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weixuldo · 3 months

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No Attachments pt 2

Jedi! Anakin x F/Dancer!Reader

a/n: so idk y this story appealed so much to me, but I just wanted to write pining casue I haven't done that in a while... I hope you all enjoy the second part of this mini series :)

Slight NSFW

Anakin’s growing interest doesn’t go unnoticed

Warnings: cursing, anakin is a little bit of a perv, exhibitionism, voyurism, horny thoughts, cursing, fantasies, masturbation, cannon typical violence, mentions of sexual harassment

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The colorful lights of the club shone perfectly against your skin as you enchanted the audience- you made sure to dress up extra nice tonight though because your little jedi was in attendance.

The duo had been coming in every few days for the past couple of weeks to monitor the areas, get new information, and to search for any dodgy characters.

Once you realized they would only be here on certain days, you decided to switch up your outfit cycle and routines; you said you wanted the younger of the two and you knew just how to get him.

Today was a normal day- the pair walked in and greeted your manager and the other employees; of course the younger, whom you learned was named “Anakin”, came up to greet you with a nervous smile.

Even after meeting several times, he just couldn’t seem to get a hold of himself when you were in his vicinity.

You noticed his lingering eyes as you weaved your way through the crowds each night, his sweaty palm when he shook your hand after a check-in (he noticed his perspiration and began offering his gloved hand instead).

The way he’d bashfully look away once you locked eyes with him- he was totally smitten.

The times he chose to “check-in” also didn't go unnoticed; he always pulled you aside right after a performance or right after you switched outfits (he really just wanted an excuse to gaze upon you for just a moment longer).

Little did you know that you were always on his mind- when he left the entertainment district and went back to the temple, no matter how hard he tried, you just simply would not leave his thoughts. Your perfect body haunted him as he would try to resist his natural urges.

He was better than this and he knew it! So why couldn't he stop himself from imagining you, spread out on his bed at the temple in one of your little outfits, beckoning him with hooded eyes.

“Anakin” you would call in a sultry tone, drawing him in.

He’d ravage your body with hungry kisses and pull at the perfectly fit clothing stuck to your body.

How many nights had he stayed awake with the company of his own hand, just imagining you around him?

He’d watched every one of your shows- he had seen your hips, how flexible you were, how calculated you were… he needed you to himself.

__________________________

You finished your main dance for the night and had a few private sessions lined up for some very eager patrons. You didn’t mind doing the private dances, it brought in good money- but they could be… uncomfortable sometimes.

The lace of your newest lingerie set brushed your thighs as you pulled it up; the first patron was a regular whom you really did not like- he was rude, touchy, and would often try to convince you to do things above your pay-grade…lovely way to start the night.

The dim hallway was lined with what looked like velvet and rhinestones, an obvious reminder of what you were here to do.

At the end of the hall were your assigned private booths, your patron was already waiting in there- you could feel the sleazy aura from behind the door. With a sigh you fixed a fake smile onto your face and strided for the door.

You prepared to knock but you felt a demanding presence behind you

Anakin.

Your perfectly painted lips curled into a smile and you gently nibbled on your lower lip before turning around. He stood a few feet from you, back straitened, arms crossed, and legs holding a domineering stance.

“Well look who it is, what can I do you for? Oops! I mean do for you” you teased with a confident smirk.

The jedi’s scarred eye twitched before he unfurled his arms and strode towards you, “need to do a check-in” he said bluntly before looking down at the floor (so cute).

“I’ve got a dance I gotta do first- can it wait for a minu-”

“No, tell that pervert he can get another dancer to straddle his lap- you’re occupied” he stated; his demanding tone sent shivers up your spine.

Funny he thought the people who pay to see you were creeps when he does the same things for free… just the other day you heard him stroking himself in the employee refresher; the fast plaps of his dick sliding through his strong hands, his concealed groans, and breathy pants… you heard it all- and you knew exactly why he felt the need to do that while he was on shift. Quite hypocritical of him.

“Pervert, huh? Well I happen to need these pervs to come in and request dances so I can pay my bills” you said back to the man standing in front of you.

He stepped forward and pulled out a small device from his utility belt and fiddled with the controls, you stood on your tippy toes to peek at what he was doing. Once he was done he turned the screen towards you and impatiently muttered, “there, now may we proceed with the check-in?” .

The small device showed your banking account and a slip for a transfer of 3500 credits- holy shit!

“Anakin, what?” you said in shock.

“Now you don’t have to complain about losing money from that man” he said blankly before guiding you back to your dressing room.

You knew the Jedi temple had a stash of funds, but that was just crazy! 3500 credits to skip one dance!

As he guided you Anakin mulled over what to discuss with you in the room- he had just “checked in'' earlier today and both of you knew there wasn’t anything that went on in between then and now.

To be honest, he just didn’t want you going in there and dancing for someone… he didn’t like the idea of you doing that for anyone in private (unless it was him).

Once you reached your room, you sat comfortably on your sofa and he took the seat adjacent to you. He was about to speak when a pile of your fabric began to move- Anakin’s senses heightened and he was ready to attack anything that came out.

“Nechaska, my sweet girl! C'mere '' you smiled calling for your fluffy loth cat.

She hurried to your side and hopped into your lap with a content purr. Anakin scoffed at the cat, a little embarrassed it startled him so much.

“Nechaska?” he questioned, “you speak Huttese?”.

“Tagwa, um u jedai?” you responded with a smile.

“Tagwa mee'm tuta tatooine” he said, calling out his home planet.

“Very nice- I like your accent” you smiled at his blushing face.

“And I like your kitty” he smirked, pointing as Nachaska growled at the strange man in front of her, though both of you knew which kitty he was referring to.

“You like my kitty? Wanna play with her” you flirted back with a laugh before coaxing the ball of fluff in your lap to back down.

Yes I would, Anakin thought to himself before he strode closer and squatted down slowly so that he was eye height with the loth cat in your pretty lap.

“Nene” you cooed, using her nickname, “It’s ok baby, he’s not gonna hurt you”.

Anakin slowly extended his gloved hand but the cat swatted it away; she hissed once more before sinking her claws into his glove. Your eyes widened at her peculiar behavior before you pulled her away.

“Nechaska! Bad girl- we don’t claw people! Are you alright Anakin?” you asked worriedly.

Anakin’s eyes were trained on your cleavage as your robe slid off your shoulder as you calmed your cat down and it didn’t help when you called his name so breathlessly (it made his dick stir).

“Oh yea, i’m good” he said, snapping out of his trance.

“She has really sharp claws, are you sure you’re ok?” you asked again.

“Yea, don’t worry about it doll, can't feel it anyways” he laughed.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

He shrugged and began to take his glove off; you had never seen him without it. As it slid down his arm the fabric and skin was replaced by cool metal- a prosthetic! Did he lose it in battle-

“See, not a scratch- you don't have to worry about me” he said before reaching to pet your cat with his flesh hand, “She probably could tell it was metal- I’ve found that animals prefer the real thing” he smiled as she nuzzled her face against his large hand.

His large, strong, veiny hand. The tendons pulled as he maneuvered his fingers around Nene’s soft coat. His long fingers looked a little too appealing; wonder what would they feel like inside of-

“You’ve got a really nice pussy here” he said with a smirk, still looking at the cat (and not you).

“Yea, she’s really sweet” you said before pulling her from his reach, “Now what did you need to talk to me about?” you said impatiently.

He looked down with a smile and shook his head; he could tell you were jealous of the attention he was giving your pet- it was cute.

“Just wanted to ask if you had any more info or if you’d overheard anything lately?” he said as he took his normal seat on the velvety couch adjacent to your vanity.

“Ani- what would I have heard? I’ve been on stage all night” you sighed; you didn't even realize you had shortened the Jedi’s name (it was a habit for you to give everyone nicknames, especially since you’d been in this business to long- people loved a good pet name).

“What did you just call me?” the Jedi asked, placing his elbows firmly on his knees and leaning forward.

He seemed displeased; you inhaled sharply.

“Sorry, ‘ts a habit- I just shortened names a lot, I didn’t mean to offend you” you sputtered out as you subconsciously held Nene closer to your chest; her purrs against your chest gave you comfort.

What you didn’t know was Anakin had to slide forward because his dick perked up at the name; he called you into this meeting so he couldn’t just leave now- but he also didn’t want you seeing his obvious hard-on.

…Especially just from his name.

“It’s alright-” he said deeply.

“I won’t call you that again, My apol-”

“No!” he half shouted, half pleaded; he cleared his throat and shook his head, “no, you’re good, sweetheart”.

Sweetheart…

You almost had to suppress a moan as you clenched your thighs together. Anakin observed you and tried to analyze what was going through your mind- was the name too much?

Sure you were a flirty person but he could never tell if you actually meant it or if it was just your work persona. Either way, sometimes he just had to take a risk.

