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infamous-if · 1 year

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As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao

“Have any of you seen Seven?”

That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good.

That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.

It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd.

Or not.

The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs.

You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.

You’re growing frustrated.

With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you.

“Hey, MC!”

You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.

Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.

“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”

The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.

Until your phone buzzes.

You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.

Seven: Roof

You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.

You: Thought you died.

Another buzz.

Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.

You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text.

You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.

Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy

Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?

What do you call that?

You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming.

Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.

Another buzz.

Seven: Bring some bears please

You: Bears?

Seven: Beers. Whatever.

Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.

Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone.

You: Where am I going?

Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.

Seven: lol

You: I will kill you.

Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me

You: Seven Lawless

Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof.

You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers.

You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’

Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion

Seven: (trust me)

Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone.

“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.

Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin.

Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack.

“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."

Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”

Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.”

You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off.

"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."

Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”

You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”

Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”

“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”

Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little.

“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.

They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

You nudge them. “Say it.”

They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”

Oh.

You expected many things, but not that.

Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!

Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”

You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.

“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.”

Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“

“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”

Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say.

They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of.

You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you.

And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to.

“I’m not lonely with you, though.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”

Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment.

You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”

“What!”

“Too much attention.”

“You’re a performer?!”

They raise a finger. “That’s different.”

“Oh, please—“

Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.

You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.

“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.

Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.

So…different.

“I don’t think I should.”

That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous.

They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”

“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.

They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”

You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.

Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”

“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”

You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“

Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.”

“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin.

“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”

You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”

Silence.

Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”

“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words.

It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.”

You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids.

But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway.

“Then don’t use words.”

Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them.

Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it.

Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.

Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.

What is happening...?

Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck.

Messy seems about right.

Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.

Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.

You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.

They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss.

Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.

"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.

"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.

Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."

You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.

The horrible, awkward silence.

See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.

“Uh…”

“Er…”

They slowly drop their hand from your neck.

And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass.

“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”

“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”

It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”

“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.

“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”

Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.

Until both of you do.

“That—“

“We—“

Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness.

Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny.

“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”

Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”

Your eyes widen. “I—“

“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you.

You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”

“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.

You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”

“Seven.”

Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.”

You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?

“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'

You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.

It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.

By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”

Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder.

Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.

The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear.

“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.

“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”

“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.

You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.

“You okay?”

Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”

“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”

“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”

You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.

You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.

“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab.

“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”

“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.

Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.

Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.

And that thought comforts you.

#drabble #seven lawless #writing #AHHHHH #ripping my hair out #it was fun writing a Not Angry Seven #It was also weird though #writing a seven that's friends with mc #snores

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ruenii · 1 year

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i had this idea where Tim has cuteness aggression and is just so bad at conveying it (well not like batman level but you get the point) that sometimes people mistake his cuteness aggression face as a 'im gonna punt you six feet under' face and tim is confused when his brothers or his friends get scared when he just wants to squish em cause they're sososo cute.

his family (except for dick and cass) doesn't know about this so they just think that 'oh god-- oh myfucking gofd-- tim is glaring at me again what the fuck-- what did i do???' and is just scared of what they did to cause tim, THE CALM ONE, to glare at them.

but tim is just:

tim, [on the inside]: awWWWW lOOK AT MY BABY BROTHERS!!! THEY'RE SO CUTE!! I WANNA PAT THEM ON THE HEAD!!! I WANNA SPOIL THEM I WANNA BITE THEIR CHEEKS LOOK AT THEM AWWWEEE I WANNA SQUISH THEM SO HARDD!! NO-- NO THEY WON'T LIKE THAT I HAVE TO STAY CALM!! ENDURE THE URGE TO PINCH THEM!! 🥺🥺

tim, [on the outside]: *glares at them like they just burned his entire supply of coffee and caffeinated drinks and disgust*

duke: did... did i do something--

tim: *clenches his fist*

damian: don't be such a coward, drake, using physical cues to convey your emotions are unbecomi--

tim: *walks out of the room*

duke & damian: ...

duke: oh fuck... did we make his mood even worse?

damian: surely drake hasn't been... affected by that *his body clearly shaking*

dick: don't worry timmy isn't angry at you guys :)

jason: i can hear him screaming what do you mean he isn't angry

dick: he's just... letting out some pent-up frustration..

#tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #duke thomas #damian wayne #batbros #batkids #dc #batfam #suki drabbles #tim really wants to smush duke's cheeks and pinch them until its numb #i mean cmon #duke is a chaotic guy #of course tim would want to coddle him #and tim wants to stuff damians mouth full of marshmallows #he thinks damian would look liek a cute lil angry rabbit #dick knows tims behaviors #becos he too has cuteness aggression #tim has been a victim to many of his pinches and biting #jason is kinda scared but he shouldnt be #tim also wants to pat his hair and stuff him w food #tim w cuteness aggression ftw!!#tim: mrmfmrmrfgfh i wanna hug my baby brothers!!! so!!! bad!! look at them being so cute!!!! theyre so pinchable and bitable!!! T_T!!!#also tim: *screams and breaks the third punching bag this week while his family is staring worriedly*#basically tims POV is: squishy squshy cutesosooscutei wannaa squishmsmd #the batfams POV: angsty sad feels 'what did i do?' 'oh god he hates me doesnt he?' what do i do to make him not hate me :(((??'

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robiinurheart33 · 1 month

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Ghost always thought of Johnny as something that could never be diminished, never replaced, never dimmed. An unstoppable force of nature. The very definition of the sun to him.

Johnny blazed beautifully. He brought life and colour to everything around him, even to ghost. He thought of mortals that worshipped sun gods, that thanked them for bringing life around them, how they brought upon the very beginning of humanity. Ghost feels his hard ridges melt away in Johnny’s warmth, how he brought his humanity back to him. He doesn’t even know how he did it. It was like second nature to soap, breathing the life back to Simon. It was like nothing to soap. It was the whole world to Simon.

It was acidic, the way he felt about soap. It burned through his skin, sticky-sweet, and made a home in his body. It clung and absorbed itself into his bones, merged and became part of his DNA. It stabbed into the very core of his being, infecting him. He hated it, hated the way it made his heart clench and his throat close up whenever he saw Johnny.

He hated it.

(CLICKS FOR PALESTINE)

#dribble drabble #I hate feeling angry #might project it onto comfort characters again #lolz!!!#also y’all are completely crazy my writing has been blowing up #y’all!!!!!!#making me blush and giggle and shi damn #😚😚#robs ramblings #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghoap #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap

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screeblees · 8 months

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Hello!! Can I ask what the Angry Yandere would be like with a darling who is /completely/ in on the idea of being his darling? They love his devotion to them, how far he'll go for them, and become totally love-struck and slightly obsessive with him as well, even wants to makeover his house into "our home", etc. I think it's funny when Yanderes get thrown for a loop haha.

Hii!! Yesss I absolutely love Willing ! Reader!! I really hope I did this justice <3

Angry ! Yandere Headcanons here !

I'm getting around to all my asks as soon as I can! Also this is my 10th post :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

Well, I imagine you would be rather passive until the point of being kidnapped, maybe finding Angry! Yandere’s recordings flattering but not thinking much of it.

That is, until you wake up with an absence of senses; blindfolded and bound, which would make it safe to say that that changes things.

Just as an Unwilling ! Darling, you would be terrified at first, frightened and shaky, but unlike Unwilling ! Darling, once you realise A) just who has kidnapped you and B) the intense devotion and obsession Angry ! Yandere has for you; the fearfulness dissolves and instead awe, appreciation and utter romanticism comes (which quickly grows into fierce love and what could be considered mutual obsession).

Your calmness (and even more so your smiling, delighted expression) confuses him. Angry ! Yandere knew to expect you to feel a little distressed in your new environment, so the complete acceptance and relaxation you presented was perplexing to him, although he completely welcomed and rewarded this behavior.

