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fallout4-reacts · 11 months

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Anonymous asked:

Ok so this is less of a request and more of a thought to consider. It bothers me that Danse doesn’t really comment on vertibirds going down/crashing/finding dead brotherhood in the commonwealth. It also bothers me that Hancock doesn’t really say much during the synth quest in Diamond City. Idk I feel like there’s a lot of potential dialogue that’s missing. Like Preston commenting on a settlement that’s been “improved” (hit all requirements for water, food and defense) should also be a thing.

do you have any ideas for potential dialogue that’s missing from the game? Again, not a request so don’t feel like you need to write anything, but just a good for thought.

Titan quest part 2! (Part 1 - 3)

Codsworth - Danse - Hancock - MacCready - Nick Valentine

Codsworth : It's easy to imagine that for a robot who is so concerned, he should have asked Sole how things went when they returned from the Institute without Shaun, but he didn't! He never mentioned the mission once! So, go find people in Concord, and then what happens to your life and family, nothing?

"I've heard that you've entered the Institute with triumph, Mum/Sir. Please explain what occurred to Mr. Shaun.

Sole comes to a halt while walking. They come to a halt in the middle of the street in front of their house and dump their luggage on the ground without looking up. Codsworth drifts gently towards them, concerned.

"Mum/Sir, what's happening? Did the young master suffer any misfortune?"

Codsworth is taken aback by Sole's uneasy, possibly insane, chuckle.

"Misfortune? It would be difficult to quantify that misfortune. To say the least, your youthful master is no longer young."

"What you're saying is terrible! A poor baby, raised away from is family? What happened? Explain!"

"He is no longer a baby, neither ten years old like I believed, but it has been several decades since his kidnapping. Shaun is now old enough to be my grandfather and the director of the Institute."

"How is that possible? How is that even conceivable? Actually, it's nervousness. Come home, unwind, enjoy a refreshing bottle of water, and I'll cook you a delicious meal. Things will get better. Then you could give me an explanation."

"Don't you get it, Codsworth? There are no more children to save. Shaun is the Commonwealth Boogeyman's leader, period!"

"I get what you're saying, however, I find it difficult to comprehend. I'm aware that I haven't always reacted appropriately to the odd world we currently inhabit, but this time I'm just asking for some time. Let me prepare a delicious meal for you, and then we'll have a more beneficial conversation."

Danse (pre-bb, after all others affinity dialogues) : Danse's acceptance of Hancock into Sole's company is completely illogical, but if he can find a way to accept Hancock for one reason or another (he is the mayor of a town and thus an important figure for the people of the Commonwealth), it appears to me absolutely impossible for him to accept Strong's presence without flinching.

"Recruit, it's time for a discussion."

Sole seems astonished as he turns to face Danse.

"Paladin Danse? I'm no longer a recruit, you know?"

"When I see you making such poor choices in your companions, I can't help but think that you should learn the Brotherhoods from the bottom up."

"What is the main point of this story?"

"You make synthetics your close friends, right? I could see how this Nick Valentine was an exception to the rule over others, and how he had been tremendously helpful in the inquiry to uncover your son's whereabouts. I may admit that your synthetic robot, even if it remains an abomination, is a medical tool that can be of great use. Your ghoulish mayor friend? He is a respected member of society, and an entire community relies on him; therefore, we cannot disregard all that at this juncture. Meanwhile, he's a formidable ally in Commonwealth politics. I can accept that as reasonable. I can even understand why you were branded with a bodyguard following your visit to the Institute, but I would be far more suspicious of this X6-88 than you are. But what about this abomination? You had the arrogance to bring this brainless, soulless beast behind you? I can figure out why he's still alive."

"Strong?"

"Don't consider the idea of naming this thing. Otherwise, please name him dead and shoot him in the head."

"Strong is not an abomination! Okay, okay, somehow. But he's not like other Super-Mutants, and he merits our attention."

"I just heard him at Sanctuary say he'd love a meal of fresh human flesh!"

"It's... he has a... sense of humour."

"He was dead serious. And I'm being serious when I say you should terminate your involvement with this vile entity right now, with a bullet in the head."

"I could never, ever hurt that poor bastard."

"So, let me do the dirty work myself, but please let me do it without wasting time!"

Sole loses their friendly demeanour this time. They no longer hear the humor and take the discussion extremely seriously, clinching their fists and imposing themselves in front of the Brotherhoods, even if the latter dominates them from the top of his assisted armor.

"Danse, if you attack Strong, it may jeopardise our relationship, I warn you."

"And please understand that you have already jeopardised our relationship. Did you not hear what occurred to Colter when I informed you? Do you not care about my feelings? You who said you and I were friends?"

Sole knows and grasps everything this time. The pain in Danse's voice is palpable, and they can't ignore what their friend is saying.

"I... understand how you're feeling better now, Danse. And I truly regret putting you in this situation. Strong, on the other hand, is not like the other Super-Mutants, and I refuse to gun him down. I will not allow you to do the same. But I am not deaf to what you are saying. I'm not sure if you'll ever comprehend my point of view, but I won't impose it on you in the meantime. I'm not going to bring Strong into your company or talk to you about him. Do you think you'll be able to live with that compromise?"

Danse crosses his arms, his face contorted with frustration, yet he takes several deep breaths and then lowers his head slightly.

"I'll try. I appreciate you taking the time to examine... my... emotions and my point of view. If you are sincere, I will endeavor to put closure to this crisis and never return to the subject. Please, however, do not haul him to the Boston airport!"

Hancock (romanced): It's a classic, and we anticipate it. Sole must kill McDonough since he is a synth. Not a single word, or so few. There is no doubt about Hancock's feelings. But I read a wonderful fanfiction on the issue (sorry, I don't have the reference here and couldn't find it, despite my best efforts) and I couldn't do better. So, I'm going to do something completely different. A fascinating detail about the perk. Yes, I am aware that there is no discussion about the perk, and precisely! When we get to the Ghoulish perk, it's charming and funny, but I feels like it could have a bigger impact on the game, and I think it may lead to an interesting scenario with Hancock, who has previously expressed his desire to see Sole transformed into a ghoul.

When Sole leaves the exam table, Hancock abruptly raises his head. Did he hear correctly? He couldn't have heard it correctly. Of course, he's still hallucinating as a result of the chems he takes. But they've been on the road for a while, and he hasn't consumed enough to cause hallucinations. He doesn't think. So, he must have misheard something. He can't hold back any longer when he and Sole leave the clinic.

"So, how's the great shape?"

"Hm. I'm sure you heard. Don't act innocent."

"I'm not entirely certain I grasped that; could you expand?"

Sole takes a deep breath but does not dare to look Hancock in the eyes.

"It appears that I have taken too much radiation over time. My few round excursions in the Glowing Sea have probably played a lot. Finally, all of this hints that, strictly biologically, I am no longer truly human, but rather a ghoul."

"Wow, Copacetic!"

Sole clench their fists and teeth, struggling to contain their rage.

"How dare you?"

Hancock eventually realises his error and shakes his hands in front of him, throwing himself on the defensive.

"Woh! Sis/bro, calm down! I didn't want to offend you in that way! Just recall what I told: it would be fantastic if we could turn you into a ghoul. We don't come across a million people like you, but you're here, and you're my only one. I never grasped how I could have deserved such a luck, but the thought that you had a time limit was gnawing at me someplace. Now? We postponed the date. Consequences? Just immortality—you don't even have a radiation burn, as far as I can tell. In fact, I'd be jealous. You had to be the first flawlessly preserved ghoul I've ever met."

His companion takes a deep breath before looking up at him.

"Do you not understand? I have become an abomination!"

"Cut your Brotherhood-assholery level in your speech. Was it phony of you to be so at ease with the ghoul guy?"

His friend's eyes widen in stupor, he swallows twice, and the information finally appears to go the proper channel.

"You...you're correct."

"Yes, I know I'm right! Who are you to whine when you have the best of both worlds? You have a gorgeous alabaster skin, fairly sparkly eyes, and all your hair, and yet you may join us in the third zone for poker on Thursday night. And the following Thursday, and every Thursday for the next several centuries. I'm telling you, you're the blessed star."

When Hancock's smile rips his face from edge to edge, Sole can't help but chuckle. They now have a far better understanding of the ghoul's vision, and they are beginning to recognise all the advantages of their situation.

"Moreover, you will never turn green again because a ferocious storm of the Glowing Sea comes to warm our ears. And you'll be able to plunder it—that famous electrician's warehouse that makes you drool."

"Okay, okay, you sold your product; you can now stop."

"I'm never going to stop! Now you'll be hearing me for years and years and years and... years."

MacCready (romanced): Okay, so I'm in the classic group here, but it couldn't be otherwise. It's an obsession; WHY DOESN'T HE GO SEEK FOR HIS SON? Okay, that would be a long absence, but is it worse than sending Curie to be changed into Synth for a few days? Come on, Bethesda, if you can spend days building a settlement, you can give Mac two or three weeks to pick up Duncan and relocate him to Sanctuary, Diamond City, or even Goodneighbor.

"Can I talk with you, Sole?"

His friend withdraws from their tampered-with power armor and wipes their hands on their trousers.

"Mac? Is there a problem?"

"A little bit, yes. No, but somewhere."

Sole frowns, unsure. They approach the mercenary to show him that he has their full attention.

"What exactly is it?"

The adorable little rat's face contorts in a grimace as he rubs his neck to ease his discomfort.

"You see, we've come a long way together, and I'm happy here with you, and we've made a nice little home and everything, but this home, for me, still feels a little empty."

Sole has a surprised movement, but it doesn't take them a thousand years to figure out.

"Duncan."

"There. I knew I didn't have to sketch you anything. Please bear with me. I am truly happy to have you here, but I will never be completely happy as long as my kid is not with me."

This time, Sole starts to worry about what will happen next, and they try to disguise their emotion for the sake of their friend, but he is too perceptive to ignore it.

"I'm not suggesting going back to Capital Wasteland. Well, not quite. We've made our small home here; the Commonwealth is slowly but surely becoming something nice, and I have no doubt that from here, it will soon become one of the safest places to live, especially with you, but that's reality. Duncan has been receiving the cure for a few months now, and I guess he have healed enough to keep up the journey. I'd like to go get him. Please."

For a little time, they are deafeningly silent. Sole appears to consider, or rather swallow, their emotions, and MacCready himself appears frail. Finally, he is the one who breaks up the silence.

"I know it's going to be tough. I'm already concerned about how long we'll be separated, but I'm sure you understand. After everything you've gone through to reclaim your son? I'm sure you can see why I'd do anything to get mine back. But I don't want to be pay from our relation. I beg you to bear with me."

Sole appears to be waking up. They shake their heads, place their hands on MacCready's shoulders, and grin warmly at him.

"Mac, you know I'm not going to argue! There's no need to beg; I understand. Sorry for the shock, but I knew in my heart that this day would come sooner or later. I admit that I was hoping for later rather than sooner, and that I could accompany you, but I understand. I, too, would not have hesitated if I could have gotten my son back sooner. Allow your soul to go in peace. But please, oh, please take care of yourself and return to me swiftly and in one piece. I'm eager to meet your son."

Nick : "I never want to talk about it again." Is that it? Is there truly no way back? Is that all Nick deserves after going through hell with us? "Nothing to worry about; I'll let you self-destruct and fall into another state of turmoil." No! No. Nick deserves to see some light in his miserable spirit and to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

"Can I speak with you, Sole?"

Sole can't contain their surprise. It's not that they don't want to talk to Nick, but Nick has been unusually quiet and taciturn since they came back from Far Harbor a few weeks ago. And Sole gets it. All of this: knowing he has a brother, discovering he has a restricted memory, and then witnessing that newly discovered brother die, sacrificed to appease a small mob. Even for a man (synth) as conciliating as Nick, it was far too much. So when he approaches Sole with the intention of talking, his friend cannot help but feel relieved and hopeful.

"I'm always there for you, Nick; you already know that."

"Yes, precisely," Nick mumbles, avoiding their gaze. "Precisely."

Sole encourages Nick to join them on their couch. Whatever he has to say appears to be gnawing him.

"What exactly is it?"

The detective sits down with a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I know I said I didn't want to talk about what happened again, but... yet here it is. I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was... it's difficult to figure out. That is a lot—far too much. You honoured me, though, precisely and at my wish. You have always respected me. You were a true friend. Since we met, you've been with me every step of the way through the dark depths of my existence. First, with your trust in my ability to help you in your personal search, then with your assistance with my files, and finally with your support with Eddie Winter. Then you joined me on this DiMa thing, looked for evidence, and handed it over to me. You let me process everything, draw my own conclusions, and make my own decisions. And, once again, in the face of the abyss that the future now represents for me, you stood by my side, as if nothing had changed."

"Nothing has changed."

"Everything has changed!"

Nick shakes his head vigorously, preparing to object, but Sole places a hand on his shoulder.

"You had a lot of doubt; now you have answers. Okay, with that, everything changed. What about the rest? You were not meant to be everlasting; nothing is, and with your way of existence, you risk breaking up before you reach the limits of your memories..."

"But I already forgot!" I forgot what happened with DiMa—

"And you rely on that to measure your memory limitations? But don't you see the problem in your logic, Nick?"

The detective cocked his head, intrigued. He has no idea what Sole was talking about.

"When you told me your story, you said you woke up on a pile of garbage with no memory of where you came from and that all you had were flashes of Nick Valentine's life when you realised none of this belonged to you."

"Yes."

"Where is the time laps? What we do know is that DiMA got you out of the Institute when they incorporated Nick's memory into your system, and you were extremely disoriented by the time you left. You assumed you were Nick Valentine, and you rejected that you and DiMA were related. Then DiMa knocked you out, and you awoke in your garbage pile at the exact same point, puzzled and unknowing that you weren't Nick Valentine. You remember the first human you met, your first night with them, the journey to Diamond City, how you made your place, how we met, and many other elements of your existence."

"But I forgot about some."

"Like everyone! What's the issue? Would you prefer to be more machine than man, remembering every detail of your life down to the second? Like a good program? But you're more than a program, Nick. You have a personality. You may be exceptionally bright, but you are what you are: a man trapped in a mechanical body. Okay, you run diagnostics; okay, I can't really imagine your perception or much else. But what about on a cerebral level? You are, without a doubt, a man in my opinion. And men forget. Period."

As Sole talks, Nick's eyes widen in surprise, and he appears to take some time to process all his friend has just said to him before extending a weak smile.

"God, what you're saying is true. I see that now."

For the first time in weeks, his smile broadens and reaches his eyes. Sole, who is always holding his shoulder, squeezes a little to offer their support and smiles.

"Then you'll turn into a grumpy old rambler. You poor thing, destined to live the life of a man."

"If you keep it up, you'll sink me again."

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 9 months

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Since Paranormal stuff(like Ghosts and like the Dunwich "gods", etc etc) canonly exist in fallout, does that mean, there many is like demons then to?

Now imagine if The Sole Survivor got possessed by a demon. What would the companions do?

Cait:

• Extremely against this whole experience. She had never been the religious type but right about now..this is the time she may start considering some kind of intervention.

•Kind of also the the type to just throw stuff at the demon..works with other things!

Curie:

•Doesn’t believe at all that sole is possessed. If it gets too extreme, Curie will implement the help of some settlers to restrain sole and sedate them for their own good. Now..if sole is granted supernatural powers because of their demonic passenger, Curie will-oh who am I kidding? You could float and she’d still write it off as some peculiar yet totally natural phenomena. She is a synthetic lady of science.

Danse:

•Much like Curie in this respect. When you start showing signs of possession his first instinct is to admit you to the med bay, chalking it up to severe ptsd. When things inevitably go south though..pants are shitted.

Deacon:

•Honestly believes that you are pulling a fast one on him. Maybe it’s payback for all the bull crap lies he has told you? Bottom line though, once he realizes what’s going on he more or less traps your ass in the church until he can scrounge up someone to help get your “buddy” out. Regardless, he WILL help.

