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bihanapologist · 4 months

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✮ noob saibot harassing his wife into joining him in death out of twisted love and care for them (feminine terms used but no gendered pronouns for reader)

w/c = 1.7k

cw = slight suicide ideation, noob calls reader "little bird" if that pet name is too cringe then please don't read!

a/n = the reader has a chronic illness and is the physical embodiment of spring simply because it parallels bi-han

You weren’t supposed to be here. You were instructed to hide. Your clan was supposed to protect you. But they’re gone.

Dead.

Your only option is to run. Return to that reprehensible faction. Find your brother-in-law — the only person you trust. Despite knowing that embarking on this treacherous journey would be unkind to your sickly body, you have to try.

Your body condemns your choice. You’re wheezing and hacking up blood as arrows whizz past your face. Your legs throb, begging you to end this excruciating torture. At last, your knees finally give up on you, sending you pummelling into the dirt. You lie there as footsteps grow closer and closer. Debilitated, parched and miles away from Articka, you close your eyes and resign yourself to your fate.

Loud, heavy thuds follow pained squawks. Your eyes snap open. You push through the bursts of pain to turn, to face your unexpected hero…or future killer. A man cloaked in black stands within the shadows — not under, no, he isn’t just shrouded under the shadows; he is one with them — a bloodied sickle in hand.

"Who are you?"

"Your saviour," the man replies with a rasp, his voice soft yet menacing. "Don’t you recognise me, little bird?"

Your blood freezes.

“You can't..."

"Can't what, (Name)?" he asks, a subtle amusement in his gravelly voice.

No, this couldn’t be him. But the only one who called you by that pet name was your ex-husband. Your dead ex-husband.

Years ago, you were wedded to the elder Sub-Zero — Bi-han. Although the union was solely for diplomatic reasons, it was a blissful marriage. Despite your illness and weak body, he never viewed you as a burden. At times, you would sing to cheer him up after a particularly tiring mission. In turn, he affectionately called you ‘oriole’ after the golden songbird. Your former husband — the one who cut you fruits and watched over your feverish form when you were bedridden — couldn’t possibly be the same man as the one in front of you.

His shrouded body ripples like ink, chalky pupilless eyes probing into your soul. His sickle glistens, beads of scarlet dripping down the polished metal only adding to the macabre image. The only word you would describe what you could behold is grim. Grim. Yes, his garb is akin to that of a grim reaper.

If this is Bi-Han, he is nothing but a shadow of himself.

"It's been too long, little bird.”

"You're not Bi-Han," you mutter, holding your breath as you take in his haunting silhouette. "My husband is dead."

"Dead, alive, it makes no difference to me. I am merely the tool of my master's will. But I do remember you."

Every step is slow. Every step is deliberate. Every step echoes through the vacuous forest as he treads past the lifeless bodies. Those same men that butchered your entire clan like they were cattle. The same men that chased you across China and were mere seconds away from claiming your life. All dead in the blink of an eye, slain by ghostly hands. He makes his way closer and closer to you, his presence alone instilling fear and dread as you slowly back away.

"I remember your beauty and kindness, but most of all, I remember your fragility,” he remarks, towering over your fallen form. "You are still so delicate. But you have more resolve than I give you credit for."

"Who resurrected you?”

"The Sorcerer Quan Chi, of course. He perfected me, gave me the power and body I deserve."

He straightens himself, the moonlight casting upon his umbrous form, beckoning you to bask in it. Your eyes only reflect fear and pity. This isn't the man you married.

"Perfect? Bi-Han, you've become a shell of the man you were!" you protest.

The mask covers his perpetually emotionless face, making him impossible to read. Bi-Han watches you in silence as you are overtaken by grief and anguish at the sight of him. You couldn’t even recognise him. You have heard of the horrors of the Netherrealm and creations that Quan Chi constructs but this is beyond anything you have ever seen. He doesn’t have his voice, he doesn’t speak like him, he barely looks like himself, can you truly call this your Bi-Han?

"You have no idea what I am," Bi-Han sneers. "I have become darkness incarnate. I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine, (Name). This perfected body allows me to do things I could never have done as the human Bi-Han. I have been reborn, reforged now by the darkness. And soon, the realms will know my terror.”

"Oh, Bi-Han," you croak, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. "How far you have fallen."

"I have not fallen. I have ascended with the darkness, and the shadows are where I belong."

"You belong with your family, Bi-Han!" you protest, voice breaking. "You belong with Kuai Liang and—"

"A dead man needs no family," Bi-Han states in that unfeeling, inhumane voice. "I am what I should have always been — but you will come to understand, once you join me."

Your eyes widen. "Join you?"

He takes another step closer, his silhouette blocking the moonlight and looming over your cowering form. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence.

"Yes, join me.” He extends a gloved hand. "Join me in the Netherrealm and be reborn."

"Why would I want to die?!" you bawl, backing away.

His gloved hand remains outstretched despite your blatant show of horror, his sickle in his other hand hanging by his side. There is a bleak, void-like darkness radiating from him, white pupils glowing in the night.

"For the same reason I did," he replies, his voice low and quiet. So that you can live."

"That doesn't make sense," you object, furrowing your eyebrows. "I am alive. My powers are of spring and rebirth. I'm the physical manifestation of life."

Bi-Han doesn't answer right away. Instead, he stares at you with those unfeeling eyes, his mouth hidden beneath the mask. You stiffen at the sound of laughter. It's the first instance where has shown emotion in this encounter.

"You call this living?" the wraith challenges you. "This existence where you are forced to live like a caged bird, hidden from others, tied to a bed, a slave to medicine. Can you honestly call that living?"

Your mouth goes dry. Your gaze is fixed to the ground, trying to form the words. He retracts his hand and he folds his arms. There is something ominous in the calmness of his movements, in the wisps of shadows emanating from him.

"What's wrong? Nothing to say?" He closes the distance once again, but this time, you don’t back away. "Do you know what it's like to truly live? I do. Being reborn as the shadow, the darkness — it is true freedom. Freedom you can only dream of.”

You bite your lip. "Bi-Han, look at what you've become—"

"I am more than I ever was,” he boasts. “The darkness has freed me, just as it will free you. You know better than anyone, oriole. This flesh you wear, it is weak. You could live without it, without those constraints. Be reborn, (Name). Let the darkness save you from the fragility you have always possessed, the weakness you have tried to hide."

“I can't bear to see you like this…”

"I offer you immortality, little bird. I am offering you the means to escape this fragile existence. There will be no more pain. Only life. Eternal life."

Tears flood your vision. Your head hurts. Your bones hurt, your body hurts. It’s cold and an airy breeze blows past your face, sending goosebumps up your skin. For years, you cried for your late husband. For years, you wish that someday, in another place and time, you could be reunited with him. Not like this. Your husband, your Bi-Han…how could he?

You freeze at the feeling of cold metal against your throat. You swallow, blinking away your tears as you gaze up at the wraith.

"My little bird," Bi-Han whispers, "I would do anything to protect you. Join me, and I will save you. I am the embodiment of death. And you are the personification of life. Let us dance in death together, under the moonlight."

…Living is a burden.

You never chose to live. You never chose to be born with this illness or to be hunted for your powers that you couldn’t even awaken. Is a normal, peaceful life too much to ask for? You had a glimpse of it when you were with Bi-Han. If you squint, you can still taste the sweetness of peaches swirling on your tongue. He always fed you when you were too tired to lift up your arms. He was so good to you.

You miss him.

You open your mouth to answer. But the feeling of hot ichor dripping off his sickle and puddling on your clothes causes the words to vanish in an instant. You stiffen when you catch the glint of the blade in the moonlight. Dread makes its home in the pit of your belly.

You don’t want to die.

A flash of ice hits the wraith square in the chest, toppling him off his feet and sending him colliding into a tree. He lays there motionless, his form sprawled over the ground. For a moment, you think he is dead until he lets out a groan and rises to his feet. His eyes glint under the shadows of his hood and he looks towards the source of the ice.

Lucidity clicks back into place and you let out a sigh of relief as you shake your head. "You arrived in time, Kuai Liang."

"(Name)!" Bi-Han’s younger brother runs over to you and helps you up. "Forgive me, I didn't arrive fast enough."

The wraith’s expression remains emotionless despite being hurled by the ice blast. Yet, you could tell that isn’t the case by the way his grip tightens around the sickle’s handle.

He snarls as the shadows covering his silhouette begin to gather, the darkness swirling around him like a cloak. He grips the sickle tightly in his hand as the shadows rise above him, shrouding his form in a blanket of darkness. The shadow shroud ripples in the night, and then dissipates, leaving nothing but emptiness. The forest is quiet once more.

“Was that really Bi-Han?” you croak, vision blurry from tears.

“Unfortunately so,” Kuai Liang answers. “We can talk later. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

divider by @/cafekitsune

#mortal kombat #bi-han #bi han #mortal kombat x reader #bi han x reader #bi-han x reader #noob saibot #noob saibot x reader

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 5 months

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Hello hello!

I saw your “Them comforting reader after a long day” post and i thought how about a “reader comforts them after a long day” with Furina/Mona and whoever you choose. I’m gonna go back to bing read your posts now! Take care!

Comforting them after a long day

characters: Furina / Mona x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: maybe slight hurt/comfort, but mostly fluff

a/n: Couldn't exactly go the full comforting route in Mona's path, bc let's be honest. That girl is too proud to show even a little bit of weakness or vulnerability, but this should do as well.

Oh, also: FINALLY A REQUEST FOR MONA I LOVE HER SO MUCH I- SOJDVNIJSDVNSIDVNSIDJVNIJSDNV

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

Even though Furina had promised herself not to hide behind a facade any longer, there were times she instinctively fell back on her old habits, the 500 year old autopilot that made it possible for her to keep her secret for so long not disappearing overnight. So when she finally closed the doors to her apartment, only to immediately turn around, lean onto them and let gravity do its job until she had slid down to a sitting position, Furina finally closed her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh she had held back for far too long.

“That was a big one. Want to talk about it?” Your voice suddenly rang out, causing her eyes to snap open and quickly land on your silhouette in the hallway as she struggled to leap back up, embarrassment flaming up in her as she tried her best to play it off as if nothing happened, only for her to end up leaning awkwardly against the door.

“Want to talk about what?” Furina shot back immediately, only to silently cringe at the way her words came out, putting on a smile as she slowly took off her shoes and coat and made her way over to the living room, being closely followed by you.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s also fine. Can I take your hand for a bit?” You eventually stated with an understanding smile, grabbing her head once she gave you a nod and starting to massage it by pressing your thumbs against different spots.

It wasn’t like Furina didn’t want to tell you… actually getting her complaints off her chest probably wouldn’t feel so bad. There was nothing stopping her except old habits and the fear something bad might happen once she opened up, that she inherited from her “former life” as Fontaine’s Archon.

“ No, I want to. But I’ll warn you. It might be a long and ultimately boring tale, so are you sure you want to list–” Furina interrupted her melancholic monologue when you pressed against a particular point on her hand, causing her to suddenly yelp in pain as you briefly stopped and looked up at her once again, your face asking her if you should stop. Just like with her opening up, your hand-massage was painful, yet also felt… pleasant and before long she signaled you to continue before reopening her mouth. “–so are you sure you want to listen to it?”

Without a moment of hesitation you responded, giving her a determined nod as you continued to carefully massage the same spot until stopped being painful, showing Furina one last encouraging smile until her complaints and worries started to pour out of her mouth. The former Archon talking until she felt the corners of her mouth dry up, with you intently listening to each and every one of her words.

…Maybe being more open every once in a while didn’t feel too bad.

Mona

Being an Astrologer was what Mona had always dreamed of being, so when it came to it, she wasn’t scared of pouring every single second of her free time into her work, even when chances were her research would reach a dead-end. Because even with fate ordaining everything that ever happened or still lied in the future, there was no way of knowing how things were going to turn out without at least giving them a shot.

So having her the last couple of weeks worth of work turned out to be for nothing when it became clear it wasn’t going anywhere was nothing Mona was unfamiliar with. It was simply a part of her job after all… but even though the great Astrologer Mona Megistus would never admit to being bothered by setbacks, you knew her better than to fall for her unaffected facade.

“Do you have ingredients at home?” You suddenly asked in the middle of your walk, immediately gaining Mona’s attention as she quickly got lost in thought, trying to remember what food she had used up and what still remained, only to eventually give up and shrug her shoulders, letting out a small sigh as she straightened her hat.

“There might still be some left. I can’t say for sure though, keeping stock of my supplies wasn’t exactly something I kept in mind these last few days,” she admitted only for you to quickly whip around your head, a smile adorning your lips as you came up with a suggestion.

“Let’s go out and eat something! That’s something we didn’t do in quite a while.” Considering Mona’s thoughtful look and how she paused in her tracks for a few seconds, it was fair to say that she wasn’t completely against your proposal, even if you were sure it would still require a lot of convincing to get her to finally agree.

“I’m not sure. Going out to eat when you could just as well buy ingredients and cook something is a waste of money isn’t it?” She hesitantly responded, still pondering as her fingers continued to scratch her chin. Truth be told. You couldn’t agree with her more. You had recently spent a lot of your money on things that in hindsight didn’t exactly prove to be the wisest investments, but even so, you felt as if it was your duty to get Mona to eat something tasty today, even if it meant eating nothing but bread and butter for a few days.

You knew Mona better than to not notice how demoralized she seemed the last few days, her sudden mood change and her increase in free time coinciding too well for it to mean anything except her latest research turning out to be for naught. Of course you knew better than to confront her directly about it… something that would only lead to Mona getting defensive as she’d deny feeling down about anything, too proud and stubborn to open up. And so, the only option left was for you to do what you did best.

“I know… But you’ve been so busy these last few weeks so I couldn’t see you all that much and... I’ve missed you,” you explained while trying your best impression of a puppy, “So can we please go out today?” When you saw Mona’s face heat up slightly as she quickly glanced around the two of you, looking if there was anyone in earshot, you knew your plan turned out to be a success, having to do your best to stop your lips from curling up into a smile when she let out a yet another deep sigh.

“Fine, but stop saying embarrassing things. We’re in public.”