“Well then, Ani… What other knowledge can I offer you?” you batted your lashes finally gaining your footing again.

Before he could answer there was a familiar knock on your door, “Hey Z! C’mon in” you said standing.

Your boss walked in somberly with Obi-Wan and another dancer, “Excuse the interruption my dear, but a new development has just arisen in the case”.

“Anakin, we need to talk to this young woman, now” the bearded man beckoned.

“Would you be ok to do another dance tonight? Since Rini needs to be spoken to…” Z asked anxiously, his pale blue hands wringing around his robes.

“Of course, Z” you said as the jedi and your coworker left the room.

“What’s going on?” you asked worriedly once the door was closed.

The tall twi’lek shook his head and you ran to his side as he buried his face in his hands.

“Tarkir was found in the back alley, disarmed and severely injured” he explained and you allowed your Nene to sit in his lap.

Takir was a Togruta who was a few years older than you who worked as head of security at the club. You and him didn’ talk much but there was a general sense of comradery among the club’s employees.

But you did know that he and Z had been together since you had worked at the establishment (which was years…).

“Maker?! Where is he now? Is he going to be alright?” you asked, placing a comforting hand on Z’s back.

“He’s been taken to a med center but I’m not sure if he’ll pull through…” Z sniffled.

“I'm so sorry Z- Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head, “No, but thank you dear… But Rini-”

“What about Rini?”

His fingers ran through your cat’s fur as he calmed himself (you’d never seen him so vulnerable).

“She- She has been involved with the crimes… and the patron- Nevermind, I’m sure the Jedi will fill you in” he wiped at the tears forming in his eyes.

“No- I need to know that you’ll be ok, I don’t want to leave you like this Z” you said as you placed your hands on his shoulders.

He shook his head, “I’m fine- What would help me the most is if you would perform Rini’s number since she’s probably going to be arrested in a few hours” he attempted to joke and you nodded.

“Alright”

____________________________________

That night was the last time you saw the jedi pair; with the case solved, there was no reason for them to stick around.

The whole club had kinda gotten used to seeing them; honestly kind of a shame they wouldn’t be around anymore.

Months went by and people moved on, but you couldn't remove Anakin from your mind- you really did start to like him… But it was relieving to know the immediate danger was gone.

You still weren't really sure what actually occurred, but you did know that Rini was taken to the jedi temple and promptly replaced. Z hired a new head of security and spent more time at home caring for his lover and less time at the club.

Things had definitely changed- for the first time in years you were not enjoying your work anymore. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why but you had begun searching for other jobs.

Sure the crimes had been absolved but something about the place just felt unsafe- especially since Z wasn’t there to manage it full time anymore.

Tonight was the same as always, you got ready, warmed up, and headed backstage to wait for your cues. Recently your dancing had been lackluster- of course the patrons still enjoyed the show, but your heart just wasn't in it anymore.

The presenter announced your oh-so familiar stage name and you strutted onstage. The LED lights of the club flashed as your song began. Without much effort you strutted down the stage to the silver pole and completed a full carousel swivel before landing in a split. The crowd cheered as you maneuvered your legs into a new position.

There were more patrons than usual tonight; was there a holiday you weren’t aware of? You scanned the crowd to get a feel of what kind of people you would be entertaining here tonight- they seemed kind of rowdy.

You almost missed your next move when your eyes landed on a familiar face; those piercing blue eyes, that scar- Anakin.

As you continued your performance, he watched intently, eyes never leaving your form. He really wasn’t supposed to be here but it had been too long since he saw you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove your enchantment from his mind.

Night after night, he dreamed only of you; some nights he woke to stained boxer shorts, others, he had to rut his hips into his mattress to suppress his desire.

Finally, today he was able to slip away from the temple to take some much needed personal time; Obi-Wan had asked him what his plan was and he explained he needed to go into the city to look at new parts for his arm.

Obviously that was a lie, because Anakin had just repaired it about a week ago, but Anakin had a feeling Obi-Wan already knew what he was doing.

He donned civilian clothes and headed into the heart of the bustling city, ready to see you again.

And here you were, dancing across the stage- how he missed the colored lights across your soft skin; he needed to speak with you. Your song finished and he practically ran to the teller to set up a private meeting.

Forcefully he slammed his credits down on the counter and spoke, “I want to request room 3 with the last dancer that was on”.

“Oh, she is our highest rated dancer, her fees are very-” the woman said cautiously.

“I’m aware, I’ll pay whatever I need to have an audience with her” Anakin spoke formally, making a few patrons laugh at his vernacular.

“Alright” the woman replied skeptically, preparing to jot his name down.

“Tell her it's Anakin,” he said before the woman handed him the shiny golden key to the room at the end of the hall.

He entered the familiar room and sat with a nervous sigh- he was finally going to ask what he had been wanting to for months.

_________________________________

You let your hair down from the tight updo it was in as someone knocked on your door.

“Come in!” you said with a sigh; you really just wanted this night to be over.

The desk attendant walked in with a notepad and started reading off the private dances you had scheduled tonight.

“- Anakin”

You stopped what you were doing and turned towards her.

“Anakin?” you confirmed.

“Yes, he's a taller guy with a scar over his-” she began.

“Clear my schedule for the rest of the night- I’m only seeing him” you said as you hastily searched for your best outfit (an elegant dress that wasn't too revealing).

“B-but y/n, what about the other-”

“Tell them I have been fully booked or tell them that my availability has changed, ‘t doesn't really matter to me” you said, touching up your lipgloss.

She nodded before heading for the door, “He’s in room 3”.

Room 3… you took a deep breath as you made your way down the velvety hallway.

Everything's gonna be fine- just be confident as always.

With a tremor in your hand you reached for the door.

***

a/n: soo yea sorry abt all of the new characters but i wanted to make this story realistic lolll- idk y but perv ani has been on my mind 😩

#anakin x reader #anakin #star wars x reader #star wars #anakin x you #no attachments #anakin star wars #jedi anakin #anakin skywalker x female reader #obi wan and anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #sw smut #star wars episode iii: revenge of the sith

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kapapi-o · 1 year

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Heaven Sent pt. 3

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Previous parts: Part 1 and part 2.

Not proofread, oop [1.8k words]

des: A third addition to my ongoing FemReader x Cyno brothel series.

warnings: light drug usage, brief violence, and choking (#notkinky ofc).

Don't worry y'all! it's not as heavy as it looks. This series will have a good ending :))

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Before he could stand up and blast his friend for being tardy, the general had already entered, and the air around him was far from pleasant. So, he decided to cast aside his previous words of banter in favor of the matter at hand.

"You're later than our scheduled time, did something come up? How is she?" He queried and was glad to have assessed him earlier. There was certainly malice, with an aura that only matched the one that led the Mahamatra.

An aggression to unjust acts.

"Nari,” he spoke, voice laced in apprehension. “I feel sick to my core."

He says, clearly upset as he sat himself at a round table in the room, folding his arms as he did. Upon hearing that bit from him, Tighnari's ears knowingly laid flat on his head —there was no medicine he could concoct that would remedy this. A simple hearing’s out would usually suffice, but this was no ordinary occasion as a friend needing to vent.

He sat across him, ready for a debriefing of the operation and more importantly, the root of his friend’s anguish.

"Today, I gave her the orbs that you made for me."

"And?"

"She will do it, the task. But I can't shake the feeling that if…if only I…" Cyno halts, ashamed to say the next chain of his thoughts. Luckily, there was a botanist that could, and it made him cringe to see the general at a loss in his convictions. He grumbled at the sight,

"If only what? You could do better?" Without meaning to, he tsk' at the poor fellow in front of him. This was no time for self pity.

The fennec man sighs, rubbing his temple with his fingers before glancing back at his friend. It’s been a long day for the both of them, and so, he advises the obvious to him,

"Stop being harsh on yourself, Cy." Tighnari leans into the table, trying to beckon the man in front of him to reason.

"Now that you know what you have to do, it makes no sense to mope about it."

"I understand that much.” Cyno replies, though his expression suggested his feelings remained. “It’s just that I can't help thinking that this could have been prevented…"

Tighnari raises his brow, "What could've been prevented?"

"Any of this."

For once he remains silent because it’s true. There were obviously variables that were within the Mahamatra’s control, but sometimes, just sometimes, it so happens to slip past them at a blink of a moment. In the end, there’s just some things that can’t be prevented, even if he tried. That’s just the truth.

Now how could he convey that to someone as upright as Cyno?

Perhaps not…

Even so—There is still hope to right what’s been wronged.

Tighnari recalls the times Cyno had mentioned her, the woman in the brothel. The fennec man figured that she's the hope in this equation, well, more so in his equation with how the general openly fretted.

"Are you worried about her?"

"I am but…not as much as I was expecting to be.” Very slightly, Tighnari notices the change in the air from the way he spoke of her just as he always has from previous rendezvous.

“She's strong."

