 months

Text

Title: Vampiric.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spiderverse).

Word Count: 1.4k.

TW: Vampire AU, Blood and Violence, Unbalanced Power Dynamic, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Implied Past/Future N0n///C0n, and Obsessive Behavior.

He came to you in the midnight hours.

You’d learned, by now, to wait for his nightly visits in privacy, to sit on the corner of your bed farthest from your window and listen for the distant sound of claws digging into wood, of a body dragging against stone, of nails scraping against glass as he beckoned you to let him in willingly. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, he didn’t need you to – your bedroom window crashing only a moment after you would’ve reached it, a pair of talon-doting hands wrapping around your windowsill before Miguel hauled himself inside, scarlet blood already dotting the collar of his white undershirt. Clearly, he’d already fed, tonight. His appetite had already been sated, which meant he’d only come to you to wash the taste out of his mouth.

The alternative would’ve been kinder. When he came to you half-starved, you could blame his violence on his hunger, his cruelness on his desperation. Whatever he did tonight would only serve his own twisted sense of entertainment.

He was grinning, too; crimson painted over his lips and dripping from his chin, coating his pointed fangs and spilling onto the fine silk of his tunic. With your back to him, your shoulder pressed into the plain wood of your headboard, you watched from your peripheral as he stepped into your bedroom, letting out a bark of a laugh and arching his back before stiffening, his smile falling in an instant with a sharp, venomous hiss. He didn’t flee or melt into a pile of ash and bone as you’d hoped, but only turned back to your window, catching the wreath of purple and white flowers posted above it on his claws. “Garlic blooms,” he muttered, crushing your wreath in his fist. The ruined flowers were allowed to drift pathetically to the floor, but you forced yourself to look away before they landed. “Trying your hand at botany?”

“Someone told me that garlic was good for keeping away for keeping away unwanted pests, but they must’ve been mistaken.” You didn’t move, didn’t turn, keeping your back straight and your hands wrung together in your lap. It was all you could do to keep your voice steady, to hide how much you wanted to buckle into yourself and beg him to leave. That’d come soon enough, when you were drained of all things good and vital and had only the strength it took to hold yourself. For now, you could play confident. “Tell me, would it be worth the time it’d take to hang a crucifix?”

You felt his weight on the plush of your mattress, your stomach turning as he grew ever-nearer. “I wouldn’t think so. You know how fond I am of holy ground.”

It was true, you did. You’d never be able to forget the night he first cornered you, the hours you spent pinned against the alter of an empty chapel as a beast you’d mistaken for a man buried his teeth in your neck and he forced his body into yours. For as long as he’d tormented you, you’d thought that night would be your final one, that he’d split you open and eat you alive before the sun ever rose, but here you sat, alive and breathing and still completely in the dark as to why he hadn’t devoured you, why he hadn’t left you in the same decrepit state as the rest of his mortal victims – a dried husk, barely a shell of a corpse left in a gutter or alleyway to be found by some poor soul the next morning. Your only guess was that he took more joy in being the ghost that haunted your every waking thought than the beast who would rip you to shreds the moment you stepped into the moonlight, and even then, it was hard to tell which fate was crueler. It was hard to tell if you were glad that he’d shown you mercy, or distraught that he'd chosen to keep you as a plaything, instead.

A bitter taste spread over your tongue. His cold breath fanned over your exposed back, and reflectively, motivated by the same instinct that propels the rabbit to writhe in the fox’s mouth, you tried to stand, to flee Miguel before he thought to bite down. You made it all of half a step before a strong arm caught you by the waist, dragging you back onto your bed and against Miguel’s broad chest. There was a throaty laugh, a flat tongue ran over the curve of your throat, and then, the fox put the rabbit out of its misery and Miguel sunk his fangs into your neck.

It hurt the same way it always hurt. The pain was sharp, hot – searing your veins as he bit into you, drawing a sharp cry from the base of your throat before you could hope to swallow it down. He held you like that for a moment, then another, your body pressed against his and his teeth burrowed in your flesh, before pulling back with a rolling growl, barely giving you time to draw in a ragged inhale before his lips latched onto his fresh puncture marks, his coarse tongue over the twin streams of blood. A thin trail of scarlet slipped past the corner of his mouth, only growing thicker as he nipped at half-healed ‘love bites’ and throbbing bruises too often abused to fade. His hand fell away from your wrist and rose to your collar, finding its way to the base of your throat and catching you in an inescapable grip, holding you steady as he drank from you. Sometimes, he let you fight it, took joy in pinning you down as you shoved and kicked and screamed, but he usually preferred a submissive meal. Tonight, he was clearly in the mood to pretend you were willing prey.

You expected him to leave after he’d drunk his fill, to pull away and slip back out of your bedroom window, but you were not that fortunate. Rather, he sunk lower, burying his teeth in the curve of your shoulder. The impact was dull, just forceful enough to bruise – meant more to mark than to maim. A love bite, in the place of a puncture wound – the former just as painful as the latter. “It’s like wine,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. You felt his hand on the collar of your nightdress, starting to drag the delicate fabric downward before he lost what little patience he still had. Before you could brace yourself, before you could think to bed him not to, your body was slammed against the wood of your headboard, his fist still wrapped around your neck, his claws still tearing at your clothes. “If I had less control, I would’ve drained you weeks ago.” His voice in your ear, his hands on your skin. He dropped lower, to your chest, and yet, you never seemed to rid yourself of the awful feeling that he was looming over you, consuming you. “You’re lucky that your blood’s not the only part of you that tastes so—”

“Please.” It was barely a whisper. Without his uncannily keen senses, it could’ve easily been lost underneath the sounds of his lips against your skin, underneath his throaty growls and stifled moans. Still, he raised his head, his scarlet eyes flickering up to meet yours as you went on. “Please, Miguel, not tonight.”

For a moment, he did not move, did not speak. You pictured, in a part of your mind you’d lost control of the day you met him, Miguel burying his talons in your chest, carving out your beating heart and making it so you’d never be able to deny him again, but the blow never came.

A small, teasing smile spread across his crimson-stained lips as he raised his head. He kissed you, the gesture gentle and lingering, before straightening his back and releasing your throat. “Not tonight,” he said, watching as you sunk into yourself. “But soon. I can’t let my amor spend their nights alone for much longer.”

You opened your mouth, but he was already gone – vanishing into the moonlight and leaving you covered in your own blood, shaking in the tatters of your nightdress, and already dreading his next visit.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yanderecore #yancore

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wandanatsgf · 2 months

Text

Masterlist

WandaNat x Reader

Sugar, Sugar AU

Part 1 Part 2

summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.

Wanda x Reader

While You Were Sleeping

summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular.

Right Where You Left Me

summary: Wanda is your maid who you fall head over heels for. But like all good things, you knew it wouldn't last. You knew your life was already decided for you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy your time with her while it lasts.

Why Won't You Love Me

summary: You can tell your relationship is falling apart, but maybe there's still some hope for it.

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 1

summary: Night after night you pray to the goddess of love with no response. After years of doing so with no answer, you become an unbeliever. Only after you have forsaken her does she make you a believer again.

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 2

summary: You wait for months for Wanda to return, and yet she never shows. Now you're determined to get over her, but a certain goddess won't allow that.

Natasha x Reader

Scream

summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

If You're Gonna Lie

summary: you know she's cheating, but you'd rather hear her lies than leave her

Kate Bishop x Reader

Taking Care of Her

summary: Kate comes home after a rough mission and you take care of her

Villanelle x Reader

Date Night & Murder

summary: What a date night between two assassins looks like

#wandanat x reader #marvel #mcu #masterlist #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #villanelle x reader #killing Eve

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avocado-writing · 15 days

Text

Astarion x Reader

Astarion x Mage Apprentice!Reader* & Pt2*

Mistaken Identity

heart, home*

chilly

Astarion x Rogue!Tav Headcanons

Astarion’s Pre-Cazador Love

Virgin!Reader Feeding*

Gentle Cuddles

Pampered

Scotophobia

Anchor

Fangless

Training*

Where He’d Take You In The City

although I was burning, you’re the only light*

Gale x Reader

Good Boy* & pt2

Karlach x Reader

Burn Heals*

Halsin x Reader

Sneaking Off*

Bred*

Wyll x Reader

Giving In & Part 2

Teasing*

Misc

Kiddo (Gortash & Reader, platonic)

Lists

Supportive Headcanons

Shy Reader Kisses

Reader Often Ignored

Short Reader

Ascended Fiend Raphael HCs*

Dirty Headcanons*

Socially Anxious Reader

Companions help Reader in Pain

Pregnancy & Parenthood Headcanons

Reader Waiting for Rejection

Reader Worried Nobody Would Want Them

Reader Wearing His Clothes

Roadtrip AU

Comforting Headcanons

Trouble Sleeping

Reader Who Hides Their Face & Female Companions

Reader Who Says They’re Glad They Met Him

Reader With Skin Condition

Reactions to Calling Companions Mummy/Daddy*

Reactions to Companions Calling You Mummy/Daddy*

Reactions to You Hiding an Injury

Reader Sad About Being Ignored

BG3 Men Reactions When You Tease Them*

Companions Realising They’re In Love With You Mid-Battle & Reverse

Companion Reactions to a Reader Who Can Change Sex

Modern AU Picnic in the Park

Bard!Reader Serenading Them

Reactions When You’re Self-Conscious About Your Laugh

Halsin & Astarion Realising You’re Strong

Reactions When They See You Self-Destructing

Birthday Celebrations*

When You Think Your Love Is Unrequited

Reactions When You Say Their Love Will Pass

Reactions To You Drinking The Elixir of the Colossus*

How Female Companions Go Down*

Reactions When You’re a Selkie

Reactions When You Become Dominant*

Companions Help You Get Fit

Rainy Day Cuddles

Reactions to a Reader Who Loves to Cook

BG3 Ladies & Breast Play*

Reactions to You Coming Out as Ace

BG3 Ladies’ Reaction to a New Facial Scar

Pregnancy Cravings

How the BG3 Ladies Cuddle

Companions Falling For You Mid-Performance

How the BG3 Ladies Talk in Bed

BG3 Men & Reader Who Can't Read

Reactions to Awkward Comforting

Saying You Love Them Mid-Argument

#bottom graphics by bhaalism!#bg3 masterlist #astarion x reader #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #shadowheart x reader #jaheira x reader #minthara x reader

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dungeonpuppykai · 1 month

Note

Since I don't see much of it,may I request a dark robber Bucky AU? That turned soft dark? It can be a home robbery. Or a bank robbery. Whichever's easier for you. But I feel like a bank robbery would be way more thrilling. Maybe he held her as a hostage and had his way with her. But then decided he wants to keep her for himself after all and add kidnapping to the list <3 Ski mask and all. Like the one Seb wears for his role in that Destroyer movie with Nicole Kidman. Except I want to request the long haired Civil War Bucky looking Bucky in this one. Just imagine how hot it is when he takes off his ski mask & reveals himself to her in all his glory with his long hair falling to the sides of his face and framing it perfectly. And reader is just stunned,because he's too beautiful. Again,if you want to do a home robbery instead,it's fine too. He went to rob a house but wasn't expecting the pretty little thing hiding under the blanket/in the closet. Decided to have some fun on his "quest" and had his way with her but had a change of mind and decided to correct his way, "moves in" with reader in her home and get a proper job now so he can finally marry her in the near future and propose to her with a diamond ring,one that doesn't belong to reader's mother/grandmother/aunt lol. And finally have that break,that normal life he's been craving for so long now and a beautiful wife by his side to spend his whole life with. Sorry if this request sucks,just haven't seen much robber AUs of Bucky so I thought why not? Okay,that's all I got. Whether you want to take it up or not,thank you so much <3 I'll keep enjoying your other works :D

so… um… idk if you know me or not but i am kinda known on here for being a mad slut… i hope you like it and please don't hate me if you don't i know i am greedy af. ill redo it with one of the scenarios if you don't like it <333

| Small World |

Pairing: Dark-Soft-Dark Robber!Bucky Barnes | Naïve!You.