#furina #furina x you #furina x y/n #furina x reader #mona x you #mona x reader #mona #mona megistus #mona megistus x reader

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making-monsters-happy · 4 months

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New Years Vampire Romance

Good evening! I have a new romance I wrote for New Year's. Hopefully, you guys like it. Let me know if you'd like to see more from them or another couple...yeah. I love reading yall's messages, and if you liked it. It's pretty hot, but I'm biased. It's a little under 2k words.

18+ only.

Nsfw..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned back in your seat slightly, trying to get a better glimpse of the creature standing before your oven. He looked human enough; a brown mess of loose curls sat on his head, pushed back from him, continually running his hands through it to push it out of the way of his face. He was at least 6’5; you remember how he leaned down to get in the door once he was invited in, almost like how he was hunched now over the stove. He turned it on and paused, facing you. His skin had no pores and was sun-kissed, and you found yourself compelled to reach out and touch his face. His warm red eyes caught yours, and you looked away without meaning to you. No matter how used to seeing them you thought you were, it was always jarring when he looked at you with such intensity. You couldn’t help but wonder what he saw in you. A meal? Something weak? Something titillating? There was some attraction; he hadn’t killed you, even when you’d done what no one in their right mind in your village would: you’d invited a vampire into your home. Maybe the attraction was just on your end; they could do that to humans, right?

While you were insane for offering him refuge, it wasn’t his sharp features that caused you to invite him in. If you lived to tell the tale and someone asked you, you’d say you’d been tricked into letting him in. When you first saw him, he was in the form of a small brown bat. Bats carried all sorts of diseases, but when you saw the tiny creature on your doorstep, you felt compelled to help it or put it out of its misery. All you said to the beast as you returned with a towel to pick it up was, “Let’s get you inside and fixed up.” The next thing you knew, you felt a puff of air hit you so hard you shut your eyes and took a few steps back. When you opened them, he walked inside your home, thanking you for your hospitality and introducing himself as Alessandro.

“You’re staring at me.” His voice is deep; it makes him seem louder than he is. You, on the other hand, find yourself almost whispering.

“Should I not?”

“Most say it’s wise not to; they believe it’s easier for us to corrupt your mind if you do.”

“Is that true?”

Alessandro doesn’t answer your question; he smiles, flashing his sharp fangs, and sits up, looking down at you. You can feel a longing starting to ache from in between your legs. You straighten yourself in your seat, your nipples protruding from the thin silk night robe you wear during the winter to help keep you warm during the night. You wonder if he notices.

“Why are you here?”

“Because you invited me in, did you not?”

“On false pretenses.”

He walks past you and goes towards your curtains, looking out of them. You take a deep breath as he walks by; the husky scent of the outdoors and an unfamiliar cologne leaves you wanting to smell more.

“I’ve been watching you. Your curtains are very thin; it’s not hard to look in, even for human eyesight. The men leaving the brothel may, at best, be able to see a silhouette when you’re changing into your nightgown, but you must remember my eyes are far better than that. I see everything.”

You readjust in your seat; the silk of your nightgown is pressed up against your cunt, and you feel the fabric getting wet. The kettle starts to scream, and you cringe, jumping up and running over to take it from the heat. Alessandro steps behind you, his large hand engulfing yours, and leads it over a cup, helping you pour.

“I can only watch someone I want sit alone in bed, touching themselves, moaning out to no one for so long, imagining it to be my name before I want to hear the real thing. Does that make sense?”

You nod, your face starting to feel as warm as between your legs as he steps closer to you from behind. You can feel pressure against your lower back from the front of his pants as he drops petals from a flower you don’t recognize into the hot water. Without a second thought, you find yourself grinding back into whatever is nearest your ass to get some friction. It helps, but it is not enough, and you let out a noise of disappointment as he steps to the side and grabs the cup, blowing on it and taking a few sips.

“I didn’t know vampires could…drink teas. Or wanted to frankly.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know.”

He holds the cup and tips it towards you, shaking it some. The green petals float around, and you look up at him.

“What is it?”

He doesn’t move, his hands still extended towards you. You blow at the steam and drink what’s left in the cup. You cough and frown at him, looking at the leftover greenery in the cup. It’s bitter, and as much as you want to gag, you keep it down. It tastes like something you’ve had, but you can’t put your finger on it.

“I wouldn’t say we drink tea much, but we do like to dabble in recreational drug use.”

“So, you drugged me?”

Alessandro laughs and walks over towards your room with that knowing grin still on his face.

“I wouldn’t say it like that, no. It’s just a plant we like to use to increase blood flow. I get a little nippy in the bedroom at times.”

You walk behind him and put a hand to your cheeks. They are already starting to feel warmer than they had in the kitchen.

“Well, that makes sense for your victim, but what does it do for you…”

You trail off and feel your eyes start to shut. The graze of your silk robe touching any part of your body set off alarms; your nipples feel so sensitive that you reach up, pressing your palm to one and then the other. Whimpers kept escaping your lips without meaning to. When you open your eyes, Alessandro lay in the bed in his boxers, nuzzling into sheets, his fangs hanging over his bottom lip. You can’t help but follow the trail of hair from his chest down to his boxers with your eyes.

Now, you could put your finger on it. Everyone you knew in your community had at least talked about this. Maybe couples needed the herbs to spice up their sex lives or to have more stamina for one another. That explains why any stimulation right now sends you over the edge and into flames.

“It’s a very fast-acting aphrodisiac. Come here; I want to feel you.”

Alessandro took your hand and led you to the bed, kissing up your shoulders and to your neck, starting to lick over your vein. You leaned your head to the side, moaning, your hand reaching into the front of his boxers. This time, he’s the one who jolts from your touch.

Your hand grasps his member, and you rub your thumb over the cum that was already leaking from his tip. With every swipe of your thumb, he whines in your ear and starts to grip your breasts, kneading them roughly before leaning into one and suckling in, looking up at you with his warm eyes.

You arch your back and started to pump his thick cock before his hand goes over yours again and gently grips you, making you stop.

“If you keep going, I’m going to cum.”

“So?”

Alessandro’s grip loosens, but he continues to help you, watching as the two of you stroked his cock. Although it looked like it was hot to the touch, he was still a dead man walking and maintained a cool temperature even with the assisted stimulation.

You lean down and lick the base, shaking your hips in the air to show off your body; before you can get it in your mouth, there is cum squirting over your closed eyes and down your nose. You laugh a bit but don’t feel him soften in your hand. He takes your robe off haphazardly and wipes your face with it, leaning down over you while you lay on your back.

“I’m bewitched. You bewitch me.”

Alessandro pushes your legs apart and starts to rub at your clit; you reach down and move his hand.

“I need to feel you, all of you. I want you to drink from me.”

Before you can say anything else, he’s sliding into you, his hands at your shoulders, holding you still as he plunges deep into you. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he knew how to work with what he’d been given. It could’ve been a combination of his experience and the herbs, but you’d never had someone fill you up the way he was now.

Alessandro holds up your hips for you, pulling you close so you meet his every thrust. All you have to do is sit there and take it; you grip at his hair, then stop self-consciously, your hands going to the sheets. You’d been told in the past that you pulled hair too hard, or when you gripped at your partner’s back, it would hurt them. Since then, you have always made sure to grasp the sheets instead.

Alessandro lets your hips go and hoists one of your legs up, letting his weight rest on top of you, chest to chest, while his hips work. He takes your hands from the sheets and moves them back to his hair, looking back at you panting.

“Pull it.”

“Yeah? Is that okay?”

You tangle your fingers into his curls and pull his hair, making his head snap back. He nods, moaning loudly in your ear and exposing his fangs before biting your neck. Your back arches and you begin to grind into him, your clit rubbing against his hairy pubic bone. You can’t quiet yourself if you want to. You grip his hair harder, and with a scream, you feel an orgasm come over you so hard your vision goes black.

You wake up and roll over finding Alessandro on his back, his cock soft resting on his thigh, and eyes closed. You were in one of your nightshirts, both of your dirty clothes piled in the corner.

“You’re finally awake. I cleaned you up while you were sleeping.” He opens one eye and turns toward you before rolling on his side to see you better.

“I expected you to leave. Not that I wanted you to, I guess I just thought…”

Alessandro smiles and you noticed his fangs stained red with blood, your blood. He licks his lips and presses a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I told you; you’ve bewitched me. Now you really can’t get rid of me.”

“Well, as long as we can drink that tea every now and then…I think that’s okay with me.”

You smile and bury your face in his chest.

#monster boyfriend #teratophilia writing #my writing #monster lover #vampire boyfriend #vampire x reader #vampire x human #monster boy #monster romance #monster bf #smut #female reader #fem reader

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absolutebl · 5 months

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hey, do you know of any BL-s similar to A boss and a Babe? I don't mean plot wise or setting but a bl with a similar uke (Cher). I feel like I haven't seen much or at all BL-s with an uke that's such a crackhead, so vital, positive, non dramatic, up for anything, vocal about feelings and love, the one who also kinda pursues when it's needed, that pushes boundaries etc etc

Huh, you mean like a GGG uke? (good giving game)

There are LOTS of crackheads... seek ye Japan. But that goes real fast into cringe, like Secret Crush On You.

The GGG part is where we fall down. This is a very new take on the archetype. Also non-dramatic, I mean it's a BL drama so dramatic is kinda the point.

I'll take a stab!

crackhead

vital & positive (sunshine)

pursues when it's needed (switchy)

non dramatic (good)

vocal about feelings and love (giving)

up for anything, pushes boundaries (game)

Fits all 6 criteria (but in their own countries' style):

All the Liquors (Korea)

Mr Heart (Korea)

Ocean Likes Me (Korea)

Be Loved In House I Do (Taiwan)

Love Sick (Thailand - bet you didn't see that one coming)

And now some that do their best satisfying 4 ore more of the above requirements.

Thailand

Everyone is just really dramatic in Thai BL.

Coffee Melody (sides 1,2,4,5,6)

Ghost Host, Ghost House (2,3,4,5,6)

Great Men Academy (if you count it 2,2,3,6)

Ingredients (2,3,4,5,6)

KinnPorsche (1,2,3,5,6)

Love By Chance 2 (1,2,5,6)

Love In the Air (PayuRain 1,2,5,6)

Love in Translation (2,3,5,6)

Make A Wish (1,2,3,5,6)

My School President (2,3,5,6)

My Tee (1,2,3,5,6)

Secret Crush On You (1,2,3,5,6)

Why R U? (2nd couple 1,2,3,5,6)

Taiwan

Seme/uke is always weak, queerness is more authentic so roles less prescribed and campy

DNA Says Love You (sides 1,2,3,6)

Kiseki Dear to Me (sides 1,2,3,6)

Stay By My Side (1,2,35,6)

Korea

Seme/uke is pretty weak, little to no crackhead, and everything will be more reserved and muted.

Some More (2,3,4,5,6)

The Eighth Sense (2,3,4,5,6)

Behind Cut (2,4,6)

Jun & Jun (2,4,5,6)

Long Time No See (2,3,4,5,6) but also LIES

Our Boarding House (2,3,4,6)

Oh My Assistant (1,2,3,6)

Tasty Florida (2,3,4,5,6)

The Lover (2,3,4,6)

Tinted With You (2,3,4,6)

Unintentional Love Story (2,3,4,5,6)

Why R U? (2nd couple 1,2,5,6)

Japan

But the ones it does have it REALLY leans into.

Seven Days (2,3,4,5)

If It's With You (2,3,4,5,6)

Restart After Come Back Home (2,4,5,6)

Silhouette of Your Voice (1,2,4,6)

Takara & Amagi (1,2,3,5)

My Memory is shot but???

Like Love from China might work.

Most stuff from the Philippines first some if not all.

Vietnam's My Lascivious Boss and You Are My Boy satisfy soem criteria.

Might also be worth reading

List dated Mid Dec 2023, ongoing BLs not included. If it aired after that date you should add it to the comments or something.

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englass · 1 year

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WIP DAY

Tagged by: @derelictheretic & @fadedjacket -- thank you lovelies! 💖

Tagging (although completely optional as always): @starsandskies @chyrstis @chazz-anova @words-and-seeds @weekend-writer @deputyash @deputy-rice-pudding and anyone else that wants to do this! I truly have no idea who to tag anymore on these things...

A/N: Um... hi! It’s been awhile 😅 To be honest, I have been working on stuff on-and-off. Just at my own leisurely pace. Finally feel like I have something worthwhile to share though, but we’ll see. It’s a bit longer than I’d like to post for a WIP Day, but who knows when I’ll actually get it done so 🤷‍♀️

Before we get into it, I suppose I should mention the fandom it’s for at this point? It’s FF14 -- so, uh, be aware of Shadowbringers’ spoilers for this, I guess?

- - -

Fatigue tugs at you. The familiarity of this place plucking at ancient memories, the emotions ringing on the vibration, the echoes a faint afterimage; unrefined, barely a silhouette in the dark, but there all the same. They leave you dizzy, unfocused, feeling inebriated over this queer battle of wills; the invasive merging of memories not your own but– but they… they are– were?

You climb on the bench, spitting an exhausted sigh as you settle, harshly pressing your hands into your eyes. A tremble wracks your frame, the heavy taste of Light clogging up your throat. Even the feeble defence of your hands can not hide you from the intrusive memories, outlines clearer upon the pitch backdrop. Overlapping, intertwining, converging. Are you swaying? It feels like you are swaying. The Light writhing, agitated beneath your skin. It is all starting to make you feel sick.

Swallowing down the urge to gag you cautiously manoeuvre yourself. Lay down with your arms at your side, leeching the coolness of the stone through your clammy skin. You feel so warm, so grossly uncomfortable in your own body. Like it is no longer yours, as if there is not enough room. Never have you felt so small.

At least the leaves above you are pretty, somewhat distracting in their gentle sway against a phantom wind. Glimpsing past to the murky green beyond, you trace the rays of light that filter down from the ocean’s surface. Watch with absent interest as sea-life leisurely glides above the heavens, like birds on the wind. Find yourself mentally mapping out the sky, the stars that typically populate its canvas. The next time you leave the city you should take a spare journal with you, start compiling all the constellations you come across in your travels. That way, when you return you can give them to your friends; and when you ultimately have to leave again you can all–

…

… …

You curse, aggressively shove the ball of your hands into your eyes. A weak sound cracking loose in your throat, frustrated tears burning as they escape down the side of your face.