Cyno’s body finally relaxed after relentlessly sitting firm and uptight in his seat. Allowing his back to lay on the backrest, his gaze expressed that his mind was somewhere else, far away. As eager as the botanist is, he chose to withhold his own curious observations of him for another time.

For now, it'd be best to just let themselves ease up after an eventful day. Tomorrow brings a new set of challenges.

“Let’s believe in her then, for all our sakes.” Cyno hummed in agreement and sighed at the moon.

The following evening, everything had been set in motion. You had personally asked the women working tonight’s shift to leave the target be, so that he could be locked on you alone, –and sure enough, he came by.

He bore a seemingly plain looking face. A smile from him would be as inviting and hospitable as any vendor on main street, no one would be the wiser to know that he comes to a place like this when night falls, or that he would be the culprit to many heinous things in the deep underground of the desert. Not that you needed Cyno’s information to know that he’s scum. But if you were still somehow not sold, then that smug grin and cockish air to him would’ve done it for you. For now, that attitude is welcomed. You knew right away how to get this type of person under your will.

“A drink, my lord?” You kneeled to his side, offering the drugged chalice with lidded eyes that looked through your lashes. The man above you snickered, enjoying your ignorance.

“I’m no lord, my dear.” He passed a dark chuckle that made your skin crawl. “Just a man with heavy pockets.”

At plenty of others’ disposal. You wanted to say, regret becoming you for not spitting in his drink.

Fortunately, that did not last long because with all guard down, this gullish man took it and chugged it in a gulp.

With his average body, the drug was taking effect by how his eyes started to daze.

Here’s my cue.

Instantaneously, you feigned being flustered by glancing away. Tucking the strands of hair that escaped behind your ear, showing off your prettily blushed cheeks as you do.

“Ah…I’m sorry, sire…I noticed the quality of your clothes and assumed so,” you lean in, pressing a gentle hand on his thigh and your warm perfumed breath hits his neck,

“H-how could you know…the wi..ser? Hah..a..sit with me.” His words slurred as he struggled to stay awake.

“Of course, sire.”

A few teasing touches later and he was dragging you to a room, but not just any room, though. It was a room furthest from the main hall so noise wouldn’t be heard, and a wide window showcasing the waste land. Perfect for anyone to just climb into and abduct someone. Honestly, you had to pat yourself on the back for getting this room all to yourself at short notice.

The job wasn’t done just yet though. You still had a bumbling bastard to deal with. He was almost out of it, so you coaxed him to rest his head on your lap. Once you heard heavy snoring rolling in, you pinched his cheek just a bit to check if he was truly asleep. When all you got in response was an increased volume of snoring, you dropped your infatuated facade and shoved his head off your lap.

You grabbed a wet cloth from the corner of the room and wiped the areas he made contact with, then threw it at his face. You then hang up the green colored shawl, signaling to Cyno’s aids hiding nearby that the target is ripe for the taking.

As you waited for minutes but it felt like hours, a shrill scream broke from the quiet ambiance and echoed down to your room. It startled you to say the least, but your uneasiness didn't subside because the scream had evolved to shouting.

Carefully, you moved to the locked door and pressed an ear to it. From what you've gathered of muffled voices, it seems to be a one-sided argument between the Madam and a client.

You sigh, there was nothing to worry about after all.

"Y-you…ungrateful wench...!" Your breath got caught in your throat as the horror of the man's hand on your ankle gripped you to the point of pain. Out of instinct, you kicked his nose with all your might, a small crack and pained groan emitted from him, and momentarily released you to hold the injured area.

You dash to the corner of the room where you tucked your things as the man crawled to you on his forearms, his lower body likely still numb from the drug.

"Y-you did something, didn't you?!" He manages to lunge for your leg and knock you down to the ground with him.

You can't scream for help. Whether that be the fact that if you did, you'd be as good as dead once the man tells her what you did, or the fact that it would be fruitless to cause no one would be able to hear you. Not when you purposefully picked the furthest room, and especially not when there was loud arguing going on.

So, you had to fight for your own. Continuously kicking your other leg to his face. Hoping to buy you time.

But for what?

How long will it take for them to show up?

Like always, and for many times more, no one will help you.

You were doomed from the start.

No.

Your mind spared a moment of clarity in the midst of all the negativity clouding it, and in that split second, a chance was thought of.

Your hand dived for something tucked in your things. Your hand searched and searched while your heart beat fights with panic. The man is up to your waist now, clawing at you until finally, your fingers brush against that familiar material. You grasp the orbs and pull it out from the sack.

I'm not helpless now.

With the orbs in the tight of your hand, you reach for the green cloth that hangs at the window and wrap it at the man's neck, tightening it in a chokehold. The man instinctively places his hands at the cloth, trying to pull away from the sudden loss of air.

Taking advantage of the moment, you knee him at his stomach, weakening him enough to roll yourself atop of him.

You then release the cloth briefly for him to gasp for air, –and only for your hand to shove the orbs in his mouth. You clasp onto his mouth with every bit of adrenaline strength granted you.

He, however, fought to swallow them so you quickly knee him in the middle where it's little. He winces and tries to gasp at the pain contracting his abdomen, but he ultimately intakes the drug. You release his mouth from your grip and he urgently coughs in between his gasps for air. He knocked on the floor harshly as his body once again tingled into numbness.

He tries to get up again, but with the lingering numbness from earlier still in effect, and the fresh dosage he just had, he succumbed to another slumber.

You push him away from you and back yourself to the corner, trying for the life of you to calm down your own adrenaline. No matter the method, you failed to compose as your breaths were still coming in like waves. While you did, your mind was replaying the moments fresh of passing.

Your eyes solely on the unconscious man in front of you.

In fact, you were so focused on him that you hadn't noticed the hooded figure sitting at your window, who also witnessed the last minute of your ordeal.

"You handled that pretty well." Another voice spoke suddenly into the room.

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A/N- To the folks that come back to this, thank you for your patience :)) (u guys help me fight my commitment issues <3).

There was def a lack of cyno w/ reader here but fret not, it'll all be made up for in the next part.

With loves, Kapi<33

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#cyno #cyno x reader #cyno x fem!reader #rescue #brothel au #genshin #sumeru #genshin impact #wholesome #y/n #y/n x cyno #evil men #cliffhanger

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aloneinthehellfire · 2 years

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Chapter 11: Into The Hive Mind

Raining Hellfire: Season One | Season Two

Raining Hellfire: Season Two

Word Count: 3141 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of wounds, childhood trauma flashback ig, near death experience?, fire, reader literally having bad luck for the 1000th time

[A/N: I really chose violence when it came to reader's character oops]

Into The Hive Mind

Steve stirs awake beside you and you let out a much-needed sigh of relief.

But before you could reassure him, he had already set his eyes on the person beside him.

“Nancy?” He said groggily and you almost burst out laughing.

Mike stared back at him, confused and slightly offended.

“Close. But, uh… really not.” You chuckle and he swings his head back around to where you sat in between him and Dustin.

“Y/n.” Steve frowns.

“Yeah?”

“Your head.” He tentatively reaches out to you but you lower his hand, surprised as his reaction.

“I’ll survive.” You smile. As he looked up at you, you had a clear view of the bruises forming on his face. “You on the other hand… I don’t know, Steve, I think this might be the end.”

He widens his eyes, panicked, and you immediately feel regret.

“Shit. Sorry, it’s not-” You sigh, rubbing your eyes, “I make inappropriate jokes when I’m scared.”

“No, don’t touch it.” Dustin speaks when Steve reaches to his own face, “Hey, buddy...”

Steve squints to see the boy more clearly. He was still coming around, completely oblivious to everything happening.

Dustin smiled, “You put up a good fight.”

“He was beating you to a pulp.” You comment, wincing.

“He kicked your ass but you put up a fight.” Dustin corrects and you smile sympathetically.

Steve’s hand reaches around for something to hold on to, unsure as to why he felt like he was travelling 60 miles per hour. His fingers brushed over your own and grasped onto your hand. You let him.

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for a half a mile, then… make a left on Mount Sinai.”

Once Lucas starts giving directions, that’s when Steve finally focused on what was happening.

“What’s going on?” He asked, groggily and you held your breath, watching as his eyes drifted to the driver’s seat.

To say he freaked out would be an understatement.

Since you most definitely had a concussion, it meant that someone else had to drive. Steve was knocked out, Mike straight-up refused to take control of a moving vehicle, Lucas panicked under pressure, and there was no way you were letting Dustin behind the wheel. Which left Max.

Lucky for you, you both shared the same father.

“Nice job, Y/n.” Your father praised as you stepped out of the vehicle.

He had dragged you and Max out to an abandoned parking lot since your mother had a doctor’s appointment. You always dreaded the days your father would need to take care of you. He only ever wanted to spend time with you when it benefited him. Today, he was teaching you to drive. He claimed it was for ‘quality bonding time’. You knew he just needed a getaway driver.