Gage:

• Absolutely having none of this. Will smack the demon out of you if he must or will die trying.

Hancock:

•Saw it from a mile away and being a rather superstitious ghoul, he had the essentials. Salt, jet, and an odd priest from Diamond city all within a hot moment.

Macready:

•Beyond terrified. It isn’t even funny though, he is frozen in place and seconds away from a full blown heart attack. He won’t know what to do and hopes desperately that you’ll forgive him for that.

Maxson:

•Depends a lot on your relationship with him. If you’re a soldier or even a friend, his answer will be to turn you to scribes to see what the fuck was happening. However when you are a romantic partner, he’s quite a bit more torn up.

Nick:

•skeptical but open to believing just about anything given all the things he has seen. When it comes down to it, he’ll do everything in his power to get YOU back and make sure your demon friend stays away.

Piper:

• She feels so bad for it but be it self preservation or the fact that she knows she has to stay alive for Nat, she chooses to distance herself from you. It eats her alive but it’s all she can think to do.

Preston:

•Will call upon everyone he can, even those he doesn’t particularly care for but are friends of your’s, to try to rally and bring you back.

X6-88:

•To the institute with your demon infested ass.

#fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 companions #paladin danse #fallout companions #danse #curie #elder maxson #porter gage #fallout shitpost

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nerdyenby · 11 months

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Red time :D I’m watching Grian

Grian sounds so distressed is he okay????

Ah he’s sick, who isn’t though

The rabid rabbits 😂😂😂

Grian ready and willing to slam his head into any and every wall he sees

They were gonna instantly jump into the void in skybattle 😂

“No one expected me to be on time but they were still disappointed when I wasn’t”

Pete calling everyone voting for buildmart cowards, as he should

Buildmart

Manager Grian my beloved!!!!

Their comms are beautiful

I was on the edge of my seat the entire team, no notes lol

“Alright, what do we wanna win next?” I love the energy, king <333

Bingo

How have I not seen H’s chat message before 😂😂😂

The way they know what chiseled sandstone is and how to craft it :))

These guys know minecraft and it makes my heart so happy

YOU CAN KILL THE SHEEP GRIAN 😭😭😭

The way he freaking murdered a cat without hesitation but forgot he can kill a sheep

IT WAS A JELLIE NOOOOOOOO oh Grian is dead

“We’re doing exactly what I said we’re gonna do, which is win” “we’re looking kinda hot right now” RABID RABBIT SUPREMACY!!!!

Gem’s little “I made a house” 😂

“Alright, who’s the weak link?” “Me, I’m the weak link, we know that. Is anyone surprised by this?” “Cleo, get it together please, get it together” “This is me with it together, Gem, you know that!!” This team is my favorite actually

“Don’t forget to donate chat :D” “or else >:(“ “and if you do forget, just remember” THEM

Gem and Cleo my beloveds

Grian crashing and Gem’s “Oh I thought that would be me today, I’m glad it’s you” 😂

TGTTOSAWAF

“How hard do we want to win this?” “Like, super hard” so true Cleo

“Oh no, I haven’t practiced terra swoop force. Joke’s on you, I don’t need to” GRIAN 😂

They popped off!!

“This is supposed to be a fun game” real

Cleo’s reaction to Grian saying it’s Takashi’s castle is so /pos

“You’re doing great!! I mean, you’re doing bad!!” Gem my beloved

The way Grian described everyone grappling onto Phil’s face is killing me

Grian’s sole strategy for this event is overwhelming positivity AS HE SHOULD

“You got this, Grian. Just murder anyone who comes your way and you’ll be fine!!” so true Cleo!!!

Pete and Grian’s banter is everything

Parkour Tag

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go first” “oh” “I’m not gonna stop you”

This team is so great, they all are just so comfortable with each other but haven’t competed together so they’re just oscillating between merely vibing and absolutely bullying each other

GRIAN’S SOUNDS 😂😂😂

Cleo asking Gem if she’s supposed to be nice or mean to Grian and Pete volunteering to be ridiculed lmao

Grian’s killing it as a hunter!!!!

Pete crafting a master conspiracy to get Grian a fifth hunt lmao

Everyone getting to hunt at least once <333

GRIAN TOP 5?!???!!!

Grian talking about how Scar is going to hate him and then how bad Scar did his first event and then saying “He’s probably watching, hi Scar, hey buddy~”

Grian talking about how much this event reminds him of Techno <333

Ace Race

Grian is so unhinged right now, good for him

“There’s just the gay stuff, it’s fine” CLEO 😂

Only just realizing this is my first time watching this ace race because all the povs I’ve watched so far got muted

“I think I’ve just been lapped” “it’s probably Pete” “Uhhhhh….” 😂😂😂

Cleo telling Pete “You’ve done really good, precious, I’m proud of you” god, am I really deprived enough of affection to get emotional over this? The answer is yes

Grian telling Pete to go jogging to this soundtrack irl 😂

TEN SECONDS ON 2ND?!???

Annnnnnnddd they jinxed it lol

I LOVE confident Grian

“I just don’t want battle box to be last” uh oh…

Sands of Time

I feel like I haven’t seen anyone shoot creeepers in sands before lol

Cleo’s doing great for a first time sandkeeper

WHAT IS GRIAN DOING?!???? 😭😭😭

“I got a tomato with your name on it” pizzacrustduo my beloved

“Honestly I respect the ambition, but I’m gonna have to respect it from the bottom of the freaking leaderboard” Pete 😭😭😭

Meltdown

Grian popping off!!!

Ah no, they’re going through it

“See the thing is: Gem is so good at pvp… on hermitcraft” everyone losing it 😂😂😂

Battle Box

“You did beat Etho multiple times in pvp” “You say that like it’s hard” CLEO 😭

“I’ll do the tnt” it is not possible to describe Grian’s voice right there

“Alright, here’s how we can get 8/9” thank you Pete 😂

Cleo’s reaction to seeing Aimsey is killing me /pos

Pete running around like “WHERE WHERE WHERE” and Gem having already killed everyone my beloved

Everyone cheering on Pete <333

“That’s our ally!!” “Oh my god, I am- I am an ally” LOSING MY MIND /POS

Grian and Gem holding hands on the leaderboard :))

Pete being so happy for Dave <33

Dodgebolt

Everyone hyping up Cleo before they realized she was in 30th rather than 40th, they popped off for their first event!!!

The affectionate bullying in this call is everything to me

“We play Minecraft every single day, I’m not sure everyone does” “We might be nerds” “We might- we might be dorks” “You know we’re dorks, but we’re dorks who know how to play Minecraft” MY STREAMERS!!!

“But what if there was a better dodgebolt?” 10/10 foreshadowing Pete, thank you :)))

“I need a motivational speech” “Pete, you’re the most gorgeous unicorn I’ve ever seen” pizzacrust my beloved 😂

#mc championship #mcc p23 #grian #geminitay #zombiecleo #petezahhutt #nerdy’s mcc reactions

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thefairylights · 10 months

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35. things you said at the top of your lungs with LOUSTAT obviously!!!

Done! ♥️

The music is blaring around the stadium as Louis walks along the floor and gazes at the hundreds of fans sitting in their seats all around. The air is full of excitement and their hearts all race at the thought of seeing The Vampire Lestat perform live. It’s a odors show with no seat left empty and Louis feels a rush of pride flash through him. Lestat has done this. Lestat has achieved what he was determined to and it has all come to him far more easily than anyone has expected. To doubt has been an error in the first place as with all that Lestat does in setting goals is led into fruition.

This is another win and Louis nods at security as he breezes by to walk the long and narrow hall to Lestat’s dressing room. He can hear the band in their respective dressing rooms excitedly chatting about the show but when he comes to Lestat’s room he is met with only silence. That ticks Louis’ curiosity and he raps his knuckles against the door before opening it.

“The fans can’t wait to see you,” Louis says the moment he walks through the door. “They were chanting your name when a song of yours began playing over the speakers.”

Lestat sits at the vanity, carefully applying his eyeliner. “Ah, c’est parfait,” his lover says very happily. “I cannot wait to go on stage. I have been going over a few song adjustments while readying myself.”

He sets the eyeliner down, only to pick up the pot of gray eyeshadow. Louis watches every move as the brush glides over Lestat’s eyelids. There is a shimmer that catches in the light and Louis is at his lover’s side, pressing a hand to his shoulder. The mesh of Lestat’s shirt feels soft beneath his touch and Louis gazes at him through the mirror’s reflection.

“You’re going to do amazing, baby. Every show you’ve performed has been met with absolute chaos from the fans and positive reviews from all the media,” Louis says, keeping the air of pride in his tone now. “What song adjustments?” He cannot help asking.

Lestat beams at his reflection before he spins around and loosely wraps his arms around Louis’ waist. “Mm, just a song for you, my darling,” Lestat informs him while inching in closer and closer until their noses touch. Louis smells the expensive cologne Lestat insists upon wearing along with the scent that is solely Lestat and breathes him all in.

It makes him shiver, makes his body fill with desire, and most of all, with endless love.

“What song?” Louis softly asks. He so easily falls into all that Lestat is to him. The well without a bottom is forever there as Louis is forever falling into it. He doesn’t want to escape it.

“A new one,” Lestat replies, teasing in to his voice that makes Louis’ smile grow. “I wrote it last night.”

“While I slept?” Louis asks, realizing it. “What’s it about?”

“You’ll just have to find out with the rest of the fans,” Lestat answers. “But know that what I sing, all I sing will be at the top of my lungs to you, mon cher.”

Louis scoffs, but Lestat takes him by the chin and pulls him into a very firm kiss. Louis cannot help but melt into it and the idea of Lestat, on stage, singing out his love to him while the fans think it is all for them. There’s a thrill it creates inside that almost feels like a forest fire in the pit of his stomach.

“Maybe I’ll go into the crowd then,” Louis murmurs against Lestat’s lips. “Backstage isn’t the same as seeing it from the floor. To see you in all your glory.”

Lestat nods once, then kisses him again before he pulls away and turns back to the mirror. “Help me with my lip gloss, darling? I always manage to ruin it when you are around. You’re so terrible for my image!”

#Loustat fic #loustat #my fic #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #rockstar Lestat #the vampire lestat #drabbles

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genshinboys · 3 years

Text

Thigh job with Genshin Boys - Xiao

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Xiao

When you enter your flat, a handsome but grumpy Yaksha is sitting cross-legged on your bed resting his chin in the palm of his small hand. He grimaces and shoots something that can be referred to as a death stare in your direction.

Here we go again. You think to yourself as you close the door behind you.

„You are late.” He basically growls at you fixing you with another menacing glare.

„It’s nice to see you too, Baby.” You approach the sulking adeptus and lean in to kiss his forehead but, alas, he backs away and frowns in turn.

„Oh, no kisses then?” A smile on your face but a sneer in your voice makes his blood boil.

It is like a match in a powder barrel.

„Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N!” He warns. „I know all of your cheap tricks.”

You let out an annoyed huff. Arms crossed on your chest.

„Why would you even ask when I saw you following me all the damn time, hmm?” You accuse your boyfriend, gazing right into Xiao's averting eyes.

„I wasn’t follow-,” and then he goes silent knowing fully well that lying isn’t an option with you.

„So?” You nag, hoping for any kind of response. „No need to be this jealous, Xiao.”

„Don’t get weird ideas in your head.” The boy deadpans. „I’m not jealous!” He defends himself but it doesn’t sound convincing enough even for his own ears. He blushes and turns his head away.

You let out a sigh and smile warmly at your boyfriend’s pettiness.

Does he even realise how cute he is? You briefly wonder and then you reach for his silky hair and ruffle it affectionately.

It’s been a taxing, full of ups and downs journey since you met the haunted by karmic debt Yaksha. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were just another bothersome individual and he could not care less about your existence. It was unnerving. He was snarky, seething with rage for no reason, hiding his feelings for so long that it seemed to you that they were going to explode inside of him one day leading to his utter despair and demise. You got to know about his past and the weight of his karmic debt from Zhongli. You took pity. Somehow you felt compelled to help the boy, regardless of his repulsive demeanour. The golden-eyed Yaksha was of a different opinion, though.

Xiao didn’t want you to get close to him. He couldn’t make any sense of your stubbornness. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him? Him?

A barbaric monster, eaten up alive by remorse and regret.

A blood-thirsty fiend whose sole purpose of breathing is to slaughter and spread fear wherever he shows his face.

These were the thoughts so deeply engraved in his unfortunate soul that he couldn’t allow anyone to come near him.

He perceived himself as a hollow, barren of any human emotions vessel. The only feelings he was familiar with were pain and the burden of his legacy that he is forced to carry up to this day.

Bizarrely, as time had passed he was taken aback by some unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest. It wasn’t painful. Nothing that would come close to the distress caused by the divine will. It wasn’t permanent, either. It only happened in your presence, as Yaksha would hesitantly observe. Sometimes it got even worse. It would be accompanied by this fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach.

„Why are you this close? Huh? Do you have a death wish?”

„Move, I don’t have time to sit around and be idle like you do.”

„You have no respect for the adepti. Stop fooling around.”

The more he pushed you away the more you were determined to lure him in. You couldn’t stop laughing when one day Zhongli informed you that the troubled Yaksha came to him to seek advice regarding this weird tightness in his chest and an upset stomach when you were around.

And so, you smile fondly at your boyfriend as he yanks your hand away not liking the way you tousle the emerald green strands.

„I’m sorry XIao. I didn’t mean to be late. Just wanted to buy some jewellery.” You point to your thigh to get the adeptus’ attention back where it should be, which is you, not the wall.

Xiao glances at your thigh doing his best to remain impassive and uninterested. Unfortunately, his eyes widen a little and his mouth is somehow stuck hanging open as if he were to say something but the words never come out.

„You saw me bargaining with the shopkeeper, nothing wrong about that, right?” You explain to the adeptus currently captivated by the glimmering golden chain adorning your thigh.

Xiao has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. You are acutely aware of that. He doesn’t know how to react, how to show that he cares or process what he feels. He doesn’t also entirely understand the purpose of half of the things that you insist on doing to him. Playful bites, tickling, holding his hand in public. He doesn’t question these actions even though it’s all a novelty. He does know for sure that it makes him feel flustered and all hot inside.

Does he despise it? No.

Would he like for you to continue? The answer to that question is definitely affirmative but Xiao is not going to admit it out loud.

He also has no clue how to initiate all of these things. Is he supposed to bite you back as well? What if he hurts you? Everything is so overwhelming as he’s endured years of solitude and sadness. You have to patiently teach him everything from square one. Nevertheless, it’s incredibly rewarding and you find yourself falling for him a bit more with each clumsy kiss, a shy but warm hug and an awkward attempt at complimenting you.

However, despite being not well-versed in sexual encounters, Xiao does pleasantly surprise you by catching up with everything real quick.

So, as his eyes are fixated on the trinket, you once again run your hand through his lush and long hair.

„Why would you even buy it? Pointless.” The boy retorts grumpily this time showing no signs of objection to your tender gesture. He moves his head up a little, losing himself to the tingling sensation going down his scalp.

„So that you can stare at me like that with those needy eyes?” You answer truthfully, barring the real intent behind your actions.

He snorts and his face turns into that lovely shade of pink and then deep red within seconds.

He would absolutely turn his gaze away if not for the fact that you take his chin in your hand and thrust his face upwards forcing him to look you straight in the eyes.

„If you don’t like it you can take it off.”

„No need.”

You chuckle softly.

„Let me make amends for my delay.”

You take a step forward and place your knee on the verge of the bed. Xiao drinks in the view of your thigh-highs squeezing into the meat of your legs. The chain shimmering lightly right above the lacy material.

„You can touch it, Baby.” You encourage the nervous Yaksha.