That didn’t– that’s not your memory. It is not yours… and that hurts more than words can ever articulate.

It is not even the fact that you can’t remember them, or that they don’t truly belong to you. It’s how they make you feel that kills you.

You have always felt adrift in the world, always felt like something was missing. Only ever found in dreams and those painful moments of unwarranted nostalgia. It is why you originally set out on your travels. Vainly searching for clues in foreign tomes, collapsing ruins and distant lands. Looking for that mystical place that has ever resonated within you, the dual silhouettes that have ever compelled you back to them; that have ever urged for your morose soul to come home.

Those memories, painful as they are, they…

You scrub at your eyes. Cringing as you raise them above your head and see the liquid Light smeared across them. Shakily exhaling you drop them, uneasily wiping the oily remnants off against your attire. Try not to think too hard at the fact that you are crying Light, so contaminated that you are literally leaking the stuff. It is only because of Ryne and sheer willpower that you have yet not succumbed. Holding on because you must, because there is no one else. But…

Emet-Selch was right: you are all but a Sineater, at this point.

The temptation to surrender is there. In this hidden nook, within this skeleton of glorious Amaurot and amongst the ghosts of a resurrected memory you wonder if it would be so bad to give up. To finally rest. Or, at the least, to indulge. To not have your potential final moments be wrought with non-stop strife and conflict, but to be softened by the hollow comforts of a life never lived. Of memories never made. Of a love never shared, yet depthless and timeless; eternal.

#i love this game #can't wait for the next patch #and to get all the lynx's - woohoo! 2 down and more to get #my writing #my wip #tagged #tag game #wip day #wip game #different from my usual game/fandom of choice but i'd like to try and branch into all the stuff i enjoy #show my appreciation and love as a fellow hobbyist creative #derelictheretic #fadedjacket #thank you again for the tag lovelies!#sorry it's taken so long as always

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anonymous-dentist · 2 years

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pov: this multicolored noodle runs up to you and yells i hardly know 'er!!! and then falls over laughing. it is 9 in the morning. you are cgeorge. you are going back to sleep

Somebody help c!George he wants a nap. So does Noodle Boy.

George wakes up shortly after sunrise. He can hear the faint sound of grasshoppers through the tightly-shut windows of his bedroom, and the distant, familiar clanging of metal as someone pounds away on an anvil. Probably Sapnap. Gods know Karl doesn't have the patience to even look at an anvil, much more content to steal a sword off of someone's corpse and wave it around like a stick. Or he'd just use a stick.

George grimaces and scrubs a hand over his face. His mouth tastes like sand. His hand is freezing cold. There's a faint red mark on the back in the shape of someone else's palm, much larger than his hand, and much smoother. George knows just how smooth that hand was, and how tight it held his as its owner pulled him around his dreamscape pointing out his and Sapnap and Dream's old haunts with a gleeful, wrathful smile hidden under a painfully-familiar blank mask.

Punishment, XD had said. But both He and George know that He could never actually punish George. He's kind of a pussy, and a huge one at that.

George groans and rolls onto his side, squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to be awake right now. He was- okay, he wasn't having a very good time, actually, but at least he had someone to talk to. If he was to walk downstairs now, he would be greeted with an empty kitchen and an empty nation. Has it ever been anything different?

He can say one thing about Kinoko: the perfumed scent of dying flowers is thick enough to make him choke when he dares go outside. And he doesn't want to lose a lung, because asthma is cringe and so 2018. So he lies in bed, and he tries to fall back asleep. He can almost feel a hand in his hair and he can almost hear a voice saying "Not now" and he can almost hear a different voice saying "I'm waiting", but all of that is ridiculous. He doesn't see things. He isn't...

The door downstairs is kicked open. George groans and covers his exposed ear with a hand. Heavy footsteps up the stairs, pausing in front of George's door, then hesitantly continued past George's room to the hall closet. There's a patter of rain on the roof. Must be getting an umbrella, then.

George likes the rain. He is the only one of his friends that does. It is for that reason and that reason only that he pulls himself from his bed with shaky legs and weak arms and stumbles across the room to open the windows. Curtains first; he practically hisses as the first natural light he's seen in almost six months hits his face. It's still dark-ish out thanks to the clouds and the rain, but he can still make out a Sapnap-shaped silhouette dashing out from George's house to someplace over the horizon in the vague direction of Las Nevadas. Huh. Wonder what that's about.

Whatever. Not George's problem.

Every time he wakes up after one of his longer spells, his body is weaker than he left it. It takes a lot of energy to dream like he does, XD says, but George is pretty sure that He's full of shit. If He's anything like the guy He stole His face from, He has to be. He's annoying. George wants to stay awake, actually, now that he thinks about it. The trees outside are finishing regaining their leaves, and the flowers in the beds along the streets are in bloom. Kinoko is beautiful. Of course it is. George lives in it. Everything he touches is beautiful, humble brag.

His stomach grumbles. Right. Yuck. He prefers when he's dreaming. Then, he doesn't need to eat. Some magic bullshit, whatever. He doesn't question it. (Maybe he should.)

Is he dreaming now? He doesn't feel like it. But...

But he still stumbles downstairs to the kitchen, braced against the wall to keep himself from embarrassing himself on the way. He's cool. He's so cool, actually, fuck whoever's watching.

(Nobody is watching. He is alone, and it is eerily the same as his dreams are these days. Only here, there's no masked god passive aggressively flirting with him. George doesn't know if that's a plus or a minus.)

He grabs a loaf of bread from the basket on the counter and shoves it into his mouth as he searches the cupboards for a bottle of water. Coffee. Hell, he'll even take Karl's disgusting gross interdimensional energy drinks (what the hell is a "Monster", anyway?)

The door to the house opens again. George ignores it. It's probably Sapnap. George can handle a Sapnap Sneak Attack.

"What the... George?"

Ooooor it can be Karl. Weird. George hasn't seen Karl in... a while. How long has it been? Last he remembers, George killed him after some bullshit about time travel. Wait, no. That didn't... but did it...?

George turns around, fully expecting to see a white hoodie and-slash-or a ghost, but he stops short when he has to crane his head back to take in all three blocks of Karl Jacobs. Ah. It's one of those days, then.

George takes the bread out of his mouth and holds it awkwardly in one hand, the other bracing himself against the wooden counter.

"Karl," he coolly says. "Good morning."

It's always weird to see Karl in what George has personally decided to call Gummy Mode. Gummy Karl is stretchy. He is colorful. He is, in fact, headache inducing. He smiles down at George with eyes that literally sparkle like stars, mouth a solid void of white, and George has a headache, now. Great. Been up half an hour, already has a migraine.

"You're up!" Karl cheers.

He runs across the small kitchen in only two strides and pulls George into a tight hug. His arms wrap around George two full times before stopping. George can't breathe, but he doesn't know if it's because of the air being choked out of him or from the shock of Karl walking around outside as a bipedal noodle. He never does that. It makes him self-conscious, one of the few things to be able to do so. He likes looking as human as the rest of them. It makes him feel more welcome. George knows this. He accepts this. How could he not? Dream doesn't even have a face under his mask most days. George himself changes eye color depending on the season. Even if the most human of them is Quackity most days, it's not George's place to judge.

But here Karl is, Gummy and Noodle and Tall. Just how much has George missed?

"Hello," George says. "Hi. Put me down. Now."

Karl puts him down and steps back, arms wiggling back to a more normal proportion. His hands rest on George's shoulders.

George notices that he's still wearing both rings. Oh, thank the gods, he does not think that he could deal with a moping Karl right now.

"You've missed so much," Karl says. "Like did you know that Dream apparently escaped from prison?"

George takes in a sharp breath and lets it out very slowly, very calmly, he is very calm about this information. He knew it. Of course he knew it.

"I know," he very calmly says.

"And, uh... that's it, honestly."

That can't be it. It can't. There has to be something else that has to have happened. It's been, what, eight months since the escape? Something has to have happened.

Karl's... well, where he would have eyebrows folds together like he's furrowing eyebrows he doesn't have. Does he even know he isn't human-y?

"There was..." he mutters, deep in thought. He perks up quickly, though, and maybe that should be more concerning than it is. "Right! Bad and Tommy are apparently doing a war now. We've got a couple new people on the server, but I've only spoken with one of them, really. We had a sleepover." He gasps. "Oh my gods, we need to have a sleepover. Like, tonight. Me, you, Sap, Tina, maybe Callahan? Dunno. Haven't seen much of him recently."

George remembers Callahan's face before he entered the stronghold, more or less. It's fuzzy. It's clear. It's been a while. How long?

"Right." George absently nods. He takes a bite from his bread just as absently. "Just us. No one else?"

Why is he even asking this? Of course it's just them. Who else would come? Dream? He's probably stuck up a tree or something, the idiot. (George should go looking for him. George should not go looking for him.) Bad? He's doing a war, apparently, but when did he stop? Is this one the Egg again, still? Ugh. Sam is probably off committing more war crimes. And Quackity... well, Sapnap was going towards Las Nevadas. Maybe they made up?

Karl frowns, thinking. "Hmm, you're right. What about Foolish?"

Gods, no, he smells like old coins that had been left out in the rain. Disgusting. George says as much. Karl's face shifts colors into a sad-looking blue as his mouth flips into a cartoony pout. Whatever.

"What about Quackity?" George suggests. He vaguely registers the way Karl's hands tighten on his shoulders, but he ignores that and turns around to start digging through the cupboards again. All this talking has made him thirsty. He hasn't had a drink in months. What's it called, a White Claw? He would like one of those.

"What about him?" Karl asks, voice strained. George can see the shadow of Karl's bulbous head shake. "I don't really think that's a good idea. He's... he's dangerous."

"So am I," George mildly says. "Do we have any White Claws?"

"What the fuck? No. Not in the cupboard, idiot. Hold on."

Karl slips past George to root through the fridge. George watches him out of the corner of his eye, considering.

"Are you sure that I haven't missed anything else?" George asks.

"Nope," Karl replies, popping the 'p'. He pulls out no fewer than five jars of pickles and puts them on the counter next to George, arms extending a full block past their normal length to do so. "Mmm, you sure you want one of those this early? What about-"

"Monster?"

Karl freezes. George realizes his mistake immediately and groans.

"'Monster'?" Karl slowly asks. He slowly pulls his head out from the fridge, a wide D-shaped grin on his face. "Why, George, I hardly know 'er."

George groans again and contemplates slamming his head against the cupboard door. Gods. He wakes up to this?

"I'm going back to bed," George huffs.

He turns on his heel, bread in hand, and strides back towards the stairs. Karl laughs and hurries after him, footsteps lightening and shadow on the wall shrinking until he's approximately human-sized. George feels a warm hand grab his shoulder and weakly turn him around.

Karl has bags under his eyes. Oh. That explains it.

"Hey," Karl says. He's smiling softly. "I missed you, George."

A far cry from the idiotic time traveler George had killed. This, this is his friend, one of his best. Honestly, George is happier that Karl was the one to find him first and not Sapnap. Sapnap, despite his tough-guy exterior, has a nasty habit of playing mother hen when it comes to his loved ones. Cringe.

George rolls his eyes fondly. "Missed you, too, Karl. If you're coming with me, try to stay people-sized, alright? I don't want you breaking my bed again."

He turns around and starts up the stairs, contentedly munching on his loaf. He sends a message on his communicator to Sapnap telling him that he and Karl are going to be hanging out together alone in bed. Sapnap sends back no fewer than twelve exclamation points and a couple of angry face emoticons. Loser.

(Karl watches George go with a confused expression. he was 'people-sized', wasn't he? He looks down at his hands and sees that they're still tinted blue. Oh. Oh, dear.)

#asks!#friends tm #noodle karl #noodle karl au #he is my beloved #dsmp fic #and you can tell that the literal one lore stream i've ever seen was george's rampage in january lol

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bearpillowmonster · 3 months

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I know you see Moana 2, this year no less, but really it's not all that exciting. One of the reasons Moana was so good in the first place is because it was from Jon Musker and Ron Clements, who literally made the Disney Renaissance and Moana was their last film. Plus we had Lin Manuel Miranda basically at the top of his game because this made the most name for him, only after did he get all these other hit roles to play in the music department or even acting and well, none have hit as hard, so he's apparently not coming back.

I'm not discrediting whoever takes these people's place, I'm sure they do great work, which the director was already announced and he also did Raya which...brings me to Disney's most recent track record. They just haven't been doing so hot with good movies, I think maybe Encanto actually made a splash and everything else has been received mostly poorly. So who's to say how Moana 2 will be any different.

They also announced a series of other projects that were in the works and their release dates with Inside Out 2 and rough years for other sequels and a whole frickin Disney universe in Fortnite, you think this is a joke?

But you have to realize why they're doing this, why today just all of the sudden, I mean it's just a bit odd that- OH MY GOODNESS

They're baiting you. They're trying to cover up as much as they can saying "Look, look what we have in store this year, forget all about a few hours ago and what's to come later on." It's all so obvious, it's all so planted, even talking about it makes me cringe because it obviously worked to a degree. Don't let Disney trick you, talk about how they could very well lose this battle, give them a fight.

(It was also Disney's Quarter 1 Earnings Call but it's all so coincidentally placed, tell me it doesn't have SOMETHING to do with it. They had to have known it was coming and scheduled around it or even hastily posted the stuff that should stay under wraps)

Don't give in to the shill, resist their corporate branding. I mean how blantant can it be when they flex their companies all over Fortnite, there's literally an island with Marvel, Star Wars, Pixar, Fox, ESPN, their flipping cruise line and Disney+, that's horrifying. How corporate can you get? Even from just a design standpoint and this is coming from a Kingdom Hearts ride-or-die, they actually take care of their worlds and properties that they choose and then incorporate it into a story without trying to straight up market to you, it's that simple, KH fans know that Disney is just the side-piece to an already delicious meal. Fortnite won't be that. It will never be that. I don't care if you can access Disney+ inside a video game to watch with your friends (doesn't that go against what you cracked down on?) I don't care what maps or characters you have and it really goes to show that they don't give a flying f- anymore.