“Max.” He called to your younger sister, her blue eyes poking out above the comic book she was reading. “Why don’t you give her a spin?”

He jangled the keys tantalisingly at your sister who came rushing over, eager to be included. Your heart dropped.

“What? But she’s only 7-” You try but he glares at you.

“Do you not want your sister to have fun?” He asked, a smile on his face but dominance behind his eyes. He was manipulating you.

“Of course I do, I just-”

“Then shut up and let her drive.”

“Yeah, Y/n! I’m gonna ace this!” Max said cheerily, already swinging open the door and getting behind the wheel.

“Be careful.” You tried a smile but you didn’t have it in you.

Your father sent you another glare before sliding into the passenger seat. He was pointing just below the dashboard and you pursed your lips.

Lesson number one in driving: know how to hijack a car.

So, yeah. Max was the only one for the job. But… she was also a learner.

Steve’s screams became higher and higher in pitch once he saw the 13 year old girl behind the wheel.

“Calm down!” You yell over his screams, cupping his face to look at yours and it almost felt as if his breathing stopped, “She can drive, okay?”

Max swivels the car, tyres hitting the grass before returning to the wide road.

“Okay…” You stare at your sister with a tight smile, “She can sort of drive.”

“Why… what… you?” Steve shakes his head once you drop your hands from his face, shifting in his seat and making the small space even more uncomfortable, “Huh?”

“Good to see you’re putting that American education to good use.” You nod. He managed to glare at you, making you chuckle.

“Just relax.” Dustin soothed. He had a softer touch with Steve than you did, apparently. “She’s driven before.”

“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike scoffed, gripping the seat.

“That counts.” Lucas comments, eyes focused on the map.

Steve’s panic turned manic when Max sped up the car. Even Dustin and Mike looked uneasy. You rolled your eyes.

“Really, Max? You’re doing this on purpose now, aren’t you?” You say and the girl keeps her eyes on the road.

“We need to get there fast, right?” She replies. You don’t miss the small smirk lingering on her lips as you shake your head.

“Woah, stop the car!” Steve yells out, practically thrashing about.

“See, I told you he’d freak out!” Mike shouted out. It was all becoming chaotic now.

“Well, yeah.” You deadpan before raising your own voice. “Maybe we should have thought through the whole there’s a child driving the car of the guy we just sedated issue!”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die in a tin can.”

“Can we just knock out Steve again?”

“Everybody shut up!” Max screams, pedal to the floor, “I’m trying to focus!”

“Take this left!” Lucas yelled out multiple times before the girl saw the turning.

Soon enough, everyone was screaming as Max hit a sign post and sped around the corner, tyres screeching from the speed.

Once she was back on a straight drive, the car was silent once again. Steve slowly turned to you, blinking through his bruised eye with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Okay… so maybe she can’t drive.” You smile awkwardly and Steve closes his eyes, muttering a prayer.

The car finally stopped, thank god, and you all scrambled out of the vehicle and to the trunk.

You begin efficiently handing everyone their gear, passing out protective clothing and, more importantly, face masks. You didn’t know if the air was toxic down there. You had managed to breathe when you were in the Upside Down but ever since that day, you’ve not been the same.

You hear Steve practically fall out of the car and onto the grass, still slightly dazed as he attempts to grab your attention.

He starts calling out but you’re too focused on tying the bandana around Max’s mouth, adjusting her goggles so they held the fabric in place. You gave her a swift nod and she moved to grab a flashlight, allowing the next boy to step up to your little station.

Once Mike was done, he grabbed the gasoline and walked to where Max was stood next to the tunnel Hopper had left.

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?” Steve asked. He was completely ignored. “What, are you deaf? Helloooo?”

You shake your head in response. There was no way Steve would be able to put an end to the plan. You finished adjusting Lucas’ mask and sent him to Mike.

“We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear!” Steve tried again with no response.

Dustin sighed once you pat his shoulders in approval, handing him a pair of gloves.

“Hey, there’s no chance we’re going down into that hole!”

Steve stumbled over to you, resting against the trunk and looking to you in exasperation as you pulled on your own gear. He let out a sound of frustration when you ignored him.

“This ends right now!” He grabbed the glove right out of your hand and threw it to the ground.

“Really?” You sigh as Dustin turned to him.

“Steve, you’re upset. I get it.” Dustin placed a hand on his shoulder. “But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance.”

“Damn right.” You agree, picking the glove from the floor and sliding it onto your hand.

Steve stared at you, clearly confused as to why you weren’t taking his side. You pull down your mask and shift up your goggles to step towards him, closing the space enough so that he could see you clearly in the moonlight.

“Look, these kids aren’t gonna listen to a word we say. Will is in danger. They already lost him once, they won’t lose him again. The only thing- the only thing we can do right now… is make sure that these shitheads don’t die. Understood?”

Your words caused Steve to glance at the smaller boy next to you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Dustin beaming up at you.

“She just called you a shithead.” Steve pointed out, frowning at his reaction still staying the same.

“Because she’s awesome.” Dustin shrugged and you smiled genuinely at his comment.

“Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe.” Dustin continued, grabbing Steve’s bat and holding it out, “So, keep us safe.”

Steve turned his eyes back to you and you offered a smile.

“Come on, King Steve. You’re not gonna let down a loyal follower now, are you?” You guilt trip, standing behind Dustin and holding onto his shoulders as you both pouted.

After a beat, Steve grabbed the bat with a sigh. You and Dustin high five before you grab your own bat.

“I hate you.” Steve mumbled, chuckling under his breath. You nudged his shoulder once Dustin walked away.

“Good to know Hargrove didn’t hit you too hard, hair-head.”

“I could’ve won that fight.” Steve grumbled as you both walk towards the kids.

“I have no doubt in my mind.” You smile, shaking your head as you move around to the other side of the hole, checking on everyone. If you had just looked back, you would have seen Steve staring at you in bewilderment. You had both changed a lot since you met.

Steve, despite wanting no part of the plan in the first place, jumps down into the tunnel first. You couldn’t help be a little impressed with how easily he did that.

He quickly lowers down each of the kids with you holding them in place. After, it just left you sitting on the edge of the gap, mentally judging the drop as you gripped the suspended rope.

Steve holds his hands out to you and you raise your eyebrow.

“Seriously?” You comment, raising the other brow when he persists. “I’m a big girl, I can jump into a hole by myself.”

“With that leg?” He comments, making you grit your teeth. “Oh, and that shoulder looked pretty nasty-”

“Okay, fine!” You cave, accepting his lift.

You hold onto his shoulders while his hands hold firm around your waist, gently lowering you down with more ease than you expected. When your feet hit the ground quicker than you had prepared, you stumble toward Steve and he quickly catches you, hands still holding their place.

“Steve?” You finally say, breaking the small silence in which you just looked at eachother.

“Yeah?” He breathes, eyes fixated on yours.

“We should probably be following the kids.”

“Shit, yeah.” He snapped out of… whatever was happening.

You both cleared your throats, stepping away and grabbing your bats, muttering excuses to eachother as Steve runs to the front of the group, claiming that he should be leading.

You decided to take up the rear in case anything attacks from behind. You’d rather be the one caught in a fight. What’s another scar anyway?

Travelling deeper into the tunnels, you felt stronger. Some kind of adrenaline was coursing through your veins as you crept closer to the core. You weren’t sure if it was just from nerves or if this place was actually affecting you.

“What is this place?” Max wonders out loud, taking in the vines across the walls.

“Hive mind.” You shivered. You felt powerful here, and that scared you.

“Keep moving.” Steve ordered once he noticed some of the kids slowing down.

In front of you, Dustin stopped completely, looking upwards. You crane your neck to see some kind of flower staring back at him. Your eyes widened when you saw it breathe.

“Wait!” You yell but the flower had already coughed, spitting white dust onto the boy.

Dustin crashes to the floor, screaming out like he was in pain. “Shit! Help, help, help!”

You run to him, scanning his body for any reaction, anything that the dust could have done. You couldn’t see any wounds, but the boy was still crying out. A heavy pit dropped in your stomach. What if the mind flayer had gotten him?

“What happened?” Steve yelled, everyone running towards the screams.

“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!” He whimpers and you feel helpless.

“What if it got him too?” You voice your worry to Steve, staring up at him on instinct even though you knew he couldn’t do anything to help.

Dustin starts retching, coughing like he was losing oxygen.

“Dustin!” You cry, everyone panicking around you. You didn’t know what to do, how to help. You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t.

Then, all of a sudden, he stops. Dustin turns to stare at you all, taking in a deep breath. You back up, confused.

“I’m okay.” He sighs. Everybody groans.

“You serious?”

“Very funny, man.”

“Nice.”

“What an idiot.”

“Fucking hell.” You breath, resting your hands on your knees as you double over, calming yourself.

“Sorry.” He says to you, looking down at his feet. You reach over and pull his mask back up.