Warning(s): Non-con/Dub-con, Dark!Bucky, bank robbery, violence, knife play, gun play, fear kink, unprotected p-in-v sex, missionary, doggy style, corruption kink, sir kink, power imbalance, Daddy kink, stockholm syndrome, he's lowkey mean, size kink, naive!Reader, virginity loss, fingering, spanking, dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

MASTERLIST

Panicked and horrified eyes turn to stare at you when you are pointed out of your group of hostages to stand up from your position on the ground. Some of your colleagues look at you with pity, others with hope and plea in their teary eyes.

Please, do it for us.

The greater good, and all.

Before you can decide whether you are the sacrificial lamb type or not, the masked man who has called out for you wraps one of his gloved hands around your arm and tugs you away from your group. Your meek and wheezed out requests fall on deaf ears as you are marched down the main hall.

“P- Please!” You turn your head to look back at his covered face with tear stained cheeks, head slightly shaking as your hands tremble beside it from their position in the air.

“I won’t repeat myself” the soft volume of the man’s voice can easily be easily mistaken for mercy if not for the menace in his tone. And the fact that he has the biggest stature out of his entire group –practically a giant- does not help your case. “Get the fuck inside or I’ll make you” he nods towards the door of the manager’s office, gun trained at you threateningly. “Move it.”

Within the next few moments, the man has you pressed up between him and the heavy wooden desk while he towers over you, toying with the loose strands of your hair with a little pocket knife that he has brandished out of his leather jacket.

“Please…” You helplessly plead in vain, thighs quivering from the way he rests his gun between your legs. Your shaking thighs tightly hug the barrel as the tip presses into the table.

“Aw, honey” he is relaxed and unfazed, almost as though he is unaware of the severity of the situation. Or perhaps this is more natural to him than you can ever know. A chill rises in your back as realization hits you. He cannot care less. “Why are you crying?” The man gathers a drop of your panic on the tip of his blade before bringing it to his mouth and taking a lick before humming at the taste. “I just wanna be friends… don’t you wanna be friends?” Your bottom lip wobbles as you shake your head stupidly.

“P- Please lemme go join the rest…” He sighs at your sob, disappointed.

“Out there with all those average Joes?” His teal eyes watch you from behind the mask as he traces the shape of your clothed boobs with the knife. “Oh, come on, pretty girl” terror fills you when you feel his hard-on rubbing against one of your knees. “You’re too special to be out there with those lowlifes, baby” your body freezes when the knife trails its way up your chest to rest on your bottom lip.

“P- Please…” A whisper shudders its way out of your still lips while your widened eyes watch the blade trail along the opening of your mouth. “D- Don’t hurt me, s- sir…”

“I won’t have to if you behave…” The tip of the weapon clinks against your teeth as the crown of his gun caresses your intimate part at the same time; having found its way into your pencil skirt. “So say, doll. Will you behave for me?” You would be a fool if you think that you have any other choice than to nod. “Use your words now, come on” his muffled coo is so soft it nearly triggers something inside you.

But before you can ponder over it, his hand thumps against your cheek to bring you back to the present moment and you find yourself instantly nodding again. "Y- Yes, sir. I- I'll behave for you…" Something scratches at you from deep inside, but the sickening stimulation that you're being subjected to keeps you bound in the present moment.

"Good girl" you let out a relieved exhale when he pulls the blade from your lips and now brings it to the buttons of your blouse. "Tell me, honey. Do you have a boyfriend?" Your cheeks flush despite the situation and you gulp, lowering your eyes to watch him bounce the stitch holding your button together against the sharp metal. "Or… maybe a little girlfriend?" You can't help but loudly gasp when the thread finally comes undone and your swells bounce into his view.

"P- Please, sir…" The man tuts and shakes his head.

"Remember, baby. I'll only be nice to you if you are nice to me…" As if to put emphasis on his words, he straightens the knife and softly pokes one of your boobs by sliding the tip inside. You can't see it but your hurried apology makes him smirk under the mask. "Now, then. Where were we…?"

"N- No, sir…" You softly sob, unable to control your tears. "I d- don't have a boyfriend…"

"Good girl" he speaks as if he knows you and like you owe it to him, his gun-holding hand disappearing inside his jacket to put the weapon away. Though the relief that washes over you at the sight is short-lived because said hand then comes to grip and caress one of your thighs… under your skirt. "You're too good for silly little boys" your mouth falls agape when he suddenly catches two more of your buttons in a single strike, making your boobs jerk downwards due to the sudden change in pressure.

"Please–!"

"Shhhh" his rough hands yank you closer and against him by the help of your ass, your clothed core colliding with his bulge as he now presses the wider part of the knife against your lips. "I won't remind you again, baby. I'll only be nice to you if you shut up and behave like a good fucking girl" his eyelids flutter a little when his hips move against yours. "Because you'll look just as pretty to me without a tongue as you do now, so make your choice" you freeze as blood drains from your face.

The man gives you a few moments to try him and then he hums in satisfaction when you don't dare.

"See, that wasn't so fuckin' hard, was it, baby?" Your eyes sting from how tears keep spilling out and down your face in thick streams, the saltiness pricking at your lips as you feel his knife cut your skirt open from the middle before he tears an opening in your pantyhose, groaning at the sight of your pussy before you feel the leather of his gloves tease your folds. "Fucking hell, honey. You've such a cute little pussy on you" you can no longer clearly see what he's doing due to your blurry vision, but the violation of your intimate parts leaves you devoid of any desire to do so.

Your mind screams at you to stop him.

No one should touch you.

You don't know why exactly, but every fiber of your existence is screeching at you to run.

Not so much to escape, instead to avoid being defiled.

But what match are you to an armed man who is thrice your size?

"It's so tiny and fragile, do you think she can handle me, huh baby?" His voice is heavy as he now pumps his huge leaking cock with one hand, hissing when he touches the tip against your opening to gather some of your slick before spreading it on himself. "You can cry as many of those pretty little tears as you want, angel. Your naughty little pussy is telling me everything I need to know" a sob leaves you at his words as you helplessly sit wide legged with your head hung low, hands resting flat on the table behind you like you had been instructed to do so a few moments ago, now awaiting the inevitable.

"Fuck" he can't help but roughly curse when your opening refuses to accommodate him and his thick tip slides off it a couple times. "A feisty one" he snickers casually like this is the most normal thing ever. "Good thing I am in the habit of taming–" his words abruptly disappear into a grunt that is accompanied by a jerk of his hips, the action eliciting a loud moan of discomfort from you, "–silly brats like this sweet little pussy here" your back arches as your features scrunch in discomfort, nails pressing against the wooden tabletop. Your pussy squelches around his cock as it is being pried open by his thick girth.

"Ohhh, sir!" You grunt and more tears escape your eyes. "N- No, no…" Your thighs tremble as you shake your head in horror. "N- No… This is wrong…" Your voice is barely a whisper but he seems to understand you clearly.

The man cruelly chuckles, the action causing vibrations to travel up your body from where they are connected. "But it sure feels fucking great, don't you agree?" The flat part of his knife digs into the side of your leg as he tightens his hold on your thighs and settles on a rhythm, hips rocking back and forth between the space of your legs.

Your arms give out and buckle in, causing you to land on your elbows as the loud squeaks of your pussy squeezing at the skin of his cock before letting it go with humiliating clicks only for it to repeat fills the air.

Your lack of response makes him snort. "What, you don't agree?" When you still don't say anything and just continue to stare at his ski mask, a competitive glint appears in his teal eyes. He brings the knife to your lips and holds it against them. "Kiss it" when your shoulders shake with silent sobs, his hips speed up and the blade presses harder against your skin. "I said, kiss it!" The harshness of his tone forces you to succumb to fear and you obey, nearly sliding up and down the table as you peck the metal. "Now thank me for fucking you" your lips wobble against the weapon but he is relentless as he pants for air in the mask, one hand tightly curled around your knee as your other leg dangles from the table.

"T- Thank you for fucking me, s- sir…" He twitches inside you with a satisfied growl, each thrust fucking into you deeper and deeper.

"Now tell me I am the best cock you've ever had" your head is splitting. You feel as though you are being pulled in two opposite directions. A chaos has erupted in your mind and you can barely register his demands anymore. "Do it!" The slap he lands on your boob breaks your train of thought but the hit triggers something inside you and you speak before you can think it over.

"Please, sir! He won't like it! I can't!" You have no idea who you are referring to and the way his eyes narrow down at you signals that he doesn't either.

Just what the hell is going on?

The entirety of today feels like one big Deja Vu.

"Who won't like it?!" His thrusts have turned animalistic but his voice is much less nonchalant than before. "You said you didn't have a boyfriend!"

"I don't!" You squeak out through your tears as your pussy clenches around him and your stomach flips over, the overwhelming sensation in addition to the cruel way in which his hips snap causing your elbows to give up at last.

"Then who the fuck are you talking about?!" Your shoulders knock over the stationary holder as you shake your head helplessly.

"I- I don't know!" His hot seed explodes in your tight cavern as you whine loudly, desperate to get away from the assault his cock is inflicting on your worked up gspot. "I don't know! I don't know!" You are at a puzzling loss of words. "But he won't like it! He won't!"

His concluding thrusts feel almost angry -not that they were much tender in the first place- as a string of muttered curses release from his clenched mouth, the man's long dark hair swaying over his broad shoulders every time he moves.

"Fucking hell, angel" he rasps once he has finally stopped, though he still remains inside you. "They really did do a number on you, didn't they?" His mask is nearly snatched off his face in the next moment to reveal the most handsome man you have ever seen.

Utterly remarkable features accompany the teal eyes that watch you angrily, shiny long strands framing them in the most attractive way as the wide shoulders of the man rise and fall with each furious exhale of his flared nose. His sharp jaw that is covered in light stubble is tightly set as he scans your face, fingers tightening around your flesh more and more with the passing second.