Nintendo wanted Samus in Fortnite as well as Epic Games but Nintendo wanted it exclusive to Switch (which isn't really possible given the nature of the game) but it goes to show that they're picky about what they choose to do and they can be. Back in the day, Kingdom Hearts had to fight to even get Mickey to appear and instead we got a 2 second silhouette and it was awesome. Now they're tossing him out like candy, yeah his copyright basically expired but then we have the violence factor. You shoot people...with guns...in Fortnite. You straight up murder people then dance over their corpses which would've been the pig's behind back then, every news station would be covering it saying that it's trying to corrupt children (those darn video games at it once again) and so Mickey isn't in a fighting game. But here we are. They censored Epic Mickey so that it wouldn't look too scary. But here we are. They've given up, they'll loan out to whoever offers the money because they're weak. I know it's hard but-

Get the old regime out and bring in a new brighter future, one not so corrupted by money and corporate ideals.

#fortnite #don't let them fool you #disney #gina carano #oh my goodness #moana 2 #what a coincidence

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sodrippy · 3 years

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they are. they are really just living together in their home huh. they are just cooking lunch together as a family. they are . they are.

#val watches tyk #to be specific val watches an unsubbed clip from their youtube homepage #they are. they are teaching their kid to kill a chicken for lunch.#zzs fancy blue formal outfit<33333333333 #literally so hateful that all his outfits dont even have cinched waists like come ON king take a page out of lan zhans book would you smh #so cringe to have a weak silhouette like that :/#MR lan zhans outfits ugh unparalleled the iconic use of belts honestly<3

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

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~𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 ~

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; hyunjin x fem!reader, SMUT!! childhood!bestfriends, in vino veritas, sex under influence, summer!au, uni!au, drunken confession, (not really) mutual pining, explicit language, piv, unprotected sex (once again, a bad example! don’t forget the raincap in the storm), riding, kinda vanilla sex, uuuh,,, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), cum, muffled moaning? (that is not the correct term but lets go with that)

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 2.8 k

𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 ; ye ye thank u anon!! <3

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦 ; lmao i know he has dark hair in the picture but just imagine that he’s blonde aight also damnit wtf happened to that edge of the header picture aaah,,, im no editor u guys- also once again, the fucking title has nothing to do with the story, i just felt like it

holy shit now i understand why i dont write vanilla sex or like slow stuff,,, because it pains me with cringe- or maybe i get flustered,,,

29. “Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes” ; The 1975 - If you’re too shy (Let me know)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

Hwang Hyunjin.

You liked him in every type of way. You even liked the way his name rolled of your tongue like some kind of sweet mantra. You would have confessed if only he wasn’t your childhood best friend.

“y/n! ready to parteeey?” he yelled across the crosswalk, holding up a slightly dirty tan canvas bag, the bottles of cold liquor clinking against each other as he moved, the green man lighting up on the red stoplight. His high platform sneakers moved swiftly against the white striped concrete, making his way over to you and stretching out his arms, catching you in an embrace when he finally crossed the road.

“i see you brought drinks even if it’s only a casual sleepover” you chuckled, patting him on the back as you pulled away, walking towards the direction of your house in the scorching summer evening.

“of course, who said you couldn’t have a party with two people?” he answered back, slightly embarrassed by the way the bottles hit each other, causing other pedistrians to turn their heads. You shrugged your shoulders, looking at him as you walked closeby his side, admiring his profile and the way his blonde long locks were pushed behinds his ears, exposing his cute studded earrings. He turned his head, gazing at you to which you quickly diverted your eyes towards the ground below your feet, hearing Hyunjin giggle from your antics.

“how’s your mom? she doing good?” he asked after walking a couple of meters, holding the bag in one hand and his phone in the other one.

“yeah! but why do you ask? you literally messaged her yesterday” you smiled to which Hyunjin hummed, pouting and shrugging.

“because she’s like my best friend,,, duh?” he chuckled, poking you playfully at the side of your tummy causing you to flinch away, you being rather ticklish.

“hey! you can’t just make my mom your bestie, tsk,, stealing away my mom like that” you said, laughing in between words and noticing that the two of you were soon standing infront of your house door, the kitchen and living room window radiating warm yellow light and a silhouette moving behind the dark curtains. You retreived the keys that were in the pockets of your shorts, something you threw on quickly to go meet Hyunjin even though he knew the way to your house. It was just an excuse to be with him a bit longer.

You put the keys in the lock, jumbling around as Hyunjin looked at you with glossy dark brown eyes, holding the bag with two hands in front of his knees. The door opened and the light shined on you, illuminating the front yard that was getting dark as the sun was setting. The two of you stepped in, removing your shoes and hearing Hyunjin place the bag down on the cold tile flooring moments before your mother walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn.

“Oh hello Hyunjin! How’s school?” She asked, placing 3 pieces of popcorn in her mouth and chewing, her jaw moving from side to side.

“Uni is going great, stressful but y/n helps me,,, kinda” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head and looking down at the ground, you playfully hitting him on his upper arm. Your mom smiled at the two of you.

“Don’t stay up too late!” she yelled as she made her way to the living room where your dad was lounging on the sofa with a cold beer in his hands, watching a game of football.

“We won’t mom!” you yelled back, grabbing Hyunjin’s bag and waving your hand, signaling for him to follow you to your bedroom. He tiptoed carefully, not wanting to knock something down even though he’s slept over at yours well over a thousand times since your early childhood but still, it was in Hyunjin’s nature to be gentle and timid at first glance, another reason as to why you liked him so much.

Your bedroom was nothing out of the ordinary. White walls filled with various trinkets, family photos decorating them. Your bed was big enough to fit two but you had a sleeping bag in the corner of the room from just how often Hyunjin would crash at your place. There was not much more besides a cluttered desk, your single bed and a carpet along with a white drawer and a mirror. You plopped down on the bed, feeling the soft material against your exposed calfs. Hyunjin knew what to do, grabbing and unfolding the sleeping bag before emptying the contents of his beige bag, multiple bottles of beer and cider along with a small bottle of pure vodka.

“Why the fuck did you bring vodka? You know my parents are gonna kill me if they find this in my room” you sneered, rolling your eyes at the boy that was sitting on the bedroom floor, mischievously looking up at you.

“y/n you’re in uni, what are they gonna do? ground you?” you shook your head.

“Yeah? or kick me out of the house” you persisted, tilting your head as Hyunjin looked around the room in search for a bottle opener.

“Says the girl that puked behind a slide” he laughed to which you kicked him, causing him to fall over and you getting the final laugh.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks and a bottle opener since you’re too weak to open them” you tsked, heading towards the door and turning the doorknob.

“ppft,,, too weak” you heard Hyunjin complain as you exited the room, small steps making their way to the kitchen. You flipped the light switch, the grey lamp hanging from the ceiling, you witnessing the messy dishes from dinner earlier. You opened the dark brown cabinet where you usually stored your snacks, grabbing two packets of crisps and rummaging through the smaller cabinet that was home for the multitude of kitchen supplies your dad and mom like to collect. You found one, decorated with some picture of a sea, probably from one of dads business trips you thought, closing the cabinets and turning off the light, stepping back to your bedroom.

“Here” you said, throwing the metal opener towards the blonde boy that was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, lying sprawled out on the carpet. Hyunjin dramatically clutched his stomach, acting as if he’s been hit with a boulder to which you scoffed, sitting down next to him on the floor and opening the first bag of crisps and being once again disappointed by the air to chip ratio.

Hyunjin opened two bottles of beer, handing one over to you which you happily received, putting the slightly cold edge against your hot lips and drinking the bitter liquid, feeling it burn a bit in your throat but soothe it in this summers heat. Your face contorted into disgust, looking on the rather dodgy blue lable that was peeling a bit on the edges. You looked over to Hyunjin that was making a similar expression to yours, his nose sqrunching in that cute manner it always did.

“aren’t we both like,,, too easily influenced?” he said quietly as you stood up, retrieving your computer to put on a movie. You nodded, giggling when you sat back down and placed the computer on the floor, typing something on your computer and pointing towards the screen.

“this one or,,,, this one?” you said to which Hyunjin pointed at the latter, knowing he would pick the animated movie, him being childish as he is.

An hour passed and at this point the two of you were tipsy, multiple bottles making their presence known by standing beside you, all emptied to the last drop. The alcohol was flushing Hyunjin’s cheeks, tinging them with a light red along with the tips of his ears, your hearts thumping from how dangerously close his hand was to yours. You were starting to get tired, probably drowsy from the alcohol you thought as you layed down to which Hyunjin reacted, patting his lap.

“Put your head here, why put it on the floor?” he chuckled, his words slurring slightly. You froze, comtemplating on whether or not you should do it or if your heart could even manage being in contact with him. You cleared your throat, trying to get back to your senses. He was your childhood best friend for fuck sake. Shyly you put your head on his thigh, still watching the movie and trying to focus on what was happening on the screen but being completely lost in your own lewd thoughts, wondering how his soft lips would feel brushing up against yours, ctaching you in a hasty kiss. You sighed as the end credits rolled, seeing Hyunjin’s angular face reflecting on the screen and his gaze catching yours on the reflective monitor. Both of you burst out in laughter, the substances intoxicaing you into a laughing fit. You sat up again, pushing him by the shoulder and causing him to fall over with his arms stretched out to the sides, you falling closely to him and using his forearm as a headrest.

“y/n, have you ever liked me?”

You gulped. Was it that apparent? You shook your head, mumbling a quiet “no” to which Hyunjin giggled, his chest heaving up and down. He messed with his blonde hair, pushing it back and furrowing his eyesbrows before relaxing his facial features, closing his eyes softly.

“i like you but maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes”

You choked on your own spit, sitting up and patting yourself on the chest. It was unlike Hyunjin to speak this bluntly, especially about such suggesstive topics. He laughed at your reaction, acting as if he hadn’t just made you choke with only his words. After the initial shock set in you decided to play smart, if he was being oblivious so would you. You looked back at the blonde boy that still had his eyes closed, smirking and with a tone interlaced with pure erotic connotations you said;

“yeah? and if I did take off my clothes, what would you do?” you giggled back at him, feeling a warm flash of heat zap through your body and ultimately landing in your dripping core. Hyunjin’s eyes sprung open, the corners of his mouth curling upwards into a exuberant smirk. A million thoughts ran through Hyunjin’s mind. Should he continue the little game he had started or end it all now in order to save your friendship? But maybe ruining your friendship was exactly what he needed or more like what you needed.

The tall boy sat up, pulling you by your wrist and quickly pursing his cherry red lips, clashing them against the surface of your gently chapped pout. You thought you melted right then and there, taking in the scent of the boy you never invisioned yourself kissing but here you were, your lips pressed up against his. He grabbed your hand, encasing yours in his and feeling the warmth radiating from your nervous state. With a slight tilt of the head, Hyunjin could reach deeper inside your mouth, tracing his tongue over yours and pursing his lips causing a smooching sound to escape. Your felt his hot breath stroking your heated cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“a-are you ok, y/n? I’m s-sorry!” he said, pulling away and hiccuping after finishing his sentence. You shook your head, giggling which caught Hyunjin by surprise. You were ecstatic.

“please kiss me Hyunjin, i’ve been wanting you so bad” you mumbled, Hyunjin’s jaw clenching in confusion.

“me? i want you!” he said, laughing at your seriousness causing you to crack a smile, pushing him down on the floor and slamming the computer shut, the background track of the movie disappering. Now only the sound of the loud TV downstairs was heard along with your lips pecking Hyunjin’s. You hovered above the boy, your hands on either side of him. You felt your wet cunt aching for him, you wanted him inside of you and it seemed like you weren’t the only excited one, Hyunjin’s bulge growing bigger with every caress of his body. Your hands snaked down to the zipper of his ripped jeans, with a steady hand unzipping and unbuttoning, wanting to free him from his clothed prison that was keeping you from him.

“Eager or something?” Hyunjin tsked, trailing kisses along your jawline and neck. You didn’t answer his stupid question. Of course you were eager, this was what you had dreamed of for years. This was what played out in every single wet dream you ever had. This was what occupied your mind when nothing else mattered. It was him. Hwang Hyunjin.

Hyunjin bucked his hips upwards, granting you the honor to pull down his pants and boxers in a brisk motion which you happily took. His cock sprung free, leaking with precum embarrassingly enough causing you to snicker. Could the sight of his best friend make him this horny? You quickly moved aside from Hyunjin’s figure in order to free yourself from your shorts and white lace panties. The blonde boy was in a dilemma. He liked you,,, a lot, but you were his best friend. Was it worth risking a friendship for sex and maybe even something else?

Your answer was yes. Yes if it was Hyunjin.

You straddled Hyunjin’s thigh, balancing on your knees and placing your hands firmly on his hard abdomen, positioning your hungry hole above his dick, the slit being decorated with a shining pearl of precum. Hyunjin’s eyes were closed in anticipation, his hands trying to grab onto the carpet on the floor, clawing at the material.

“you good? ready?” you asked in worry, thinking maybe he was uncomfortable.

Hyunjin shook his head in agreement. He was nervous. If he opened his eyes he could cum by just the lewd sight of your pussy about to swallow his dick whole. He was adorable being this shy, always acting innocent but not really living up to that standard, at least not in this moment. You slowly sink down on his erect cock, Hyunjin letting out a hiss at the same time you gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth in order to not be too loud. The boy was stretching you out to the brink of completion, it was impossible to bottom out from the sheer size of his throbbing cock. Hyunjin turned his head side to side, his cheek coming in contact with the cold floor. He looked in pain, his forehead furrowing but he reassured you that it felt good, maybe even too good. Your gently bounced up and down his cock, with each thrust earning another groan from the panting boy. Seeing him lost in pleasure made your core burn with arousal, needing to chase your impending orgasm. The boy slowly opened his eyes, peeking at you rocking backwards and forwards on his cock, biting your lip and tracing your hands along his abdomen underneath his shirt.

“d-does it feel good?” he asked in a dazed voice, striking a half smile as he moved his hands to your waist, simply resting them there. You nodded, lulling your head backwards, your tits bouncing underneath the fabric of your oversized t-shirt, hardened nipples poking through. Hyunjin drooled at the sight and the sensations. He had longed for this just as much as you had. Hyunjin’s hands trailed up your shirt, wrapping his hands around your boobs and harshly kneading them, the pads of his thumb gliding over your nipples. You shuddered, clenching around his cock, Hyunjin’s eyes shut tightly and his toes curling from the sensation of balancing on a pinnacle, tumbling into his orgasm. He couldn’t control his words, whispering your name out like a mantra along with the words “i love you”. Those were words you didn’t hear him say often.