“It’s fine, Dustin. I would have freaked out too.” You shake your head and he sighs with relief at your comment.

“It was a close one.” He whistles and you pick him off of the floor, pushing him in the direction of where the others went.

“Come on, you idiot.” You shakily laugh, picking your bat up from where you dropped it and following him.

One more small tunnel and you find yourselves entering a wide cavern of sorts, many tunnels feeding into it.

“Drench it.” Mike commands and no one objects.

The kids and Steve get to work with the gasoline while you stand at the entrance, nervously glancing behind you at every small noise you think you hear.

“Don’t you want a part in all this arson?” Max joked, making you laugh slightly as she joined you.

“Nah. I think I’ll just keep being the great babysitter I am and let them play with fire.” You nod and she giggles.

“This isn’t what I was expecting.” She shares with a sigh, “Moving here.”

“Well, Hawkins is full of surprises. Nightmares, but surprises.”

“Yeah…” She nods before suddenly pointing to you. “But I meant you.”

You look to her in surprise, a smile appearing under your mask.

“I’m really happy that you’re here.” Max says, moving towards you and you catch her in a hug.

“I’ve missed you, Madmax.”

If you had been told a year ago that you would have the chance to reconnect with your sister, you wouldn’t have believed it. You had done the work, saving up money to buy tickets to California, to take her away from the people known as your family. But deep down, you had a constant fear that you’d never get to see her again. You never expected to have her come to you. At least the universe did something right.

“Okay. I think we got it all.” Lucas nods, looking in your direction.

You let go of Max, still staying close. “Then let’s light this baby up.”

You all crowd further into the tunnel, Steve leaving a trail of gas for the fire to follow. Max grabs your hand as you all crouch to stare into the tunnel.

“You ready?” Steve asks no one in particular.

“Yeah.”

“Ready.”

Steve looks to you as he holds out the lighter, double checking with you. You. No one else.

“Do it.” You nod and it’s all he needs to hear as the lighter flicks open.

“I am in such deep shit.” He mutters, throwing the lighter into the tunnel.

Once the fire connects with gasoline, the ground goes up in a fiery blaze, much quicker than any of you were anticipating.

“Okay, yep. Pretty fire. Let’s go.” You turn the kids around, pushing them back through the tunnel while your eyes stayed fixated on the flames.

Steve ushers everyone out, turning back to notice you still staring. The vines were physically crawling away from the heat. You could almost feel the fire-

“Move it!” Steve yells before grabbing your hand and pulling you away before the fire reached you as well. But you already felt it, lingering in your bones.

You both caught up to the others and he dropped your hand. You take the rear again, herding them through when all of a sudden panic flushes your mind, a numbing pain spreading across your whole body.

You keep running, even when your eyes deceive you. Ahead of you, you swore that you could see a small swarm of black dust heading in your direction. But your goggles must have gotten dirty. The practical side of you knew it was just grime.

It was wrong.

The particles entered your mouth with force, some unable to penetrate the mask, and the attack knocks you off your feet.

Mike turns at the sound of a sudden thump. “Y/n!”

In doing so, he stumbles over a vine, crashing to the floor. The vine snakes its way around his foot and up his leg and he immediately cries out for help.

“Mike!” You yell, trying to stand up but feeling light-headed. Oxygen was barely entering your body as you sat, coughing.

Dustin and Lucas run back, Max close behind, and they all try to pull Mike away from the vine. It’s grip is firm. Steve manages to step up to the vine and strike it with his bat over and over until Mike is free from the grasp.

You wince out in pain as the connection is torn, the vine screeching.

“Guys, we gotta go!” Steve pushes them away from the vines and runs toward you.

He reaches his hand out before abruptly stopping. You look up at Steve in confusion, ready to move until you saw that he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was staring behind you.

Slowly, you turn around. Your eyes widen.

“Shit.”

Chapter 12: No Man Left Behind ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #fanfic #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #eddie munson x reader #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #will byers #max mayfield #billy hargrove #steve harrington #st2 #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader

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noirsvault · 4 months

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Oops sorry for the disorder, but I opened the game expecting to see my kids in today cutscene, but they decided to stab me right in the chest instead OUCH

UGHHHH

So, er, a little villain story for mutuals who don't read bnha or didn't reach very far in the story, I guess? There will be lots of spoilers tho so if you don't want to be spoiled or simply don't care, then just move on I guess...

So Jin's quirk is that he can create countless clones of himself or other people, as long as he knows their measurements. The clones are less durable than the real deal btw.

There's one period in his life when he was very lonely, no family, no job, no friend. And I think he's the type that always yearns for people connections. So he started creating clones of himself to make friends with himself, and also to create a robbery gang of himselves oops (did I mention he had no job?)

One day, there's a dispute in his himselves gang, which escalated into him being tied up while the clones arguing about which one of them should be in charge if they killed him, which escalated into the clones fighting and eventually killing each other in front of him, until he's the only one left with a big cut on the forehead.

That incident messed up his mind badly. So he had to cover his head all the time because he's scared that he would 'split' again. That, along with several consequential mental issues, drove him further from the ordinary society to be an absolute outcast. And have I said he is the type that yearns for people connections??

He is ride or die for the League of Villains because it is the only place where he feels accepted and belonged to. (Because everyone there is also weirdos basically, but anyway.) So he joined them in several villain activities, starting with attacking high school (read: UA) students' summer camp 💀 and abducting a high school kid (read: Kacchan) 💀

He probably also killed many people in villain disputes? (Esp. the Liberation Army?) But they are just randos and villains so nobody cares ╮(╯∀╰)╭

Tbh, Jin's life is just chain and chain of consecutive consequences of his own Very Bad Choices™️. But he is also a ✨️Friendship✨️Supremacy✨️ guy who loves✨️to✨️make✨️friends✨️ anywhere, and he was shown to care for his friends a lot *sigh*

Anyway, he wasn't there at the time the LoV finally DID success at something that actually harmed NUMEROUS civilians. Because just before it happened, he died ,_,

His last clone of himself protected Toga (by killing a hero trying to capture her btw 💀), while it was also on its last leg. His actual body had died just a few minutes before that, without Toga's awareness ,_,

Aaanyway the writer of this collab just woke up and chose violence haha ouch

#bnha #gbf x bnha #should i tag jin tho #I'm not a villain stan btw #I tried to tell it as objectively as i could tho #apparently many people in this fandom resonate with Jin deeply #so talking about his death and its deservingness is like opening a can of worms oops

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taketwoinink · 2 years

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Oops, apparently I woke up today and chose violence

#I wanna fight someone #let me at them #does anyone need someone fought?#I'm ready #just tell me who #and how many pieces to leave them in #(for legal reasons that last part is a joke)

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allofuswantgwinam · 2 years

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i think i woke up and chose violence today oops

#i am on one to my mangers but likkkke #they’re pissing me off bc they’re so lazy and act like I’m the only one in my department #been here almost 5 hours with no break #maybe 6 hours #also I’m getting a new job #and they don’t drug test this time 😂😂#I’m hype

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waltzofthewifi · 2 years

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*writes the word kwami*

*gets distracted*

*looks back at my phone*

*is confused because I only have the word ‘Keanu’ written down*

#miraculous ladybug #oops #autocorrect woke up today and chose violence

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adecila · 3 years

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Oh i want one fic, "one", were ned says yes to cersei and becomes joffrey hand and cerseis lover 😭

Oooh this would make for a fun AU. Unfortunately saying yes to Cersei would be a bit ooc, but a good author with the right set up could make it work 😏

So petitioning the capable nedsei writers for this one 🥺🥺🥺

#nedsei #alice has mail #you could make it work if you added enough motivation #shift some events around and suddenly ned realises that the only way is to go for a Targaryen restoration #he knows dany is alive #a well executed plan of exposing the lannisters and it could work #get you some enemies to lovers...and back to enemies again because he'd have to betray cersei #the plot twist? he actually falls for her and she falls for him #ohh the au that would hurt like a motherfucker #ned reveals jon as Rhaegar’s son before he dies #and imo he still has to die in this au #last scene is of cersei having a breakdown when she finds out about his death #he has to die because of her #to amp up the guilt oop #and then cut to jon beheading her for killing ned #wow that took a turn #🥲 guess i woke up and chose violence today

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

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Hello to my favorite writer!!!

I saw that you had time so how about some mafia bucky with like a badass reader and like people are more afraid of her than bucky

And maybe like instead of reader being in danger and bucky coming to protect you can make that bucky is in danger and the reader saves him 🙃

Love you !!

Ok I love you so much right now, you are seriously fuelling my Mafia!Bucky addiction! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Lioness || Mafia!Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, blood, violence, murder, smut. (in that order too lmao) this badass reader got real violent in the middle there oops someone woke up and chose violence today WC: 3116

Prequel || Part One

Two men stood arguing in the shadows, watching the man tied to the chair hang limp and unconscious. The Don turned to his Capo and grabbed the lapels of his shirt as he saw the ‘gift’ he had been brought. “What the fuck is this?”