You feel your nether region blink against his cock as you numbly take notice of every detail that he has to offer. Your eyebrows furrow after a few moments when you realize just what you are doing. Then as your eyes begin to widen and palms find the surface of the desk to press against it in order to hoist you up, the realization of why you are doing what you are dawning upon you.

Your face is next to his within the next second, the discomfort of your joint bodies long forgotten as you reach a finger out towards his face to touch it.

"Oh, my God…" You whisper as you slowly trace out what the mask had been hiding and like a dam broken, a barrage of memories hits you so hard your vision falters momentarily. "No way…" Your hand falls limp at your side in shock.

"Small world, eh?" His grin glints in the dim lighting of the room.

. . .

A loud thump sounded right outside the door of your wardrobe and you couldn't help but whimper, the sound making you widen your eyes before you hurriedly buried your mouth in your fuzzy yellow blanket.

It was an ordinary Saturday night and you had been watching a movie when you had run out of snacks. So you paused it and got out of bed to grab yourself something from the kitchen but faint unexpected footsteps in the hallway leading to your room forced you to halt your quest.

Thankfully, you had made it into your current hiding spot just in time before the door to your room slowly opened and a huge figure stepped in, peeking around the room before it stilled in front of the TV. You watched through the slits of the doors as the mysterious man had put two and two together before beginning his search.

For you.

You slowly shifted a little to see better when he disappeared momentarily, but then he suddenly walked by the wardrobe and you had to stuff the blanket in your mouth to keep yourself from gasping. The man paused and scanned the room again. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as he turned towards your bathroom and vanished from your field of vision again. A door opened before clicking close and you sighed in relief.

Letting a few moments pass before slowly opening the door to a crack, you half turned to grab Kiki, your cuddle buddy and favorite teddy in the entire world from where she had fallen off your lap a moment ago. Though when you went to exit the wardrobe to find your phone and figure out your next move, you found a pair of teal eyes watching you from the crack you had just created, the shock causing you to jump out of your skin and land against the wall behind you with a loud gasp.

You clutched your blanket and teddy close to your pounding chest as you hid your face in your knees, shaking in fear as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

Some moments passed in complete silence before you felt hands tugging at your cocoon. "Please, please, please!" The most soothing voice you had ever heard responded to them.

"I'll be nice to you if you'll be nice to me" his words were the most convincing you had ever heard. "What do you say, angel?" You raised your head just enough to see a metal arm extended towards you.

"Please don't hurt me" you whispered through a wobble of your bottom lip.

"I won't have to if you behave yourself" his form towered you like a vulture hunching over its prey. "You're a good girl, aren't you?" Your furniture had given him some idea of the kind of person that you were.

And the rest Bucky wanted to find out for himself.

He had decided that he would have you before he had even stepped inside this room when the framed pictures of you with friends and family decorating the living room had caused a tent inside his pants.

"Use your words for me" you whimpered before slowly nodding your head.

"Y- Yes, sir. A- Am a good girl" he hummed before thrusting his held out hand in your direction.

"Come on, then. Don't make me repeat myself" the menacing edge to his tone made you gulp and comply before the minute's end.

You were slowly and carefully helped out and onto your feet. The stranger's silky hair rushed forth to frame his face when he lowered it to look at Kiki as she landed with a thump on the floor.

Holding your hand in a firm grip, the man bent to pick her up but didn't hand her back to you.

"And who is this?"

"K- Kiki, sir."

"Is she your… friend?"

"B- Bestie, s- sir…" Unbeknownst to you, his cock hardened at your choice of words.

Fuck.

"Do you want her back?" You slowly nodded with pleading eyes.

He hummed again before speaking. "There's a condition."

"C- Condition, s- sir?"

"You will be quiet and obedient."

You agreed, not that you had much of a choice but Kiki's wellbeing was your top priority.

The stranger placed you on your bed within the next few moments, pulling your blanket away and giving you a pointed look before threateningly waving the poor teddy in the air when a low whine escaped you. The warning was enough for you to shut your mouth as you curled your toes, flushing under his violating gaze that scanned your underdressed form.

You were clad in nothing but a tank top and some strawberry pattern underwear. The sudden shift in your body temperature due to the lack of a blanket made your nipples harden against the sheer material of your shirt and the man cursed under his breath before his free hand traveled to his bulge.

"Why don't you show me how well you and Kiki get along, huh, angel?" You eagerly nodded when the teddy was finally allowed back in your safe hold and you protectively hugged her before going to speak but his next action had you gasping in shock instead.

"Sir–"

The man clicked his tongue. "One little peep and you can sweep little Kiki from the hearth tomorrow morning" your eyes became glassy at his words, bottom lip wobbling. And then you inaudibly vowed upon your teddy's safety.

"S- Sorry, sir."

"See?" His breathing was labored when he stripped you of decency, spreading your legs to examine what was between them and inaudibly grunting at the sight. "That wasn't so hard now, was it, baby?" You shuddered and exhaled heavily through your mouth when his hand curved over the shape of your pussy, thumb swiping over your moist folds.

"N- No, sir." He clicked his tongue.

"You're too little for that, honey. Call me Daddy." Though questions emerged in your mind, you kept them to yourself for Kiki's sake. "Well?" He raised an eyebrow as his digit found its way to your entrance and he poked at it, the sensation causing you to jump up in shock.

But you knew better than to express it.

"... Y- Yes, Daddy…" The word felt foreign and awkward in your mouth, but the intrusion of your private areas overpowered every other feeling.

"Tell me how it feels, honey" the man's tone turned into one of coaxing as the tip of his thumb glided up and down between your folds before circling your entrance. But he kept it from invading your privates for now.

Your eyebrows were tightly furrowed together as you whined, nuzzling your face into Kiki. "W- Weird, Daddy" that seemed to please him, and he hummed in approval.

"Good girl" a loud and confused squeak escaped you when he pushed the tip of his digit up your glistening slit next.

"S–" the click of his tongue stopped you and you corrected yourself just in time. "Daddy!"

"It's okay, honey. Daddies are supposed to take care of their little babies like this" his thumb was soon replaced by his middle finger and you couldn't help but let out a moan when it began to toy with the hood of your clit now, his finger working you open all the while. "See, getting better, isn't it, angel?" It was nothing but strange for your inexperienced body. Your hips tightened but you had no idea what it meant or led to.

And the intimidating visual was not helping the puzzle.

"L- Looks so scary, Da- Daddy" your bottom lip jutted out as you sniffled, unknowingly clenching around his finger and making him twitch inside his pants in turn.

"Aw, baby" he could swear you were the most precious thing he had ever come across. "Too much for your innocent eyes to handle, is it?" He had to have you. "Daddy can help you with that" his finger plopped out of you and your hole retracted, a shudder running down your spine at both the feeling itself and the loss of contact.

A small pout made its way on your face as you snuggled into Kiki, subconsciously missing the penetration.

Bucky moved further onto his knees and grasped your naked thighs in his strong calloused hands. "Turn around for Daddy, angel" you were moved to your knees in front of him. He spread your legs apart before moving back to undo his own pants, admiring the handiwork that he had made of you all the while.

Then he told you that it would feel a bit strange at first, that it may even hurt, but then it was sure to feel good.

You panicked when he entered your narrow opening as he hissed out curses, his metal hand curling around your thigh while the other rested on your ass cheeks that it fondled every now and then.

His words that you had initially suspected turned out to be true the more he moved inside you. Your tight, warm channel of moist flesh gripped at his cock in the same way your arms bracingly choked Kiki, whines drawling their way out of your gaping mouth as you nuzzled your flushed face in her soft body, feeling a small flame ignite in the base of your stomach.

"Hnnng owwhh, Daddy!" You whined as stars clouded your vision when his thick tip hit you deep up your cavern in a certain tender spot.

"You're so fuckin' tight, angel" his breathing was laboured as his muscular thighs slapped against yours, the collision causing your skin to sting as well as fill the room with a loud clapping sound which was occasionally accompanied by a squelch or two. "It's like you were waiting for your Daddy all along, huh?" You winced when one of his hands wrapped around your hair to pull you back as gently as he could manage. "Tell me you were waiting for me to come along and fuck this pretty pussy broken" you yelped when his free hand landed a harsh smack to one of your ass cheeks. When you didn't respond, he gave a demanding yank to your head. "Don't make me repeat myself, now."

Bucky could see that you had some difficulty with carrying out orders.

So he added that to the list of the things that you would have to work on.

"I- I…" Your chest ached as you struggle to breathe, feeling your senses battle between pain and pleasure. "I w- was waiting for you to co–" your words dissolved into a moan as your form swayed under his rough fucking, "come- come, come and–!" Your fingers tightened around Kiki to brace yourself against the influx of sensation that burst out between your legs when he spanked you one last time before trailing his fingers down your pussy.

"Go ahead, baby" his lips found the crook of your neck before his sharp teeth grazed against the skin. "You're doing so well for me" your back arched when he pecked your skin right before biting down on it.

And all of a sudden, the sensory overload was too much for your fucked out mind to handle. Your hips clenched and a lava of what you could only classify as pleasure exploded between them, your vision paling and hearing becoming muffled, mouth falling open to let out raspy stomach churning moans. Suddenly, the intensity of every stimulus that had been tearing its way into your body decreased and a faint ringing swam in your ears. The skin piercing hammering of your heart morphed into heavy thumps and your body went limp as it hung from the robber's cock, being held up solely by the tangle of his arms that encircled your body.

Bucky felt himself twitch when your orgasm gave way to obedience and you guzzled out your words to fulfill your command. "W- Waz wai'ing for D- Daddy to come along and f- fuck my pussy b- broken" his curse went unheard by you due to your temporary vertigo.

"Now tell Kiki that" he had to tap one of your cheeks to bring you back to the present. "Look at Kiki and tell her that" the sternness of his words fueled the overstimulation that your core was suffering, the hypersensitivity causing you to clench hard around his girth that pounded into you at a barely registerable pace, your knees shaking uncontrollably.

"K- Kiki…" Your arms were jelly as you forced them to wobble the pink teddy up in your sight since your head was locked in place by the grip he had on your hair. "I- I…" You whined out a loud moan. "W- Waiting on D- Daddy to c- come and b- break l- little pussy o- open" the brokenness of your voice coupled with the omission of words reached out for his climax and pulled it through. Bucky loudly cursed out in between moans as he rammed into you animalistically, his seed searing into your worked up walls and coating the flesh pale.

You had never been praised the way you were that night when the man– Bucky, he told you once he had placed you in the comforting bath he drew for you, cleaned and washed you thoroughly as he pressed reassuring kisses to your tear stained cheeks. When he declared the next morning that he was moving in, you did not say much for he still intimidated you but you had your suspicions. However, as time passed and you two grew closer than ever, you realized that the transition had been much easier and natural than you had expected.