The feeling of his hot cum oozing between your velvety walls got you holding onto Hyunjin’s shirt for life, his hand gently placed over your parted lips that continusly spilled with whimpers and pleas. You looked at Hyunjin with lost eyes, your pace slowling down as you rode out your orgasm, thighs shaking involuntarily, giving up beneath you. Hyunjin lifted slightly by your hips, you pulling off him and with a thud rolled over on your back, laying next to him on the floor. The room filled with heavy breathing, sweaty bodies trying to find composure after the rather interesting orgasm. All your thoughts were in once big mush, hindering you from forming a sentence.

“What now?” Hyunjin said in a sleepy manner, rolling over to his side and hugging you awkwardly. You didn’t know. All you knew that you wanted him. You were hoping he would become yours. More than once.

434 notes · View notes

inkedtae · 3 years

Text

orange tree ⇾ knj, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ares!namjoon x mortal!reader (f.) x apollo!taehyung

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ greek god au, established relationship (w/namjoon), smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ he built you a pathronon but you would like to expand its patrons… at least just for the evening.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7.4k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!namjoon, tattooed!namjoon, silver mullet!namjoon, dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, sub!reader, a lil bratty!reader, rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, angry sex, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), humilition kink, size kink, pain kink, jealousy, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration (in one hole), exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, choking, manhandling, body worshipping, pussy worshipping, basically reader worshipping, pussy slapping, cum eating, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, spit play, breath play, breast play, pretty much an ungodly amount of filth :)))

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m a hoe :))

❧ banner by ⇾ @kimtaehyunq (thank you so much friend~)

❧ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk and @uhgood-dooghu (a million thanks to these cuties~)

❧ le playlist

⟶ commission for @jamaisjoons through ChangesWithLuv, supporting BLM

Beyond the holy village of Barthes, within a meadow of sun dropped marigolds, you lounge topless underneath an orange tree. Cool winds cut the late summer heat. The breeze hardens your nipples and prickles your exposed skin with goosebumps. Hair tousled, you bite into another orange slice. He did not care for citrus, until he tasted your lips. Then, he planted you an orange tree. He promised you good fortune and a long life.

“You will want for nothing,” he told you. “Just, behave.”

Behave. A word he’d used often with you. Jaw tense, he’d hiss the warning while fondling your breasts or cupping your sex. When he is furious, he is boundless. He fucks like a titan, remnants of a gracious god completely withering away. Tight grips, rough pounds, and seething threats that promise such painful pleasure, Kim Namjoon is a red hot planet of sexual destruction. So angry, so lustful, he serves you a cockful of discipline and then some. You are helpless. To his wrath, you are subjected. But, you don’t mind. The truth of the matter is, your body is always alive when buried under his.

“You’re a minx,” a deep voice states behind you.

You sit up, fruit juice trailing down your arm. Lips in a pout, you gaze up at the tall man behind you. Blonde hair, symmetrical face, sharp collarbone, broad chest and - he smirks - and, oh so sinister. How could a delicate smile be so devilishly sincere? And he brands you a minx… what does this handsome man know of you? How long has he been watching? Swallowing your bite thickly, you try and fail to fathom his beauty.

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and circles around you. His eyes dance around the thin, red blanket, the array of fruits, and braided loaves by the wicker basket before trailing up your exposed legs. A shiver snakes around your curves. The way his eyes devour you makes you think he did not stumble upon this hideaway accidentally. Namjoon took extensive measures to ensure no one would. No, this man knows. He must. Why else would he not question your presence alone under the only tree? He accepts it, expects it.

Pushing your sticky arms around your breast, you attempt to somewhat conceal yourself and ask, “Are you a traveller?”

He shakes his head. The wind plays with his hair the moment the sun emerges behind heavy clouds. Its natural glow lights up his figure, in all its holy glory. Well-toned, pierceless, inkless, chiseled features are all too accurate to be human. He is pure. There is very little scarring on his skin as well. He looks down right angelic, prophetic, utterly godly.

Has Namjoon really entertained your fantasies? You first made the suggestion off hand, completely innocent in your phrasing, until his face fell. Stone fierce gaze slicing through your soul, you couldn’t help but describe an ocean’s worth of desires involving more than one man by your side. You were fucked to tears against the tree until it’s branches were bare and the ground was covered in ripe fruit and loose leaves. You thought that would be the end of it. But now, as you carefully stare at the god while he shamelessly sips on your near nakedness, you wonder just how wrong you might have been.

“Have you come to watch?”

“To worship.”

Your arousal slicks your thighs. Pressing your legs together, you suppress the giddy shivers that caress your spine. Though excited, you really can’t believe Namjoon did it. It was a joke but, scanning the sun god’s frame once more, you’re glad he didn’t take it that way. Face flushed, you lie back in your previous position. On your side, breasts on full display, you toss your hair aside. As your lips part to question the details of his intentions, you catch a familiar silhouette by the sea, in the distance. Flickering your gaze between the two men, you wonder if this new god was sent to test your loyalty or limits? The figure nods. You smile.

Attention returning to the golden god, you ask, “Apollo, is it?”

“Taehyung,” he corrects.

“Is that the name you prefer I scream?”

He pauses. Those mismatched eyes widen at your intrepidity. Dazed in confusion, he scans your frame once again, as if reprocessing your presence. He’s underestimated your wits, you realize, but the newfound understanding in his eyes reassures you that it won’t happen again. Good. He’s a quick learner.

Quirking a brow at the blanket beneath you, he asks, “May I?”

You nod once. He licks his lips twice, bites on the bottom one, then seats himself beside you. On his side, bare chest on display, he takes in the scenery from this new angle. Flowers bloom under a peachy dawn, and the vast fields of greenery wither to sandy shores where the sea waves as a way of greeting. His cocky stare lingers on your boyfriend before settling back to your little shrine underneath the orange tree. It’s a parthenon all on its own, with you as the center of its divinity. This detail seems to intrigue him more than it should, but you assume it might also have something to do with being watched.

Taking his hand in yours, you feel the dimming warmth of the setting sun. Who’s manning the chariot, you wonder, and would he be willing to let you ride it? Your bones tremble beneath your flesh at the impression of a distant growl. Oh, right. You almost forgot Ares can read your mind. Being something of a soulmate, he’s connected to you in ways other gods are not. Another growl slices through your thoughts. Jealousy sounds so good on him. Hearing his frustrations, knowing he’s enjoying the way you indulge, flusters the anxious bundle of nerves at your core.

Taehyung chuckles. Inches away now, his hot breath fans over your cheek. Fingers trailing up from your hand, along your arm then to your neck, he wraps his hand around your throat. He presses his thumb in the divet just under your chin, teasing a choke but never actually going through with it. You wonder what Namjoon must be hissing by the sea. What kind of curses is he throwing? Just picturing his furious eyes and cliffed jaw tickles the pit of your stomach.

“You’re precious,” Taehyung whispers, lips pressed against your chin. “I understand why he hides you from us.”

Us? Olympus knows of your blasphemous citrus temple? Usually, this kind of revelation would grant you a lightning bolt to the heart and an eternity in Tartarus. Only this wakes something different in Taehyung. His breath shallows, erection pokes at your thigh. He’s aroused by the idea of worshipping someone as powerless as a mortal. Or perhaps, you wonder as Taehyung nibbles on your skin, he simply adores displaying his power. Either or, you decide to make the most of what your Ares has granted you. Gaze finding his broad frame again, you let out an exaggerated gasp.

Namjoon flinches. However, it isn’t until you press your body against Taehyung’s that he cringes. He shifts his weight, fist clenched by his sides and you swear you can see steam hovering over his head. Namjoon is livid. But, Taehyung is oblivious. Too consumed by your pleasure, he tightens his grip on your throat and trails his open-mouthed kisses down to your breasts. Nipple between his teeth, Taehyung groans in hunger. Tongue teasing, he licks to play, not to soothe any of the stings. Your toes and legs hook around his waist. Hips rolling, you tease a preview of what you have in mind.

Taehyung shifts half an inch away though. You know it’s not because he didn’t enjoy the gesture, the throb against your hip reassuring you just how much he would really enjoy it. It still hurts your pride, however. Twinges of humiliation taint your soft features. He offers half a smirk as a means of comfort.

“He told me you’ve got quite a mouth.”

Is that an excuse or explanation? In both cases, it’s weak. He traces your face, fingertips so soft you almost forget the indirect rejection. Charming, his tiger starved gaze reflects hints of amusement. You’re easy prey, a fact that crumbles your courage. He is not here to coddle your pride, to serve the goddess of this naturous parthenon, but rather to obliviate it. A pitiful pile of pleasure is all he wishes to make of you. Though, now you wonder, is he doing this because he wants to, or because he’s ordered to?

Eyes darting between Apollo and Ares, you swallow thickly. The wondrous glow in Taehyung’s gaze makes you pause. Perhaps you’ve been too hasty. Perhaps they were both counting on that. The humiliation returns ten fold and prickles your skin upon realizing how careless you have been. Too quick to show your keen interest in devouring a different dose of daylight, you did not make Taehyung work as hard as he should’ve. And knowing that must have been what Namjoon was expecting only festers your heart with anger. This isn’t an opportunity to indulge, you conclude, but to reprimand. The both of them want to sip on your submission. The role of a meek mortal amuses them more than it should. It turns you on more than it should. So, you pull away more than you should.

Laying back on your elbows, you redirect your gaze to the sky. You can feel both pairs of eyes studying you. Taehyung props himself up on his forearm and looks over at your suddenly calmed features. It’s almost as if you’ve never exchanged a word at all.

“Funny,” you restart, all cards hidden this time. “He never mentioned you.”

Angry, confused, perhaps both, Taehyung stares. He blink, blink, blinks before he fully registers what’s been said. You can feel Namjoon’s delight though. The pride he has in the way you sassed a rival resonates deep in your core.

As you shimmy out of your dress, Taehyung finally scoffs a chuckle. You attempt to ignore the way it lights your soul with desire and focus on Namjoon’s silhouette. He looks closer, lurking by the tall grass, though still near the sand. Fully naked, you try to school your features and pretend you don’t notice the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches while Taehyung’s falls slack. Your hands rests on Taehyung’s bare thigh long enough to make him shudder and your boyfriend growl. It’s almost all too easy to push Namjoon’s buttons. He hates it when you do something simply because you can.

“You abuse your power,” he always tells you.

And, with a smile, you always reply, “I don’t abuse anything, Joonie. You just can’t refuse it.”

Taehyung seems to prove this statement now, falling prey to the way you toy with him. Half focused, you’re paying enough attention to him to feel his frustration. Displeased with the way you have your eyes glued on the god of war, Taehyung huffs and inches closer.

“Do I need to plant you an orange tree?” he teases. Well, he attempts to anyways. The resentment in his tone seeps through instead.

You bite back a smirk. “You can try.”

His eyes flash with annoyance. Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Taehyung raises a brow. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you can safely assume he’s highly debating it. His eyes shift around the tree the two of you currently lounge under. Sparing you a glance, he scoffs. Perhaps he doesn’t think it’s worth it, you wonder. It’s no matter to you. All it really means is more time spent frustrating him, teasing him beyond-

The ground crackles, splitting open with the presence of new roots. Bare branches rise and twist around the orange tree trunk. The deep green leaves sprout. Then, ripe figs bloom. They dangle closer to you than the oranges do. You don’t have much time to really admire them, however, as a loud rumble rattles your bones. The sound is enough to snap your fearful eyes to the seashore. Namjoon is gone.

Shit. Have you taken this too far? Namjoon did plant this tree for you. He had never so much so as looked at another mortal. His allegiance, devotion, and adoration has been declared to you on more than one occasion. You are all he ever sees, thinks, breathes. Swallowing thickly, you mentally call him back. It’s all in good fun, you try to convince him. A quiet hum from the other side of the line is enough to soothe your anxiety. You lean back into the other god.

Taehyung couldn’t be less concerned. Instead of searching for Namjoon, as you seem to be interested in doing, he latches his lips onto your shoulder, a single hand cupping your breast. You gasp. Taking this as an encouragement to continue, Taehyung trails a wet arrangement of open mouthed kisses along your neck. Lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he hisses, “Quite a fucking mouth, indeed.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your breast and continues, “Might need some good dick to keep it in check.”

The thought is appealing. So much so, that you cannot help the way your eyes widen and glisten with interest. Having his cock shoved down your throat while he growls at the sheer sight of it alone has compelled your undivided attention. But, Namjoon’s rage still scratches at your bones, warning you against playing too much.

You scoff. “Who says I don’t already have that?”

Taehyung does not reply. Not a smirk graces his lips nor breath escapes him. He simply leans in for a kiss. You find yourself giving in all too quickly. He slides his hand down to cup the space between your thighs and you cannot find it within you to push it away. In fact, you spread your legs further apart and tell yourself it’s reactive. The jolt of your hips up into his hand though… that might’ve been calculative.

But the simple gesture of rolling your hips into his palm has shown all your cards once more. He reclaims the power, pulling away from the kiss and your sex. He clutches onto your hair, a deadpan expression the only means of emotion now. In huffing silence, he yanks on your hair, guiding your head down to his crotch. You hiss, the gesture proving more pleasurable than painful as you feel a fresh rush of your wetness further stain your legs.

His silk skirt, pinned up and hanging from his hip by an arrowed, gold pin, lies in a disarried pile beside him. His huge cock is all that stands before you. He’s thicker than Namjoon, but, even with its impressive length, it does not compare to your boyfriend’s size. Taehyung is massive, but Namjoon is monstrous.

Your mouth still salivates all the same. Tip oozing precum, Taehyung shoves your face against his balls. His thick scent rolls your tongue out. Heavy in lust, he mostly smells of lemons and cream. You’ve always adored citrus… Namjoon knows this well. And though you expected to feel your boyfriend’s anger at this revelation, all you feel on the other side is emptiness. You wonder where he’s gone.