Visibly tensed, he reaches for the exposed skin and lightly traces the chain with his unsure fingers. It almost tickles but you let him do as he pleases and soon Xiao attempts to fully envelop your thigh with his greedy hand. He does cover half of it at best, but he seems satisfied and proceeds to squeeze it. It feels soft to the touch and he shivers at how warm and inviting your legs are in contrast to his icy-cold and sweaty palms. Bewitched, Xiao aches for more and he selfishly pulls you in so that you are now kneeling in front of him on the bed.

He stops breathing when you swiftly unbutton your shorts and undress for him. You let his eyes roam over your half-naked body for some time enthralled by the way Xiao’s pupils dilate in awe.

You lean into him as Xiao pulls you towards him for a messy kiss. It isn’t gentle as usual but full of passion and urgency. He whines when you bite on his lower lip but then you gently stroke him with your tongue to ease the discomfort.

Slowly, very very slowly, your hands go down his torso only to finally stop at the bulge in Xiao’s loose pants. You tug at the waistband and Xiao lifts his ass a bit to help you strip him naked. His penis, hard and heavy, resting now on his lower belly. He hisses when you palm his hard erection and that simple touch sends jolts of electricity down his spine. It leaves him intoxicated once you start gliding with the heel of your palm up and down the underside of his member. You repeat the movement and Xiao’s body jerks in response.

„Don’t tease.” The adeptus pleads through gritted teeth.

„I’m so sorry, Baby. Gonna make you feel real good.”

Xiao can feel himself growing impossibly harder when you place your feet on either side of his hips. When he looks down he can see your wet folds and the pinkish colour of your tight hole. Lying on your back, you prop yourself on your elbows so that you can look at Xiao’s face in the process. You scoot a bit closer to the confused boy, your bum is right in front of his erected shaft. You take his cock in your hand and guide him in between your thighs. In the beginning, you try to be delicate. You gently rub the tip of his cock, circle his shaft with your fingers and with a fisted hand spread his pre-cum all the way down to his pubic hair so that he is thoroughly lubricated. You wouldn’t like to hurt the boy during the whole ordeal.

His breath is shallow. Excitedly, you clasp your thighs together and start playing with his dick. You rotate your hips and massage his cock. It slides in and out and Xiao growls feeling ecstatic. You exchange between rubbing him with your thighs or gliding your hand along his cock, starting at the very top and working your way down to the bottom until Xiao can’t stifle his cries anymore. A few more strokes and he is definitely going to beg.

Xiao is on fire. It feels too good to be true and he wants this moment to last forever. He licks his dry lips and moans wantonly thrusting his hips forward. He meets you mid-way and the friction it creates every time he pushes his dick in between your legs leaves him gasping.

„You’re making me cum, Y/N.” He cries out for the last time before it is too late to warn you.

„Then cum for me, Baby.”

Obediently, Xiao shoots his thick and heavy load all over your lower body. For a moment the world around him seems out of focus and it makes him dizzy. He pants heavily and can’t catch his breath. He feels as if he was drowning. But then, your loving arms envelop him and he is safe again. You gently stroke his chest hugging him from behind. He melts in your embrace letting his head rest on your shoulder. His erratic heartbeat slowly going back to its usual rhythm.

„I think it looks pretty on you.”

„Hmm?” You want the boy to clarify what he meant.

„The chain... Looks pretty.”

„Oh.”

Shakily, he reaches out to put your hand into his and he squeezes them together.

��I’ll never let you lose yourself again, XIao. I love you and I will protect you forever.”

Xiao recognizes the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. A single tear rolls down his cheek but he hurriedly wipes it before you can notice.

„Shut up.” The boy responds angrily and kisses you breathless.

Other boys:

Albedo

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Zhongli

Kazuha

#xiao #xiao smut #xiao headcanons #xiao scenarios #xiao reader #xiao x reader #xiao you #xiao x you #xiao imagines #xiao drabbles #xiao genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines

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believeitseeitdoit · 3 years

Text

Legos and Language

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: All bets are off when it comes to a Lego mishap in the Rogers-Barnes home

Rating: Y'all shouldn’t be reading the filthy things if youre under 18 anyways but this one is pretty PG (but language is the exception)

Warnings: Domestic stucky, suggested and slight smutty times, 90% fluffy, some foul language, talk of murder and destruction of legos forever, feel good shit, Steve, Bucky and their girl have babies

don’t steal my little munchkin oc names please, I like them

This is written from each lover’s POV, marked by ******** this

This is a work of love and hated of legos, solely to be read for a smile and maybe some happiness, be kind or go away

“Sonofabitch!” Your hushed curse rattles through the house as you stomp barefoot through your son’s pile of a semi built lego creation. With a few breathy “fuck’s,'' you hop over to the nearest chair to rub the new soreness out. Sharp indentations litter the underside of your arch, and you peel off a flat piece from your toe then mentally plot unmonitored use of the quantum realm to murder the creator of legos before they can cause any harm to you again.

Continuing your muttering, you delicately set your foot down and turn to the mess. You sigh in relief that you didn’t destroy any of the built chunk, you were only subjected to the ultimate test of parenthood, the loose pieces.

“Back to our regularly scheduled morning, coffee.” You say to the empty room, narrating your routine as if you were running a sitcom. Once in the kitchen, you set about making a hefty pot of coffee for you and your husbands, humming an 80s rock tune and letting your open robe swish around you loosely in the process.

********

They both notice you slide out of bed, a super spy and a retired Avenger don’t miss much in their own home. But rather than follow you down to the kitchen to disrupt your morning ritual, Steve pulls his husband against him and nuzzles his hair so they could get some quiet time of their own. A few moments later, Bucky is softly snoring against Steve’s arm, and Steve is on the brink of sleep when he hears a barely audible string of curses and the unbalanced thunking of feet along the hardwood. Bucky seems undeterred, so Steve leaves him be and slips out of the bed to investigate what caused the early use of language, not that he’s surprised considering their wife’s colorful vocabulary when the kids aren’t listening.

Pulling his discarded boxers back on from the night before, Steve saunters out of the master suite silently toward the staircase. He pokes his head into the nursery to check on the sleeping infant twins, and heads down the old hardwood steps, praying for them not to creak with every step. Halfway down the stairs, he hears you filling the coffee pot under the tap and the chorus to a White Snake ballad quietly playing from the speakers while you hum along. With a smile and a small head bob as he catches the tune, Steve steps across the threshold of the stairs toward the living room and kitchen, unaware of the torture devices scattered on the floor.

Steve intends to follow the wall to get to the kitchen without his presence known, until you hear a series of words that would make Tony blush and an unfortunate crunching sound of your son’s creation being smashed to bits.

“SONOFAFUCKINGMONKEYSASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCKING DICK ON A STICK GOD DAMN PIECE OF TORTUROUS BULLSHIT IS THIS?!!” He yelps loudly and tries to hop over the new graveyard of legos.

In his fresh misery, he misses you quickly dropping the coffee grounds onto the counter top and hustling toward him to make sure his verbatim doesn’t wake the twins. As you begin shushing him from a few steps away, Steve hobbles blindly toward your voice and you see it happen before you can say anything. Your big clutz of a husband smashes his un-assaulted foot through your son’s Legos, only this time Captain America is not the star spangled man with a plan. He has absolutely destroyed the near complete firetruck and you can only stand in awe at his ability to hit each remaining chunk of the build before he finally makes it to the couch.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, why the fucking legos? FUCK!” His wailing is not going to gain any sympathies from you, only entertainment at the weaknesses of men.

“Steven Grant, you shut the hell up before you wake my babies or I WILL send Bucky to the store and you can have twin duty alone.” Sitting down at his feet to pull the pieces off his skin, you scold him lightly but without any venom or intention. He hisses as you pull the flat plastic off his big toe, and you chuckle as his pathetic whimpers cease.

“So, coffee?” You stand and pull him up with you toward the kitchen, letting his calloused hands and leftover cologne embrace you like a blanket as he leans down to caress your cheek. He kisses your forehead and softly brushes hair behind your ear with one hand while the other grips your plush hip under the loose robe.

“Maybe something sweeter to distract me first? This robe is teasing me.” His lips ghost down your neck and he nips at your collarbone while pulling the thin silk off your shoulders.

“You kept me up late, baby. I need coffee before anything today.” You whisper breathily against his tanned, thick chest, whimpering and shivering as you feel him trace the marks littering your skin and gently squeezing the flesh he is so obsessed with.

He allows you to pull away only after you shudder again, but he stands behind you, hands locked onto your hips as you pour the bitter amber liquid into 3 mugs. Steve’s love bites on your neck keep you distracted long enough for Bucky to come down the stairs without being noticed.

“I thought we agreed there was no third wheeling in this family, and yet here we are.” Your bonus husband is perched against the refrigerator offering your favorite coffee creamer and his signature pout.

******

Bucky is roused by his husband rolling out of bed and the accompanying coolness that surrounds him as the sheets flutter back down against the mattress. He listens to Steve pad lightly down the hall to check in on the kids, Hudson in his room first, then Charlotte and Talia in the nursery. As the footsteps recede down the stairwell, Bucky lets his body sink into the bed and the scents of his partners surround him and lull him back to sleep.

Until he hears a string of words leave his husband’s mouth, and a series of crunches and shattering sounds buried under more very inappropriate words. Now wide awake, Bucky shoves himself from bed and puts a loose sweatshirt over his head while he walks toward the stairs. He is halted by a whimper from one of his little twins in the nursery, but his ever present super senses note that both babes are still firmly asleep so he continues down the steps.

Not sure of the state of things on the main floor, Bucky alertly scopes the space and finds their son’s legos strewn about the floor. With a sigh, Bucky steps around them and shakes his head as he follows the sounds of his husband and wife to the kitchen. He is met with tangled hair and soft pants, an open robed woman more stunning than Aphrodite, and a man barely containing his impressive erection in his low hanging boxers. Bucky can feel the energy in the room, can practically taste the arousal on them, and his subconscious stirs awake, begging to join like a wolf waiting for the hunt.

*******

“And who plans on fixing our son’s firetruck creation? Because it sure as hell won’t be me, I will be taking care of our little girls where I am wanted.”

Steve is the first to respond, an arm opens toward Bucky in the same moment. “Honey we didn’t mean to leave you out, c’mon over here let us show you how much better it is with you.”

As Bucky steps into Steve’s reach, you push off the counter and into the thick warmth of your husbands. Their desire envelops you as kisses are peppered on skin and fingers prod at bits of flesh for a better grip on reality. The moment is nearly bursting with love and lust, blinding both man’s super senses of their incoming visitor.

“Who da hell bwoke my WEGOS!!!!????? MOMMYYYYY!” Hudson screeches from the bottom of the stairs and you’re running for him in an instant.

“Hudson Anthony! You do not speak like that. You know better young man.” Steve and Bucky hiss at the use of their boy’s middle name, knowing how he feels in both respects.

“Baby boy, I’m so sorry about the Legos, but you cannot use that language. No naughty words right?” You hate scolding him when you completely understand his frustrations, but heavens forbid he say any of that in public, the boy would be shamed and sent to his principal so fast even the Daily Bugle couldn’t catch it first.

Hudson sniffles and rubs his nose, trying to fight off tears of frustration in front of his daddy and papa, but quickly fails.

“But, is bwoken mommy. I woked so hawd on it! Wuh happened?” He begins wailing and stuttering breaths, and you pull him into your arms to hug and comfort him gently.

“Shh, handsome, it was an accident. See, they were left too close to the stairs and mommy stepped on some, then daddy heard her yelp and ran through them too. Papa moved them out of the way and reminded daddy that he needs to help fix it with you baby.” You bounce him on your hip, trying to push the sadness away like you did when he was a small tike.

Bucky and Steve step closer, each wrapping an arm around you and Hudson to initiate a bear hug. Hudson whimpers a bit longer then picks his head up from your shoulder and leans toward Steve, signaling he wants his daddy to hold him next. Steve pulls him close and whispers apologies only audible to his boy, but you and Bucky smile knowingly. They head to the far corner of the couch where they can have a quiet cuddle and talk about how Hudson can teach his daddy to rebuild the LEGO vehicle.

You lean against Bucky, enjoying the moment until he turns to the stairs.

“Time for round 2 with some sleepy babies?” You tie your robe closed and head up the walk way, stubbing your toe on the first step.

“Mother fu—dge on toast that was unpleasant.” You yelp and grip tightly onto Bucky’s vibranium arm. He chuckles and scoops you into his arms, carrying you up the remaining steps.

“Careful, I don’t want to use your middle name today too darling.” He winks, setting you down at the doorway of the nursery. With a huff, you begin fluttering about the room, softly waking your girls and beginning their morning routine.

“My sweet little Charlotte Ann, and my lovely Natalia Rose, you two are the most precious angels in this world. But for the love of all things holy, no Legos when you’re older ok?”

Tagging those who may appreciate this or can give me a helpful bit of advice on my writing : @bxccxdxll @iraot @sagechanoafterdark @tuiccim @thebescht @makbarnes

#stucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #parent Bucky #parent steve

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Note

Wendy!! i was angst-inspired and wanted to share - Shinichiro finally having his feelings reciprocated by one of the people he confesses to, and the other Black Dragons are happy for him, until Akashi realizes he's also having feelings for this person. Of course he respects Shin enough to not get between them, but... it's fine if they get some time on the side, right...?? y/n's got two hands, what he don't know won't hurt him, etc etc. eventually it gets to the point where they feel like things can't continue the way that they have without someone feeling betrayed. so they're preparing to tell Shinichiro but they don't get to before uhhhhhh His Naptime💀 and they both have to live with that guilt and decide how they're gonna move forward, like do they get together?? do they back off of each other?? does it even feel the same if they're not sneaking around? does it make each of them think too much of Shin whenever they see each other??? it just hurts, it hurts my heart because emotions and hurts my brain because i could not write this if i tried lmao

I WAS ABOUT TO GO TO BED UNTIL I SAW THIS AND YOU GAVE ME

H E A R T B U R N

This prompt is ABSOLUTELY INSANE.

And I love it, I'm writing it. Y'all better strap the fuck in, BECAUSE MR. TAKEOMI IS MY ANGST KING. FREAKING GENIUS MASTERMIND, YOU ARE.

Rain Bringer: Shinichiro Sano & Takeomi Akashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.4k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation (I have been saving this song for a good one. I think this is it):

"We should stop this..."

Takeomi's lips slide up the side of your neck and back down, ignoring your statement in the dim light of the room. The lamp in the corner is red, your signal to Takeomi that you're free for him to come over, which happened every so often after Shinichiro left your apartment for the evening.

"You don't mean that," he replies finally, and you huff, feeling his hands course up to your waist.

No, you don't mean it.

Yeah, you like Shinichiro, but Takeomi makes you feel things no man has ever made you feel. Ever.

It's as if Takeomi took your essence and wrapped it around his wrist, chaining him to you forever. Shinichiro was a safe bet. Takeomi was what your entire body lusted for and desired in the middle of the night when your bed wasn't warm.

"Kiss me," Takeomi whispers and you obey, leaning back to catch his mouth as he leans over your shoulder. "Everything's fine." You kiss each other until the result is the both of you laying in bed, bodies tangled around each other as he pumps into you with sinful and terrifying lust. "God, you're so damn perfect," he breathes, holding your wrists above your head and nudging your nipple with his tongue. "Wish I could have you like this every night."

And you do, too. Sort of.

Out of all of the Black Dragons, why did you have to fall for both Shinichiro and Takeomi? If it wasn't for that night when he walked into Shinichiro's shop and gave you that look... fuck, that heat-filled and desire bringing look!

You'd gone weak-kneed and landed right on them in front of Takeomi, taking him in the backroom like a devious and scheming whore. It wasn't okay. If Shinichiro found out... you'd both be dead. You'd gotten lucky multiple times with Takeomi's dalliances, from almost getting caught in the shop to the warehouse to the fucking bathroom at the club...