Your lover excused you from your outdoor obligations and gave you a list of rules to abide by to make sure you would well fulfill your role as the homerunner. He made a promise with you to mend his ways and he actually did it by finding himself an honest job that paid well enough for your household. Then, even though you reassured him that he could just give you your grandmother's ring to propose, he was adamant on buying you one with a big rock. One that would match the shine of your pretty eyes, he said.

In other words, everything was going well.

Yes, the beginning of your relationship had been unconventional to say the least.

But fate had a strange way of bringing people together.

That eventful night had been your share.

What did such silly things matter when the both of you loved each other so much?

That was, until one day…

. . .

"I told you, angel. I'd always find my way to you" the man speaks as he fixes his pants while keeping a vigilant eye on you.

Your mouth is wide as tears wet your cheeks like an unceasing waterfall. "Daddy…"

"Yes, Daddy" passive rage drips off his smug words. "You thought you could report me and flee the country and that'd be the end of it?"

You shake your head vehemently and sputter out all the words you can manage in your honest defense. Your labored breathing turns into sobs as you grab at his hands and plead your case desperately.

You hadn't reported him. You could never do that to your Daddy and future husband!

Not even in your worst nightmare!

What had actually happened was that you had been tending to your daily tasks as usual when some strange men with badges you did not understood had shown up to your house while he was at work. They were mean but they had not hurt you. Instead, they had thrusted all kinds of files and records in your face, saying unbelievable things about your Daddy that simply could not be true and then demanding you tell them where he worked.

But you were too little to know those things.

So they ransacked your house before one of them found a piece of paper from one of Bucky's jackets before showing it to the rest. Their boss had turned back to look at you one last time with pity in his eyes before he called someone on his phone and joined his fellow men in one of the sleek black SUVs that they had arrived in. Your Daddy had not come home that night. Instead, your sobbing mother who lived in a different city had approached you where you had been waiting for Bucky out on the front stairs of the house.

She had forced you away from your home. You kept telling her that you had to inform your Daddy of what had happened and that he never ate without you and that he would be looking for you. But your sweet mother had become a tyrant with your safety -like you needed it- and you just could not understand the hysteria until she placed you in therapy that you thought you did not need.

But when you finally did start responding to the kind lady at the funny smelling clinic, you had slowly understood your mother's manic behavior.

"... And she said you were a terrible man that I best forget all about and move on in my life, Daddy. I didn't mean to blank you out!" You finish your speech, squeezing his fingers earnestly as your eyes beg his to believe you. "I didn't want to. But they said you were bad and a criminal and, and– I didn't have a choice" you sob and shake your head desperately, the awareness of just how hurt he must have felt when you disappeared choking your heart out. "And they wouldn't listen and they kept saying that you kidnapped me and–" he doesn't interrupt you. In fact, he hasn't done much of that in the past few minutes.

But then a heavy bell goes off in your head all of a sudden and you understand why he has been quiet, the horrific realization causing your muscles to freeze and shrivel as you feel foam rising in your mouth. Your eyes widen to the shape of saucers as the pattering of your tears literally becomes audible in the quiet room. "... But… Y- You…" Your clammy fingers try to yank themselves out of his. "You… did kidnap me after…" Terror grips at your throat.

Unreadable emotion passes by his teal orbs faster than you can process. Bucky lowers his head as he restricts your hands from pulling out of his by interlocking them in an iron-strong hold. Heaving in a deep sigh, he snickers to himself humorlessly, the long strands of his hair falling over his face as his shoulders shake.

"Oh, angel" he looks up once he finally gains composure over what had turned into sneering chuckles. "You will have to relearn everything all over again, won't you?" Your body feels petrified as the graveness of the matter sears into your muscles. He tugs his gloves off before cupping your face with his metal hand. "Good thing we have the rest of our lives with no one left to trouble us this time, huh?" With a promising kiss to your lips, he pulls his mask back down and fishes another one out of his jacket before slipping it over your face. "Come on, let's go home" Bucky effortlessly hauls you onto one of his massive shoulders after he swipes your nose with his thumb on which he had poured a strange substance out of a vial. The liquid instantly numbs your mind and your eyes go heavy, not that your terrified body was moving much in the first place.

The next few things that you feel through your melting senses include Bucky pulling your tattered skirt down before giving a powerful smack to your ass, turning in the opposite direction of the way you had come here after exiting the Manager's office, descend the fire escape that he chooses to exit the building through before briefly jogging to what you figure is probably a vehicle since you hear the beeping open of a lock.

And then everything goes dark.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky smut #dark bucky x you #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes

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wangxianficfinder · 2 months

Text

In the mood for...

Feb 17th

~*~

1. I may have asked for this already at some point, but I do love it so... ITMF fics where an outsider misconstrues Wangxian's relationship. A great example would be "Happy Not Knowing", in which LXC thinks they're just friends with benefits. Another great one is "Every Mother's Son," where Madam Lan sets out to rescue WWX from suffering the same fate as her. Any misconception will do, I just want to see characters' baffled realizations that wow, these two really are disgustingly in love after all. @invisible-mirror

The F-Word by raspberrymocha (M, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Family Dynamics, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, Weddings, Engagement, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Sex, 5+1 Things, Heteronormativity) might count, where everyone believes Wangxian are just friends, when the two have been trying to announce their engagement

Marital Claims by yeolinski (M, 5k, wangxian, Lawyers, Established Relationship, Marriage, Married Life, Accidental Marriage, the juniors are interns, nobody believes they're married basically)

~*~

2. Hi (^▽^) this is for ITMF! I would really like to read something where the juniors find out about the past™/ what happened to WWX, and get angry for WWX(not at him!!), kinda like they are taking his side? I guess?? something like that, thanks, have great day (^▽^)/

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation)

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

Trust by FlyingMachine1 (G, 8k, WWX & Juniors, wangxian, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, BAMF WWX, Humor, junior quartet is the wwx fan club)

❤️ grow by cafecliche (T, 14k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Study, Post-Canon) A demon turns WWX into a child with only the memories of his childhood on the streets; the juniors take care of him while trying to break the curse, draw parallels to his adult behaviour patterns and we all cry; even Lan Qiren sniffs.

~*~

3. For the next IMTF: nephew reveal fics! Anything where JC finds out about Lan Sizhui, either as the primary focus of the fic or as a more-or-less significant plot point. Preferably ones where they end up with a familial relationship, or on the road to one. @linderel

Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not rated, 46k, WangXian, Junior Quartet Centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

and autumn comes when you're not yet done by tired (M, 36k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC & LSZ, Angst, Family Issues, JC's crumbling mental health, Death Wishes, Regrets, defence mechanisms, Projection, Post-Canon, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Depression, Feelings, Canon-Typical Violence) I haven't read this, not nephew reveal but sounds like it could fit

when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations) it's not the focus (only like three paragraphs) but it's my favourite JC reaction to the Sizhui reveal

~*~

4. For itmf. I asking for fics where LWJ groveling a little after WWX, doesn't matter the setting or if just a few scene.

Thank you.

Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You're an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, WangXian, Porn with feelings, College/University) is a good one! It’s a modern fic roughly 20k

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

~*~

5. Hiyaa. A) Can I have some books where it's of the Yin Hu Fu being turned into a child or children? Similar to The Unquiet Grave

B) ITMF some fics that are mostly wwx being a nie or just being besties with nhs while NMJ is a whole big brother to him :) @thatperson0-0

5B)

shades of grey spill from my veins (bleeding ink all over the page) by Reverie (cl410) (M, 58k, NMJ/LXC, wangxian, NHS/WN, POV NMJ, Canon Divergence, Joining the “Wei Wuxian raised by the Nie Sect” Club, Mentions of WWX’s life on the streets, Hurt/Comfort, Accidental Sibling Acquisition, Single Dad NMJ, NHS & WWX Friendship, Fluff, Humor, Happy Ending, Everyone Lives AU, Protective NMJ, Sunshot Campaign, Some angst, Blood and Injury, Kidnapping, Protective Siblings, Found Family)

Heart of the Beast by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 417k, WIP, WangXian, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious WWX, WWX Deserves Better, WWX Deserves Happiness, WWX, Deserves Love, Protective NMJ, Scheming NHS, Protective NHS, Soft NMJ, is So Done, NHS Is A Little Shit, Pining LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings)

The Light That Fails to Dim by glowingreverie (T, 310k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Gore)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks)

~*~

6. hi!! i hope you guys are doing well <3 I had a request for itmf, I was hoping you could rec some darkji fics? I don't mind any genre as long as there is no mpreg!!! thank you for all your hard work 💗

Like stones on an unseen board by Vir_Abelasan (Not rated, 11k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Teacher LWJ, dark twin jades, Age Difference, Manipulation, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Relatively canon-typical abusive Jiangs, WWX Get a Happy Ending, wangxian Get a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Clan Friendly)

~*~

7. Thanks for all your hard work ❤️

I have a request for the next itmf.

Are there any crossover fics with only wangxian and hualian from tgcf? I searched and they had bingqiu but i haven't read svsss yet or any other ship. I would really like to only read crossovers between mdzs and tgcf.

Thank you ♥️

~*~

8. Can you direct me to some wangxian fics that are beautifully written and have plot but also with smut?

build me no shrines by occultings (microcomets) (M, 54k, wangxian, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Hair Washing, Sentient Burial Mounds, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Light Angst, Flashbacks, mild body horror, foot washing, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy..., then sexual intimacy, playing fast and loose with mdzs lore, WWX learning to accept intimacy without deflection, occasional LWJ humor agenda, [Podfic] build me no shrines by flamingwell)

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, wangxian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror, Mystery, The intrinsic horniness of wound tending, Yearning 2: The Electric Boogaloo, [Podfic] 爱不释手; never let me go by argentumlupine)

🔒 Due Process by Kytrin, ShotsOfSunshine (E, 279k, wangxian, JC/LXC/NHS, JL/LSZ/LJY/OYZZ, Modern, Canon-Typical Violence, Foxxian, dragonji, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid WWX, Wwx identifies as male, Organized Crime, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of child abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Reincarnation)

curse of the dragon emperor by lulu_kitty (E, 96k, wangxian, Dragon AU, Canon Divergence, Mythology References, Identity Porn, Cursed WWX, Trans LWJ, Trans Male Character, Misgendering, Canon-Typical Violence, Gender Dysphoria, gender euphoria, Phoenixes, Curse as a Metaphor, Dragon WWX, Fox WWX, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Bottom LWJ, Dirty Talk, WWX Running His Mouth, LWJ Getting Bullied in Bed, Submissive LWJ, Trauma, WWX Has PTSD Minor Character Death, Prince WWX, Emperor WWX, Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Mpreg, Trans Male Pregnancy, Size Difference, Dragonxian has two dicks, YLLZ WWX)