“What you asked for?”

Throwing the smaller man aside, the boss strode out of the dark and slapped the man until he woke. Grabbing his hair, he tipped his head back and turned it to the capo so he could see the crystal blue eyes. “I asked you for the head of his mob, you brought me the Dona's bitch.”

“You fucked up.” Bucky laughed despite his split lip that reopened with his smile. “My girl’s going to take pleasure draining the life out of every single one of you cocksuckers.”

Bucky’s head rocked sideways at the backhand he received and the rival Don’s jewel encrusted rings sliced his cheek. A pained groan escaped his bloody lips but that was the only satisfaction he gave them at his suffering as his fingers pressed the crown of his watch, the movement hidden having by his hands tied behind his back. It was only a matter of time until you arrived.

“We need to move out.” The Don ordered his men. “Call everyone, tell them to get to the casa sicura.”

“It's one woman.” The Capo frowned as he watched his boss’s face pale. “What threat could she possibly be?”

“You obviously don’t know how a lion's pride works, do you? You look at a lion and think he is fierce but the truth is without his lioness he would starve. The lioness hunts, the lioness protects. He is merely there to fuck and please her.”

“Give me some good news.” You snapped as you shrugged your jacket from your shoulders and tossed it over the back of your office chair.

“The tracker in his watch has just come online but it's deep in Little Italy.” Steve, your 2nd in command, updated you as he typed on his laptop.

You dropped into your chair and mindlessly twirled your butterfly knife as you wondered what the Don was up to. He had never been brave enough to outright start a war with you, there had to be something else going on. It didn’t matter, there was nothing to ponder, Bucky had been taken and you would stop at nothing to get him back. Slipping the knife back into your pocket, you opened the cupboards that lined your office and saw the arsenal of weapons waiting for you.

“You’re not seriously just going to go in there are you?” Steve gawked as you pulled on a custom bulletproof vest that doubled as a holster that could fit four handguns plus magazines.

“You’re not seriously just going to let them kill your bestfriend and your boss are you?” You shot back without looking as you checked the magazines were full before shoving them into place and grabbing a rappelling rope.

“Of course not, but you’re indispensable unlike the rest of us.”

Steve joined you and began to arm himself while you monitored your husband's movements, the red blip making its way through Brooklyn. “They’re on the move. Time to go.”

“Woah, we should wait for reinforcements-”

You cut Steve off with a glare and he gulped his suggestion down before following you out of your office and down to the garage. You looked over the array of keys and chose the Rolls-Royce Cullinan since it was the fastest of the armour plated vehicles you had collected. You didn’t bother looking back to make sure Steve was still with you, he either kept up or got left behind, it made no difference to you.

“I can’t believe you have a fucking shield.” You rolled your eyes as he slipped into the passenger seat and dropped it at his feet.

“Better than getting shot.”

The roar of the engine as you hit the accelerator drowned out the degrading insult you muttered and you flew out into the traffic with little regard for anyone else on the street. Red lights, stop signs, angry horns. They all went unnoticed as you raced across the city, weaving in and out of cars so you could get to Bucky as fast as possible. You couldn’t imagine your Italian rivals being gentle on him and the thought of anyone hurting Bucky sent fire igniting in your veins.

Your knuckles gripped the wheel tighter and Steve watched as your jaw clenched. “He’s gonna be fine. I know he’s soft for you but that jerk is still a tough son of a bitch.”

“If they have hurt him, I swear to god the streets will run red with their blood.” You said as you took the break in traffic to look at Steve. “It will be fucking biblical.”

The car fell silent as Steve avoided looking your way. You knew he couldn’t understand your bloodlust, very few people could. It was a man's world and the men only seemed to understand strength through violence. To be a part of their world you had to be more violent, more deadly, so they would see you as an equal. It turned out you did more than just become an equal, your reputation became the whispers of nightmares and rivals began to fear you more than Bucky.

Bucky was the only one who accepted you and loved you for who you were. He never once tried to rein you in like the others or grew jealous of the power your name held, he thrived on it. It was why you would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant being hopelessly outnumbered in enemy territory. He would do the same for you.

“Park down that alley on the right and we will have to go the rest of the way on foot.” Steve said as Bucky dot stayed stationary inside the industrial building.

You parked in the shadows and shut the engine off, turning to Steve before he could climb out. “I need you to stay here.”

“No way, he’s my best friend!”

“And he’s my husband!” You hissed. “I need you to have the car ready for a quick get away. Don’t make me pull rank here, Rogers.”

He didn’t look happy but he didn’t argue which was the best you could hope for as you tossed him the key and opened the door. “Give me five minutes then move round the block to the front. Unless they have RPGs you should be safe with whatever they fire at you.”

“Should be?” He muttered. “That’s reassuring.”

Your lips tipped up into a smirk at his sarcasm and you stepped out of the, turning back and hitting him with your own. “Guess you could always hide under your shield.”

You quietly closed the door and disappeared up the rusted fire escape, making your way over the rooftops instead of the busier streets below. Spotting an armed guard up ahead, you hid behind a water tower and drew your knife from your pocket. You would have plenty of time to use your guns but for now you didn’t want to announce your arrival.

The steps of the guard grew closer and you heard him humming a tune as he approached, your men would never be so stupid as to do that because it made it too simple to pinpoint when they would be in reaching distance. Your hand flew out, swiping the blade across his throat before he could even react and you grabbed his shirt to pull him away from the view of anyone else, his quiet gurgles stifling the song he had sung.

You froze as you heard another man calling out, assuming he was looking for his deceased amico. You waited ready as before, back pressed to the water tower and knife waiting for its next victim. This time your target was alert for something amiss and his steps were quieter, the sounds eaten by the noise of the city below. You spotted his gun first, peeking around the corner and you blocked the turning body with your forearm before slicing his wrist, the gun clattering to the rooftop as his tendons were rendered useless.

His scream erupted faster than your hand could bury the blade in his throat and you knew your stealth positioning was ruined. Grabbing the rope from where it hung over your back, you tied it around the two men and hooked it into the special clip on your vest. There was no time to second guess your plan as you heard the echoing sound of more than one pair of boots on the metal stairwell of the fire escape. Running across the roof, you ducked as gunshots sounded and leapt over the edge.

The rope burnt your palms as it ran through your fists and you hoped the bodies above stayed where they were before you clenched your grip and came to a jarring stop, your arc stopping before gravity pulled you back towards the building. The stunned face of the Don standing in front of the wide glass pane was almost comical but there was no time to laugh before your feet crashed through. Shards of glass tore at your clothes but you rolled to a stop relatively unscathed and drew two guns as you rose to your feet.

“Kill her!” The Don screamed as he rose from where he had fallen and shuffled his way to the stairs. “Kill the fucking bitch!”

You couldn’t believe this man dared give his soldiers orders but didn’t stay to see them through, he was not worthy of being their leader. Thankfully there weren't many of the soldiers in the room with you, most of his men must have been sent up to the roof and hadn’t made their way back down yet. Three well aimed shots dealt with them but one had managed to hit you before they died leaving your breath winded from where the bullet struck you in the vest.

Chasing after the Don you took the stairs two at a time, putting down everyone that got in your way, and you looked at your watch - 4 minutes and 38 seconds had passed. Finally, you reached the ground floor of the old warehouse and found the Don standing near the exit. Roofing iron lined the walls of the large commercial space and in the centre was your husband, slumped in a chair with slow streams of blood running down his handsome face. Your hand stilled as you looked at the weapon aimed at his head and the smirk on the Don’s face.

“Not so brave now are you, leonessa.” He spat. “Let me go, call this blood feud off and you can have him.”

You could hear the men from the rooftop coming down the last flight of stairs and knew you would be trapped on both sides any moment, you were running out of options and Bucky was starting to stir awake. If you could just see his eyes one more time before you died you would be happy. Suddenly the throaty rev of an engine pulled your attention away from the soldiers about to descend on you and towards the wall that was crumpling under the front of your Rolls-Royce, right beside the Don.

You dropped to your knees as you saw Steve’s window had the barrel of an AK-47 hanging out of it and he opened fire at the capos and soldiers, parking himself between them and Bucky. Your ears were ringing from loud gunshots but you couldn’t cover them as you needed your arms to crawl across the concrete and towards the Don who was pulling himself from the mess Steve’s entrance had made.

“Where do you think you are going?” You hissed as you grabbed his ankle and twisted the already broken limb, revelling in his scream. “This is what you wanted.”

“Please, it was a mistake.” He begged.

“You bet your ass it was a mistake.” You chuckled as your fingers curled around your knife. “One you are going to pay for with your life.”