You liked Shinichiro. You did.

But Takeomi was just... something else.

After his single orgasm and your fifth one, your head rests against his chest and you hear his heart beating slowly beneath his rib cage.

"We need to tell Shinichiro," you exhale. Takeomi goes stiff, but the thought had crossed his mind before. He thought about pulling Shin aside and trying to tell him in the nicest way that he was fucking his girlfriend. But... to his shame, he never got the courage. But now that you're bringing it up, he feels some sense of 'morality' or whatever it was.

"We'll tell him tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you reply, falling asleep on the man's chest after a few moments of silence. Takeomi wished he had his cigarettes so he could smoke to ease his mind, but not wanting to wake you, and not wanting to move - he forgoes them, instead letting his mind roam while you rest.

_____________________________________________________________

The news comes that morning.

Both of you had multiple missed calls and a tear-filled Mikey and Emma trying to get a hold of you, get a hold of someone.

But you both had been deep in the throes of sleep, nestled in with each other as the sun rose on the bleak-ass day. You part without words, Takeomi pressing a kiss against your forehead as he leaves out the door, forgetting the breakfast you tried to make and the coffee that had gone cold in your silence of getting ready for the day. How could you face the younger Sano children like this?

You were sure that Takeomi's cum was still nestled between your thighs like the stain of your sin, visible for every single person to see as you walked down the street to the Sano home. You're shaking as you walk through the door, shivering even though it's not cold and your body curling in on itself, even though you haven't been hurt.

Takeomi is sitting at the table, facing away from you, but you can't find the strength to call out to him. Instead, you feel like a fraud as you cry in Keizo's arms, trying to find something that feels authentic to you deep in your heart. You had feelings for Shinichiro. But you cry more out of guilt than your pain, trying to make sense of your own actions.

At the funeral, you wonder if you had just asked Shinichiro to stay the night - instead of being so eager to push him out - if he would have survived. And again, Takeomi doesn't speak to you, and you don't try to speak to him.

Neither of you can face what you've done.

Especially not with each other.

_____________________________________________________________

A week passes.

Two.

Three.

And you find yourself in your apartment, staring at the things he left you with a sense of dread. The chain, the shirts, the bracelet he stowed away for your birthday...

You swipe the things off the dresser top, enraged at yourself for being such a horrible person. You can't face yourself - all of the mirrors have been turned around. All of his clothes were still in your closet because you knew if you touched them, you'd be forced to face what you've done.

But anger drives you forward, pulling at the items and yanking them off their hangers, each shirt, each pair of pants, each hat falling to the ground in a heap of laundry that you can't find the heart to dispose of.

You could find the heart to fuck his best friend, though.

The swarm of accusatory thoughts begins to plague your mind, and you sit on the floor, tears falling from your eyes as you try to knock them loose or free them so they can't hurt you anymore.

Your thoughts are so loud that you almost don't hear the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You swallow your tears, wipe your face, and trudge to the fixture before opening it without checking to see who it is.

Your mouth dries up when you see Takeomi, his eyes full of sorrow.

"Takeomi," you breathe, but he pushes past you, ignoring the sound you make when he grips your wrist and drags you to your room. when he sees all of the clothing scattered across the floor, something in him recognizes your dilemma, but he doesn't say a word. Instead, he turns around and kisses you roughly, pushing you against the door and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip.

It's not wrong if Shinichiro's dead, you chant to yourself, trying to make sense of the feeling in your body as Takeomi takes you and claims you as his over and over again in the bed you once shared with a dead man. And you can't help it, you rationalize.

Takeomi's the only one who understands your pain, your suffering. It's unique to both of you and drives you back together, even though his death drove you two apart.

"I don't regret what we did," Takeomi pants, moving you up and down in his lap while you face him. "I don't regret a single moment of it."

And deep down, you don't either.

_____________________________________________________________

But sadly, those feelings of lust and desire peter out with time.

You realize that the relationship between you and Takeomi was built solely on the fact that you were sneaking around, that you were being little shitty kids and playing a game that didn't make sense anymore. It's like playing hide-and-seek with a ghost, but that ghost is how you felt about Takeomi before, and how you feel about him now is staring you right in the face.

The face before you is Shinichiro's, and you stare into his dark eyes and see the betrayal lurking there in your dreams, in your nightmares, in your thoughts when you pass by the former S.S. Motors.

"We should stop this."

This time, Takeomi looks up at you and into your reflection in the mirror. His eyes seem to betray how he truly feels, which is nothing short of empty.

"Yeah."

You get dressed in silence again, just like the time when you found out Shinichiro died, and he leaves without saying and word and without a kiss. You watch him walk away into the rainy night, hands in his pockets, and wonder if Shinichiro hadn't died... would you two still be doing what you did before? Would you sneak around with him and play the gamble of getting caught? Or would you settle for a man who made you feel safe?

Maybe you'd dump him for Takeomi.

You don't know.

But all you know is that every single time you remembered Takeomi Akashi, you'd have the painful memory of betraying someone you cared about... twice.

#takeomi akashi smut #takeomi akashi x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Hot Springs (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader)

Word Count: 2,570

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: SMUT, bad language, public, my shit writing, Ushijima being a beautiful man