🔒 the past drifts away with the waves by thelastdboy (E, 46k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, WIP, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Fall of Lotus Pier, Major Character Undeath, YZY Being an Asshole, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Major Character Injury, Amputation, Loss of Limbs, Transformation, Merpeople, Fierce Corpse WWX, Merperson WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, No Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cultivation Sect Politics, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Resentful Creature WWX, Undead Merperson WWX, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Revenge, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Resentment, Demonic Cultivation, POV WWX, River Spirit WWX, Non-Human Genitalia, Dark WWX, Monsterfucker LWJ, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, Wēn Remnants Live, Wangxian Get a Happy Ending, Sect Leader WQ)

~*~

9. I was watching a YouTube video where the tuber was talking about how all men in ancient China had facial hair like Teacher Lan did. I know that MDZS takes place in a fantasy China setting. Hopefully there are plenty of fics out there about Wangian growing facial hair and they both think the other is absolutely gorgeous. I would love to read about them. ☺️ @lizzybgood

~*~

10. Question for the next Mood For, dear Mods. Do you know fics set in the canon verse or similar where lwj goes (stays) violent / dangerous and maybe mad with grief after wwx's death, a menace to the cultivation world? Bonus points if he is still like that when wwx comes back. @tehanu1979

Only death awaits the ones who disobey by Siera_Knightwalker (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Dark LWJ, Angry LWJ, Minor Character Death, Adopted LSZ, BAMF LWJ, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Immortality, No noncon, The world only survives 7 years before Wei wuxian is emergencied back into it, Protective LWJ, Sad LWJ, LWJ Loves WWX)

~*~

11. not exactly sure how to phrase this itmf, but could you please rec me some fics of the BM fam hustling toward a better life? as a community, they farmed and built and made wine and clothes etc, so id love to see them interact with the people of yiling/similar (could be any other jobs, including entertainment or anything else)

thank you!

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Necromancy, Demonic Cultivation, farming, Found Family, Pre-Slash, canon-typical corpse desecration, Questionable approach to cutivation, Making Shit Up As I Go, Cultivation Sect Politics, Fix-It of Sorts, canon typical genocide mention, Burial Mounds, Yílíng Wèi Sect AU)

🔒the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

~*~

12. Itmf wangxian fics where jgy is a good person and supportive

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 46k, JGY & WWX, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death)

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, JC & WWX & JYL, wangxian, JC & JYL & JFM & YZY, not YZY friendly, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, not JC Friendly, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters, hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings)

The Wild Geese's Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, wangxian, LXC/JGY, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, all women live no women die, LWJ’s canonically intense feelings about everything all the time, WWX’s clinical depression gets treated and blamed on resentful energy, navigating gay marriage in ancient china by utiliizing class snobbery for your own ends, if you’re not sure whose fault anything going on in here is then blaming NHS is probably a good bet, WWX plays ‘summon LWJ’ it’s super effective!, the ‘unexploded cow’ approach to dealing with your enemies)

walk away from the sun by KouriArashi (M, 107k, LXC/JGY, LXC & LWJ, wangxian, LWJ & JGY, LXC & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort,vEmotional Hurt/Comfort,vDeveloping Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Politics, supportive brothers, supportive husbands, Canon-Typical Violence, Lan Family Feels, Everybody Lives, Eventual Happy Ending)

The Misadventures of Wei Wuxian in Cultivation Realm by makkurokuro93 (E, 77k, wangxian, Transmigrator WWX, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Courtesan LWJ, Courtesan LXC, Parallel Universes, Slow Burn, Good Person WX, Good Person JGY, BAMF CSSR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content)

🔒 omegaverse murder gremlins series by ShippersList (E, 203k, wangxian, LXC/JGY, rape/non-con, underage, A/B/O, nontraditional A/B/O dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Misunderstandings, Canon-Typical Violence, Spies & Secret Agents, Fake Character Death, Slow Burn, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, BAMF WWX, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canonical Character Death, Mutual Pining, Good JGY, Introspection, Self-Sacrificing WWX, Love Confessions, Protective LWJ, past child sexual abuse)

Peony to Lotus Series by Deriliarch (T, 72k, WIP, YaoLi, WangXian, ChengQing, Soft AU, Canon Divergence, POV JYL, JYL Lives, JYL-centric, Demisexual Character, Demiromantic Character, Slight pining, Arranged Marriage, Fix-It, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending, Marriage of Convenience, POV Alternating, Trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters--nothing huge, Trauma, Pregnancy, Parenthood, Fluff and Angst, Family Bonding, Anxiety, Courtship, Asexuality, Internalized Acephobia, Slice of Life, Flirting, Discussions on consent/relationship boundaries, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Past XiYao, Internalized Misogyny) Wangxian is pretty background here, the focus is JGY/JYL

Reluctant partner by sacrificial_fawn (G, 31k, WangXian, XiYao, Modern AU, Mpreg, Family Reunions, bonding over your shared trauma, Reluctant Bonding, Married Life, Supportive LQR, Past Miscarriage, Male Lactation, non-graphic birth, Intersex WWX, Slight OOC) this one is hilarious

~*~

13. Hi! First of all, I’m really thankful for you guys’ work! I’ve found some of my favourite fics through your account!

Do you guys happen to know any fics where teenage or war era wangxian meet adult (and married) wangxian? It can be time travel or anything honestly! I’m not particular about the details.

I’ve been trying to search for something like this but was unable to come across anything.

花无百日红; the flower that withers by yiqie (M, 29k, wangxian, Time Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Case Fic, Spells & Enchantments, Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, It's about the emotional catharsis, If you have ever laughed at WWX clowning himself for the 'no one will marry you' scene, This fic is: for you)

River Stones by littlesystems (M, 18k, wangxian, Time Travel, Post-Canon, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Junior Quartet, Oblivious WWX, Suffering LWJ, LJY having the time of his life, Voyeurism)

🔒 ripples spread out when a single pebble is dropped into water by RoseThorne (G, 1k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JC & WWX, JYL & WWX, WQ & WWX, LQR & LWJ, LQR & WWX, Major character death, Time Travel Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Future Character Death, Timey-Wimey, Truth, Honesty, Guilt, Crack and Angst, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc)

~*~

14. Itmf wangxian fics with

A) exhausted WWX and doting lwj

And B) your favorite most feet-kicking fluff

14A)

🔒we made space by MajorEnglishEsquire (E, 19k, WangXian, Getting Together, Sleep, Sleeping Together, Lap Sitting, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Adopted Children, Exhaustion, Happy Ending, Sex)

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

Red Flower With One Hundred Petals; Smoke Carried on the Blue Dusk Air by carolyncaves (T, 32k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Alcohol, Mental Health Issues, Angst, Tenderness, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, thoughts of death/dying, Rabbits, Caretaking, Marriage Proposal, Wedding Fluff, Family Feels, Literal Sleeping Together, Shotgun Wedding, angry wedding planner JC, Yunmeng sibling drama and fluff, physical affection, Terrible Parties, Happy Ending, for WangXian, i'd call it a 'significantly more optimistic' ending for the larger plot)

14B)

Hand in hand is the only way to land by so_shhy (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Meet-Cute, Fluff)

The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, WangXian, NieLan , XuanLi, Modern AU, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, Confused WWX, Happy Ending)

i’ll have you and you’ll have me by sundiscus (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposal, fluff with a sprinkling of angst (for flavor), i’ll have you and you’ll have me [Podfic] by Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard))

Setting in a Honeymoon by harriet_vane (G, 1k, WangXian, Fluff)

Some of You by tangerinechar (M, 60k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Actor AU, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Love Confessions, Matchmaking, Light Angst)

looking through a window by glitteringmoonlight (T, 5k, wangxian, modern, college/universtity au, outsider pov, fluff, humor)

🧡 A Study in Fluff by WeaverOfTheNight (T, 29k, WangXian, Modern AU, Ghost bunnies, Vet LWJ, Architect WWX, Kid LSZ, Domestic fluff, Modern with Magic)

~*~

15. heyyy admins, any suggestions on sick wwx and lwj takes care of him? thanks for your hard work lovelies! :)

between two lungs by fruitys (M, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, but also. Sexual Intimacy, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, but also! A Different Kind of Sleeping Together, First Kiss, Love Confessions)

I'm For You Now by phnelt (T, 5k, WangXian, Sickfic, Caretaking, Bathing/Washing, Comfort Food, Good Uncle LQR, it's a mild cold, low stakes softness, Domestic Fluff)

🔒 may your sunlit soul find its way home by puddingcatbeans (G, 10k, wangxian, JC & LWJ, Post-Canon, PTSD, sort of a case fic, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Tenderness)

🔒 Love in all forms, something tender by Vrishchika (T, 4k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ, WWX & LXC, WWX & LQR, Post-Canon, married wangxian, Established Relationship, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Feels, Sickfic, Sick Character)

Sick Bed Reserved In Gusu Lan by scifigeek14 (T, 14k, wangxian, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, sick/comfort, Healing, Illnesses, Fever, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Happy Ending)

Talismans by brooklinegirl (E, 10k, wangxian)

~*~

16. Hiiii for the next itmf I want fics with wwx wearing the lan forehead ribbon (like properly wearing it yk not in the ‘inappropriate use of the lan forehead ribbon’ way lol although I don’t mind if that’s part of it too), signaling he’s part of the sect cause he married in

Thank youuuu :D

~*~

17. I’m in the mood for fics that are long(ish) (about less 100k more than 30k) with plot but with not too much angst and that still prominently features wangxian relationship. Thank you for your hard work 💕

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (T, 39k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, WWX Loves To Teach, wangxian are married, Fluff, nonsexual intimacy, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication, this is HEAVY on the symbolism, Translation in Russian)

❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 46k, JGY & WWX, wangxian, canon divergence, child endangerment, JGS being JGS)

wide enough and wild by impossibletruths (E, 64k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Canonical Accidental Baby Acquisition, Families of Choice, References to Depression, Happy Ending, I Swear To God I’m Giving Them A Happy Ending, Overzealous Use Of Imagery, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Well Except WN But He Was Already Dead So, Fix-It of Sorts, [Podfic] Wide Enough and Wild by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)) this isn't super plot heavy, but there's some plot

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

186 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 14 all chapters

warnings: The Author is choosing not to spoil the chapters with super specific warnings, (honestly they annoy me, sry). From here on out, expect sexual content. This is a yandere fic. If you have squicks, you probably shouldn't be reading this. Ye've been warned. I love you all. Carry on. 😘

-However, when you get back to your hostel, you find the doors are locked. It’s not even that late, and they actually fucking locked you out. Only then do you see the sign outside that proclaims they in fact will do this at the ridiculously early hour of ten o’clock.

“Shit.”

Seemingly calmer now, John slings an arm around your shoulders against the night’s chill. “I’ll get you a room in my hotel;” he promises. “It’s my fault I kept you out so late.”

You would be a liar if you pretended you did not consider the possibilities of this arrangement.