Due to the obedience shown he is extremely suspicious of you, on especially furious nights he may yell his frustrations of how he knows you’re planning something but he won’t punish you, you have done nothing wrong, the most he’ll do is throw something at a wall on the opposite side of the room from you. And despite the fact that Angry ! Yandere is lenient with you, his security is almost as heavy as if you had escaped.

But through late night conversations where you cuddle in bed or on the couch, he’ll come to realise your reciprocation and feel far more comfortable - but don’t expect him to become any less demanding of your comfort, affection or attention. Your escape will be one less worry for him and your love is one more comfort for him to carry with him throughout the day.

If there��s something you want, he’ll get it, someone you want dead, he’ll kill them, someone you want tortured, they’ll be tormented for the rest of their life. Albeit, when you ask to come out of the basement it takes weeks to convince Angry ! Yandere, even now that he sees your affection, he still holds concerns deep in his mind (and also the idea of anyone else experiencing your comforting atmosphere makes his fury bubble to the forefront) and even then, he wants the majority of your time to be in the basement, that is your and his home.

You want to redecorate and make it like a real home? Sure, of course, anything you want includes changing the basement (and upstairs if you’d like) to be however you want. He feels like you really, truly love him and that - although it confuses him immensely - alleviates most anger from him, the only thing to change that being when he has to go out.

When Angry ! Yandere comes home from work and you meet him at the basement door like an excited puppy, he feels relief and comfort flood through him as he welcomes you into his arms, already taking off any uncomfortable outerwear or accessories such as a tie and dumping them in a nearby chair for later. He revels in your voice, completely focused on him, his day and what he’d been doing (and vis-versa, of course), your words filling his head and your body in his embrace, snuggling in closer.

Angry ! Yandere doesn’t need you to do anything at all for him except what you already readily do; hug him, kiss him, cuddle with him, talk to him, greet him when he comes home, love him, accept him, be with him forever and ever, etc. And when you do do a little more such as cooking for him, he’ll smother you in kisses cause he cannot contain himself and the little things you do to show your love make him feel like he’ll explode - but not in anger, not at all, but pure unbridled love. He’s never been happier in his life and he’ll make sure you feel the very same way…

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cld9writes · 8 months

Text

angry sex - han jisung x reader kinktober #3

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

day three- "hate" sex

reader! afab!reader, fem!reader

word count! 1.6k words

tags! angry sex, unprotected sex (NO), teasing, riding

------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jisung!”

“Oh, right, I’m the asshole! You walk around like a fucking slut all day long and I’m supposed to-“

“A slut?!”

This argument has been going on for a good ten minutes. Since you’re in your own dorm, you decided to wear a tight tank top and short shorts to cool down after dance practice.

You felt like your roommate had been a little too focused on you the whole day. He’s a gorgeous man, and you do have a bit of a crush on him, so it’s not like you exactly mind. But he’s just so brash about it.

He started making his stares more obvious, but he made a snide little comment and it touched a nerve.

“Those don’t cover much” feels very different coming from a man sitting on the couch. no matter how much you like him.

This escalated from little quips to now a full tirade. But as the annoyance settles deep down in your stomach, something else joins it. More than a little lust.

It doesn’t make much sense. He’s being so rude and you’re genuinely mad at him. But there’s something about how he looks- the set of his jaw, the vein in his neck, the way he annoyedly pushes his hair back. It reminds you of your attraction to him, of the nights you’ve touched yourself wishing it was his fingers in you instead of your own.

You take a deep inhale through your nose, holding your breath and wishing the fluttering in your pussy to stop.

He leans in close to your face, eyes still hard and cold.

“It’s not my fault you-“

“It’s not my fault you hate that you wanna fuck me!” You snap, desperate for him to stop talking.

His round cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and his indignant tone turns defensive.

“What?! What are you- what are you talking about?!” He snaps. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Oh come off it! You can barely control yourself around me. I’m not a slut, you’re just a desperate bitch! The only reason you haven’t tried anything is because you’re too much of a pussy-“

He shuts you up with a kiss. It was a stupid, impulsive move, but it’s a welcome one. The pent up frustration fuels the kiss- the way he grips your hair, the way you bunch his shirt up in your fingers.