Summary: You couldn’t remember the last time you and Ushijima got to spend proper time together, so when he suggests going to the hot springs for a date how could you refuse? Although, you two are doing a bit more than just enjoying the hot water.

~~~~

GUYS! I know it’s been a fucking minute😫 I’m still trying to get my shit together for school lmao. BUT I’ve been working on this fic for a while tbh, I was just never motivated to finish it until recently. I apologize in advance if it’s trash😂 BUT, I do have a couple of things to go over. First of all, thank you guys so much for being patient with me the past couple of weeks, I’ve definitely missed putting content out to you guys, I’ve just been super busy with life and school. Second of all, I know I have requests sitting in my inbox, I will do them. Eventually. The only reason why I’m even posting something new is because this story was already in the works, so since it’s done I decided to post it (it’s probably garbage idk lol). Third of all, I love you guys so much 😘😘😘😘 it’s been such a joy writing for you all, and I hope I continue to put out content you guys enjoy! As always, this story is dedicated to @sunshinewitchz because she’s the biggest Wakatoshi simp I know, and I love her so much and her endless support.

I hope you guys enjoy the story! Please let me know what you think of it😊😊

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“- Would you like to go?” Ushijima’s deep voice filtered through your ears; although you only heard the last part, you had no idea what he had said beforehand.

“Hmm?” you finally looked up at him, the paint brush in your hand stilled.

A soft frown coated his lips, sometimes you were far too engrossed in your art projects. Usually he didn’t mind, today was different though. It had been two weeks since the last time he had seen you, both of you far too busy to make time to spend together.

Of course, he would want your undivided attention, he missed you.

“I’m sorry Toshi, what were you saying?” you smiled sheepishly at him, carefully setting down the paintbrush, your eyes focused on him completely now.

“The hot springs. Do you want to go?” He asked again, his eyes flickering over your face.

Your lips pursed, your brain wracking through the dates to make sure you didn’t already have a prior commitment. “When?”

He let out another sigh, Ushijima loved you deeply, but when painting was involved… well, you were in a completely different world to the point that it was hard to hold a conversation with you.

But he also loved your passion for it, he loved how talented you were, how confident you were in your skills. It was proven time and time again whenever you produced your master pieces.

Although, all your artwork in his eyes were masterpieces.

You were the best masterpiece of all. Ushijima could stare at you for hours, he could watch you paint for hours, but right now, he wanted to be your sole focus.

“Do you want to go to the hot springs with me tomorrow?” he asked once more.

“Okay.” You smiled brightly at him, you didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, except to drop off a painting. Any chance you got to spend with Ushijima you would take.

“Okay.” he repeated, a soft smile coating his lips. “Finish up, we’ll go get food once you’re done.”

You definitely loved Ushijima.

***

“Ushijima-senpai! Y/n-senpai!” Goshiki exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here!?”

“Your grandma asked for a commission piece! I’m just dropping it off now.” You smiled widely. “I didn’t know you would be here today!”

“I-I’m just visiting.” he stuttered out, his eyes awkwardly flickering over to Ushijima who paid him no mind, his eyes scanning the outer exterior of the house.

“I need to collect the money; do you know where she is?” You asked sweetly.

“She’s out in the garden, please come in.” He said awkwardly, stepping aside.

“I won’t be long Toshi!” You said cheerfully, pardoning yourself before you entered the home, leaving Goshiki and Ushijima standing at the entrance.

“This is nice wood, is it oak?” Ushijima asked suddenly, his eyes tracing over the large door.

“I don’t know Senpai…”

Silence once again surrounded them, but like you had said, the exchange didn’t take too long as you came walking up to the volleyball players cheerfully.

“All set Toshi! Let’s head out yeah?” you smiled up at him.

He nodded before taking your hand into his and waving goodbye at the male.

“Bye Goshiki! See you around!” you called out behind your shoulder.

Sometimes it was a wonder how you and Ushijima ended up together. The concept of “opposites attract” seemed to be in play for this.

Your bright and bubbly personality contrasted greatly with his. Ushijima’s blunt and rough exterior was the complete opposite of your gentle and easygoing one.

However, you guys shared one trait, and that was the undeniable confidence you guys had in your skills. Ushijima with volleyball, and you with art.

But despite the contrasting personalities, your relationship worked, the love and respect you guys had for one another was always present.

“That was really nice of that lady to give us our own spring. I didn’t even know that a place like this could have private ones!” You said happily as you guys walked towards the changing rooms.

“Yeah.” Ushijima nodded briefly, “see you in a bit.”

You grinned at him widely before skipping off into your own changing room.

You bummed softly to yourself as you began undressing. The showers felt incredible against your skin and you couldn’t help but sigh in content, a trip to the hot springs was something that you definitely needed after working so hard on your commissions.

You carefully wrapped yourself in the towel and started heading towards the spring. The change in temperature caused a shiver to run through your body, shuddering gently as the steam curled around your damp shoulders. You breathed in the soft scent of earth, sighing softly as your body relaxed in the hot springs air.

Your eyes scanned over the area, before pausing on a figure that left your heart racing and your stomach flipping.

Ushijima paid no attention to his surroundings; his stare was focused on the scenery before him. But that gave you plenty of time to drink in the tall male before you.

He was truly the most beautiful person you’ve ever met before. His broad shoulders and rippling back muscles were completely exposed to your greedy eyes.

How you ended up with such a beautiful man was beyond your comprehension.

“What are you waiting for?” His deep voice filtered through the air, your gaze met his olive eyes and you felt your face flush immediately.

“Just appreciating the view.” You said cheekily before dropping your towel and settling yourself down into the water.

A long sigh escaped your lips as you submerged yourself completely. This was heaven; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been to the hot springs, and the fact that you got to spend it with the man you loved the most, it was definitely pure heaven.

“The scenery is very nice here.” he agreed, eyes scanning over the area once more.

You laughed softly at his statement, your hand gently pressing into the bulging muscle of his bicep. “I wasn’t talking about the scenery. I was talking about you Toshi.”

Ushijima felt his expression soften considerably as he looked down at you. You were resting your head against his arm, your eyes closed in absolute bliss.

This time Ushijima decided to scan over you, and fuck… you were the best thing he’s ever seen.

His eyes drank in every inch of your beautiful face, his gaze trailing over the strands of wet hair clinging to your face, wrapping around your collarbone and then your shoulders and…

Oh.

He shamelessly stared at your exposed breasts. He could feel his heart rate beginning to pick up as he started to register in his mind that you… no both of you were extremely bare to one another.

Ushijima couldn’t understand this sudden shyness that began to bubble up in his gut. He had seen you bare so many times before, he’s touched you so many times before, he’s had you in every way that he could think of; and yet… What was this sudden rush of arousal spiking through his blood right now?

Your eyes fluttered open and met intense olive colored ones staring right back. You felt your mouth go dry, your stomach twisting in a way that was all too familiar.

The only times Ushijima has ever looked at you like that was when…

“What is it, Wakatoshi?” You teased slightly, the flush in your face was something that you could blame on the hot water, not the fact that your hunk of a boyfriend was blatantly staring at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“You’re beautiful.” he said simply, reaching out to tug on a strand of your wet hair. His strong, thick fingers gently began trailing against the skin of your throat, skimming across your collarbone. Despite the hot water, you couldn’t help but shiver at his gentle touch.

“I meant… is there something that you want Wakatoshi?” You asked, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stared at him through your lashes.

“You. Always you.” he answered simply; his large hand curving gently around your jaw, cupping your face carefully.

Your stomach twisted pleasantly, an all too familiar burn bubbling deep within your gut, but also... your heart. Once again you were in awe of the man before you, the amount of love you held for him was far too much for your heart to contain, bubbling up and spilling over the longer you looked at him.

“You have me.” you said quietly, carefully pressing yourself closer to him, your hands rested gently against the bare skin of his chest, strong and oh so broad.

“Then kiss me.” he demanded, olive eyes burning into yours. Love and passion could clearly be seen in them.

So, you did. Your hands grabbing at his strong jaw, forcing him to stoop down to your level so you could properly kiss him.

Kissing Ushijima was possibly the best thing on the planet, his lips were full and strong as they moved against yours, unhurried, but incredibly needy and forceful.

His tongue licked against your mouth, hot and wet and deliciously perfect. You eagerly pressed yourself against his large body, melting against him completely. You were too hot, your body overheating immediately.

It was from the hot springs, right? Not from the hunk of a man that was currently grabbing at your bare waist and yanking you tighter against him, right?

Your head spun dizzily, pleasure rippling through your body, a soft whimper tearing through your throat as you felt his growing member press tight against your thigh.

Ushijima heard you, his grip on your body tightened slightly as he continued to devour your mouth. He began moving you, carefully backing you up further away from the deep end of the hot spring, and then your body was being lifted up until you were no longer in the hot water, rather, you were now sitting on the ledge of the hot springs.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your nipples hardening into pebbles under Ushijima’s watchful eyes.

From your perched position on the rocks you could easily kiss Ushijima and he could easily…

“W-What are you doing?” you whimpered out, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your heart was racing, faced flush, as you stared at the tall male.

His large hands were gripping your thighs, carefully moving them apart, his eyes gazing hungrily at your weeping cunt.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked slowly, and then he was stooping down until his face was between your legs… a hot, fat, tongue sliding up your slit.

You gasped loudly, eyes fluttering shut, as you leaned back on one of your elbows, your hand covering your mouth shot out and tangled into his damp hair.

Ushijima hummed slightly, tongue gently flickering against your throbbing clit.

He wanted to do this here? Now?

A thick finger slid easily into your wet entrance, causing your thighs to tremble at the sudden intrusion.

Apparently yes. Yes, he did.

When you finally opened up your eyes, the scene before you was absolutely sinful. Your swollen lips parted in awe as you made eye contact with Ushijima.

His pupils were dilated, the soft olive color completely gone. His wet hair clung to his face, you could see his tongue flickering in and out of his mouth as he continued to eat you out.

How was he so fucking perfect?

“Toshi… please.” you begged, pressure beginning to build up, you were so close, but you wanted him. You wanted his thick cock to stretch you out completely right now.

“Is there something you want?” he asked, voice deep and thick with arousal. His plush lips were wet, coated in your slick.

Oh fuck.

How did he look so fucking good between your legs?

“You. Please. No more foreplay, I want you inside me already, please.” you trembled, watching as he stood to full height.

Your eyes greedily ran down his naked body. He was just so… so fucking big, in so many ways.

The strong muscles of his arms, his chest, his stomach, stood proudly on display for you. But as your eyes traveled lower; you could almost drool over the sight of his erect cock, standing proud and ready to be engulfed in your tight heat.

His fist enclosed over his hard member, pumping up and down his shaft a couple of times before he finally stepped between your trembling legs. Carefully rubbing the head of his cock against your soaked folds, your eyes fluttered at the touch.

But then with a quick snap of his hips he entered you, bottoming out immediately.

His lips slammed down against yours, muffling the loud moan that was about to escape your lips.

Fuck, you were so full. No matter how many times Ushijima had you, you could never quite get used to his large size.

It was almost too much. But he knew that, which was why he waited for a moment, allowing you the time to get used to thick intrusion.

One of his large hands grabbed at your hip, the other was resting near your head against the ground.

After a few moments, your legs wrapped around his thick waist, a silent invitation that he could start moving.

Ushijima didn’t even hesitate, his hips snapping forward, his cock pressing into the deepest part of your tight heat.

The pace of his thrusts was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to fuck you, despite the fact that you guys were at a hot spring.

“Do you hear that?” he murmured; soft squelching could be heard from your lower region. You were absolutely soaked, drenching his thick cock as he slid in and out of you perfectly.

You gripped at his broad shoulders helplessly, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you trembled under his large body.

It was too much… the hot springs, his body, his kisses, the grunts that were coming from his lips, the fact that your boyfriend was fucking you in a public place…

“I’m close.” you squeaked out, nails digging into his skin. The familiar burn, the ache for release; was coming up quickly.

His deep thrusts began to speed up, his hips hammering into you.

“Then cum.” he demanded, his hand reaching down to rub harshly at your swollen clit.

So, you did, gushing around him easily, your slick coating his hard member. He grunted loudly, immediately pulling himself out of you, his fist once again enclosing around his member as he hurriedly pumped himself, searching for release.

Thick ropes of his warmth shot onto your lower belly, hot and heavy against your skin.

You watched tiredly as he brushed the wet hair away from his forehead, his eyes trailing over your bare body, a soft expression easily covering his face now. Carefully he pulled you back into the water, situating you on his lap easily as you rested your head against his strong chest.

You sighed in content as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you Wakatoshi.” you said quietly, you peered up at him, a sweet smile coating your lips.

“I love you too.” he said eyes flickering down at you, a small smile appearing on his face.

A trip to the hot springs was definitely a good idea.

#haikyuu!!#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima haikyuu #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima wakatoshi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima fluff #one shot #ushijima oneshot #haikyuu fanfics #ushijima fanfic #smut #fluff

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

Text

Succession Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2! I hope y'all like it!

Title: Succession Chapter 2

Characters: female reader, Karl Heisenberg, Salvatore Moreau, lycans, mentions of OC

Rating: PG-13 for images of gore, scenes of terror, possible kidnapping trigger warnings

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova has died and you are his sole beneficiary. You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It’s unusual how your senses come back to you when you regain consciousness after a trauma. You couldn’t see at first or maybe it was that your hearing arrived before you opened your eyes. It felt as if a pair of sound cancelling headphones were slowly pulled from your ears. Then followed your sense of touch. Blistering cold hit your skin and seemed to seep in and nestle into your bones. It felt sharp and painful against your cheek as if someone were drawing a scalpel across your flesh. Pain surged to the forefront and with that, you finally opened your eyes.

It was dark inside the cabin of the plane, the only light being the natural light shining through the damage to the hull. The window next to you was shattered and you felt cuts along your arm. The seatbelt had you secured to your seat and it was cutting into your stomach, adding to the all-over pain in your body. The air mask was still secure over your mouth. Lifting your hand shakily to remove the mask, you took in your surroundings.

The wind whipping outside the plane was the only thing you could hear. You listened for the voices of any passengers, whether they be whispers, cries, or shouts for help. It was as quiet as a tomb.

“Br-Bruce?” you whispered, looking towards his seat. The darkened plane made you strain your eyes in order to see him. His body was slumped away from you, his bottom half held still by his seat belt. You slowly reached for him and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you. His body slid against his seat before slumping towards you. His eyes were open. The air mask was over his mouth. You pulled the mask from his head to see if he was breathing. His mouth hung open. He was dead.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, your body beginning to shake. He was the only person you knew on this flight. You didn’t know what to do or who to call out for. “Hello?” you croaked as you lifted your head to look over the seat before you. Your throat was scratchy and sore from the cold air. “Can anyone hear me? Help!!” You were met with silence.

Surely someone had to be alive. You couldn’t be the sole survivor in this crash. Reaching down for the clasp of the seatbelt, you pressed the button and released yourself. You took one last look at Bruce’s lifeless body as you crawled over him and into the aisle. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, running your hand over the top of his head.

The plane was a mangled mess, suitcases and bags strewn everywhere from the impact. Bodies were in the aisle and tossed across seats and hanging over the armrests. “Is anyone alive?” you asked in a raised voice.

You stepped over bodies and suitcases, holding on to the seats on either side of you. The wind from outside blew into the cabin, blowing your hair around your face. You were freezing and quaking from the cold. The clothing you were wearing was not enough to keep you warm. Thankfully, you remembered the flight attendants taking coats at the beginning of the flight and placing them in a small closet towards the front of the plane. Finding the closet, you pried it open, finding the heaviest coat inside, and put it on.

Making your way towards an area that had been split open from the crash, you continued looking around for survivors. You listened closely for any voices, hoping and praying that someone else had survived.

Panic began to set in once you exited the plane. Snow coated the ground. Trees stood gangly and devoid of leaves. The clouds above were thick and vast, hiding any trace of sunlight. You looked around for houses or buildings...for any signs of life.

You trudged around the debris, searching for a path or road that could lead to civilization. The village that you had seen from the plane couldn’t be far from where the plane had crashed. Maybe you could knock on doors and use someone’s phone to call for help. Or the black box...every plane had a black box. Surely someone had been notified that the plane went down or where it disappeared from radar.

You continued walking around the plane, looking high and low for anything. The snow crushed under your shoes. You slipped and fell a few times from icy patches under the snow. Pulling the coat tighter around you, you shoved your hands into the pockets, rubbing your body to keep them warm.

As you were coming back around to where you had exited the plane, a noise came from inside. Suitcases rustled and fell over and you heard an audible grunt. Oh thank god, you thought, someone is alive! Perhaps someone finally regained consciousness and is trying to get out and get help. You ran around the plane and peered inside.

A man was hunched over a body, his clothing tattered and torn. He was pressing on the person’s chest, shaking the body, perhaps trying to perform CPR.

“Hey!” you called out to the man, your voice filled with hope and relief that you were not the only person that survived. The man stopped and slowly turned towards you.

What looked back at you was not the face of a survivor...or that of a human being. Tousled hair laid in a tangled heap on its head. The lips pulled back showing a row of jagged teeth. The eyes were devoid of anything that could be described as a soul. You listened as a low growl slipped from its mouth. Its mouth and hands were covered in blood and only then did it dawn on you that it was not performing CPR...it was feasting on the body.

“What the fuck?!?” you yelped, falling backwards in the snow. You scrambled away as the thing crawled from inside of the plane, advancing towards you. It let out a loud bark and a snarl, its eyes absolutely feral.

You jumped to your feet, turning to retreat and let out a loud scream. Two other things just like the one behind you blocked your escape. They were equally as terrifying...eyes, claws, fangs, and tattered clothing. What the hell were they??

You broke off to your right and ran towards the trees, hoping to lose them in the forest. A loud howl sounded from one of them and the other two snarled deep in their throats. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you ran as fast as your legs could take you. Adrenaline pumped throughout your body. You did not risk looking behind you for fear that it would hinder your escape.