You were bored of his tears and pleas, your ears already hurting and a headache forming. He was lucky, any other time you might have taken him with you and elongated his torture to appease the anxiety and stress he put you through but you just wanted to get Bucky out of there. You didn’t even take the time to watch his blood pool across the concrete or the colour drain from his face, you were already on your feet and wiping the blood off your knife before pocketing it and limping around your car to Bucky.

“There’s my girl.” Bucky sighed with a smile that cracked the blood that had dried on his cheeks. “Knew you would come for me.”

“Always.” You kissed his cheek gently as you reached behind him and sliced through the ropes that bound him, checking over the burn marks they left behind before helping him from the chair. Steve was already opening the door for you as you supported Bucky and got him settled on the backseat, turning your attention to your 2IC. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“I had to improvise.” He shrugged. “You were right about the armour though.”

“I’m right about most things. Now, get us home and have Dr Banner meet us there.”

You joined Bucky in the back seat and he took your hand as soon as you were in his reach, the familiar calluses settling the adrenaline that had been flooding your system since you heard he had been ambushed. Now that you weren’t high on hormones you were starting to feel the aches and pains of the many small injuries that littered your body.

“You’re bleeding.” Bucky said softly as he pulled the collar of your shirt away to see one of the cuts from breaking through the window.

“So are you.” You reminded as you leant into his touch.

“They barely touched me, doll.” He chuckled. “They were too scared of you to do any real damage.”

His fingers opened the buckles on your vest and pulled the thick layer away, not missing the wince as you moved so he could pull it off completely. Lifting your shirt up he saw the bruise that was already blooming across your ribcage and shook his head, softly placing your shirt back down before Steve looked back in the rearview. He felt terrible that you got hurt for him but knew that it went both ways and if the roles were reversed he would have done the exact same thing, just maybe not with the finesse you had.

“What am I going to do with you, babygirl?” He asked quietly as he kissed his way along your jawline.

“I can think of a few things.” You sighed as his shadow of a beard tickled your skin and your need for him spread faster than the goosebumps over your body.

Your fingers reached out for the control panel on the centre console and the blacked out glass began to rise, creating a barrier between Steve in the front and the back with you and Bucky. You could feel Bucky's smirk against your throat as his hand rose up your thighs in time with the window. Some jazz music began to play and you rolled your eyes at the poor taste both Steve and Bucky shared but you were grateful to have the sound overpower your moans as Bucky’s hands massaged your thighs.

“You get me so fucking hard when you I see you play with that knife.” Bucky teased you with his words and his fingers that were slowly opening your pants. “Seeing the fire in your eyes.”

“Yeah, like this baby?” You pulled the blade from your pocket, catching it with a twirl before running it down his shirt on the blunt side. “Should I just cut your clothes off so there’s nothing stopping me from having you this instant?”

His chest shuddered as a moan expelled on his breath and you watched his tented pants twitch as he enjoyed your teasing. Taking his belt you slipped the knife under the leather and sliced through it before dropping it to the car floor and pulling his pants down his legs. There was no patience left in you, you had to feel him. It was almost more reassuring than just seeing him alive, you wanted to feel his body under yours, his thick cock filling your pussy.

You kicked your own pants off and his hands guided you over his lap, his fingers teasing your entrance and feeling your folds already slick with arousal. He seemed to have as much patience as you did as he pulled you down to spear you with his blunt head, your heads tipping forward as you moaned together. You were careful of the cuts on his face, lacing your fingers in his hair instead and you gently kissed the corner of his lip that was split.

“You take more security now on.” You ordered as you rolled your hips over him.

“Mhmm, anything you want.” He agreed, knowing that you would stop if he tried to argue.

“I’m serious, Bucky. I can’t live in a world without you in it.”

His hands cupped your cheeks and he leant back so he could look you in the eyes, his blue irises blown with lust but still clear as the summer sky. “You won’t have to. Wherever we go, it's together. Hear me?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel every inch of him, needing to have as much of his touch as you could possibly get in the confined space. If your kiss hurt he didn’t show it but you could taste the metallic tang of blood on his lips as your tongue danced with his.

“I love you.”

You panted as your head tipped back, the assault of his tongue on your collarbone sending you head spinning before his thumb slipped between your thighs and added to the ecstasy. Everything felt warm, like the comfort of coming home to a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night and you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin as he replied, tipping you over the edge and into bliss.

“I love you too, doll.”

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Note

A drabble of what would prey jk do if a female Louri got endeared and enamored for oc?

A/N: oops. Warnings for violence.

At first, Jungkook simply thinks she's being friendly.

Now, there's nothing wrong with that- but the young Louri was getting a bit too friendly for his tastes. His kind didn't care much about gender when it came to choosing partners or even mates, so he was well aware of her advances as soon as they started- simply interested in seeing how far she'd go. Since children were managed by the government anyway, and his kind has been stable in numbers for more than fifty years, there was no reason to call anyone out for loving someone they couldn't have offspring with. Generations didn't matter in his culture.

You were yourself- one of a kind, not determined by whom you were born or raised by.

There was however, no excuse for her obvious affectoin towards you. With the way she was so close to you, she surely must've smelled Jungkook on you already- yet she chose the eager and dangerous route to pursue her advances even further. "Geez, kill her outside, though." Yoongi chuckles from the side, yawning as he stretches on his chair. "Don't wanna mop that shit up, and Tae isn't in today." He jokes.

It falls onto deaf ears however, as Jungkook finally comes out of hiding, walking towards where you stood- and he sees no joke in any of it. You made him proud and happy with the way you reacted though- clearly showing a dismissive stance, openly telling her with your body language that you had no interest in her. The girl across you however seems unfazed. "Your hair is so pretty too-" She fawns, reaching out as Jungkook interferes, grabbing her wrist tightly, making her yelp both from the shock and the way he was holding her.

There was no trace of the gentle Jungkook you knew with the way he was acting.

"You're disgusting." He comments with angry eyes, a warning glare sent her way as she tries to pull out of his grasp. "Are your fucking senses just shit, or do you just like things that clearly aren't fucking yours?" He challenges, as she suddenly turns hostile as well.

"You were the one leaving her alone like that!" She barks back, clearly in the mood for a fight- and you're not sure if only verbally, or physically. "I'd never do that!" She scoffs, and he suddenly dashes forwards, pushing her into a nearby table, breaking it on impact with a snarl, pointed canines on full display as she scratches his wrist angrily in return, just as riled up. She suddenly barks something at him in words you can't understand, and Jungkooks eyes widen before he tenses up, as if to lose it.

"Alright, Okay, that's enough you two!" Yoongi claps now, before he grabs Jungkook by the neck, effectively pulling the young Louri away from her, before he pushes him towards you. He lifts the young girl up by her arm as well, a human girl opening the front door of the garage so Yoongi can push her out. "I'll add the damage to your bill." He simply gruffs out, before closing the door. "And you, sit down. I can't have you between two fighting shits and get fucking hurt." He says, though there's a soft undertone, as the human girl walks towards the chairs where he usually sits, resting there again without a word. "And you-!" He barks at Jungkook, who's holding you, though you can see him shrink in on himself a bit like a scolded puppy. "-fucking hell, just go home." Yoongi simply sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks at the mess your partner had made.

Oh well- now you know that you shouldn't make him jealous.

#prey au #jungkook imagine #bts imagine

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taesspark · 3 years

Text

A Normal Friday Afternoon

drabble #1 from the Spellbound series

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au

word count: 2.2k

warnings: violence (oc punches jungkook in the face), swearing

It’s a normal Friday afternoon at Hogwarts, meaning everyone is going insane. You wonder why Professor Snape even bothers teaching Potions right now since it doesn’t look like anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention. He even chose a hard potion for the class to make, individually this time. As if making it an individual assignment could stop a group of annoying 17-year-olds from wreaking havoc.

You flicker your eyes in annoyance at Jeon Jungkook and his rowdy group of friends. They had created a game where they launch the ingredients into each others’ cauldrons, giving each other points based on how close it got. Usually you try to get along with your classmates, especially fellow Gryffindors, but Jungkook has always been the sole exception. There’s something about him that grates all of your nerves like a carrot. Maybe it’s the way he’s good at all the same things you are, but he makes it seem more effortless. Maybe it’s the way everyone thinks he’s so innocent and kind, when he’s been metaphorically (and literally) pulling on your hair since first year.

It started with the little things. You were friendly to him, like you are to everyone, and as an 11-year-old, you had nothing to complain about. Something changed one day when you were walking past him in the hallway to class and he hit you with a hex that he hadn’t mastered yet. You remember falling to the ground in pain, watching your stinging flesh go boneless. And Jungkook? He was laughing.

You’re no less of a witch or a Gryffindor though. With your limp arm, you cast the strongest dancing hex you could muster. It worked, of course, and Jungkook was known as “Happy Feet” for at least another year for the way he danced around Hogwarts that day.

It’s a memory you keep close, as a reminder to never trust the sweet smile and starry eyes of Jeon Jungkook.