You pull away briefly, both of you stunned by his decision. And both of you instantly recognize how much you want to do more than kiss. You practically fall into his lap, grinding against his groin as he positions you both on the couch.

He tastes like cherry chapstick, and you can’t get enough of his pillowy, perfect lips. He arches his hips up to grind against your pussy. You can feel his growing bulge, feel how he’s desperate for the warmth of your dampening cunt.

The beaks for air cease, both of you hungry to taste more of each others’ lips and tongue. His hand taps against the waistband of your shorts, non-verbally asking for permission to touch you. You try to guide his hand into your pants, but he just slips it down to your pussy above your shorts.

He starts slowly rubbing you through your shorts and panties. He’s more letting you grind yourself down onto his fingers. He finally slips his fingers into your shorts, playing with your clit through your panties. He runs his fingers up and down the length of your slit, coating his digits in your essence.

You moan into the kiss and he pulls back.

“That feel good?” He asks. “You enjoying that?” You nod without thinking and he chuckles. “I told you you’re a slut.” He says it in such a gentle way that it angers you yet again.

“Shut the fuck up.” You snap. “Just touch me properly, Jisung.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He says sarcastically.

He sticks his fingers inside of you, thumbing your clit as he fingers you. He’s muttering insults and praises as he does so, calling you things like “a slut, but such a well-behaved slut” or a “desperate baby.” You snap back, calling him “a wannabe fucktoy” and a “dog in heat.” The bickering makes it better, and this is evident by the juices running down the man’s wrist.

His cock is still straining to get out of his sweatpants, and his fingers aren’t doing it anymore.

“Jisung.” You sigh.

“Hm?”

“Put it in me.”

“You sure? I don’t have a-“

“Put it in me or I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you.” You snap at him.

“Fine, fine. Christ, you’re so fucking demanding. Up.”

You roll off him and pull your shorts off as he pulls his sweats down below his pelvis. He wasn’t wearing boxers, which explains all the sighing and groaning as you two barely humped. He grabs your wrist before you can take your panties off, pulling you back onto his lap.

He just moves the soaked fabric to the side, the cold air sending a shiver down your spine. He grabs his erect cock and teases your hole with it.

“Motherfucker-“ you hold the base of his dick and sit down, moaning as his girth stretches you out. The head touches deep, hitting a place in your stomach no one has reached before. Your legs shake from pleasure, and it only intensifies when he starts thrusting.

It feels amazing. Your cunt is clenching tighter around him, instinctively trying to pull him in. You lean forward and attach yourself to his neck to keep from moaning.

He can tell, and he wants to make fun of you for it. But as you suck hickeys and hit marks across his neck and collar bone, it’s as if he forgets how to speak. The warm tightness of your pussy certainly isn’t helping.

Jisung has waited a while for this. It’s obvious in the way he’s breathing, grunting, clutching at you. He’s waiting for so long. Waited to taste your lips, to feel you from the inside. Every flirty little glance, every skirt that just happened to be a bit too short. Everything drove him closer to you, made him want to touch you more. And now he finally got his motherfucking chance. Sure, you’ll hate him after. But he finally got to stuff you full of cock and feel you collapse around him. And that’s worth it.

You finally pull yourself together and sit up again, rolling your hips to feel the veins of his shaft anywhere you can. Jisung pulls your shirt up over your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as you ride him.

“You’re such a fucking baby. You know that?” You tease. His teeth pinch in a bit and he smirks at the way you hiss. You stop teasing and let yourself get lost in the feeling. His moans send vibrations through you, adding yet another type of stimulation. Fuck, he’s good at that. The way he plays with your tits as his cock pounds into makes you throw your head back in pleasure.

There’s not an ounce of regret in your body for this decision. The way his tongue feels, the way your walls squeeze around his cock, the sting of his hand coming down against your ass. Everything is so good, and ass the pleasure fills your head up like syrup, you almost forget you were annoyed at him. Almost.