The sound of their feet running in the sloshy snow began to increase and you knew they were getting closer. Oh god, oh god, they’re gonna kill me!

You saw a flash of something from the corner of your eye before feeling a large form shove into you and send you flying into a hill of snow. Rolling onto your back, you looked as a fourth monster stood before you, drool dripping from its teeth. It wrapped its hand around the tree next to it and stared you down.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” you yelled. The other three that had been chasing you joined up with the fourth and you knew that you were no match for all of them. Your heart beat wildly and you were frozen with fear, not knowing when they were going to pounce. One of them lunged forward, its hand gripping your ankle. As it leered over you, it let out a howl...and you screamed.

“Stop!” a voice sounded from behind the beasts. All four creatures stopped and turned towards the voice, standing straight and obedient. They parted and allowed the person to approach.

Person...the thing that approached you was not a person, but also was not like the feral animals that had been chasing you. Your eyes went wide and your mouth dropped open as a hunchbacked figure started hobbling towards you and the creatures. A large black cloak covered its body. As it came closer, you noticed long, thin arms...a humped back with a rippled form...and thin legs that ambled slowly towards you. The creatures watched the thing walk past them and closer to you. The face was grotesque, jagged teeth sticking out from under gray lips. The skin was pale and appeared sickly. An intense odor of fish and sweat formed around it. You had to breathe through your mouth to keep from gagging.

“Are y-you okay?” the thing asked, hobbling closer to you. Panic and adrenaline still surged in your body and you crawled backwards to keep distance between the two of you. He noticed and stopped, slowly lifting his hands in front of him. “Don’t be sc-scared,” the thing stammered, “I won’t hu-hurt you. And the lycans...won’t hurt...you ei-either.”

You looked back at the four monsters that stood behind the hunchback. They stood still, snarling and breathing heavily. The wind rustled the hair on their heads. The thing before you took another step forward and held out his hand. “My name...is...Salvatore Moreau,” he said, beckoning you to take his hand.

You stood on your own, falling backwards a few steps in order to keep your distance. Moreau whimpered and bent forward, taking a step back in order to respect your boundaries. “I won’t touch...you...I don’t...w-want you to be...afraid of m-me…”

His words made you lessen your defenses a bit. He looked like a monster just like the wolf-like creatures behind him, but none of them advanced on you or tried to harm you. You finally found your voice.

“I was in a plane crash,” you murmured, unsure of what to do next, “I don’t think anyone else is alive…”

Moreau looked back towards the wreckage and then over at the things behind him. Upon seeing one of them covered in fresh blood, he turned back towards you. “My lycans...sm-smelled fresh blood...they always run...towards...fre-fresh blood…”

You winced at the man’s deformed figure and his stuttered ramblings. Who were these things? Where the fuck were you?

“Can you help me?” you asked warily, taking a step towards him, “is there a phone? Can we call for help?”

Moreau bent forward in a coughing fit and retched. Green vomit gushed from his mouth and into the white snow. Steam rose from the vomit and you couldn’t stop yourself from gagging and putting your hand over your mouth. He heaved a few more times before looking back at you. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “the fish...and my body...they don’t get a-along…”

What the fuck is going on, you thought. Was this an area that had fallen victim to radiation or poisoning in the water system? You tried to calculate in your mind how far away you were from Chernobyl...maybe what was going on here was similar to what went on there all those years ago.

“The only...ph-phone is at Alcina’s castle…” Moreau continued.

The castle?! The castle that you saw from overhead?! This was perfect! Maybe you could call for help and find your way to the embassy in this country and let them know that you were on a plane to Moldova. Surely the airline will wonder why their plane did not touch down at its destination and come looking for survivors.

“Can you take me to the castle, Mr. Moreau?” you asked, the first ounce of hope shining through.

“What the fuck is going on over here?!?!?!”

A gruff voice sounded from behind the lycans and all of you turned towards the sound. You watched as a man trudged through the snow, making his way over to the motley crew. He wore a black wide brimmed hat and a long brown trench coat with a tan shirt and brown pants underneath. A massive hammer sat across his shoulder with one hand gripping the long handle. The man’s gaze went from each lycan to Moreau...and finally resting on you.

“Well...who do we have here?” the man asked, pushing his way past Moreau. Upon closer inspection you saw that the man wore a pair of rounded lens sunglasses. You heard the clang of metal hanging around his neck as he moved closer. An amused smile spread across his mouth. You cleared your throat audibly.

“My name is Y/N and I was on the plane that crashed a few yards that way,” you murmured, pointing back towards the wreckage. Despite not being able to see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze. It was piercing, searching...as if he could see deep inside of you. It was equal parts unnerving and exhilarating, although you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

“Is that so?” the man asked, swinging his hammer around and setting it down in the snow. He stepped in front of you, holding out his hand. You kept your gaze on his face as you placed your hand in his. “My name is Karl Heisenberg,” he greeted, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it. You shivered at his kiss, not knowing what came over you. It felt as if electrical charges flowed from his lips and down your skin, making your flesh erupt in goose bumps.

“Poor little pussycat,” Heisenberg remarked, looking you up and down, “the wreckage looks unbelievable. You must be positively traumatized…”

You nodded your head and lowered your hand back to your side. A gust of wind shook you to your core and you tightened the coat around yourself. “Umm...yes...Mr. Moreau here was telling me that there was a phone nearby...we could call for help…”

Heisenberg slowly turned his gaze back towards Moreau. You looked past him and saw that the deformed man cowered under Heisenberg’s gaze, taking a step backwards as if contemplating fleeing. Heisenberg turned back to you and flashed you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, my dear,” Heisenberg said, reaching to pick up his hammer, “come with me and we will surely find aid and assistance in the village…”

“We could ask Mother…” Moreau began, taking a step towards you and Heisenberg.

“Shut up, you freak!” Heisenberg snapped at Moreau. Your jaw dropped as you looked between the two men. Moreau bowed his head and retreated a few steps. You felt sorry for the poor man as you looked up at Karl Heisenberg and started to feel disdain for the man. Moreau was about to offer advice and was met with hostility. The poor man was not pleasant to look at, sure, but from what you could tell, he was harmless and seemed sincere and ready to help. You would sooner ask for Moreau’s help than Heisenberg’s help at that point.

“Thank you, Mr. Heisenberg,” you began, “but Moreau was telling me of a phone in a castle not far from here that I could use…” But as you were about to continue, Heisenberg held his hand up to silence you.

“Forgive me for my brash tone,” Heisenberg interrupted, “but my brother here does not know what he is talking about. Please, if you would accompany me to my factory, I have a working telephone there that you can use…”

You felt a growing sliver of fear in the pit of your stomach. The man before you was charismatic and confident, but there was something off about him.

“I think I’ll follow Moreau…” you murmured, moving around Heisenberg to go to Moreau. A sudden movement and Heisenberg’s gloved hand wrapped around your arm, stopping your retreat.

“Oh, no, ma’am...I insist you come with me…” Heisenberg growled.

You tried to pull your arm from his grasp, but his fingers only tightened. His grip began to hurt. “Let go of me,” you said, trying to pull away. He jerked your body closer to him as he looked down into your frightened face.

“There is no use arguing or putting up a fight, pussycat,” Heisenberg leered, “you’re coming with me…” And with that, he released your arm and swiftly wrapped his arm around your waist, hauling you against him, and walked back from where he came.

“MOREAU!” you screamed as Heisenberg marched away with you in tow. Heisenberg turned towards the man and shot him a murderous glare. “You keep your mouth shut about this…” he spat at Moreau, “...not a fucking word or I’ll kill you…” The hunchback only nodded and bowed his head.

“STOP! LET GO!! MOREAU!” you shouted, wriggling against Heisenberg’s grip on your waist. The feeble man only stood there helpless, looking down at the snow. His lycans began their retreat, disappearing into the forest.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Moreau whimper as Heisenberg dragged you off.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #daddy heisenberg #house heisenberg #heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic

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idesofrevolution · 4 years

Photo

Here y’all go. Hope you like it.

Look at him, isn’t he adorable? I’d been watching him and his college friends playing ball every Saturday from my balcony. Each time, I’m hearing him talk about “slamming pussy” and “playin’ the game” as if he knows what that means. Jock boys always think the world of themselves, and sometimes for good reason. Every now and again, I look back on my own days at that age, fondly remembering all the bullshit trouble got myself into. I’m telling you- once you hit a certain age, you just want to relive those debaucherous days again; and hearing this little shit wasting those years degrading the ladies... I knew I could do so much better with his assets.

So into my mind popped a little idea. We’re living in a world of infinite possibilities, and using a few tricks and a whole lot of ingenuity you can really access some more unattainable goals. For instance, knowing the local voodoo priestess can be an invaluable advantage. Miss Marie had lived across the hall for as long as anyone could remember, and she had the respect and fear of everyone she met. So for a few hundred dollars and debt or two to her, she gave me a little gris gris which she insinuated could help little old me up my game.

With bag in hand, I had to make my move. That Saturday I watched with bated breath as the boys were shooting hoops and talking shit until the sun went down. When the streetlamps went on, one by one they departed and left the ladykiller waiting on his Uber. As he sat there flipping through Tinder on his phone, I whispered the incantation that Miss Marie had taught me. Three times I repeated it, never once breaking my gaze on him. Upon the fourth recitation, I saw him suddenly throw his phone on the ground in rage. He tossed the basketball across the street and started to pace back and forth. Calling down to him, I “checked in on him.”

“Hey! You alright?” He looked up to my balcony and grimaced.

“Shut the fuck up ya fruity bitch! Phone’s dead that’s all! Mind your business!” I chuckled and leaned against the railing, watching my hateful prey unknowingly within my clutches. Thinking his Uber was on it’s way, he sat down on the curb and pouted to himself. Five minutes turned to forty minutes and with his ride nowhere in sight, he played right into my hand. “Ay! Fag! Got a charger or somethin?” A smirk crawled across my face and I waved him over to my building and buzzed him up.

Now truth be told, I had no idea what to expect. Marie didn’t exactly explain how the gris gris would work, nor did she break down how to initiate the plan. So when he knocked on my door, I’d be lying if I said I was entirely understanding of what I was doing. I swung the heavy old door open and there he stood. Glistening with sweat and a scowl on his pretty boy face with his beat up skateboard in tow.

“So where’s the charger?” He looked me up and down, disapprovingly looking at my big belly and old biker tattoo sleeves. Back in the day, I rode with my crew from coast to coast, fuckin’ every stud, twink, and bear that came my way. But the years hadn’t been too kind to me, and from the look on his face he sure didn’t see me the way that those boys back then did. Convincing myself to swallow my pride, I tossed him an iPhone charger and pointed him to the living room outlet. Plugging it in, he plopped down on my couch, and completely ignored my existence. Muttering under his breath, I could tell his Uber had cancelled.

“You can stay here until your car gets here.” I leaned against the hallway arch, taking in his steaming muscles. He clearly worked out in addition to all the days and hours of basketball. And damn... did he smell like hours of and hours of basketball. It was my favorite scent- raw testosterone, absolute masculinity, untempered musk; and his was STRONG.

“Bet your ass I’m getting the fuck out of your creepin’ ass house when this car gets here.” He thought he was so hood, so badass. He had no clue. Soon, though, he’d learn how to be a real man. Soon he’d be more than just a basic pretty boy frat kid. He started coughing gently, trying to hide it behind his phone screen, but the coughs grew louder and heavier. “Yo, get me some water!” I smiled.

“Get it yourself, bitch.” He whipped his head in my direction and tried to jump up, but realized he could barely move. It was as if he had no breath. “Oh, you’re feelin weak, huh? Why don’t you call your friends and they can come pick you up.” He tried to reach for his phone, but his arm had all but given out. Panic set in behind his cruel, mean spirited eyes and for the first time I saw him for who he really was behind the muscles, good lucks, and put on swagger: a little homophobic bitch who was in over his head. I walked over to him and plopped down on the couch next to him. His smell was strong and virile, full of youthful pheromones that he knew were a gift straight from God. I tested the waters and lifted his limp arm, exposing his wet pits. Assaulted, I tell you, I was assaulted by the sharp fragrance that poured from the hairy confines. He could do no more than a whiny whimper as I buried my nose and tongue into his armpit.

“Well, fuck, kid. It’s been a fuckin’ bitch knowing you. But it’s gonna be one hell of a good time bein’ you.” I saw the last of his pathetic consciousness fade away. Where it went I neither knew nor cared; all that was left was his empty, hollow husk. Curious, I brought my fingers to his plump lips and pried. A sound I can only describe as stretching elastic rang through the room as I pulled and pulled. Looking inside, he was hollow, albeit padded with slick flesh that outlined his impressive musculature. Letting go, his face snapped back to normal. He was ready.

I eagerly stripped, thinking of all the adventures I could relive from within him; thinking of the numerous opportunities that I could snatch with his glorious body and my confident mind. Laying him down, I stuck my toe into his mouth and pushed. After a few thrusts downward, my foot slid down his throat. It took a solid minute for me to weasel my second foot into the tight confines of his slimy mouth and down his throat, but they were soon both slipping down his torso, through his muscled legs and landing in his tight feet. I was several sizes larger than he, so his tiny size 7s felt like a pair of tiny, wet rubber socks to my size 13s. Yet, after a little adjusting, they looked amazing at my size. I brought one to my face, pressing the damp soles on my nose, taking in the salty, rank funk that emanated from between his toes. I stood up, his mouth around my ankles making my a little wobbly. I grabbed his waist and pulled up, watching his legs slip over mine. The sheer size of my pudgy calves and thighs seemed to be suctioned into his, adding my mass to his musculature. He would be so much better at my 6′2 than his 5′9.

After a hefty tug, my bloated ass was sucked into his, tightening and firming into an ass any stud would kill to plow, and anyone would kill to plunge their tongue into. Sauntering over to my mirror, I saw a toned, gorgeous lower half, with my tubby top pouring over our waist. My cock was pressed tightly against my groin, since I’d forgotten to slip it into his when my ass was... compacted. I stuck my meaty hands beneath our skin and tried to grab my shaft, leading it towards his. The kid wasn’t packin’ anything impressive. I guess his ladies didn’t have high standards for dick. But I’ll tell you when my thick rod was slurped into his, it was like I was thrusting inside the tightest fleshjack I’ve ever used. Looking down, I smiled at a girthy, 10 inch, uncut fuckstick. I swiped my finger underneath my new foreskin and took a deep sniff. Fuck. Yes. It was unreal. The cocksmell was so strong yet so addictive, it was as if it was dripping manliness in odorous form.

I knew that there was building pressure from within, and that the midsection would be the hardest thrust. So, I readied myself. Getting my footing underneath, I took a deep breath and held it in. With as much strength as I could muster, I tugged upward and my bulging belly was gulped into his skin with a loud “shlorp.” This took my body a moment to adjust, with a hefty beer gut protruding from my stomach, but after a deep belch, a set of washboard abs was there before me. To my surprise, and glee, some of my tattoos had transferred to my new skin, which gave me hope for the sleeves I’d grown to love.

Speaking of which, it was time for me to thrust my arms into his, which seemed entirely easier than my stomach. I slipped on his arms like gloves, the sensation of touch returning to my fingertips as they slipped into his. Looking at the mirror, it seemed only a fraction of my sleeve transferred over. Oh well, better than nothing! His shoulders snapped over mine, and I stood there in all my nude glory- with his jaw around my throat. I was ready. I was so ready to begin anew. I grabbed the jaw, matching his bottom lip to mine, and pulled his face over mine like a silicone mask. It suctioned to my head and within seconds I opened my eyes to a new man.

I was incredible. My face was an amalgamation of both our likenesses, the best of both worlds. I winked at my new self, testing out my old cocky smoulder. I still got it, and hell, I would be using it a whole fuckin’ lot. A knock on the door woke me from my eyefucking and walked over to the door. Opening it, there stood Marie. She looked me up and down and rolled her eyes.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s a bonafide stud once again.” I smirked, and let her in. “Phew... Boy you’re fragrant. But then again, I’m sure the boys you fuck are into that sort of thing huh?” Smiling, I lifted my arms, and took in my scent. Better than poppers. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? You agreed to the terms, now it’s time to pay up.” I plopped down on the couch, preparing to hear the terms of my debt.

“What you need, baby?” She grabbed me by the cheeks, looking her straight in the eye. All color must’ve flooded from my face.

“Your big blue eyes aren’t gonna get you anywhere with me, son. You are to do as I say, do you hear me?” I nodded silently. “I need followers, boy. Followers. Those who are willing to do what I need done, and in exchange... I’ll add them to your little crew. When I tell you to get something done, I need it done, you hear me?” I nod. “Now when I say go get some more boys, ma cher, you understand what I’m saying, yeah?” I smile as she lets go of my cheeks. “Enjoy your immortality, baby. I’ll be in touch.” With that, she tosses me some clothes as she walks out my door.

It’s been three weeks since that day, and the old man in the flat is nowhere to be seen. His ‘son’ Sebastian has since taken over the lease, and become something of a staple in the community. Always makin the ladies swoon, and the guys drip. Always there to end a fight with a swift K.O. to the chin. Always happy to help a down-on-their-luck neighbor. But most importantly, always looking for new people call ‘family.’

WELP. Introducing a potentially new recurring character: Sebastian the Voodoo King. Let me know what you think of him through asks, and what you’d like to see him to HERE. Have a dope day, kids. Hope this is everything y’all wanted.

#male possession #male bodysuit #male transformation #badass transformation #swagification #jock possession #musk #smelly #gay possession #weird af #original #male takeover #revenge #jockification #body possession #male tf

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

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picwew · 3 years

Photo

SQUAD UP! It’s time for Yuna and his crew of miscreant demons!

(Picrews are here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here!)

The characters are, top to bottom, left to right--

Nakajima, Yuna: A human with unusually high magical potential. His specialty is the binding of demons into servitude, which he utilizes to stop particularly troublesome demons from threatening human populations across the globe. Most of the demons under his care were seduced by him, as he has quite a knack for making men want him. As such, several of his servants are vying for his favor, but, in his own words, “I don’t play favorites~”

Obviously, Yuna is a bit of a flirt. His tastes extend well beyond demons, into just about any non-human he can get his hands on. He has a ravenous appetite for handsome men, but no plans to settle down any time soon. It isn’t that romance doesn’t appeal to him, more that he’s still young and a little too free-spirited for anything permanent. The way he dotes on his servants, though, you’d certainly think he was in love with them, Nihil in particular.

Mourning Dove: Affectionately referred to by his coworkers as “Dovey”, this little fellow was the first of Yuna’s servants, and is therefore his most staunch defender. The details of his past are hazy, even in his own mind, but he was born into the slave trade, nameless, nothing, the psychological toll of which would not become apparent until his eventual escape. He was full of hatred for the humans who had callously treated him as property, and claimed many lives before Yuna was able to soothe his aching heart. “You’re pretty as a mourning dove,” Yuna told him. From that moment on, he decided that this would be his name.