If you looked at all of the detentions you’ve served in your 6 years of being a Hogwarts student (and there are plenty), you’re sure 99% would have been from fighting with Jungkook, whether it’s yelling at him, cursing him, or swatting him with your broomstick in midair during Quidditch practice. Because of course he would join the Quidditch team at the same time you did.

You’re not in the mood for fighting today, though. You’re exhausted from a frankly awful week, and you just want to finish your stupid potion, get your stupid grade, and go to your stupid dorm so you can sleep.

Your only good friend in this potions class is a Ravenclaw girl named Nina. For a Ravenclaw, she’s chatty, and she flits around you while you grind up asphodel root for your potion. With a quick slide of your knife, you dump the crushed root into your potion. It bubbled. Beside you, Nina bubbled even more, her personality like soda that had been shaken too hard.

“-and then Emilia told me that she asked Irene if she would go with her to Hogsmeade next weekend, but Irene said she’s already going with Jieun, but Sam told me that Jieun is going alone, so what’s even the truth? You’d think that she’d at least-”

“Maybe you should mind your business.” You give her a sour look, and you hope it isn’t too harsh. “Just a thought.”

Nina’s mouth curls into a rueful smile. “You’re spending too much time with Yoongi lately.”

You crack a smile at the thought of your best friend and his (only partly true) reputation. No one dares cross Min Yoongi, a 7th year Slytherin with a killer poker face. As one of his best friends, you can see right through it.

“There’s no such thing as too much time with Yoongi,” you grumble.

Nina leaves you alone after that, thank god. You usually have a higher tolerance for her chattiness and gossip, but today your patience is running thin. Luckily, she knows you well enough to not seem upset at your attitude.

You sprinkle a serum into the potion before stirring it clockwise ten times. It’s the last step of the potion, and yours is already turning the perfect shade of mint green. You count to yourself as you stir: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

You don’t make it to ten. You were so goddamn close.

“Oh, shit-”

You don’t register who curses. All you can see is a bottle of serum—someone else’s bottle of serum— being launched straight into your cauldron, and your entire potion splattering onto your front. Your robes sizzle where the potion hit them.

“Oops.”

You recognize that voice. How could you not? You almost want to laugh.

Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

The leech lumbers up to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. We were playing a game, and I missed pretty bad.”

He chuckles a little, surveying the green ooze all over you. “Green is your color, Y/N. Maybe they should’ve put you in Slytherin.”

You’re seething.

A temper is not one of the traits associated with Gryffindor, but at that moment, you think maybe it should be. Lions do roar, after all.

And roar is exactly what you do. Roar and knock Jungkook the fuck out.

The room is in chaos: Professor Snape is yelling, Nina is telling you to calm down, Jungkook is on the ground in front of you, more shocked than hurt, and half the class is chanting “Fight!” because the adolescent urge to create violence never truly dies.

“Take this outside!” Snape shouts at the two of you, grabbing you both by the collar of your robes. “Fight in the hallways, I don’t care, but this is not going to happen in my classroom. When you’re done, head to McGonagall’s office. I’m sure she’d like to have a word with you two delinquents.”

Jungkook stares at you, rubbing at the bruise blooming on his cheek.

The door swings closed, slamming in your face. With a huff, you turn around and vanish the potion residue still left on your clothes with a quick spell. You barely spare a glance for Jungkook. He stands several feet away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Do you have something to say?” You snap.

He opens his mouth. Then closes it.

You roll your eyes. “Listen, Jeon. I know you did that on purpose. Very funny prank, absolutely hilarious. Truly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing right now.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to the floor as if he expected to see you there, laughing.

“Let’s just go to McGonagall’s already,” you say, posture slumping at the thought of being yelled at by the intimidating professor.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, and you see him gain some of his usual bravado. “We were playing a game, I already explained this to you.”

You bark out a laugh, just one. “I’m not stupid.”

He cocks a brow. “Are you sure? I bet my potion was better than yours even though I was dicking around for the entire class.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hit a nerve?”

“No.”

It’s like this, for the long, long, long trek from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower where McGonagall’s office is.

“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” you say, turning the corner. Jungkook jogs after you to keep up.

“I don’t? No way, all this time I thought it was mandatory.”

He sounds more upset than snarky, and in your present state of blind rage, you don’t have a single clue why he would be upset. He’s the one who ruined your potion and got you sent to McGonagall’s office. He’s the one who has been a splinter the size of Greenland in your thumb for five years and counting.

“Besides,” he adds, as if you wanted to have a conversation with him, “you’re the one who fucking punched me in the face. It’s kinda hypocritical to call me an asshole in this situation.”

“That’s a really big word, Jungkook. Did you finally learn how to read?”

Jungkook’s face crumples into a frown. “Shut up.”

“Hit a nerve?” You mock.

You think getting to McGonagall’s office is a relief until you’re finally there. McGonagall is all but screeching at the two of you. You’ve heard the same lecture several hundred times, but never in such a high pitch. You offer to make her some herbal tea for her throat, and she only gives you the evil eye. Jungkook snorts beside you. You ignore him, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow.

“Never in my days…”

“...Such stupidity from my own students!”

You fade in and out of consciousness during the lecture, and one look at Jungkook tells you he’s doing the same.

“Detention for both of you. I will see the two of you here at 9 pm sharp every day for the rest of the week,” McGonagall finally says.

Jungkook groans.

“I’m being generous,” McGonagall says. “If I see the two of you acting like violent animals again, I can and will suspend you both from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

You and Jungkook both make sounds of protest, only to be drowned out by McGonagall.

“I hate to see my own team lose, but it has been five years of your childish fights. You two will learn to be civil to each other, and I will make sure of it.”

The tone of her voice makes you uneasy. Jungkook beats you to the question that’s on both of your minds. “What are you going to do to us?”

The fear in his voice would make you smile if you weren’t practically shaking in your boots yourself.

“As you know, in Transfiguration, I am going to be having everyone work in teams this year. I was going to let you choose your partners, but you two have not earned that privilege.”

You turn to face Jungkook. He’s staring back at you in wide-eyed horror.

“You both are now partners in Transfiguration. Sit by each other and complete the projects together. I will not tolerate any misbehaving in my class, and if you don’t work as a team, you will be risking your own grades.” McGonagall stares at the two of you with the smallest of smiles, disgustingly smug. She’s enjoying this, and you hate her for it.

“But-”

“Professor!”

“I won’t hear it!” She shouts. Jungkook recoils. “This is final. If you have a problem, you should’ve thought about that before brawling like wrestlers in Potions.”

You hang your head, staring at how the end of your robes skims your shoes. You don’t like to be dramatic, but this sure feels like the end of the world. The rest of your year is probably ruined, thanks to McGonagall essentially sentencing you to Jungkook duty. Not to mention Transfiguration is your hardest class, even without having to compete with Jungkook. You don’t doubt that this would make everything so much harder.

“That’s all I have to say to you. Please leave,” McGonagall says, pressing a thumb and index finger into her forehead.

The two of you file out of her office, stumbling down the empty hallway. You walk in silence, thankful that classes aren’t out yet. You stop a few corridors down, and Jungkook stops next to you.

You look at him, really look at him. Other than the bruise on his face a la you, he has a sweet face and kind eyes. You remind yourself that it’s fake.

You take a step closer to him, and he tilts his head at you, nonplussed.

“Y/N?”

You brush a hand on his cheekbone, where you hit him.

“Does it hurt?” You ask.

The hallway is empty, but Jungkook still looks both ways before responding to you, as if you were a car hurtling towards him on the street. He gulps at your proximity to him, how he can feel your breath mingling with his own and your fingertips’ gentle pressure on his face.

“A little,” he says, quieter than you. “You really know how to use your fists, huh?”

He laughs. To your ears, it sounds forced. You smile. Checkmate.

Without warning, you grab his tie and jerk his face down to yours, leaving just a breath of space between your noses. You lean even closer to Jungkook, and a smile ghosts your lips when you feel him moving closer to you at the same time. You wait for one more moment, letting your warm breath hit his skin. The moment he closes his eyes, you whisper, “Good.”

His eyes flutter back open, confused, and you take your foot and slam it down on his. He all but howls in pain, nearly knocking his head into yours as he hops away.

"What was that for?"

"If you still don't know, then maybe I need to step on you again." You narrow your eyes at him, still close enough to register the clean linen smell of his clothes. “Do not cross me again. I need a good grade in Transfiguration this year, and I won’t let you ruin that for me.”

"McGonagall is right there. I could go tell her," he threatens. His eyes are wide, and you pick up on the slightest fear under his façade of arrogance.

"Okay, do it. See if I care, asshole."

You spin on your heel and storm down the corridor, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake.

#bts fanfiction #bts au #bts drabble #bts writing #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook #jungkook x reader #spellbound #bts hogwarts au #bts fic

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