“Calling me a slut…” You groan. “When you were dying to stick it in me. You’re glued to my tots like a fuck-fucking baby after taking all that shit?” He spits you out and bites the crook of your neck. You whine, your insults catching in your throat.

It pisses you off how he knows just what to do. That he somehow knew how sensitive your breasts are. That he knew about that sensitive spot in your neck. His body is flush with yours, not just physically, but psychologically. His teeth unlatch from your neck and he rests his chin on your shoulder, holding your hips down so you can’t move.

“You’re such a big talker, Y/N. I could practically taste you soaking through your panties during our little spat. Don’t say I was dying to ‘stick it in you’ when it took one kiss for me to get it done.”

He snaps his hips up, a moan tearing out of your throat and cutting off your response. He’s fucking up into your rapidly, chasing deeper spots inside of you. It’s like he wants to reach your cervix, or at least trying to cum sooner. And he is. He wants to cum so badly. He wants your pussy to draw it out of him, to bust inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t, and more importantly that he didn’t ask, but he wants to. He wants to so so so so bad-

“Fuck me, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum Y/N I’m gonna cum-!”

You pull yourself off him at the last second, falling forward into his chest as he instinctively wraps his arms around your back. His thighs shake under yours as his orgasm wracks his body.

You stay there together on the couch, trying to catch your breath. You don’t think about the cum that shot across the floor, the way someone could walk in at any moment. You just sit there huffing. Jisung laughs, taunting you between pants.

“I… I told you… you’re a slut-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------

I’m sorry I’m behind my schedule is actually evil omg. I’ll be fully up to date by Sunday. Sorry for wait guys <3

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #angry sex #hate sex #han jisung #han stray kids #stray kids #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #kpop #kpop smut #smut drabble #riding #x reader #han jisung x reader

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cryptidwritings · 3 months

Text

"Aren't you tired?"

Caretaker looked up from their book, smiling. It was a habit. Whumpee wasn't even looking at them this time.

"No. I'm okay."

It was a lie. Every time Caretaker closed their eyes, they heard the sound of shattered glass and Whumpee's pained and panicked screams rolling underneath the barricaded door before disappearing into the night.

They weren't going to let that happen ever again.

#whump #whump snippet #whump prompt #whump drabble #recapture #angry caretaker #whump writing #whump scenario #implied past captivity #caretaker #insomnia #traumatized characters #caretaker whump

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wangxianficrecs · 3 months

Text

anger by theninjacat

anger

by theninjacat

G, <1k, Wangxian

Summary: wwx gets angry because he deserves it Kay's comments: Short and straight to the point. Wei Wuxian deserves to get a little angry, as a treat. Felt very cathartic to me, the reader, because Wei Wuxian as a character is all about letting things go and looking forwards, but me personally, I wish he had gotten a little angrier sometimes. Excerpt: Baba laughs. A quick thing with none of his usual humour. His voice is soft when it speaks, but it hits with all the subtle force of a knife slid between the ribs. “I am not upset,” Baba repeats, mocking. “Wen Qing was my closest friend. She stood by me and with me when even my own family turned away. The remaining Wen survivors became my family. In the Burial Mounds we had made a home.” Baba speaks, and over the last two years of nighthunts and evenings at the Jingshi and lazy days spent under the sun, Sizhui has experienced a lot of his Baba’s emotions. He has not experienced this.

pov lan sizhui, post-canon, married lan wangji/wei wuxian, established relationship, cultivation sect politics, anger, drabble, angry wei wuxian, wen remnants deserve better, burial mounda ensemble as a family

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #Wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #March 2024 #anger #theninjacat #Gen #short fic <15k #pov lan sizhui #post-canon #married lan wangji/wei wuxian #established relationship #cultivation sect politics #drabble #angry wei wuxian #wen remnants deserve better #burial mounda ensemble as a family

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the-baby-storyteller · 1 year

Text

Whumpee was too scared to breathe in the tense atmosphere between them and Caretaker.