Dovey is, above all, an empath. Much of his time recovering from a life of slavery was spent learning to feel again. Once he got the hang of it, however, he found that he felt a little too much, so much so that he’s become somewhat of a crybaby. When others are in pain, he is often the one to comfort them. His sweet disposition and cute appearance have earned him his coworkers’ love, although they still get a bit miffed with him whenever he tries to hog Yuna’s attention.

Dr. Callaway: An interesting case, and a tough nut to crack. Only Yuna knows his full name; no one knows his story. All he’s shared is that he was fingered for human experimentation, and that, no, he has neither learned his lesson nor wishes to. Still, he behaves himself well enough, perhaps because he is entirely obsessed with Yuna in the most unhealthy way. While most of his coworkers consider one another family, Dr. Callaway is detached and often mocking of their sentimentality.

As expected, Dr. Callaway is a terrible sadist. He takes great pleasure in hurting others in any way he can. Nowadays, this is limited almost entirely to insults and threats, but he has been known to get physical with others when Yuna isn’t looking. It doesn’t help that nothing seems to bother him in return. You could beat the man senseless, and he’d come out of it grinning like a jackal.

Corvo: This one was a misunderstanding--or, rather, a case of cultures clashing in a very gruesome manner. Corvo is a hybrid of demon and crowkin. Beastkin are not true demons, but are often lumped in with them, so mixed-race families are not uncommon. Unfortunately, this can lead to some problematic offspring, particularly when one or both of the parents are detached from human society. Corvo, like many crowkin, was taught that food is food, and that human meat is the most delicious of all. He bore no ill will toward humans, but his view of them as, essentially, cattle culminated in a visit from Yuna.

Following his binding, Corvo began the lengthy process of finding something he liked more than human flesh. This, as it turned out, was sweets--all sweets, from pastries, to ice cream, to candy. He had never had sweets before, and everyone agreed that they suited his bubbly, affectionate personality more than human flesh anyway. He is certainly the gentlest of all of Yuna’s servants, dedicated to his family and to protecting those in need. He’s especially fond of cats.

Erebus: Known by those who worship him as the Master of Crows, Erebus is an ill-understood being. He is ancient, but has had little to do with his own kind since time out of mind. Instead, he appears to have become so entwined with his worshipers that he can no longer live without their faith to sustain him. During the Northern Crusades, a great many of them were persecuted for their faith, and Erebus fell into a centuries-long slumber. Only when his followers began to grow in number again did he wake--and command those loyal to him to seek vengeance for their fallen brethren. Naturally, Yuna had a thing or two to say about that.

Erebus is highly asocial, but does not dislike his coworkers. It would be a stretch to say he views them as family; even so, he gets along well with them on the rare occasion Yuna can talk him out of his comfortable pocket of darkness. As the oldest of his colleagues, he is respected and even admired, but he cares little for the love of his own kind. He desires mortal love, which he receives through his worshipers. Due to their number still being relatively low, you’ll rarely catch him awake. Only Yuna seems able to rouse him, and only because Yuna is his “most cherished one”.

Mage: A troublemaker with a bark worse than his bite--but he can and will bite, so mind your fingers. Like Dr. Callaway, his true name is known only to Yuna. His coworkers know him as Mage, taken from Magenta, the name of the rather nasty chemical he produces to draw in his prey. He doesn’t harm them, but he has seduced many a married man away from his wife. Causing strife among couples is what he does best. As an incubus, he finds the taste of a married man’s energy too sweet to resist. So, of course, when he found himself seduced by Yuna, he was completely baffled--and absolutely obsessed. He still toys with married men now and then, when he gets the chance, but spends most of his time trying to talk Yuna back into bed.

Though rare, Mage can be persuaded to bust heads, and does so with the best of ‘em. He’s highly territorial, meaning that although he rather likes his colleagues, he often tangles up with them over Yuna’s affection. He is particularly hostile toward Nihil, who rather delights in teasing Mage with his closeness to their master. Outside of his romantic conflicts with his housemates, he tends to be rather lackadaisical, spending much of his free time lounging on every comfortable surface available. People find his presence enjoyable due to his easygoing disposition and passion for mischief.

Nihil: Of all the demons under Yuna’s employ, Nihil is the one who has come closest to winning his heart. Theirs is a strangely intimate relationship, one which Yuna insists is platonic--and yet, Nihil is at his side always, his obedient shadow. Of course, they weren’t always so close. Nihil is an inherently violent, cruel man whose sole purpose in life is to cause as much pain and grief as he possibly can. He is absolutely, positively insane, for no other reason than this is how he believes a demon should be. This is his aesthetic, and a demon’s aesthetic is absolute. He minds his P’s and Q’s now that he’s bound to Yuna, but never lets his “family” forget what he is, Yuna least of all.

Nihil loves no being, except, by his own admission, Yuna. He teases his master constantly, always pushing his limits, always pushing his buttons. “I am your loyal dog,” is a favorite line of his, spoken, with a pointed smile, whenever Yuna asks something of him. For some reason, it never fails to fluster Yuna, which allows Nihil to worm himself further into his darling’s heart. Unlike his colleagues, he is not afraid to get physical with Yuna, and many of their more heated arguments have ended in the bedroom. Whether Nihil actually enjoys servitude remains to be seen, but for Yuna, he would pull the moon from the sky.

Pox: The general consensus on Pox is “unfriendly, but not unbearable”. A life of self-isolation has made him difficult to approach, even more difficult to befriend, especially given that everyone he’s ever loved, he has killed. He is a demon of sickness, of plague and of rot, of suffering so old as to be carved into the bones of the earth. When he was young, he could not control the disease that spread from him. Though his mortal mother tried desperately to guide him, eventually, she was overcome, and Pox left the village he had once called home, now populated only by the dead and dying. He learned then that he could not live among his mother’s people, but he knew nothing of his father’s. Rather than seek them out and put them at risk as well, he exiled himself to the outskirts of human society, interacting with it only when necessary. With time, he came to understand his power, and was able to control it--but his peaceful life came to an end when one of the few humans he had allowed himself to love was killed in a botched robbery. Pox designated himself judge, jury, and executioner, and it wasn’t long before Yuna showed up on his doorstep.

Pox hides his self-loathing under a cold, hard outer shell. His mask is flawless, perfected through a lifetime of guilt, and he allows no one near enough to break it. His coworkers believe that they are despised by him, but in truth, he loves each of them with every inch of himself. Saying so is difficult, though, and such an admission would only encourage them to endanger themselves. He may be in complete control of his magic most days, but there are times even now when he catches himself slipping. He is desperate to protect Yuna and the strange family they have all built together, so much so that he would rather suffer in silence than risk their lives asking for help.

Seta Sericum: The peculiarity of his name has led to his coworkers calling him Silky, a moniker which he has accepted only begrudgingly. Silky is a Nephalem, the product of a love between angel and demon. Typically, his fathers’ love for one another would have ended in tragedy, but the two stayed together even after their angelic half was cast from divinity. Silky was raised in a happy home, albeit a mobile one; his fathers couldn’t risk staying in one place for too long, lest the Church track them down. Ultimately, it was the Church, their greatest fear, that was their end. They were cut down while protecting Silky, who was forced to flee in the vain hope that his absence might somehow save his fathers. The Church searched for him, but he had hidden himself well. Now an orphan, he swore vengeance on his parents’ murderers--and he got it too, once he was old enough to control his immense magical power. He despises the Church, but killed only those among its ranks who had directly harmed him. Regardless, Yuna came for him, and he submitted to servitude as recompense.

Silky’s demonic father was a real fop of a man, and his son is no different now that he’s had a chance to adjust to a normal life. He insists that everyone pull their own weight, that everything be in its place at all times, and has a fondness for indulgences such as expensive wine and imported chocolates. Without these little luxuries, he would surely have gone mad, for both his mischievous master and his trouble-making housemates frustrate him to no end. He has tried, with mixed success, to serve as a role model for them, but, oh, they are all such children. Dovey is far too naive, Dr. Callaway is far too sadistic, Corvo is far too oblivious, Mage is far too flirtatious, Nihil is far too violent, Pox is far too cold, and Vincent is far too reclusive. Erebus, at least, is well-behaved, though Silky thinks he could stand to mingle more with the group.

Vincent Blythe: On the forefront of medical progress during the Victorian Era, Dr. Vincent Blythe has become little more than a shell of his former self. When his prostitute mother was murdered by one of her stags, something snapped in him. He began targeting, torturing, and finally killing any man who frequented brothels or whom he had seen with street-walkers, believing himself to be the protector of his mother’s people. It was only then when he realized he was something more than human. His father, it turned out, had been a demon who had fallen terribly in love with his mother, but whose feelings had been spurned by her. After receiving a near-fatal wound in a skirmish with a prominent vampire hunter of the day, Vincent tucked himself away in a dark corner of London to heal. He slept for over a century, and when he woke, attempted to pick up where he’d left off. Confused, his trauma still fresh in his mind, he killed all who drew near. Phone calls were made, flights were booked, and Yuna arrived on scene to bring him back to his senses.

Vincent is terribly withdrawn. On the one hand, he is distrustful of all humans, and men in particular frighten him. On the other hand, he has had little to no experience with his own kind, and so struggles to fit in among them. He finds himself at an impasse, unable to shake the trauma of his mother’s murder, and equally unable to bond with his father’s kin. Because of this, he is prone to bouts of violent madness when he feels that he is being threatened, or when he wakes from particularly vivid nightmares, in which he witnesses his mother’s murder and can do nothing to stop it. Dr. Callaway has oft remarked that Vincent is a genius, a true medical prodigy, and that it is too bad he’s so “broken”.

#picrew #male ocs #demon ocs

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hereliesanotherfic · 3 years

Text

MtP: Little Tease

Ship: Albert James Moriarty x Reader Show: Yuukoku No Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot) Rating: Pg 13?? Warnings: Teasing, flirting, suggestions Prompt: “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

______________________________________

You let out a soft yawn as you headed towards your living quarters in the manor, the Moriarty Manor to be exact. It was a long day of basic duties, but it never bothered you, quite the opposite- it was a pleasure working for the Moriarty men. William, Louis, and Albert were all incredibly generous, especially Albert. Over the couple years you have worked for them, he grew incredibly sweet towards you. He’d allow you lifts home in the carriage when out in the town, he’s aided you in the kitchen while you cooked or did the dishes, he allowed you some days off here and there just to rest. Not to say him or his brothers didn’t do this with other servants, but you and the other help noticed Albert did it most often for you.

But when he’s been alone with you, it’s been a bit more.

Moment One:

“Master Albert!” You exclaimed stepping out of the tailor shop, his carriage parked in front with him standing outside it.

“Hello (y/n),” he smiled softly. “I noticed you about town and wondered if you were finished? We could go home together,” he hummed, his voice as smooth as velvet. You choked down the frog in your throat, his choice of words made you sound more intimate with him in public which made your pulse race in embarrassment…or…excitement? Nevertheless, you nodded.

“That’d be nice! Thank you, kindly Master Albert!” You smiled, following his wave to come towards the carriage. The driver took your tailored dress and stowed it away and you stepped into the vehicle. Your heart bumped as you felt a light graze on your lower back as you hopped up. He was spotting you while you stepped inside, he probably didn’t mean to touch you. Albert stepped in after and took a seat besides you. It was a bit odd to sit next to him, but his presence was oddly comforting too.

“You know you do not have to call me Master, (y/n)” Albert spoke, his emerald eyes turning to contact yours.

“…I know you’ve said it before…though it feels too strange to say it while in town…”

“Do you think I have not noticed you still do not call me Albert at the manor as well?” You broke eye contact and bit your bottom lip, but he knew he got you before that. “I’d like to hear it.”

You slowly looked back up to him, confused by his request. “Wh-what?”

“ ‘Albert’,” he grinned slyly at you, closing the distance between you two a little bit. You heart started banging against your chest and you felt your cheeks flush a bit. The space in the carriage was small, the distance between you both was now small, and there was no way out from his eye contact. Albert tilted his head slightly. “Please?” Oh, he was absolutely trying to kill you with kindness (and your internal crush on him). You swallowed a bit heavy.

“…A-…Al..bert…” You said his name slowly, the foreign feeling of no honorifics was strange, but it also left a good tingly feeling on your tongue and in your heart. You saw his smile grow large and pure as he sat back into his seat properly.

“That made me happy, (y/n), thank you,” he said, staring out the window now. It took a moment for you to take your eyes off him. You didn’t think that’d make him so happy.

Moment Two:

“Preparing for our guests tonight (y/n?),” You glanced up from your cutting board to see Albert standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was dressed in his clean white button-up and blue slacks. For a moment, you wondered where his jacket was, but the way his shirt hugged his figure, you were glad it was missing. You looked back down to the pepper you were cutting before you mind and eyes began to wander too far.

“Yes sir, there’s a lot to do before they arrive.”

“Ah, then I am sure I can be of assistance!” He stepped to the closet and pulled on a fresh apron.

“Master Albert, you don’t have to worry yourself with that, I have plenty of time.” He stepped over next to you on your left side as he finished tying the apron, pulling over another cutting board that was on the table.

“It’s no worry, if anything I am sure this will be enjoyable to cook with you.” Albert picked a clean knife from the rack, so thankfully he missed your light blush. “What else do we need to chop?”

“Uh, some onions are next, they are on the right side of me under the counter,” you stated, motioning your head to the side. Albert nodded as he stepped behind you and leaned down to reach for the onions. Suddenly, you felt his large, left hand placed firmly on your waist, which caused you to feel his balance shimmy. To catch himself and pull himself straight up again, he pulled up directly into you, his chest flush against your back, hand still on your waist, the bag of onions in this other hand. You could feel his breath just ghosting over your neck and ear, it was so light but it was there. “A-Albert?!” You quietly exclaimed in the moment, staring in random spots on the table to try to gain some sanity.

“I’m sorry (y/n),” Your body tensed as his breathy words breezed over your ear—when did his face get that close?! “I slipped, I’ll be more careful,” he finished. With that, he stood besides you again and began chopping onions like nothing happened.

It was small events like that, but your heart was about to explode every time. So at this late hour, the last person you expected to see outside your living quarter was Albert Moriarty, standing beside your door.

“M-master Albert?” You questioned, gaining his attention, he looked up from his thoughts and smiled to you softly.

“(Y/n)…” He hummed. Albert’s eyes glanced you from head to toe, and very subtly licked his bottom lip. You missed both of those. “I’d like to have a word with you, but I figured you’d be tired from the long day, so it’s best to speak inside.”

“Oh…okay, yah, sure,” You nodded quickly and stepped over to the door to unlock it. You didn’t think there was anything else to do, but the idea of Albert in your room sent you down a roller coaster of emotions. He requested to speak with you privately in your room, you were a person of no place to say no, even with the Moriarty generosity. You pushed the door open and stepped aside for him to walk in. Albert looked around your room, simply decorated, the queen bed was nicely made, curtains open and a soft lilac candle burning on a small desk you had. Closing the door, you slowly walked up to him while he was observing. “What can I do for you Master Albert?”

“ ‘Al-bert’,” he looked down to you, an amused smile on his lips. You eyes widened for a moment before glancing away again.

“I..I can’t get use to it sir, you’re of a nobility family, I’m just here to serve you no matter the generosity you share. I still have to respect you.”

“Respect isn’t solely based on a title, I know well that you hold my brothers and I in high regards,” the brunette confirmed, turning to fully face you. “However, I really want you to call me by my name (y/n).” Your cheeks flushed a light pink, hoping that the light of the candle in the room and low moonlight weren’t enough for him to see. He was only two feet away though…

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?” Your voice was hesitant, and he caught that. He let out a little chuckle.

“No, I understand how it will take some time to get use to that. I came for another reason.” You stared up at him, Albert was thriving on your full, undivided attention. He wanted your (e/c) to stare at him all the time, your voice to play its tune all the time, he had fallen for you a while ago, but you never seemed to notice the small attempts he made. Or, what he truly believes, was that the social hierarchy made you believe he couldn’t be attracted to someone ‘like you’. And the more he observed you, the more he knew he was right, and you were just afraid to openly fall for him. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

Your heart immediately smashed against your chest at that request, and now you couldn’t stop your face from turning as red as a tomato. Did he really, I mean REALLY, just request to sleep in your room tonight? His green orbs continued to stare warmly at you, waiting for an answer. In truth, Albert was loving how red your cheeks were, how flustered such a simple request got you. He knew you liked him, but he wanted you to admit it for yourself and not be afraid of others stupid opinions.

“(Y/n?)?” Albert spoke, stepping slightly forward and tilting his head closer to you. The proximity snapped you out of it and you jumped back slightly.

“Ahh-hh,…um…isn’t there-..I mean…b-but there are…” Your brain tried to think of multiple reasons at once why he shouldn’t and scrambled them all out at the same time. Albert let out a small laugh.

“(Y/n), please relax. The guestrooms are taken by Moran and Fred right now, and I could never ask such a favor of another servant.” He stepped close to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and guide you to look at him. “You and I know each other well, you’ve worked here long. We trust each other. I’d prefer to share a room with someone like you.” His free hand reached up and brushed the hair away from your face as you stared at him in awe and disbelief. That hand joined in cupping you free cheek as the distance between you two grew smaller.

“Please?” Albert spoke barely above a whisper, his eyes half lidded as he stared into yours. You could feel his breath on your face as the gap got smaller. You internally panicked. Wherever this was going it couldn’t be good. It just couldn’t—he was a noble, the head of the Moriarty family! Sharing a room, no honorifics, aiding you, it couldn’t mean anything good for you. You had to cut it off…move…MOVE DAMMIT!

The voices screaming in your head all stopped the moment you felt his lips press to yours. Albert’s lips were incredibly soft, his fingers grazing your cheeks as he held you gently. It was light against you, his lips nicely encasing your top lip. He barely separated your lips as he turned his head slightly to the other side and kissed your bottom lip with a bit more firmness. The cologne he was wearing was aiding your high, it let out scents of soft sandalwood, some amber and something in it gave it a bit of a musky scent. For a kiss that only lasted under a minute, it felt like 10 years just went by before he pulled his lips off, hovering from your face at only two inches. It was then you realized you closed your eyes, because opening them to see Albert smiling softly sent you to heaven.

“Albert…” you barely whispered, staring at him in awe. The fact that he kissed you and broke so many social standings (again). Albert’s smile changed into this larger grin.

“You said it,” he gleamed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb, glancing at your lips thinking when to go back in for more. But he wanted to give you time to understand he was sincere.

“S-said what?”