Or, at least you attempt to wonder. The moment you feel the impression of Taehyung’s weighty balls against your lips, all your thoughts dissipate. You swirl your tongue around each one before dropping them in your mouth. Suckling, drool dripping, your enthusiasm cannot be hidden any longer. Moaning maniactically, your eyes roll back.

Taehyung gasps and hisses. The peak of his groans, however, surfaces when you wrap a hand around his thick cock. You were ready to start pumping until you realized a single hand barely even covers half of him. Both hands wrapped around his length now, you twist and drag them up and down. Every so often, you tighten your grip a bit and let out a throaty moan. He shudders each time, legs trembling from your attention.

On your knees, with your ass up high for any onlookers to easily see, the wind lashes at your heat. You squeal, then pull his balls out of your mouth to spit on his cock. The thick wad makes it easier to pump him. Brows furrowed, he runs a hand through his golden hair and shakily sighs… then his sight sets on something behind you. He smirks, white canines a dangerous nod to his power.

A familiar hand rests on the small of your back, the other landing a harsh smack on your ass. You scream and fall forward onto Taehyung, face fully buried in his cock now. He laughs heartily, running a hand through your hair as a weak excuse for comfort.

The hand behind you does not stop after one smack. It goes in for second, then third, and before you know it, your ass is burning with stings and pussy wetter than the ocean behind you. The pain ignites something viciously erotic, cradling your heart enough to make you whimper. It’s the idea of being used, you assume, and it only makes you perk your ass up higher.

His raspy scoff makes you shiver, spine tingling with excitement. He gropes onto your ass and grunts, “Don’t try to be a good girl now.”

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Namjoon uses this harsh grip to shove your face further against Taehyung’s crotch. He pulls back and tries again, making sure your mouth engulfs his friend’s cock this time.

“You want to suck his cock, huh? Then fucking suck, you little slut,” he growls.

Your face flames with embarrassment. You can’t even bring yourself to meet Taehyung’s gaze. He merely laughs through a moan, leaning back on his hands as he watches you choke on his cock. You really can’t take him all in one go; you haven’t even found a way to take Namjoon in a single motion. But, your boyfriend couldn’t care less. He pushes your head down and keeps it there. Your jaw aches, throat burns, contracting around Taehyung’s thickness enough to make him throw his head back. Tears spill and spill and you foolishly think this will be the height of his punishment.

Then, in he goes.

“Such a wet little bitch,” Namjoon hisses as he pushes his cock into your pussy.

You let out a strangled whine against Taehyung, much to his pleasure, and attempt to spread your legs, but Namjoon keeps them in place. They’re barely a hip’s length apart. The pain prickles against your pussy’s wall, making you gag a sob around Taehyung’s cock. The pressure of Namjoon’s huge dick behind you and the weight of Taehyung’s in your mouth trembles your posture. You shake under the intimidation and it doesn’t help at all that Taehyung’s dick is suffocating you.

Namjoon pulls your head up the moment he fully enters. Gasping, you try to catch your breath. You inhale deeply each time, worried Namjoon will shove you back down on Taehyung’s cock without warning. Instead, he gives you a quick moment to breathe, ramming in and out of you like he’s riding a stallion.

Taehyung, eyes half-lidded, admires the way you drool and babble all over yourself. You heave, holding his gaze long enough to realize he’s mocking you, tongue out and breathes exasperated. Then he laughs and Namjoon laughs, and your pride shrivels up. Dignity on the brink of shattering, you try to avoid his gaze, biting your lip to swallow your moans as Namjoon works his way in and out of you.

But Taehyung will not have any of that. He nudges your wet chin back to him and teasingly pouts. “Is baby embarrassed?” he asks, tone more menacing than that taunting gaze of his. You glare at him, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Cupping your chin, Taehyung squeezes your cheeks to pucker your lips. “Answer me,” he seethes.

Parting your lips, you’re about to confirm his statement when Namjoon grunts behind you. He thrusts his hips particularly harder this time and your balance crumbles. You fall over Taehyung. He catches you with his lips, his hand trailing from your face to your neck and gripping onto it like he owns it.

Namjoon is displeased. With a growl, he snaps his hips up, balls shoving their way in you too. Your teeth knock with Taehyung, causing him to grunt and glare at the god behind you. You watch him stare your boyfriend down while tightening his grip on your neck. He goes to say something, a curse judging by the placement of his lips in his teeth, but Namjoon pulls you out of his grasp before Taehyung can even get a syllable out.

Replacing Taehyung’s hand with his own on your neck, Namjoon pulls you back up against his chest. His other hand wraps around your waist. Lips to the shell of your ear, he hammers into you and whispers, “Don’t go forgetting who you belong to.”

You hold Taehyung’s hard stare. His face reddens, cheeks drawn into his mouth as he glares. You whimper, pouting and nodding to Namjoon, but neither one of them seems convinced. Taehyung’s brows raise as if you’ve given him some sort of sign, and Namjoon’s hissing warnings against getting carried away.

“Better not say his name.”

Out of sheer spite, you part your lips to utter the other’s name. However, the word is consequently pounded right out of your mind the moment it emerges. Neither god gives you another moment to develop a reply at all as they battle for your attention. A part of you wishes that each of them simply takes turns, but you already know how useless that would be. Neither one of them will be willing to wait and watch. Namjoon already slipped himself in, the act of watching being too distant for him.

And it seems to be the same for Taehyung as well. He can’t sit still, can’t just watch you get ravished by someone else. You catch the annoyed twinkle in his eye darkening every time Namjoon makes you scream. Swallowing thickly, Taehyung shifts so that he’s lying by your knees and pulls the plump, upper flesh of your pussy apart. Then, smirking, he dips his head in and enthusiastically sucks on your clit. Teeth grazing, he bites and nibbles, drawing the most high-pitched squeals out of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face further against your pussy.

Namjoon huffs a groan against your cheek. Pounding in full force, he loosens his grip on you a bit. Your hips jolt forward, Taehyung’s teeth clamping down on your clit. You cry out, both hands back over Namjoon’s arm. The god by your knees did not escape unscathed either, his lips slightly bruised from the hit. He drags his gaze up to you, glare deadly.

Guts twisting in ecstasy and guilt, you whimper and shake your head. “Sorr-”

Your apology clinches in your throat as Namjoon tightens his grip on it. “Shut the fuck up, you filthy whore,” he grunts into your hair.

Taehyung catches onto Namjoon’s sly gesture quickly, hungry eyes aflame for vengeance. “Keep her still, or I’ll fuck her into the ground.” His deep voice tickles the swirling pit of your stomach. So rich and raspy, his dulcet voice guides you closer to your orgasm than you’d be brave enough to admit.

Subsequently, Taehyung relatches his lips to your clit. Namjoon swallows enough of his pride not to shake him off again. And you shudder as high doses of ecstasy creep over your nerves. It pumps your veins with excitement, anticipation and sheer joy. Even when they’ve mocked you and used you as a pocket pussy- a set of holes, you cannot deny how horny it makes you for them.

Namjoon huffs your name in your ear, whispering about your tightness, about how he knows how fucking close you are. “Baby is gonna cream,” he mockingly coos. “Do you want him to taste you? Are you that much of a slut, you want another man to taste you? He’ll get addicted.” Namjoon grunts thrice before continuing, “But you already know that, right? You want him addicted. You want him to worship that little cunt of yours, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck yes!” you screech. Whether it is in reply to his questions or simply a reaction to the dual assault of your pussy, you’re not quite certain. But, Namjoon is. And he’s irate. Shaking with anger, his pounds reach a pace unknown to gods, even Taehyung raises an impressed brow.

Your next intake of air cinches somewhere in your throat. You try to scream, to cry, to make some sort of sound as your cum rushes out of you. Gushing, slouching, your pussy makes enough noise that your mouth doesn’t need to. Both men fall victim to it - to you - anyway. Squirming in Namjoon’s hold, there’s very little you can do. Your mind is foggy, vision blurry, but it doesn’t stop either of them. A distant clash of throaty moans fill the fields, though you can’t register much of that either. Your ears are ringing too much to hear more than your own heartbeat struggling to keep up.

Taehyung growls, his hands constantly knocking against Namjoon’s. Your dazed gaze falls to meet his. Eyes blazed with sexual frustration, he claws at your hips and pulls you forward against him. Namjoon, however, keeps a strong hold on your waist. Your torso’s his for the taking. He grabs hold of your chin and whips your head back to him.

“You look at me when you cum,” he seethes. “Or you won’t cum at all next time.”

Half a breath escapes you in response, but it seems to be half a breath too late. Namjoon emits a raspy groan so sinister it would be a crime to simply call it a growl. He roars. You feel the vibrations of the sound in your spine, another dose of your cum rushing through you. Then, all too quickly, he lets go of you. It takes his hands off your chest for you to realize your legs gave out long ago. You instantly fall to your knees. Taehyung is quick to catch you in his arms. Lips inches apart, Taehyung looks ready to share some of his oxygen with you when Namjoon orders, “Turn her around.”

Taehyung glares over your head. Gulping, his lips twitch in a fake smile as he lifts you. You, however, cannot let him give in that easily. Besides, nothing is better than angering the god of war. His stubborn, victory-bound heart will not rest until you submit to him over Taehyung. And, throwing you into the enemy’s arms does not seem like he’s trying hard enough to win, to discipline you. So, after Taehyung turns you around in his lap, you press a passionate kiss upon his lips, slipping your tongue in for good measure. Taehyung snakes his hand between your legs too, fingers playing all too much for you to stay silent. Between kisses, you sneak a glance at Namjoon, finding Taehyung already doing the same thing.

Towering over you, skin inked, nipples pierced, muscles flexed and slick with sweat, Namjoon huffs. His jaw is locked, a gesture you’ve learned isn’t at all meant to be comforting. With his cheeks sucked in and a brow quirked, Namjoon jerks himself off to the sight of you so openly defiant.

“Open your dirty mouth,” Namjoon orders through gritted teeth. “I need to clean it out.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, his fingers ceasing their movements as he cups your sex instead. “So dramatic,” he teases, earning a cold stare from Namjoon.

You resist the urge to giggle, having to choose your battles carefully. Taehyung has already gotten too much attention anyways, you decide. Pushing his hand away from your pussy, you ignore the wet kisses Taehyung peppers upon the nape of your neck and gaze up at Namjoon with your mouth open.

He bites his lip to keep from smirking. And, with a loud, chest drawn groan, he releases his load all over your chin and breasts. The warmth of his cum sets your skin ablaze. It feels just as thick as it tastes. Licking around your face, you try to swallow whatever you can get. A little smile breaks out on Namjoon’s face, swelling your heart with pride.

However, Taehyung isn’t as moved by the gesture as you are. He tangles a hand in your hair and pulls your head back against his shoulder. “That’s enough of that,” he breathes over your face. Then he wipes the rest of Namjoon’s cum off with the pad of his thumb and pecks your lips. He rubs the cum into your nipples, teasing them between his thumb and forefinger.

You almost forget Namjoon's presence. That is, until he grabs hold of your ankles and yanks you right out of Taehyung’s hold. With a loud gasp, you’re on your back, legs spread and Namjoon at the center. He gazes lazily down at you, like handling your body is a casual passtime. There is something glittering within that suspicious ease, however. Something cocky, angry, and terrifying. Hand around your neck, Namjoon jerks you off the floor and shoves you back into Taehyung’s arms.

The golden god catches you with a grunt. He draws his brows together in confusion, silently questioning Namjoon. He parts his lips, but your boyfriend huffs, cutting him off. Namjoon grabs you by your bicep and turns you around to face Taehyung.

After making sure your legs are spread and straddling the other god’s waist, Namjoon seethes, “The simplest instructions.” His warm tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. Between nibbles he continues, “You can’t even follow the simplest instructions. That can’t be easily forgiven anymore, baby.”

You’re not quite sure what he means, considering he’s never punished you in this position before. Usually, being on top is a reward. He grants you a sliver of control, consequence free, when you’ve been well-behaved. This level of generosity is a rarity. However, as Namjoon pushes you further into Taehyung, with you wrapped around his torso, you begin to wonder what kind of punishment you’re in for, and which one of them is administering it.

Of course, these thoughts are fleeting as Taehyung’s fat cock prods around your pulsing hole. Sparks of bliss set to flames the nerves bunching around your clit. You shudder each time he brushes his tip against it. Petting your hair back just to grab it, Taehyung breathes a chuckle into the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks on your delicate skin like you belong to him. And for a split second, you almost think you do. The sweet, wet kisses and the way he eases into you only just has you forgetting that Namjoon is standing over you, watching as another god worships.

With a smack, your memories jolt back. The sting of both cheeks makes you all too aware of his presence now. You cry out, falling over Taehyung clumsily. The spank hit so hard, so fast that it even has Namjoon hissing from the impact. Even still, he smacks you again and again and again. “You still have no idea what you’ve asked for, do you?” he questions.

You thought you did. You hoped you did. But, as Namjoon spanks you with added force, you realize just how right he is. You whimper into Taehyung’s shoulder. He’s kept his cock warm in your tight, clenching hole when Namjoon begins to get vicious with his spanks. Chuckling and mocking you in whispers, Taehyung finds your suddenly all too obedient state entertaining. It flames your face with shame, your entire body caught between wanting another serving of cock or slaps. He imitates your whimpers, coaxing more tears out of you before hissing, “If you had any real shame, you’d get off my cock and go suck your boyfriend’s.”

“She’s a fucking slut,” Namjoon answers, landing another slap to your tenders cheeks. “Why’d you stop fucking her?”

Some humanity flashes in Taehyung’s eyes as you nuzzle your face against his. He mutters something incoherent, along the lines of, “She can’t handle it.”

“She can!” Namjoon grunts as he finally rubs your pain buzzed ass. A shaky whine escapes you and tickles Taehyung’s ear. “You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, digging his nails into your flesh.

You whine in agreement. It’s not enough. He needs to hear you say- scream it. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he peels you off Taehyung enough for him to get a good look at your face. He folds his hands under his head, smirking at the sight of you so shattered by pleasure of being in pain. Face flushed, wet, cum stained and eyes innocent, your features fold in raptured anguish.

Namjoon roughly kneads your right cheek while pressing the length of his cock against it. “Can you take the fucking like a good girl?” He mockingly coos. It juts a chorus of shivers down your spine.