Their impulses got the better of them and they risked a glance up at Caretaker's face. Stormy, clouded eyes and angry hands pounding at a mixture greeted them back.

Their eyes quickly skittered back down.

"Whumpee," Caretaker's voice rumbled lowly.

Whumpee jerked.

"Y-yes!"

They quickly jolted their head up despite their desperate urge to hide from Caretaker.

Caretaker still wasn't facing them, choosing to focus their attention on rhythmically pounding the medicine as severely and menacingly as they could. Still, their ire was unconcealed.

"You will stay here." No room for alternative was present in that tone.

Whumpee swallowed. "Yes," they let out quietly.

"You will remain lying down until I tell you."

Pound.

"You will not be going out or endangering yourself in foolish, preventable situations."

Pound.

Whumpee held back a flinch.

"And you will not"

Pound.

"get hurt again."

Caretaker turned to them then, sending a icy glare their way.

Whumpee started, paling a little.

“Y-Yes, sir." They stuttered out.

Caretaker stared a moment longer, causing drops of sweat to accumulate on Whumpee's forehead, and then finally turned back to grinding their poultice.

Despite the beads of sweat, a shiver ran through Whumpee as one thought stood out to them among the torrent of thoughts rushing through their head.

Do not make Caretaker angry.

#whump #writing #snippet #writing snippet #i tried to make this short lol but what happens happens #it was meant to be a short prompt #anyway #angry caretaker #scary caretaker #scared whumpee #drabble #creative writing #stern caretaker #whump writing #its not really #bad caretaker #but they're definitely not gentle #the baby storyteller

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whumpasaurus101 · 1 year

Text

“Say that again.”

Whumpee went to open their mouth but before any words came, Whumper grabbed them by a fistful their hair, shoving them against the wall and brought a knife against their throat,

“I fucking dare you.”

#okay so Whumper’s a lil angry #KSJSJSNDJDJDJD #whump #whump drabble #whumpee #whumper #lee wrote something :o #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #knife to throat #knife tw #cursing tw #I am #half asleep rn #so #I apologize if this acc doesnt make sense Akdjjdddjjd #ANYWAY ENJOY IG AKDJDJJFJFJF

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good-beanswrites · 5 months

Note

Remembering how Futa said in one timeline that there’s no way a woman could beat a man in a fight and got his ass beat. Can you do a crackfic of the girls beating him up for that?

Ahahaha thank you for the request!! This was really fun to write omg -- and well deserved, there was no need for all that in the timeline convo 😤 He was too busy thinking of leverages and forms he failed to consider the fury of a woman scorned..... may he rest in peace......

Fuuta didn’t even know what he did to earn himself an ass-beating.

“Oh, you know what you did,” Yuno said. She closed the cell door behind her.

Whatever it was, it had managed to anger every woman on the premises. He thought it took a lot to get girls riled up this much – something like cheating on them or calling them names, you know? But without a single action on his part, he found himself facing Yuno, Muu, and Amane. All three had a fire in their eyes that Fuuta was not liking the look of.

Mahiru had pointed him to his cell, saying Es was looking for him there. She spoke strangely as she did it, and waited awkwardly outside as he went in, but everyone around here was a little odd. How was he supposed to distinguish when people were being murderer-in-a-supernatural-prison weird from setting-a-trap-to-corner-him-in-his-cell weird?

He waved his palms in front of him. “Listen, listen! Let’s just talk, okay? Let’s slow down.”

Muu cracked her knuckles.

Amane began rolling up her sleeves in perfect creases. “You have doubted our abilities. We will make you a believer.”

Fuuta took a few steps back. His voice came out loud and frantic. “What are you talking about? If you’re looking to pick a fight, you better think twice, because I’m not gonna hit a girl or anything.”

“Oh, good!” Yuno’s voice was as bubbly as always as the three closed in. “That will make our job a lot easier.”

He felt his back hit the wall. “I mean it, let’s just talk about this for a sec! Hey!”

Mikoto’s voice came from outside the cell.