John is staying in a beautiful old boutique hotel with an ornate carved stone façade and wrought iron balconies. As it turns out the room directly next to his is vacant. A miracle, considering it’s the height of the season. He takes you up to get you settled, and brings you one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

Somewhere along the way he’s lost his suit jacket and tie, and you are hypnotized by the sight of him in just his shirt, his trim waist on display.

“Will you help me with my zipper?” you ask. You’re not being completely conniving. A kind comrade at the hostel did assist you in getting dressed in your dorm room.

He helps you like a gentleman with no real funny business, pulling the fine fastening down. You know he can’t help but brush the bare skin of your spine a little with his fingertips, but it is a fight not to squirm with the desire that small touch ignites within you again, moist heat pooling between your thighs. When he finishes the gesture with a seemingly innocent caress of the tops of your shoulders, you burn.

You turn in his arms, feeling the dress falling down your shoulders as you do, and stand on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He freezes for a single moment before his arms wrap around you in answer, holding you so hard you fear your bodies might fuse. He kisses you like he intends to eat you, his tongue sweeping your mouth and warring with yours, his teeth grazing the swell of your lower lip.

A part of you wonders how long its been, since he’s touched a woman. Since his wife passed? Is that why his hands shake as they slide into your hair, pulling just hard enough to get your attention? His mouth finds the line of your neck, branding you with kisses on your sensitive skin. Somehow, your hands work just enough to undo the first three buttons of his shirt, before he catches your mitts in his.

“Wait…” It is hard to tell if it is a request or an order, caught between a pant and a growl. He kisses you again, bending you over backwards and stealing your breath away. “You have had a lot to drink, and I am trying to do this the right way, and I am barely holding on. Please, y/n.” He presses his forehead to yours, as though he can will you to understand what is going on in that mysterious mind by osmosis alone.

“It’s ok,” you try to soothe him, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want you. I want you so much, and for so long…” If he thinks this all was just a whim of yours brought on by too much alcohol, boy is he mistaken.

A yip of surprise escapes you as suddenly he lifts you in his arms, as though you weigh nothing at all, carrying you to the bed and pressing you down into the soft mattress with hands on your shoulders, breathing heavily. You reach for him again, starving little thing that you are, but he catches your hands in his. “Stop.”

Thoroughly chastised, you freeze. Again, there’s that steely tone. Wide eyed, you look up at him, his hair a wavy mess from your fingers, his shirt half undone. He is beautiful, and there is something wild in his eyes that takes your breath away.

You are so confused. What did you do wrong?

He lets out a ragged sigh as he straightens, running his fingers through his hair.

You are soothed a little, when he touches your lifted knee lightly, running fingertips down the blade of your bare shin. With precise fingers he unties the bows of your shoes at your ankles, removing them from your feet and setting them on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The moment his hands are absent from your skin you whine, knowing you sound like a cat in heat, but absolutely too drunk on desire as much as booze to care.

“Shh,” he says, gentler this time. “We can talk about this in the morning. Right now, you need to get some rest.”

He touches your bare foot, tracing the arch, dwarfing it in his big hands, before turning to go. You sense you really are about to lose him for the night, and in your desperation you play your last card, not knowing where you get the cheek or the bravery to do so.

“But Mr. Wick…” you whine, and he freezes in his tracks. You can see the tension thrumming between his powerful shoulders, fighting with the decision to stay or to go. “Sir, haven’t I been a good girl?”

He turns back to you then, those burning dark eyes narrowed down at you. Just that single look floods you with a searing wave of heat, and you soak through your panties for the umpteenth time that evening. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the agonizing ache this man inspires between your legs.

You’ve never actually done this before with a man, but some woman’s intuition in you knows that at last, you’ve got him in the bag.

“Young lady, do you know what game you’re playing?” he warns, taking a step closer to the bed.

Maybe he’s right to caution you, but you’ve come too far now to care. “I need you.”

At least that much is true.

He lets out a shuddering sigh, taking the remaining step to bring him back to you. You reach for him as he bends down, but he catches your hands again with a tut-tutting sound. You are beginning to think he doesn’t want you to see what’s beneath his shirt—which seems absurd, because from what you felt he’s fucking gorgeous and frankly, way fitter than you.

“These stay here,” he directs, pressing your hands above your head. His tone is not harsh this time, but low, still unyielding as stone. You reckon he’s a man who is used to being obeyed. It’s not your strong suit, but there is something buried in you that finds this new game unusually titillating.

“Or what?”

This wins you a dark little chuckle that lifts the hairs all over your body.

“Or, else.”

Something in that last word makes you squirm, and again you press your thighs, the ache you feel there bordering on pain. “Okay,” you agree breathily, too crazed by lust to care how ridiculous you must sound.

Finally, his lips are on yours again, a soft kiss with the barest slide of tongue that only leaves you wanting more, your nipples drawn to painful peaks. You whimper as he withdraws to kiss your throat, then lower on your chest.

“Shh, you needy thing,” he admonishes softly. “Good girls don’t whine.”

Somehow you manage to catch your next little sound in your throat, though it still comes out a strangled peep. You feel him smile over your breast, before he gives the bodice of your dress the slightest tug. In your current state it’s all it takes to bare your pebble-hard nipple to him, which he kisses with tenderest care, flicking his tongue over the bud. It sends spears of pleasure straight to your loins, and in that moment you think you really might die from wanting this man. You writhe beneath him, and without thinking your fingers find their way to his hair, grabbing soft fistfuls of dark curls in your desperation.

Immediately, he stops.

“What did I say about those?”

Suddenly you are on the edge of tears.

“I can’t….”

He stands, and you watch with fascination as those sure fingers flick open the silver buckle of his belt. He whips the leather from the loops with a crack. The sound startles you, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. The tent in his pants is more than impressive, but there is a sharp glint in his eye, and you can’t help but worry a little about what he intends to do with that belt.

With the leather doubled in his hand he caresses the line of your shins. You cannot help but part your legs a little, and he smiles. It’s almost a cruel curl of lips, but you are a broken thing, and all you can manage is anticipation mixed with the slightest bit of fear for what he has planned for that designer strip of leather.

“You will,” he corrects you, looping the belt around your wrists and making a knot. It doesn’t hurt, but…you are genuinely trapped. “Where do these go?”

With a sigh you return them above your head.

“What was that?”

“Here, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Those four words utterly wreck you.

He returns his attention to your bent legs, his fingertips ghosting up your thighs, higher and higher to disappear under the lace of your skirt. You sigh with relief when his fingers hook in the sides of your silk panties, slowly drawing them down your hips. He smiles wickedly at the damp little bundle in his big hand.

“These are ruined.” He sounds so very pleased about it as he slides them into his pocket.

“Before we even went to dinner,” you confess, and it’s absolutely true. The sharp look he pays you is a breathtaking mix of awe and hunger.

“You really want me so much?” There is an incongruous vulnerability in this question that tugs at your heartstrings, as though he can hardly believe it.

At this point, you might as well go for broke. Maybe he’ll feel less like he’s taking advantage of you if you admit, “I’ve missed you. From the moment I left I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

A pained sound escapes from low in his throat at hearing it, and he sits on the bed beside your feet, his touch agonizingly light upon the backs of your calves. He meets your eyes unwaveringly as he pushes your legs apart, gentle but exacting.

You are putty in his hands.

He ducks to kiss just the inside of your knee, lingering there as he looks down upon you completely bared to him. You are sure he can see your folds glistening and swollen, needing him with every iota of your being.

Yet he sits completely still, and the next sound you make more resembles a frustrated little snarl.

“Did you just growl at me?” You can tell by his voice that he is inwardly laughing at you.

Wondering what punishment that would entail, you hold your breath to stay silent.

He ducks lower then, nipping at the inside of your thigh with a harsh little suck, and you know there will be a bruise there in the morning.

“You’re like a fierce little kitten with her claws out. Big eyed and soft and so fucking adorable.”

You’re not sure if you like this or not, but his mouth continues downward, and as he nears the apex of your thighs you forget all about it. When his tongue touches your clit you make a sound like a sob; you’ve never felt anything so good in your life. He circles you slowly, paired with hard laps of the flat of his tongue, and you cannot help but arch into him. The sliding pressure of one of his long fingers inside you is heaven, and yet somehow, not enough.

“God, I want you,” you plead as you writhe against his skilled ministrations. “Let me cum on your big cock buried inside me?”

He makes a low sound deep in his throat in answer, the vibrations themselves are nearly enough to push you over the edge. You feel him shake his head no slowly in answer, his tongue a menace and a marvel as it kneads your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Please?”

You forget everything in the throes of your desire for him, maybe even your own fucking name, and that is when you make the mistake of moving your hands again, touching his soft hair with your fingertips to get his attention.

He looks up at you then, and you’re not sure how just the lift of an eyebrow can communicate such volumes, but as his eyes meet yours you know you fucked up.

He abandons you in your need, standing beside the bed again. You are too astonished to say anything, just watching him in pure agony. His eyes flick to your wrists, as though he’s considering leaving you trussed like a Christmas goose, before he releases the belt with two sharp tugs.

“We can try this again tomorrow.”

“John…” you’re finally able to protest, hating the broken sound of your voice, your every nerve at painful attention. “Mr. Wick…”

He doesn’t look back until he reaches the door, turning to look over his shoulder with his hand on the handle. He brings his index finger to his mouth, licking the juices you left there, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Don’t even think about touching yourself. That sweet little pussy is mine.”

Shocked and dumbfounded, you watch as he makes his exit through the adjoining door, and locks it behind him. You hear the click, and in all your frustration you throw a pillow across the room, certain he can hear your enraged little shriek.

He makes no answer, letting you stew in the anguish of your unfulfilled desire.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick x you #yandere! john wick #yandere #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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ceilidho · 20 days

Text

take me home, country road

[ao3]

first chapter >> last chapter

In the wee hours of the morning, you wake up to a man’s hands tilting your pelvis back. There’s a pillow propping your hips up, your cheek pressed to the mattress and rump high in the air. You must have been sleeping when he turned you over onto your stomach. Maybe you turned over in your sleep and he took advantage of the fact, hooking an arm under you to lift your hips up and stuff the pillow under there.

Either way, he has you right where he wants you. Rough hands spread the cheeks of your backside apart to give him space to lap at your sex from behind. The moment you feel his tongue part your folds and lick a line up the center of you, you panic. Sleep sloughs off you in a single rogue wave that submerges you before you swim your way to the surface, skin tingling and heart frantically beating in your chest.

Your memory of the night before comes back piecemeal, only the soreness between your legs registering at first. You kick back weakly, trying to rip yourself away from the stranger behind you. A desperate, panicked noise tumbles out of you when he doesn’t so much as budge.

The man pulls away from you just long enough to growl, “Quit fussin’—’s just me,” before giving you a tight smack across your rear.

You’re awake and present now, jolted forcibly into consciousness. When the sound of John’s voice washes over you, your panic abates. Not a stranger, not a stranger, just your husband. It quells the fear in your belly that threatens to spark off a wave of hysteria.