You squeeze tight around Taehyung at the thought. He rasps your name. Namjoon growls lowly, rubbing himself against you as he warns, “You’re not gonna make me ask you a third time, are you?”

Taehyung shifts his hips, cinching your breath at your throat from the stroke of friction. Why did he have to be so big, so pretty and hot staring at you like that? Why’d you have to go tempting gods you know you can’t keep up with? You regret angering Namjoon, realizing that jealousy is the worst power trip you can feed a god. They both want to watch you fall apart, crumble into a pile of bones. Tears spill at the thought, pussy aching around a cock too big to adjust to. Every nerve feels so sensitive, so overused, yet you need to cum again.

No. You can’t take it. But, you’ll be damned if you tell either of them that. And as Namjoon lays another sharp smack on your cheeks, tingling with pain, you circle your hips around Taehyung’s and cry out a broken, breathy and utterly desperate, “Y-es!”

Taehyung grips onto your hips, pulling you half out. You expect to be plunged onto his cock with a new degree of force, but find another one attempting to squeeze in as well. Namjoon’s monster cock pushing into your pussy alongside Taehyung’s. Your jaw drops, eyes roll back as that viciously delicious stretch strangles your soul with bliss. He enters you slow, but sharp, knowing full well that the both of them cannot fit.

Neither cares. Both gods create a quickly speeding rhythm of thrusts into you. Body jolting forwards, breasts shaking over Taehyung’s face and ass bouncing against Namjoon’s hips. He hunches over you to groan your name in your ear, voice husky with lust and dominance. He repeats the word like a prayer. Every syllable drips slow out of his lips like thick molasses when his voice reaches such depth.

You try to lean back into him, but Taehyung keeps you in place with the tight grip on your hips. “Stay still,” he grunts against your nipple. Then, he sucks on it, teasing the little nub between his teeth.

You moan a little too loud at Taehyung’s ministrations for Namjoon’s liking. Both hands locked on your ass, Namjoon pushing your cheek up and against Taehyung. You lose whatever balance you had weighted on your arms, falling flat against the sun god with a squeal. His cock fully plugs into you and when he tries to thrust up against you once more, Namjoon growls, “Both of you stay still.”

A shiver tickles your spine with the wind. As Taehyung kisses your neck, you attempt to sneak a peek at your boyfriend over your shoulder and push your ass back into him. He’s sweaty and huffing. The peachy sunset behind him halos around his muscular frame. He’s so pretty when he’s mad, all those veins lacing his inked skin like little spider webs. His gaze finds yours, that annoyed look intensifying in his eyes when you wink at him.

And though it was completely innocent, it still switches something off in Namjoon. He shifts his tight grip on your ass to the small of your back then, all at once, presses down onto it with the entirety of his strength. A series of loud cracks elicit from your spine like the fire of a gun at the start of a race. And away go his hips as he rams in and out of your too full pussy.

Screams and sudden sobs pour out of you and onto Taehyung as the both of you get shaken by Namjoon’s force. You know your back isn’t broken, blown out maybe, but definitely not broken. You just didn’t think this would be the result of his jealousy and anger. Did he think you were mocking him with that wink, with Taehyung? Perhaps some mocking did occur with Taehyung around, but he’s always liked your snarkier side. He tells you to behave because he knows you won’t and adores it when you don’t. But, maybe you did take it too far, and give into Taehyung too much. You really wish you can say, with all this overstimulating and teasing and taunting, that you regret it all.

Only, you don’t.

Clutching tighter onto Taehyung’s shoulders, your tears fall as freely as your broken moans. Namjoon smacks his hips over your ass, pounding your pussy like it’s just you two here. It’s not as though Taehyung is lying under you, obsessing over how tight you are and just how amazing you smell.

“You know why he’s so mad right,” he questions quietly, voice strained. When you shake your head, he chuckles and whispers, “Because he knows how much better I make you feel.”

The whimper that leaves you was by no means a response to whatever Taehyung was going on about. Though he gives it to you great, he doesn’t compare to your boyfriend. You suppose Namjoon knows this too, somewhere within that deep connection you two share. Still, he holds you further down against Taehyung, practically melding your body into his, and thrusts at an ungodly speed just as he did when he caught you sucking Taehyung’s cock.

You’re not sure either of them understand the load of pleasure they are washing over you. Taehyung has his giant cock stationed in your pussy with his tip pressing continuously against your g-spot as Namjoon’s monstrous cock jabs at it again and again.

Body trembling, voice broken, you squeal, “I’m- ahhgh I’m gon-na cuu-uum.”

“Me too,” Taehyung husks in your ear. It has you clenching tighter.

Namjoon scoffs through a moan. “No, you’re fucking not.”

“But, Joon-”

A harsh smack against your ass silences your protests. “You know what to do when you’re close,” he grunts.

Yes, you do. But there isn’t much time to beg. You have two huge cocks in you and if he thinks he can coax some sort of plea-

“Fuck,” you cry as he spanks you again.

“ASK!” he roars, hands on your back just to make it crack all over again.

Drooling, whimpering, eyes rolling, you somehow find it in you to hold back your orgasm long enough to beg, “Please, fuck, just let me cum! Please, please, Namjoon!”

“Just fucking let her cum,” Taehyung grunts.

Namjoon snakes one of his hands up your spine, hips still ramming into you all the same, and latching onto your hair. Slowly, he peels you off of Taehyung and holds you against his chest. You screw your eyes shut in an attempt not to cream both their cocks.

With his lips at your ear, he whispers, “Look down at him.” After forcing your eyes open and down at Taehyung, who looks all too pleased with your ruined state, Namjoon orders, “Thank him for a good time.”

Panting, lips a spitty mess, you whimper, “Thank you for a good time.”

Taehyung rubs your thighs. “She’s just as fun when she’s a good girl,” he hisses to himself.

Namjoon chuckles, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “You’re my best girl either way,” he whispers to you. The praise makes you shiver, your orgasm almost slipping right out of your control.

“Please let me cum now,” you cry. “Please, I need it.”

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Namjoon peppers little kisses along your jawline. “Shall we all cum together?” he asks before nodding to Taehyung. The sun god’s hips jolt back to act and soon each one is back to taking turns to smash your already too sensitive spot.

You nod energetically. Truthfully, you don’t care if either one of them cums, just as long as they let you do it now.

Taehyung shifts one of his hands further up your hips, his thumb working fast and small circles over your clit. You’re quaking, head thrown back against Namjoon’s shoulders, eyes rolling and screwed shut when Namjoon orders you to look at him. You force them open enough to watch a wicked swirl of power and lust gleam in his eyes. With a single breath, lips hovering over yours, he whispers, “Cum.”

Your vision spots black before failing all together as an extreme dose of ecstasy floods your senses. Their growls collide with your breathless screams in a cacophony of pleasure with each shot of cum they fill you with. And you return the favour, coating each cock with more cum than you think you’ve ever offered. In and out, they still go, desperate to leave you dripping with the impression of both of them for days.

Namjoon spits in your mouth a bit and chuckles quietly when you still find it in you to swallow it. “You just had to be a fucking brat, hmm?” he groans as both his and Taehyung’s thrusts slow down. “Are you satisfied now?”

You hear his words and think that maybe you are processing them, but you really can’t find enough of your voice or energy to respond. Heaving, you know your body gave out well before he even got you in this position and blew your back out. You don’t even realize that you’re slobbering all over yourself until Namjoon licks it all away. Only little whimpers and whines manage to reply to him. It only strengthens that power blown look in his eyes.

Taehyung suddenly pulls himself out of you. Or rather, Namjoon pulls you up and off his cock. Then, he stands up on his knees and presses a soft kiss to your mouth, despite Namjoon’s annoyed groan. “And thank you for such a great evening, my-”

“She’s not yours!”

You watch through somewhat blurry vision as the two gods glare at each other. Taehyung then glances over at the fig vines laced around the orange tree. With a smirk, he nods. His hands fondle your breast one more time before he grabs what little clothes he came with. Then, with the sun, he’s gone.

Basking in the glow of the moon, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you. His touches are now all too gentle to even register, or maybe your skin is simply still on fire from such a rough fucking. Either way, he’s careful in how he handles you now. Cradling you to his chest, he helps you lay down. He kisses your forehead and mutters, “Take a deep breath.”

You do so. Again and again. When you’re breathing somewhat regulates, your mind finally catches up with where you are now. Resting in Namjoon’s arms, his silk skirt draped over your body like a blanket, you gaze up at the stars.

“He planted figs,” Namjoon mutters.

You shift against his chest before shrugging. “He did.” You’re not sure why that simple detail seems to tick him off so much. They’re just figs.

“Do you still like oranges though?”

It suddenly clicks in your head. His anger translating into worry. Does he really think that you’d give him up for Taehyung? He should know you well enough to know he’s your world. And if you weren’t so sore or weak, you would have gotten up and picked the ripest orange and shared it with him. Instead, you turn in his lap, suppressing the urge to hiss at the sparks of pain running up and down your back, and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love oranges.”

He fights off a smile, but relief reflects in his gaze. “I’m sure they love you too,” he mutters like he hasn’t told you so before.

It all doesn’t matter too much anyways. He’s yours and you’re his. No other god, no matter how many times they stop by, will change that. This is, after all, your orange tree.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

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midnightmoonkiss · 3 years

Text

All For You.

Villain! Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: You didn’t ask for this, and yet he gave you the same sick gift again and again. You hated him.

WARNINGS!: blood, death mentioned, dark themes

Category: Angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist

A/N: Was listening to “If I killed Someone For You” and.. I think it fits Villain Deku perfectly.

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

Izuku has OFA

He is not necessarily a yandere

You live alone for a reason

Frigid water poured steadily from the faucet as he rinsed his pale hands, turning the water crimson as it washed down the rusted drain of the medical sink.

The room was dark, the only light being a flickering candle that dripped white wax onto the concrete floor below.

The handle creaked as he turned off the water, a soft sigh slipping past his chapped lips.

Stray droplets broke the silence of the room.

It would have driven anyone else insane.

Dull green eyes stared into a mirror, the dirty surface reflecting his disheveled appearance.

Blood stained his clothes, smudging against his freckled cheek.

His green hair was a mess, once slicked back with gel now all over the place from his habit of running his fingers through his hair when frustrated.

It certainly wasn’t the look he was going for.

Two knocks sounded on the other side of the metal door closing the room off, the noise echoing in the nearly empty room.

Inhaling deeply, the man fixed his hair up with wet digits best he could, only after he finished did he notice his forest green tie had splotches of blood on it as well.

He giggled to himself as he fixed it, tightening it up to his neck.

It looked festive.

Turning around on his black leather heels, he looked over at the bloodied corpse tied up in the corner, all life completely drained from its opened, bloodshot eyes that were once filled with curiosity.

“You know…”

He whispered to it,

“If you hadn’t been so cruel to my beloved, you wouldn’t look so fucking disgusting right now.”

His dress shoes clicked against the floor as he made his way to the large door, knocking thrice in a particular pattern.

It unlocked with a loud clink, and he was out of the room that once held two very alive people.

He didn't like soiling his clothes or getting his hands dirty, but whenever it came to you, he was willing to do anything.

Midoriya Izuku was a dangerous man, and he wasn’t afraid to bare his teeth and leave a lifeless body behind him.

He’d done it before, he’d do it again.

Though he was exhausted, he didn’t let it show. The dark circles under his eyes have been there since he was a child, they didn’t give away how he felt anymore.

“I’ll be heading out.”

He stated, voice low and challenging, daring any of his subordinates to object.

“It’s raining…” One brave soul spoke up from the back,

“I know.” He could smell the asphalt from here, as well as hear the thumping of raindrops on the metal roof five floors above the basement they were currently in.

He took his time climbing up the metal stairs, pulling his black leather glove from the pockets on his slacks and slipping them on.

They prevented fingerprints, and they were quite warm.

The rain was unexpected, leaving you completely soaked all the way down to your shoes as you fumbled with your keys.

You just wanted to get inside, undress, relax in a bath, and go the fuck to sleep.

Today was far more stressful than it had to be, considering your bitch of a boss decided to skip work today without telling anyone - leaving you in charge during the most hectic time of the month.

You were freezing and both mentally and physically exhausted, and what was pissing you off even more was how this was the third time you dropped your damn keys.

Your fingers were numb as you shivered, hard to grip the slippery keys.

You felt like crying victoriously when you finally got the door unlocked.

Slipping your dirty heels and soaked pantyhose off, you dragged your feet through the house, making your way to your room without the use of a light switch. You were too tired to fumble around for it.

Inside your room, you shrugged off your coat and unbutton your white blouse, making your way to your dresser for a fresh pair of clothes.

It was a Saturday, and knowing you had the day off tomorrow was like a sweet kiss.

“(Y/N)..”

You froze, body no longer shaking just from the cold.

That voice.. It haunted you.

Once so sweet and kind.. now all you could associate it with was the stench of gunpowder and the coolness of a blade.

You could see his silhouette in the mirror, his tall, dark figure beside the window you hadn't noticed was opened.

Bile burned your throat, you didn’t want to be near this man ever again.

You were foolish to think you had escaped his reach.

“I’ve missed you..” He drawled, sincerity threading itself through his words as he took a step towards you.

“Really?” You huffed, “I don’t miss you at all.”

“I know you do,”

He was behind you before you could blink, the frightening sparks of his quirk sending chills down your spine as they lit the room in a green glow for just a moment.

You were trapped against the dresser, one hand pressed against the mahogany wood, and the other slithering dangerously around your throat like a snake that could strangle you at any moment.

You gulped, breath stuttering as you fought to stay calm.

His chest was pressed to your back, his figure towering over you.

He always made you feel so small and helpless.

“You reek of blood..” The scent burned your nostrils.

Soaked green locks brushed against your cheek as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume that drove him crazy.

He had purchased the same scent a while ago, his sheets were covered in it. He could never get enough

“And you smell delicious, my love.”

“Don't call me that-!” You spat through your teeth, venom in your voice only making him smile against your clammy flesh.

You reminded him of an angry mouse.

“And why’s that?” His voice was always so deep and dripping with authority.

His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, pulling your face to the side so that he could look into your mesmerizing (E/C) eyes.