“Mappi? What’s going on in there?”

“Yes!” Fuuta called, “Mikoto! Help! They’re gonna kill me in here!”

“Oh, no need to worry~ The girls are just teaching him a little lesson about not saying awful things.”

“Isn’t this going a bit too far…? What did he even say?”

“Nothing! Come on, get me the fuck outta here!”

“I believe his exact words were, ‘there’s no way a girl could win in a fight against a man.’”

Fuuta paled. He did say that, didn't he...

“Oh crap. Yeah, that’d do it. Carry on.”

“Wha–? Mikoto!”

He gaped at the three in front of him.

He remembered a hero in a video game who had faced off against an unbeatable foe; a glorious knight who came to understand that he could never conquer the world-razing dragon before him. After giving his all, and seeing his fate was sealed, the hero had no choice. In a manly show of valor, he’d lifted his chin, closed his eyes, and accepted his impending, gory death.

Yuno's gaze was cold as she raised her arms. Muu had a hungry look in her eyes. Amane clenched her fists, her posture perfect.

It wasn’t a dragon, but Fuuta would argue this was a good deal more dangerous. He lifted his chin and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Get ‘em, girls!”

—

Kotoko approached just as the other girls filed out of Fuuta’s cell. They had giddy looks on their faces. They giggled and whispered in a huddle as they walked around the panopticon.

“Wow, Muu!”

“Haha, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“That felt amazing…”

Kotoko didn’t know what kind of game they were all playing in there, but Fuuta was in for a big surprise now. The fun was over. Today was the day she acted out her responsibilities as Es’ fang. Today was the day she delivered justice.

She swung the cell door open. Her eyebrows shot up.

Her head whipped around to take a look at the girls, still complementing one another and laughing lightly.

Hell, her work here was already done.

#milgram #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #muu kusunoki #mahiru shiina #amane momose #mikoto kayano #kotoko yuzuriha #and then he dieded 😔 -- sad!#fuuta stumbles out of shidous cell a few hours later wearing the 'im sorry women' hat #as much as i tried i couldnt picture mappi throwing any punches but shed love to help!!#the girls go to john afterwards to say 'hey youre right beating the shit out of someone really does feel like it solved all my problems'#i originally had kotoko as part of the main group but she actually agrees with him in the timeline convo #so i dont think shed be as angry in the moment - though she supports the others 100%#LMAO thank you this was so funny 😂😂😂#i was so so silly finishing up work and stuff and constantly plotting ways to beat up my fave #drabbles

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jongseongsnudes · 1 year

Text

seven.

warning; SMUT-ISH 🏃‍♀️ 1.1k words.

masterlist.

perhaps you were overthinking it but you swore you noticed heeseung around more often lately.

he had showed up at your door step unannounced on countless nights, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober and sometimes at 2 am. again and again, you’d let him in, let him do you on any surface of your apartment that he wanted. then he’d stay the night, cuddling you, kissing you, things he rarely did. it felt as though you were a couple but only behind closed doors, away from people’s eyes. out in the open, heeseung still acted as though you two barely knew each other.

and this confused you greatly.

as much as you didn’t mind spending time with him, you began to question this no strings attached relationship. heeseung would often enough express his distaste towards your friendship with yeonjun yet turn around and chat up several different girls every day.

you liked him, no doubt about that but his behaviour was perhaps becoming a little too much for you to handle.

“just come for a little bit?” your best friend’s voice knocks you out of your daze, only to realise that you both had just arrived at your apartment door, “the party will be so much fun! come pleasssssse. for me?”

“okay okay. the things i do for you.”

“thanks bestie,” your friend hugs you from behind as you fidget about to unlock your door, “hopefully we can find something decent from your wardrobe, if not, then you’re wearing something of mine.”

“i think i’m going to stick to my clothes, yours are a little... out there for me,” you sigh in relief as you finally get the door opened but something immediately catches your attention. a pair of familiar men’s shoes, heeseung’s. in a swift move, you drop your bag over them in hopes of hiding it away from your best friend’s eyes.