Then he runs his tongue up your slit again, his beard chafing the delicate skin of your sex, and you howl into the pillow.

Thick fingers stretch you open until you’re loose enough to take him again. He says as much in your ear before climbing over you and feeding his dick into your cunt. When his hips surge forward, hands braced on your shoulders to hold you in place, you choke on a gasp. He gives you no time to recover. The slow adoration of the evening’s love making is long forgotten, replaced by the mindless rutting of a ravenous man. He woke up with an empty belly.

You can feel his hunger when he bears down over you, holding you in place. The frantic pace of his hips. Hairy chest and belly to the tacky skin of your back. The lurid, wet sound of his flesh smacking against yours, thick cock spearing you open again and again. He bottoms out with every thrust, reaching a depth that feels impossible. All you can do is take it.

“John—” you start, but he reaches around to wrap a hand around your mouth, trapping the rest of your sentence behind his palm. Your cry comes out muffled, incomprehensible.

“Shh—just let me—” John grunts, trailing off into a groan when your walls squeeze around him. You can’t help it.

A disgusting thing in you is thrilled that he wants you this badly, that he loses control of his faculties this way. Trades in that veneer of a righteous man for animal lust. A sick deviance that you didn’t know you possessed raises its head and relishes in his need. It makes you cant your hips back to take him better, the new angle making you see stars.

You find yourself infuriated at being denied the chance to look at him, sweating and panting like a bull, muscled chest rising and falling with his breaths.

He’s too deep in the fog of exhaustion to say more than a few words. He’s mostly rough grunts behind you, breathing heavy into your neck, his sweaty palm still clamped over your mouth. He keeps it there even when your tongue lolls out and presses against his palm.

Everything is hot and dark under the cover of night. Frustration builds and builds beneath your skin as you can hear his breath grow labored, your husband on the verge of coming. Unlike a few hours ago when he had you on your back, the root of his cock doesn’t grind against your clit in this position, pulling you back from the edge every time you think you’ll tip over.

He sucks and licks at the skin of your neck, his big palm swallowing up your pathetic mewls. When he fits his teeth into the crook of your neck, pressing down lightly, you give a whole body flinch. Any shame still lingering in you melts right out.

When he comes, you feel the flood of warmth inside of you. The breath whooshes out of you when John puts his whole weight on top of you, forcing your body down into the mattress. He fucks you through his orgasm, the last few thrusts jostling you in his arms and making you cry out. Like he wants to make sure you take every single drop.

You lie there panting until he pries his hand off your mouth, stroking up and down your side. For a moment, you almost think he’s going to leave you like that, right on the verge of reaching your peak, unsatisfied. Then, your eyes go wide when he shoves a hand under you and gropes around until his fingers find your pearl, rubbing it until your breathing goes high and hitched, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

Your orgasm leaves you limp and sated. A mess in your bed. Too exhausted to even think about cleaning up.

“Thank you, honey,” John mumbles, turning your head with the same hand that just made you come to draw you into a kiss. “Needed that.”

You don’t have the energy to respond, so you just hum instead. You don’t know how long it takes you to fall back asleep, but you lie there panting and twitching until it takes.

The morning has you fluttering around the house all nervously, somehow unsure of yourself. It feels like there’s been a fundamental shift in your marriage, like the house has finally settled in place. The next couple days are much the same.

John just seems as self-assured as usual, almost smug about it. That drives you a bit wild.

He’s never been shy about touching you, but you hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back before. It’s like he can hardly bear to take his hands off you now, tugging you into his lap at night during his Bible study, something you follow along half-heartedly, your faith being more of a consequence of birth than anything. His faith is built on stronger foundations. You imagine he could quote verses from memory if pressed.

In truth, nothing changes in any significant way. All that worrying for naught. John still takes you on trail rides to show you the lay of the land, taking you out so far as to see the herds of bison and wild horses down in the valley. You watch them silently from a distance as they graze, sustaining themselves on wild grasses and forbs. Cloves, daylilies, and milkweed.

“Where are the bears?” you ask curiously. John snorts.

“I ain’t taking you out to see them, darlin’.”

In the evening after supper, John takes the horses into the stables and you offer to groom them while he sets up targets for shooting practice. He’s been insistent on teaching you how to shoot. It’s another skill that you otherwise might have gone your whole life without learning, but John makes it clear in no uncertain terms that you’ll learn.

Most of your shots are wildly off target, the birds in a nearby tree bursting into flight and taking to the skies when you accidentally shoot into the lower branches. You wince. John just laughs, showing you how to reload your gun.

Just like with learning how to ride a horse, you wake up in pain the following morning, moaning when your husband nudges you awake. He’s familiar enough with the sound of your pleasure to know that this is anything but that.

“Think you’ve earned a week off, bug,” he says, turning you over onto your tummy and massaging your shoulders.

You sigh. “Thank goodness.”

John laughs.

You squirm on the ride into town, muffling a yip when John pinches your thigh. It’s not your fault that the brute has been working you like a draft horse. When you tell him as much, he rolls his eyes.

“Think you can handle being on your own today?” John asks, his eyes locked on yours.

You’d roll your eyes if you didn’t think that would land you with a raw backside by nightfall. Over the last few weeks, he’s indulged your attitude more than a handful of times, relegating his discipline to a few curt words or a quick smack across your rump, but even you aren’t willing to test the limits of his leniency.

“Yes, daddy,” you quip instead. A little lip hasn’t hurt you yet.

You recognize the grave mistake you just made when you see the glint in his eye. “Daddy, huh? That right?”

You stare up at him blankly, struck dumb. “Uh. I didn’t…” The way he says the word makes your mouth go dry, mind empty. A desiccated tumbleweed rolls by in the distance.

John’s lip curls up into a smile. Your stomach flips at the sight of the hunger receding in his gaze, descending back down into the abyss. “We’ll talk about that when we get home.”

“You’re not leaving me with Kate?” you ask, clearing your throat. A desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from your unfortunate slip up. It’ll be a cold day in hell before John Price lets go of an opportunity to use your own words against you though.

He must be feeling rather magnanimous though because he holds your gaze for a moment longer before saying, “Not today, m’afraid. She has business out of town for the next few days, so she has someone minding the shop while she’s gone.”

You frown. “She went on her own?”

“‘Course not—Kyle went along with her. Sure she’ll be pleased that you asked though.”

“She’s been nice to me,” you mumble, mollified. A bit embarrassed to be caught worrying about anyone other than yourself.

It’s not entirely unreasonable. You have a hair trigger worry cultivated from the life you’ve lived. The events of the last month have only worsened your disposition to fret. Though Kate carries herself with the quiet confidence of a woman fully capable of taking care of herself, you can’t help the way your stomach aches at the thought of her traveling between towns on her own. That lonely, deserted stretch of road.

“I’m not planning on leaving town today—got no reason to. Figured you might enjoy having a day to look around town on your own, but you just give me a holler if you need me and I’ll come running the second I hear you.”

You understand the bigger picture here. He’s not quite letting go of the reins, but he is loosening his hold on them, giving you some slack. A few weeks ago, you would’ve waited until he rounded the corner and then bolted for the train station, luggage be damned. Even a stage coach would have sufficed.

You can’t seem to locate that same impulse now. Instead, you find yourself nodding and then leaning up for a parting kiss. You almost feel a bit bereft as you watch John walk off. Almost lonely.

Without someone watching over you, you feel adrift. Lost at sea. It’s concerning to learn how dependent you’ve become on the company of others. Back home, there were stretches of days where your voice would go rusty from lack of use.

Now you feel strangely unmoored without someone within earshot.

You’d bet your bottom dollar that John really would come running if you were to shout though. The thought makes your heart flutter. You’re a far cry from the girl that came into town not that long ago. You can’t imagine how she’d feel about the notion—that all you need do is raise your voice above a whisper for the county sheriff to come running.

When you think of the lawmen you used to fear though, John’s face seems incongruous with the image in your head of a grim-faced sheriff chasing after you, rifle and handcuffs in hand. Not that he couldn’t be that man, of course, but it feels like a version of him far removed from the man whose bed you share.

The John you know stands behind you when he teaches you how to hold a gun and pull it tight into your shoulder. The man you know helps you up onto Buttercup’s saddle and guides you with a hand on your back and stomach to help you find your rhythm.

You shake the thought from your mind. You spend enough time around the man—you don’t need him occupying your every thought as well.

You take your midmorning coffee at the inn, catching up with the woman you met on your first day in town. The innkeeper gives you a perfunctory greeting upon your arrival before settling behind the front desk to tally up the week’s earnings and review the ledger. His wire-rim glasses slip down his nose whenever he has to bend down to better read his own notes. His wife notices as well, tisking at the tenth offense in as many minutes.

The coffee grounds are visible at the bottom of your cup when you see yourself out.

It occurs to you as you make your way around town that you know practically every person you pass by. Perhaps not intimately, but enough that you can hardly pass one of the buildings without someone stopping you to say hello. You bounce a baby in your lap at the bank, eat a slice of cake at the restaurant with the owner, and even stop in for a spot of tea at the courthouse when the circuit judge sees you pass by on your way to the library.

The camaraderie is disconcerting. You’ve gone the bulk of your life invisible, for all intents and purposes, and the attention you garner through your affiliation with John has you on edge. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it gets under your skin after a while. Perhaps it is unpleasant.

Your feelings are, as always, complicated. Knotted.

A former scullery maid could not hope for a better improvement to her life, but isn’t it unfortunate that it took someone else for the world to see your worth? You could resent them for it, all of them. But it’s pleasant to be sought after, lovely to share a conversation that doesn’t end in a command. How could you begrudge John for giving you that?

The library is quiet when you arrive. A simple two-room building situated close to the town church. An older woman fusses over you when you walk in, fetching you a cup of tea before showing you to a comfortable place to sit.

“Were you looking for anything in particular, dear?” she asks after handing you a floral print cup with a dainty little handle meant for no more than two fingers.

“Well actually,” you start, worrying at your lip with your teeth. “I was wondering if you might have anything…instructive.”

She blinks. “Instructive?”

“Yes, um…” You abruptly recall the story that John had concocted about your former life as a school teacher. The desire to reveal to this woman that you cannot, in fact, read suddenly stills on your tongue. “Poetry maybe?” The request comes out feebly.

She brightens, however. “Of course. I should have some Dickinson, if you’ll give me a moment.”

You thank her when she returns with a book that has clearly just been dusted off, streaks of grime still present on the cover, but when you crack it open, all you can do is stare at the words on the page hopelessly. While a few you recognize as words you’ve heard read aloud or seen on signs or on the front page of the newspaper, you can’t make heads or tails of the rest. All you can do is pretend to read, flipping the page every couple of minutes when the librarian happens to glance over at you.