“My name…” He rested his forehead against yours, staring lovingly into your (e/c) orbs. “I care too much about you to let something as trivial as social status stop me from telling you. And I am happy I was able to show you too.” You noticed Albert’s cheeks were dusty pink which made you smile a bit and giggle. “What?” He chuckled lowly.

“Nothing…” You muttered, glancing down at your feet. You would have never believed it if anyone else told you Albert cared for you. You still weren’t one hundred percent sure to believe it. But because of your strong love for him, you couldn’t fake the happiness you felt from his words. He was scaring away your insecurities and fears one action at a time. One word at time.

“Cute,” he hummed and kissed your forehead. “You can go change and prepare for bed, I’ll wait for you.” You felt one of his hands hold your own, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand.

“Okay...but this stays between us for now and you leave before the others wake,” you stated, your cheeks still a bit pink from the kiss and confession. If he was truly to stay with you the night, you were worried about the rumors that could spread, but so long as he left before other servants woke, you figured it’d be fine.

“Of course, my darling,” Albert nodded and watched you turn to head towards the ladies room. He had been in his robe and prepared to sleep well before he arrived at your room, so all he had to was wait. When you returned out of your bathroom, Albert had already made himself comfortable in your bed, the sheets covering half of him and pulled open ready for you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, you never thought you’d be sleeping with Albert, literally. You took a quiet, deep breath and walked over to the bed and set yourself into it, pulling the covers over you, blowing out the night candle right after. He began to lower into the bed and sheets and you followed in motion. Before you got too comfortable he spoke to you. “Good night, (y/n),” Albert’s voice hummed right next to you, causing a tingly feeling in your body.

“..Good night...Albert,” you replied softly, cheeks flushing and quickly turned on your side, your back facing him. You heard him chuckle and felt the bed shift as he got comfortable too. And when you woke up, you found his arms wrapped around your waist, your back to his chest and his soft breathing in your messy bed head hair. It was so comfortable...it was worth the risk of getting caught.

__________________________________ A/N: I had fun writing this, these gentlemen are adorable to write for! I’m just getting random inspiration off prompts right now, but if you have any ideas I may certainly write them too!

#moriarty the patriot #albert james moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #albert x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

sedan | jaemin

—part 2

synopsis. it was only a matter of time until he snapped. he was right, you should've seen it coming.

warnings. noncon, swearing, yandere themes, there’s a knife lmao

note. yalls idk :( it keeps deleting paragraphs when i add a readmore wtf is this sorcery IM SO SORRY

[read part 1]

apparently, your captor had enough respect for your dignity not to take you in the backseat of his old sedan. saying something along the lines of how you had completely ruined the mood by how much you were crying underneath him. “it’s not even pretty crying!” jaemin had exclaimed, hauling you up to your feet and carrying you bridal style towards the house.

respect? pft. he has long passed the line of respecting your dignity—the moment he forced that drug into your system and shoved you inside his car, he was a goner.

you don’t bother thrashing against his arms, having thought better. with your wrists and knees duct-taped together, running seemed like a joke. instead, you stare longingly at the outside world over jaemin’s shoulder—it definitely isn’t the last time you’ll see it, but if you were here because of his fucked up possessiveness over you, then escaping will be a challenge.

three months of working alongside jaemin is enough for you to know how thorough he can be. he’s quite the perfectionist, and you remember admiring his keen attention to detail but now you only fear for the things he has in store for you to make sure you’ll never leave his side. it was due to this train of thought that you involuntarily start shaking against him. the automated lock in the front door beeps into place and now you were stuck here with him, once and for all.

before you are able to take a look around the house, scoping enemy territory, a hand comes up to cover your eyes. the moment your fingers wrap around his wrist to pry it away, he hisses, and you let go immediately.

“stay still or else,” you obliged, scared of what he can do now that he has you all to himself inside the house. “i know what you’re thinking. still so fucking predictable. you’d have to earn my trust until i let you roam around here.”

the loud clicks of your restraints locking together prove that he is a man of his word.

the basement he keeps you in is disgusting. the tiles beneath you are cold, a few leaking pipes in the corner, dust everywhere, and a tiny window across the room—you doubt your chains can reach that far. but what captured your eyes the most is the numerous pillows stuck onto the walls and ceiling. the colors of its casings are faded, none of them matching one another at all. it was as if everything was messily put together at the last minute and you almost feel a tiny bit of relief that maybe, jaemin isn’t as thorough as you thought he’d be.

“i soundproofed the walls and everything, isn’t that romantic?”

you don’t answer, too caught up thinking about how you’ll stay warm that you don’t notice the way his eyes trail over your shaking figure, knees tucked under your chin, pressing yourself firmly against the wall to appear smaller. to create as much distance from him as possible.

jaemin frowns in distaste, a low hum resounding in the back of his throat as he thought; no, this won’t do.

“are you cold?” he asks.

once again, he’s met with silence.

if there is one thing jaemin absolutely hates with a passion, it was being ignored. the feeling is so foreign to him. maybe it was because of how much he naturally expects to bear the spotlight, that when you refused to even slightly acknowledge him as anything, he was confused. fascinated but frustrated at the same time.

it is the same frustration he felt when you turned him down. the same frustration he felt when you fought against him. the same frustration he felt when you don’t stop crying underneath him. the same frustration he felt right at this very fucking moment.

“i don’t think ignoring me will do you good, sweetheart. i asked you a question, didn’t i? i’ll say it again, one last time,” the edge in his voice is unmistakable. “are you cold or not?”

at this point, jaemin feels stupid for even thinking about granting you the slightest bit of leniency by leaving you alone tonight. jaemin had been willing to put aside his desires and wants for you. but his patience can only stretch so far until it comes snapping back.

and boy, were you in for it.

he utters your name, low and threatening and you just knew what it meant. as the victim, it should’ve been in your best interest to keep your captor from losing his shit and hurting you… and yet, you remain silent. you don’t know what’s gotten into you. the words are right at the tip of your tongue but you don’t say anything. it was as if time had stopped and your brain had short-circuited, making you forget how to speak.

when he stood up from the stool and started stalking towards you, you knew it was too late.

“jaemin…” your voice shakes. “jaem—yes, yes—i feel—i feel cold—”

the sting on your right cheek is the only thing to register in your mind for a few good seconds until it all clicks into place. he just backhanded you.

“i never thought you’d be such a fucking bitch,” he hisses, pulling at your restraints. “you were so silent, i thought you went mute, baby. how can you treat me like that? it’s no way to treat your lover.”

his soft tone catches you off guard for a fraction of a second. it was the same way he spoke to you before… all of this. it was the same tone that had once lulled you into a sense of security when you were stuck in a new environment, scared, making mistakes left and right, but jaemin had proved he can be someone you can depend on.

and look at what that cost you.

jaemin’s eye twitched when he noticed the slightly dazed look on your face, eagerly slotting himself between your thighs before holding your legs down with his shins. his hands dart out, grabbing your jaw in one hand before placing the other snug around your neck. the man can feel the rush of his blood flowing through his veins, ears ringing as he admires how pretty you were underneath him—pretty and helpless.

with a sudden urge, he darts his head forward to take a long whiff of your hair, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. he barely even registers the tears wetting the hand holding your face. jaemin is too far gone in his head because finally, fucking finally, he has you right where he wants you and absolutely no one can steal you away from him anymore.

meanwhile, you try hard to push him off of you but the pressure he’s applying to your legs proves too much. the hand encased around your throat pulls away and your happiness was short-lived as jaemin reaches for something above your head. it glints against the sole fluorescent light in the basement—

you freeze at the sight of his pocket knife.

he laughs, sounding too sweet and lighthearted. “now, now. i won’t hurt you…”

you hold your breath when he drags the knife across your body. from your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts, and finally settling at the bottom of your shirt. “i won't hurt you if you don’t move around too much.”

the sound of fabric ripping against the sharp blade made you want to thrash as hard as you can but jaemin had purposely angled the knife so the tip dragged against the surface of your skin. bile rises up your throat when you notice the way he eyes every inch of your torso as its slowly revealed to him.

“see, i know you’re a good girl. i just have to force it out of you sometimes, huh?” he mocks, quickly hooking the knife under your bra so he needn’t struggle reaching for the hook in the back.

his reaction is immediate the moment he sees you bare before him. he doesn’t even grant you the chance of hiding when he’s managed to hold your wrists in one hand, the knife clattering loudly on the floor as he surged forward, lips latching onto one of your breasts as his free hand feels the other one up. you turn your head to the side, not wanting to see his ministrations. until one particularly hard nip makes you yelp, his teeth latching painfully against a nipple before glaring at you through his eyelashes.

“eyes on me.”

jaemin can’t have you turning away from him. it simply looks like another act of defiance, as if you were depriving him of the expressions of pleasure found in your face as he continues to lick and suckle at the skin of your breasts, purple and red blooming on your skin.

when jaemin retracts from you to pull his shirt over his head, you made the last feeble attempt of trying to escape him. you’re able to free one of your legs from underneath him and have successfully delivered a kick to the groin. jaemin folds in pain. you managed to flip onto your stomach, dragging your body away with just your arms. you’ve only managed a few inches, chains rattling aggressively, when you felt his nails dig into the back of your thighs.

“fuck,” he grunts. “you’re going to fucking pay for that, pretty thing.”

he turns you around with one hand, unfazed by the pitiful look of your tears and snot cascading down your face as he looms over you, his knife in one hand as he fists your hair.

you shook violently as you brace your hands against his bare chest. jaemin would’ve revelled at the feeling of you touching him if you hadn’t kicked him in the balls only seconds ago.

“jaemin, please… i don’t want any of this—”

“you’re so cute, begging like anything could get you out of this.”

you flinch, eyes shutting closing on instinct. you feel something sharp poking on your neck, and it only takes you a fraction of a minute to register that jaemin is now holding his knife against your throat. digging the blade enough for you to know it’s there but not hard enough to draw blood.

“look how much you’re shaking, baby,” he coos, the tightness in his pants becoming unbearable as he gives you a one over. “such a sheltered kid, aren’t you? no wonder you’re so fucking naive, always making mistakes. always making the wrong judgement. you’re used to depending on someone, right? well…”

jaemin slices the skin above your collarbone. you don’t scream, the fear of him slicing your throat all together lies heavy in the air.

“…it’s a good thing you met me, huh?”

fuck you.

“i’m here, baby. you can depend on me all you want,” the giddiness and the sudden spark in his eyes make you dread what he’ll do next—you hear the sounds of a belt unbuckling. “i’ll bathe you, i’ll feed you, dress you up, but…”

there are no tears left when you feel his fingers pulling your shorts down together with your underwear. no tears left when you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“…you’ll have to give me something in return. that’s what good girls do, right?”

you screamed.

#yandere nct #yandere jaemin #yandere kpop #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw knife

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dreamsmpimagnes · 3 years

Note

Okay, but have you considered: Reader who's part of the Syndicate and has a huge crush on Techno decides to try to break him out the same exact time as Michael McChill, the canon Dream sympathizer/simp tries to break out Dream, and they two of them get put in a cell together and bond over their crushes

✋💀 i was working on a Sapnap NSFW Hcs request, but i believe this needed my attention the most, thank you for it btw

Meeting c!Michael McChill During A Prison Break

After many hours, using a netherite pickaxe and several buckets of milk, you had nearly breached the prison to the right of where Technoblade was being held.

By no means, were you breaking him out solely due to your romantic interest in him, but it certainly did help fuel your motive. No, it was because he was the driving force of the Syndicate. The amazing organization that you wholly believed was protecting people. That's why you were doing it.

Breaking the last two blocks, you slipped into the room, gracefully landing on the, somehow, cold obsidian floor.

From across the small room, Dream and Technoblade up looked at you. For the most part, the pink haired man looked content, Dream however, looked far more frazzled than you had ever seen him before.

Techno greeted you by saying your name, following it with a small nod, staying at his place on the ground, leaning and resting his head against the wall.

You always thought that your name from his mouth sounded very lovely, but now was not the time to mull over your crush.

“Thank the gods,” Dream yelled, bolting up onto his feet. "Finally I can leave this damn place!"

You stood in front of the whole you made, holding your dagger in front of you defensively.

"No, not you. I'm here for Technoblade."

Dream scoffed at you turning back to gesture at the aforementioned man.

"What, why?" His words were sharp and covered in venom. "Techno doesn't need saving. They don't torture him, they torture me. In fact, I'm willing to bet that's why he's here, to make my life inside of this stupid box hell."

Technoblade chuckled from his place on the floor. "I would argue you were already in hell, with the lava and whatnot." He gestured to the thick curtain of boiling lava in front of the cell.

The dark blond haired man made a frustrated noise and paced in the center of the room. He ran his hands through his messy, overgrown hair before stopping in front of you once more.

"Look, just- you get me out of here and I'll get you whatever you need. Just say the word and I'll-"

He was cut off by a loud yell and the flash of a figure falling from the ceiling, letting more sunlight into the cell. The sudden noise and light made you and Dream jump, Technoblade staying relatively the same.

On the ground, you noticed a man covered in dark clothing, with black hair that was pulled back in a tiny, messy ponytail, he had a mask on that was concealing the bottom half of his face.

The three of you watched as he was laying on the floor, hands tightly pressed to the back of his head. He rolled onto his side while groaning in pain.

Dream walked a few steps closer to him and stopped, leaning over his form. “Micheal?”

The man, Micheal, presumably, stopped and rolled onto his back again. He looked up at Dream and gave him a bright smile.

“Dream! Dude, I’m here to rescue you.”

He sighed in relief and slumped against a wall and looked back and fourth from Michael to you. “Was this planned?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t actually know what’s going on anymore.” Michael responded, standing up. He looked like he was about to say something again before Dream cut him off.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, I’m about to be free.”

“Is that so?”

You and Dream jumped again, this time Michael was here to join you. The three of you and Technoblade turned your attention to the curtain of lava that was only about halfway lowered. Sam was standing on the platform opposite to you, trident in hand.

Dream laughed at him, his tone condescending “Yeah, because you’re all the way over there. You can’t even touch me.”

“I can’t?” Sam threw his trident, it stabbing into the thick obsidian wall next to Dream’s head. With some initial resistance, he was able recall it, it leaving three small, shallow holes in the wall.

“Okay, and?” He sped across the room, stopping at the hole you created.

“If you step out, things will get a whole lot worse for you, Dream.”

He laughed at him. “Yeah, okay.”

With a sigh of relief, Dream stepped his foot on the entrance, pulling himself up. He sheltered his eyes from the sun with his arm as he took a step outside. And then you heard him curse, quite loudly, in fact.

Almost immediately he was backed back into the cell, four guards filtered into the cell. “No. No, no, no, no, I was so close! What the hell, Sam?” He turned, looking back at him, who was on the moving platform, about half way through the lava cavern.

That had to be a form of psychological of torture, right?

"Do something, Michael, you want to be my hero, right?"

"Of course." He replied, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Before he could do much more, Sam made it to the room. He shook his head as he pinned Micheal against a wall, slamming his hand against it the hardest. A loud crack sounded and his hand went limp, the blade falling onto the ground. Before anyone could grab it, another guard picked it up. Michael struggled as Sam turned him around pushing his chest to the wall and forcing his hands behind his back.

Dreamed looked at you, his hands ringing his hair, “Why aren’t you doing something?”

You shuffled your weight onto your other foot. “Uh-”

“Yeah, I’ll be honest, Asclepius here is mainly the healer, strategist, apposed to a fighter, executor, if you know what I mean.” Technoblade stated, using your Syndicate cover name. He patted your shoulder before settling his hand on you.

“It’s funny you say executor, actually.” One of the guards chimed in, rolling the handle of his own sword in his hands.

Technoblade sounded as clam as ever, “Well I think we’re going a bit overboard now, aren’t we?”

“No.” Sam started, now standing in the cell. “Michael and your teammate tried to break you and Dream out of prison. A crime with what is punishable by execution.”

You put your hands up slightly. “Well I was only here for Techno, who, technically, shouldn’t be in here in the first place.”

He nodded beside you, “That is a good defense, actually. I’m inclined to agree with them."

Sam ignore the two of you. “Michael, I need to talk to you privately. I’m really not sure that you understand the gravity of this situation or the why Dream was locked in prison in the first place.”

“No, Sam, he knows exactly what he’s doing, you should just kill him already!” Dream yelled, through clenched teeth. He looked absolutely pissed, like he wanted to throttle his would be savior.

You and Technoblade glanced at each other, sharing a raised eyebrow look. At least the dude you had a crush on didn’t want you to crash and burn with him.

"Not right now, we need to question him first."

In response, Dream made another frustrated noise and threw his back to the wall, slumping to the floor.

Sam gestured for another guard to grab you and they did, positioning your arms in the same way.

You were both carried out and placed on the moving platform. When you looked back, you noticed that Dream looked utterly defeated and Technoblade was biting at his bottom lip, something he'd do in very rare situations where he was stressed.

...

You and Michael were put in a small jail cell before being stripped of all of your equipment, the room being tense between the two of you.

"I would've gotten Dream out if you didn't scramble in first and ruin things."

You laughed at his words as you crossed your arms. "Yeah, okay, and that's why you fell on your ass, right."

“My landing was a bit rocky, so what?”

You groaned in frustration. "Why do you even want to get Dream out?"

"I just think he's great."

"He literally told Sam to kill you."

"Yeah, it's how he shows he cares-"

You cut him off, “Oh, yeah, how he cares? He must have really cared about Tommy then, and about the citizens of L'Manburg. He really must be all for that 'tough love' sentiment, right?"

The room was quiet again.

“Well why’d you want to save the other guy?”

“Technoblade?”

He nodded.

You shrugged, “He’s a friend and... coworker, I guess.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? Are you serious?”

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. You might be killed in the next few hours, so you might as well tell someone, right?

"Yeah, uh, about that. I like him, I guess."

Michael laughed. "Seriously? You tried to help a convict escape because you have a crush on him?"

"Oh my gods, that's literally the reason you're trying to break out Dream, shut up."

"Yeah, that's why I'm laughing."

You accidentally cracked a small smile at him.

Calling it a friendship would definitely be a stretch, but you were both on calm water with one another now.

Hopefully now you two could pull what little resources you both had together, rescue your respective love interests, and figure a way out.

#dream smp #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #c!technoblade x reader #c!michael mcchill #c!michael is a simp for dream and that's actually canon

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