“your apartment smells... different,” she’s sniffing about, eyebrows raised, “smells like... men. oh my god has yeonjun been here? is that why you always look so tired? are you guys fucking?!”

“what- no! it smells normal!” you glance back and forth, worried that heeseung might just appear out of no where, “i um- i just remembered i needed to do something. how about i meet you later at the party yeah?”

“okay but... maybe wear something sexy! yeonjun will be there so you better not ditch last minute!”

miraculously, you’re able to convince your suspicious friend to leave your apartment within the next twenty seconds without her further blabbering about yeonjun. you felt bad for hiding it from her but you couldn’t risk exposing your relationship with heeseung, not right now.

“heeseung?” you softly call out, scanning around the apartment to weirdly see no trace of the man. but you know he’s here somewhere, based on the shoes and the mess in the kitchen you knew wasn’t there when you left.

the sight of chopped vegetables and pasta sauce has you smiling, knowing that the man was preparing to cook your favourite dish while you were out.

“hey doll,” heeseung’s soft voice and sudden grasp on your waist from behind startles you, making you jump, “i wanted to surprise you but you surprised me instead.”

“when did you get here hee?” you manage to turn in his embrace, your back now pressed against the kitchen counter with heeseung’s arms trapping you in.

“after class. thought we could have dinner and watch a movie tonight unless... you have plans?”

the look on his face tells you there’s already an answer he’s expecting, an answer you know you can’t give him. as much as you would’ve preferred to stay in the comfort of your home, cuddling up to heeseung tonight, you made a promise to your best friend and you were going to keep it.

“i’m... actually going to a party tonight. i can help you cook now and- ahh heeseung!”

you squeal when he lifts you up onto the counter, easily manhandling you with his hands alone. the man is gentle, his hands very softly tracing circles on your inner thigh as he leans in, his lips just hovering above yours. it’s as though he’s playing you and like every damn time, you fall for it. especially with how good he looks today, his black over sized tee and matching black pants enough to have you swooning. it just had to be your favourite outfit of his.

“oh is that so? with who?”

“eun- eunji,” you’re barely able to answer him without stuttering, the feeling of his fingers so close to your clothed core affecting you way more than you hoped it would.

it’s obvious the man is enjoying your reaction a little too much, enjoying the way your body is practically squirming about and he hadn’t even done a thing. you almost fall off the countertop when his finger barely grazes past your heat but his hand at your waist thankfully keeps you in place, preventing any possible clumsy injuries.

“look at you baby, look at how you react to the tiniest things,” he chuckles, almost mockingly you, “i’ve taught you well.”

“heeseung... stop teasing...”

“then what would you like me to do baby?” the ends of lips curves into a smirk as his fingers begin tracing the thing waistband of your shorts that were becoming more of nuisance with every passing second.

“anything... please...” you wanted to run and hide, embarrassment now overtaking your body. you weren’t very vocal when it came to activities inside the bedroom, usually letting heeseung take full control of you and your body. rough, vanilla, fast or slow, you one hundred percent trusted in the man and his pace.

but there was something different in you today, the heat in the pit of your stomach screaming for you to just grab the man, to kiss him, to have him fuck you right here in the kitchen. without foreplay.

“yeah? would you like me to...” his hand slips past the hem of your pants as he speaks, his fingers immediately finding its way towards your throbbing clit that was yearning for his touch. the coldness of his skin against yours sends a shiver right down your spine but you wanted more, more than just rubbing. the man chuckles at your already dazed out state, his fingers now pressing against your core, “to fuck your pretty little pussy, hm baby?”

you hastily nod, the word embarrassment completely thrown out the window at this point.

“what else would like me to do? tell me.”

two of his fingers easily slips into you with how wet you were, the new sensation of being so full has you naturally laying your head down onto his shoulders, your hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life.

“you know i’ll do anything for you,” he adds in yet another finger as he leans in to kiss at the tears you didn’t even know were there, a proud smile now hanging on his lips, “just stay with me tonight.”

end.

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