Now is the moment of your discontent. It’s not long before you get up and tell her that you have to be on your way, thanking her profusely for her hospitality. You leave disgruntled though, upset that you hadn’t considered the implications of John’s story. Another fabrication catching up to you. It leaves you feeling restless, no choice but to wander aimlessly through town.

Despite knowing most of their faces and names, you feel indescribably lonely.

Your wandering leads you to the general store, where inside Kate’s replacement stands behind the counter and smiles politely when you come in. You contemplate turning right back around at first, but there are still plenty of hours left in the day and your plan to spend the afternoon in the library practicing your words is now in shambles, completely upending your schedule. You could return to the inn to practice your needlework with the innkeeper’s wife, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome.

You sigh. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be able to convince John to let you stay home alone. There’s plenty you can do around the house.

If Kate were minding the store, you would’ve pulled up a chair, but instead you duck towards the back of the store to peruse the aisles in peace. The majority of the shopwares line the walls around the store—buggy whips, horse tack, lanterns, pails, and various farm tools—but the few standing shelves at the back of the store hold a variety of foodstuff that you’ve never seen before. Canned goods and spices, dried food and tins of ground coffee.

Had you thought to check the pantry earlier, you might’ve been tempted to purchase something. You still have a half-full coinpurse in the pocket of your dress. It’s not as though you’re penniless.

You chew on your lip. You will, at some point, need to broach the topic with John if you don’t anticipate leaving for a while. You might as well have some spare change on hand.

The bell above the door chimes when someone else walks in, cutting off your train of thought.

At first, you pay them no mind. Tucked away behind the aisle as you are, there’s no chance of them seeing you. No reason for you to peek your head around and say hello. The floorboards creak under the weight of their boots with every step as they approach the counter. The sound of their footsteps has an interesting cadence, almost an arrogant swagger; you can tell that it’s a man. You can hear Kate’s replacement greet them.

The spurs on his boots jingle with each step.

Curiosity nips at you, but you stay rooted in place, fighting the urge to get up on your tiptoes to look over the top of the shelf. Your stomach churns though. Despite not a single word spoken, the atmosphere in the store feels tense.

“Pardon me,” the newcomer finally says, his voice a molasses-thick drawl, almost sticking to the roof of his mouth. It’s not a voice you’ve ever heard before. “I’m wonderin’ if you might be able to help me with somethin’, seein’ as how I just got into town.”

“However I can, sir. What do you need help with?” the shopkeep asks.

You hear the man take something out of his pocket and then unfold it, the paper crinkling when he spreads it out across the counter. “Name’s Graves. I’m lookin’ for a girl and wonderin’ if she mighta passed through town. I’ve got a warrant to bring her back east on account of a murder charge.”

Every inch of your body goes cold.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #price x y/n #captain john price

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okwons · 2 months

Text

overtime

♡ sunghoon ﹒ female reader genre office au soft thought fluff word count 300 warnings petnames — bookshelf

thinking about ceo sunghoon who secretly loves to keep you overtime. he would eye you carefully, his thin brimmed specs glinting through his office windows. he’s well aware you dread staying for more than what you signed up for, but how can one resist? it’s undeniable that you leave him utterly smitten; his cheeks reddening at even the tiniest details he takes note of.

if he could name a few, it would be the way your hair neatly falls over your sleek blazer, or how your eyebrows furrow in concentration whenever you’re typing something .. the list could go on.

“here’s the report you asked for..” your arm outstreches in sunghoon’s direction, handing him the papers you worked ridiculously long on. he would teasingly flip through each page; scrutinizing it.

“mm 3 pages? that’s not going to cut it, love.” LOVE ??? that couldn’t be right. your gaze was solely fixated on the ground; far too embarrassed to meet his eyes. you could already depict the sly look plastered on his face.

“what?” you’d finally ask in response, your heart suddenly palpitating. you tried convincing yourself that you might’ve just mistaken the words that slipped through sunghoon’s mouth. but for some odd reason, you yearned to hear those same words again.

“nothing, get back to work.” he’d softly mumble, suppressing a subtle smirk while pretending to be engrossed in his computer. he was hoping you didn’t notice the tips of his ears becoming a light shade of red.

maybe staying overtime isn’t as bad as you thought ..

@aoyaji @beomgyu-stan-present @okwonyo @byhees @dearise

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btsfests · 4 months

Text

𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Yea, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil: for these stories art with us. Let our prophets share their written word with you, and may you find yourself peeking into Heaven or Hell!

Fables coming your way January - February

♡ Title: After Dark ♡ Pairing: Ceberus! Maknae Line x Demon! Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Drama/Angst, Smut ♡ Summary: Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin are your guard dogs, willing to do anything for you. You run an elite casino within the human world, disguised as a human, but you can only get in if you've been invited. Seokjin and Hoseok have been thorns in your side for years, witches hellbent on sending you back to the afterlife.

As scripted by @jmvore

♡ Title: Carry It With You ♡ Pairing: Human!Taehyung x Guardian Angel!Jimin ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health, Angst, Smut, Fluff ♡ Summary: Broken beyond repair, Taehyung is convinced that the Heavens have forsaken him. It’s Jimin’s responsibility to show Taehyung that there really is someone out there who cares.

As scripted by @gimmethatagustd

♡ Title: Celestial Ruin ♡ Pairing: Fallen Angel!Yoongi x Angel!(f)reader x Angel!Namjoon ♡ Rating: 18+ | Dead Dove ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Angels and Demons, Angst, Smut, Corruption ♡ Summary: Just being in his proximity made my skin crawl. As if his tainted wings were contagious and I was putting myself at risk just being near him. Yoongi was corruption incarnate. Once revered upon his throne and now cast aside for the sins he committed. Inky wings replacing the beautiful gold they used to be. The sign of the Fallen. And the way he looked at me said he wouldn't be sinking alone.

As scripted by @remedyx

Read Now

♡ Title: Cursed ♡ Pairing: Demon reader x new demon Namjoon ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: supernatural, crack, smut ♡ Summary: You manage to royally piss off demon lord Seokjin and he punishes you by giving you the assignment no one wants - shaping hapless IT guy Kim Namjoon into a freaky deaky demon.

As scripted by @hamsterclaw

♡ Title: Did It Hurt? ♡ Pairing: FallenAngel!Taehyung x LostSoul!f.Reader ♡ Rating: MA ♡ Genre: Fallen Angel AU | Angst, Smut, Mild Fluff ♡ Summary: Cast from the Heavens and forced onto the mortal plane for breaking his Oath of Holy Divinity, Taehyung only has one way to regain his wings after his exile is up or forever be cast into the 9th Circle—save a lost soul seeking absolution. As his one-hundredth year in exile approaches, his desire to return starts to wane and the kiss of Hellfire grows nearer.

As scripted by @colormepurplex2

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♡ Title: Fall from Grace ♡ Pairing: Demon!Seokjin x Angel!Jimin ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Romance, Smut, betrayal ♡ Summary: The rules for angels and demons are simple and straightforward and can be summed up as don’t interact. It’s not Jin’s fault that he’s mistaken for an angel.

As scripted by @downbad4yoongi

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♡ Title: Help! An Angel has Fallen and She Can't Get Back Up! ♡ Pairing: Human!Namjoon x Angel!Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Idiots to lovers, angel summoning, fluff, humor, smut, crack ♡ Summary: Namjoon is satisfied with his life. He has great friends, a promising career, and feels confident he can face any challenge the future may bring. However, when he accidentally summons an angel while doing his dishes, he realizes he might be in over his head.

As scripted by @blog-name-idk

♡ Title: Lead Us Into Temptation ♡ Pairing: Demon!Hoseok x Human!Reader ♡ Rating: 21+ ♡ Genre: established relationship, demon possession, corruption, speculative horror, fluff, angst, smut ♡ Summary: Hoseok is as devout in his faith as he is dedicated to you, and the two of you live by a moral code of remaining pure and perfect – free from sin and temptation. But after Hoseok is stricken with a strange illness that changes him entirely, you wonder if the life you had before is truly the life you desire.

As scripted by @theharrowing

♡ Title: Mist of Chaos ♡ Pairing: Demon!Yoongi / Angel!Taehyung x f! Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Supernatural, Demons, Angels, Angst, Smut. ♡ Summary: The tales told in the night, that 'it is hard to find the light'. You learn that what you see isn't always quite right. You find yourself soul-torn in a mystic valley after an unexpected incident. Alone, however, you were not as an angel and demon cling your shoulders.

As scripted by @taegicity

♡ Title: Reborn In Sin ♡ Pairing: demon!jimin x fem!reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: dark, supernatural, fantasy, angst, smut ♡ Summary: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, he was a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

As scripted by @hoseokshobagi

♡ Title: Shadow of Mine ♡ Pairing: Demon!Taehyung x f. Reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Supernatural, Angels and Demons, Angst, Smut ♡ Summary: As one of the few humans in the world without a guardian angel to protect you, you’ve learned to take care of yourself - until you realize that perhaps you haven’t been as alone as you always thought.

As scripted by @sailoryooons

♡ Title: Talk to My Angels ♡ Pairing: human!taehyung and angel!reader, platonic ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, humor i hope?, angst ♡ Summary: What should Taehyung pick for breakfast? Which shoes should he wear today? Should he accept the job or look for something better? No matter the significance, Taehyung always turns to his angels for answers. So when he finds you - a real-life angel - the surprise isn't that he can see you or that he accepts your existence. The surprise is that he makes it his mission to send you back where you belong.

As scripted by @daechwitatamic

♡ Title: The End Of All Things ♡ Pairing: Fallen Angel!Jungkook x Human!Namjoon, (Past Taekook) ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Alternate Universe — Angels & Demons, Slow Burn ♡ Summary: He moved with a silent sort of rage that could be felt in the air. There was no mistaking what he was at this moment, entirely unearthly and terrifying. It wouldn't surprise Namjoon if the very ground broke under his feet, Jungkook's very being screaming, look at what I've become, look what you have made me.

He made his way through the crowd, cutting down his foes with precision because he did not move in unblinded rage, — it was grief.

or a story about what it really means to be human.

As scripted by @jknoah

♡ Title: Touch of Hell ♡ Pairing: Devils son!Jimin x m!reader ♡ Rating: 18+ ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort ♡ Summary: Finding himself exiled to the human world by his own father — the Devil himself, Jimin is stuck in a dilemma. Will the boy who stole his heart love him forever, or will he push him away after he finds out the monster he is ?

As scripted by @leohatter

♡ Title: Wish ♡ Pairing: Angel!Jungkook x Human!Reader; background Angel!Jin x Demon!Jimin ♡ Rating: PG-13 ♡ Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn ♡ Summary: When Jungkook's mentor goes missing, he travels to earth in search of him and when he gets into a spot of trouble, a kind human helps him out. Determined to pay them back Jungkook insists on granting a wish but…

How do you grant a wish for someone who doesn't have one?

As scripted by @madbutgloriouspond

#bts fanfic #bts fic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #bts collab #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fests #angels and demons fest #bts

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