They were like a drug to him, heroin that he shot into his veins every time he had the pleasure of looking into them.

Even if all they held was fear and disgust, they were still so beautiful to him.

You didn’t answer.

He sighed.

Looking down, you noticed the red blood on his collar, the sight making you gag.

He no doubt had more on his person, and yet he was pressed against you.

You wanted to throw up.

“Who was it.”

The question hung in the air, and he found himself not wanting to answer it.

“Midoriya, who was it.” Your voice shook, tears blurring your vision at the thought of him torturing another person because of you.

You tried so hard to keep away from people.

You cut contacts with all of your friends and moved cities to keep them safe - hell, you hadn’t even dated after what had happened with your last lover.

He ruined everything.

He stalked you like a predator, and you clearly had nowhere to run and hide.

You would forever be caged like a pet, and your own pathetic attempts to fight back only ever made him smile even wider.

That smile used to bring butterflies to your stomach, and now it just made you nauseous.

To him, it was a game.

The game of seeing how long until you break and give into him.

He’d let you run ‘free,’ act as though you can fight against him.

He adored that spirit of yours, but he knew that it would break some day.

He couldn’t wait.

You’ll be completely his one day, not that you weren’t already.

Looking into his eyes, you somehow knew who it was.

Shame burned your veins.

Your boss..

Even if he was cruel to you, he had a family.

“Don’t cry, (Y/N)..” Izuku whispered, fingers falling from your chin to brush away your onslaught of tears, “I hate it when you cry..”

“You always make me cry, Izuku!” Sobbing out loud, you fought to get away from him, though it was useless you couldn't help yourself from trying.

“I hate you-! Mph!”

Your outburst was silenced by his fingers, two digits knuckle deep in your mouth.

You choked around them, cringing at the taste of leather.

Sniffling, you breathed loudly through your snotty nose, tears stinging your cheeks.

“I don’t like it when you talk like that..” He muttered darkly, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You were afraid of him.

You always were.

It was like there was an invisible knife pressed against your neck, slicing into your skin and daring you to try and speak again.

His forehead fell to your nape, and you stood there in silence for a while, the pitter patter of rain doing next to nothing to soothe your nerves.

It felt like time had stopped in the silence, like you were waiting for your own death.

“You’re soaked..” He commented, pulling away, saliva dripping down your chin as he finally pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“No..”

That made him chuckle, the sound making your skin prickle.

“You were going to take a bath, right?”

Despite being a murderous villain, Izuku still treated you with an ounce of respect, never once looking down at your exposed chest despite a large mirror allowing him to do so.

You hated how he was a gentleman despite everything he’s done and will continue to do.

“You should get out of these clothes.. You’re going to catch a cold.”

And you hated how he fretted over you.

You hated everything about him.

The faint sound of sirens pierced the atmosphere, not too far away but getting louder and louder every second.

“I suppose I better take my leave, my love,”

“Don’t call me that..” You repeated meekly under your weak breath,

“I’ll see you again soon..” He turned around, pausing for a brief second, “but you won’t see me.”

He somehow always made your skin crawl without even having to touch you.

Biting your lip, you whipped around, ready to scream at him, only to see nothing.

He had already left.

And yet..

You knew he was never really gone.

You wished you never met him.

#deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #villain deku x reader #villain deku #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #deku x you #deku #izuku x reader #izuku #izuku midoriya #bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #x reader

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novaandover · 2 years

Photo

Eggboo AU Part 7!

First | <- Previous | Next ->

it’s finally done! these pages are the beefiest i’ve done so far and i’ve been super busy lately but i’m getting back into the swing of things now! :D

(image descriptions under cut)

[Image ID:

Ranboo is in the egg room, an asleep Michael in his arms. The egg looms above him.

Ranboo: Crimson egg, I’ve come with a new follower

The egg speaks in red text that’s mirrored so it has to be read backwards

Egg: I have no need for a weak child

Ranboo looks distressed

Ranboo: He’ll grow! We can train him!

Egg: Kill the child.

Ranboo looks upset, pausing in thought. There is a human silhouette in the background.

Tubbo: Ranboo! Michael! What are you doing in here?

Techno: Ranboo?!

Phil: Just put Michael down and we can talk this out, okay?

The background in the next panel darkens and Ranboo looks at his friends, clutching Michael in his arms. The egg’s vines border him, looking like they’re creeping inwards. His red eye glows brightly.

Ranboo: One wrong move,

His speech is in red text and he’s yelling. The next frame shows Michael in his arms as he holds a dagger-like vine to his son’s neck. Michael stays asleep.

The next page is one large image showing Ranboo clutching Michael in his arms and still holding the dagger, looking distressed as he shuts his eyes. There are slightly blurred speech bubbles behind him and the egg further behind, looming over him.

Phil: Think about what you’re doing…

Tubbo: You can’t be serious...

Techno: Killing non-orphan kids is cringe, Ranboo

The egg’s text is in the foreground, completely unblurred.

Egg: You don’t have a choice.

End ID]

#dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #ranboo #technoblade #philza #tubbo #michael #eggboo au #peer pressure duo #bee duo #fanart #nova's art #lots of red in this one #it was fun figuring out the colours #tw: threats #tw: knives

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junosartsthetic · 3 years

Note

for the yandere writing prompts: i for dabi?

“Irresistible. I just love it when you look at me like that.”

This went on for a lot longer than I originally planned. But it's fine.

Fear. That’s all your mind screamed as you limped down the narrow alleyway. You could no longer feel your right foot, the scorned appendage now dead weight as you pressed onwards.

Your quirk was no match for his, and you went in over your head. Now, you were paying the price for your overconfidence. The world spun around you as you pressed your aching palms against the wall. Your one good leg gave out, leaving you to slide down the bricks and onto the cold concrete.

With heaving breaths, you looked towards your burned foot. You tore your gaze away, gagging. You could smell the burning flesh, watching as the skin bubbled and popped even after the initial flames lapped away at your ankle.

You grit your teeth, putting your hands out to crawl forwards. You weren’t safe here. You needed backup. He would find you. Your wounds bled steadily, leaving a noticeable trail for him to follow.

“I know you’re down here!” he drawled, sending a chill through your body. You bit your lip to stop from crying. Was this the end for you?

You could hear his footsteps as he ambled behind you. “I’m getting warmer!”

You crawled faster, forcing yourself onwards.

The steps stopped, and you knew you’d been spotted.

“I appreciate your grit, hero, but you’re not leaving this alleyway.”

You hesitantly looked behind you, seeing only his fiery blue silhouette. You gulped. “I’ve already called for back-up!” you coughed out.

His laugh echoed down the alley. You could make out a rectangular device pulled from his pocket. “Liar!”

You ground your fist into the ground. “Shit.”

The steps began again, and you summoned all the strength you had left to stand, leaning against the wall as you limped forwards.

Within moments, a hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you against the wall. Your eyes met blazing blue, and you began to cry softly.

“No. No. I can’t die like this.”

Your tears evaporated as his free hand began to dance with flames. “You’re kinda pretty in the light, hero. I almost feel bad killing ya.”

Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the wrist of the arm holding your neck, squeezing it tightly. “No. I refuse to die like this.” Your adrenaline quickly turned your sadness into anger.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you possessed, you ripped his hand from your neck, pulling it behind him as you pushed him to the ground, digging your knee into his back. You bent his arm at an angle that would break it if you pushed any harder. “Surrender, Dabi.”

He chuckled. “I’m flattered you’ve heard of me.”

He easily threw you off, standing up and tackling you to the floor. Your torso was trapped between his knees, and your hands were pinned to the ground.

You struggled angrily.

He moved your hands above your head, pinning them there with one hand as his other gripped your chin. “Quit struggling. I’d like to get a clear view of the fear in your eyes.”

You refused to show him such luxury, brows curling as you spat on him. “You’re nothing but a coward who likes to feel in control.”

He quirked a brow, caressing your cheek. “And you’re nothing but a weak little hero who tried to save the day.”

The urge to use your quirk burned inside of you, but you knew you’d black out in a second if you tried. Your vision was fading already.

You spat out one last retort before succumbing to sleep. “You’ll never win, Dabi. The heroes will always. . . defeat you.”

When you awoke, you expected to be greeted with shiny gates and a bearded messiah. Sadly, this was not the case.

The ropes which held your arms to the back of the chair dug into your wrists, and the metal chair made your spine ache. You were in a dimly lit room, and as you awoke fully you noticed it was a run-down hotel lobby. Weird place for a villain hideout. You supposed they had to move after their first place was discovered.

“When you said you caught a pro-hero, Dabi, I expected All Might. Who is this?” the grey-haired man known as Shigaraki growled, his finger pointing at you.

Dabi, who leaned against the wall coolly, shrugged. “I’m sure she’d be more than willing to introduce herself.”

You noticed the girl with space buns smile eerily. “I think she’s cute! It’s a shame I can’t cut her yet! We could be such good friends!”

Shigaraki stepped toward you. “Speak or die.”

Your eye twitched. “I’m pro-hero (hero name).”

He shook his head. “Your real name.”

“We’re not friends. You don’t need to know.”

His hand suddenly hovered inches from your face. “Answer me, hero.”

“(Y/N). It’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Dabi, she’s of no use to us. Kill her.” He stepped away from you dismissively.

“Don’t be a moron, Shigaraki,” Dabi retorted. “Imagine the bargaining power. Heroes always save their own no matter the cost.”

“Fine, but she’s your responsibility. Do what you want with her.”

With that, you were promptly knocked out again.

You didn’t awake again until a few days later, and immediately noticed you were free of restraints. You laid upon a hotel bed, your foot wrapped up messily in gauze.

You sat up, noticing nobody in the room.

You acted instantly, rushing towards the door with newfound vigor. You were met with Dabi, his hands already producing his blue flames.

“Don’t do something rash, (Y/N). You’re not getting out of here in one piece.”

“What are your plans with me,” you demanded, still in a fighting position.

“Shigaraki wants you dead, but I wanna keep you around. The league gets boring, and I want something to keep me busy. Simple as that,” he answered plainly.

“I’m not your plaything, nor do I plan to go down without a fight.”

“Oh, you will,” he replied, pulling a photo from his pocket. You recognized it instantly. Your family. “Unless you want to take your whole family down with you.”

You shuddered. “You’re sick.”

“I’m a villain, doll. What’d you expect?”

“Don’t call me doll, Dabi.”

He wiggled the photograph in front of you. “You might wanna rephrase that.”

With much force, you limped back towards the bed, sitting down. You clenched your fists. Why did you tell them your real name so easily? Idiot. Escape now seemed impossible.

“D’aww, don’t look so down, doll. I promise I’m not that bad once you get to know me!”

He sat down next to you. You cringed away.

This was the beginning of your life as a prisoner.

Weeks passed until you even spoke to Dabi again, though he was the only one entering and exiting your room. He’d bring you food and water, even providing you with soaps to use in the shower. You didn’t know what his plan was surrounding you, but you refused to simply go limp and give up.

“Dabi,” you spoke one day, causing the aforementioned man to look up from his seat on the chair. He had been on his phone, as he usually did whenever he’d sit there for hours on end.

He smirked as he met your eye. “Yes, doll?”

“Where are we right now?”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t think I’d actually tell you that, right?”

“Fine. What are you looking at on your phone?”

Maybe if you managed to gain his trust he’d at least tell you something of use. First you had to loosen him up a bit. Throw him off his guard.

“Stuff.”

“What stuff.”

“None of your business, doll.”

You sighed. “I’ve been in here for weeks with nothing to do and nobody besides you to talk to. Throw me a bone here.”

He returned his phone to his pocket. “Okay. The floor is yours.”

“Can I at least have a TV or something? This being kidnapped thing is kinda boring. Especially since I’m not actively being threatened, killed, or tortured.”

He shot you a wink. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You sighed. “Can you at least tell me what I’m still doing here? It’s been weeks.”

He stood from his chair, making his way to lean against the bedpost. “You’re getting real comfortable, making small talk with a villain, doll. That might come back to bite you.”

You paused. No. You weren’t comfortable at all. You were bored. And you had to gain his trust. You had a plan. You were just doing what you had to in order to get out.

Shaking the doubts away, you spoke. “Seems like you’re getting too comfortable talking with a hero.”

He smirked. “You’re still calling yourself that? Cute. But what exactly have you done lately that’s so heroic?”

You balled your hands into fists. “The only reason I’m still here is to keep my family safe. I’m protecting them. That’s what heroes do. Save people.”

“Bullshit.”

His words shocked you.

“You’re a coward. A selfish little girl who thinks she can play with the big dogs. You’re not a hero. Not anymore.”

You resisted the urge to lash out. “Shut up, Dabi.”

“You think I’m such a bad guy, doll, but in reality you and I are closer than you think.” He grabbed your chin roughly, leaning down to stare you in the eyes.

“I know you’re just barely holding it together. You’re cracking. You’re falling apart. You’re nothing. You’re not a hero. You’re pathetic. And you know it.”

You blinked away the tears forming in your eyes. “Stop. Just stop talking.”

He pushed you down, your back hitting the bed as he climbed on top of you. His hands grasped yours, pushing them against the sheets. “C’mon, doll. Being a villain ain’t so bad. Why don’t you just give in, huh? You know you were never cut out to be a hero.”

You gasped for words. “I— that’s not— I’m not a villain!”

“Not yet.”

You tried to hold it in, but tears began to flow down your face, damping the sheets.

Looking into your eyes, Dabi smiled, his eyes flaming with pleasure. “There it is. I can see it in your eyes. You’re broken now.”

You could only stare back at him, unmoving. No words fell from your mouth. He felt your body go limp. You’d stopped struggling.

He moved to grab your wrists with one hand, the other gripping your chin as he roughly pulled your head up. You hated the satisfaction on his face. You tried to look away, but his hand held you still. “Irresistible. I just love it when you look at me like that. Like you’re numb. Oh how you’ve fallen, doll.”

He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “But don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll piece you back together. And you’ll learn who you belong to.”

#my hero academia #mha #yandere #x reader #tw violence #tw stockholm syndrome #boku no hero academia #dabi #tw yandere #horror fic #bnha #over 1000 words #fanfiction #fic #mha x reader #y/n #league of villains #dabi x reader

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