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weebsinstash · 4 months

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Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them

I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure

He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino

I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"

But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED

One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"

And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')

Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--

When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.

But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"

And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"

And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"

At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--

The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.

IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails

"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"

"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"

"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"

"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"

"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

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trailer trash!anakin

this au was a joint effort with my bff @fuckmyskywalker 🫶🫶🫶

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of drug use, age gaps, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, anakin is objectively a bad person in this, 18+ minors DNI

masterlist

Anakin and Padme divorced many years ago because he was a deadbeat father, an alcoholic, and she suspected him of an affair. Little did she know, it wasn't just one affair.

Anakin has three kids who are now all adults. He has an older daughter who's just like her mother and has no patience for her dad's bullshit, and a set of twins, a boy and a girl. His son has his temper, much to his mother's dismay, and his younger daughter is his little princess.

Padme and the kids stayed in the house, so he had to move to a trailer park across town. Padme always did all of the housework, which was part of the reason for the divorce, so Anakin's place is always a wreck.

There's beer cans and cigarette butts everywhere, laundry on the floor, dishes piled in the sink, playing cards scattered around. They're not all his, some of the mess can be attributed to his buddies he invites over on the weekends, but either way, he makes no effort to clean it up.

Since his wife, Anakin hasn't dated. He's brought home plenty of girls, all significantly younger than he is. Any time he's asked about it, he explains that he just prefers younger girls. He and Padme were only 19 when they got together, so he's used to being with a younger woman.

Anakin is in his forties now, but he doesn't act his age. He has a job at the mechanic's shop and he does what minimal dad duties are required of him, though now that his kids are adults, he isn't needed as much. In his free time, he gets drunk and high with his friends, goes to strip clubs, and gambles his money away.

You're a waitress at the diner near the trailer park. Anakin is a regular, though your coworkers told you he only comes in when you're working. He usually orders a cup of coffee and sits at the counter where he can flirt with you every time you walk by.

He's told you a lot about himself; you know what kind of guy he is. Borderline alcoholic, irresponsible, unfaithful. Maybe you should've listened to your parents when they told you to stay away from older guys because you've found yourself charmed by him.

Anakin showers you in compliments, especially when you wear your hair in pigtails. He tips generously even though you know he doesn't have much extra money to spare. He asks about your day and he really seems like he cares.

He knows you don't have a car and one day, when your shift was about to end, he offered you a ride home. You agreed like the naïve little thing you are and got into the passenger seat of his shitbox car. He asked if you wanted to stop at his place for a bit before he took you home. Said he had beer and he could scrape together something a bit sweeter for you if you'd prefer.

The two of you flipped through the stations on his TV until you found something good, but you didn't get to watch it for long. After the second commercial break, Anakin pulled you into his lap and grabbed at your ass greedily. You giggled and slapped at his chest playfully, and though he returned your smile, you could see the hunger in his eyes.

Anakin told you he's been obsessed with you since he first saw you. Said you're the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on. Said you make him feel young again. That's the kind of sweet talk that gets him all the girls that don't know better.

He drags you to the bedroom and he kisses you dizzy so you don't notice how the fitted sheet is pulled up over the corner of the mattress or the Baywatch poster on the wall. He gets on his back and sits you on top of him, ever the lazy bastard. He wants you to put on a show for him to watch eagerly like you're his personal porn star.

Your tight cunt grips him perfectly and your tits bouncing in his face mesmerize him. He loves how you're so eager to give yourself up to him. Loves that you're inexperienced enough that every tough feels electric. Loves that you're dumb enough that his promise to pull out is enough.

When you're finished, he holds you in his arms against his bare chest while he smokes. When he looks in your eyes, he knows he has you. You're gonna move in and make this place a home, you'll get pregnant and he'll promise to marry you once he has enough money for a ring. Maybe this time he'll stick around, but Anakin's never been good at breaking cycles.

#anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker smut #trailer trash!anakin #anakin au #anakin skywalker au #star wars #star wars smut #star wars au #star wars fanfiction

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alittlebitofloveliness · 1 month

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More Darry Curtis headcanons

-Goes to every single parent/teacher interview night or open house at Ponyboy’s school, even if he has to take off work. Part of it is because he’s determined to be a good guardian but part of it is because he just proud of Pony and likes hearing from teachers how great he is

-Speaking of how great Pony is, Darry brags about Pony SO much. Like his work crew and the gang never stop hearing about how great the kid is…except when the kid is present. Then you couldn’t get a compliment out of him if you pried his jaw open

-He and Sodapop both have a soft spot for soap operas and watch them together super late at night so no one else in the gang- Pony included- will find out. (Steve caught them once but he just sat down quietly, waving away their hasty attempts to explain themselves, muttering for them to shut up, and that he used to watch them with his mom when she was still around. The three of them finished the episode and went to bed without saying anything else.)

-Loves music of all kinds (I just know he’d be one of those guys that is SO into music history and makes it everyone else’s problem) “did you know this song was meant to be an apology to-“ “-to some random broad, we know Dar, now shut up would ya?”

-Is left handed

-He and Two-bit butt heads quite a bit but he’s also closer to Two than almost anyone else in the gang because they’re the closest in age. They have so many inside jokes that the rest of the gang gets confused because Two can sometimes get him to snicker from seemingly innocuous remarks that aren’t funny to anyone but Darry

-Has dragged Soda (and Steve by extension) away from Buck’s too many times to count and is pissed every time

-Worries the whole time when he goes on ski trips with his old buddies. He worries a lot anyway, but it’s always worse when he’s too far from home to get there immediately if something happened. Both Soda and Pony know this so they’re actually better behaved when he’s gone than when he isn’t

-Speaking of the ski trips, he always comes back glowing, for once looking his age, so the gang encourages him to go as much as possible. They have to be subtle about it though, because he gets suspicious that they’re planning something if they make it too obvious they’re trying to get him to leave, and then there’s no way in hell he’ll go

-Loves rodeos but unlike Soda has never and never wanted to participate in one

-Mother's day and father's day are contentious days in the Curtis house ever since the accident, so Soda and Pony just designated a random day as 'Darry Day" and got him little gifts, and did all the housework because they really do appreciate everything he does for them. Darry was super touched and vehemently denies tearing up when he saw the card Pony made for him

-His bond with Tim Shepard is hard for the gang, Darry himself, and even Tim to figure out, but it’s very strong despite how little they actually interact

-Despite refusing to ever go to the hospital, he’s actually the absolute worst patient when he’s sick. It takes a lot for him to admit that he’s ill, but once he does he’s absolutely insufferable. Pony and Soda takes turns taking care of him because they’re both liable to lose their temper if they have to do it for too long without a break. (“Soda my head hurts” “I know Darry” “Soda I need a glass of water” “you have a glass of water” “but Soda it’s not cold” “I got you a new one five minutes ago” “but Soda it warmed up” “damnit! Pony tag in, you deal with him, I need a smoke” “Pony I’m dying” “you’re not dying Dar” “yes I am” "no you're not")

-He’s a super fast walker. Like, anyone shorter than him has to jog a lil to catch up

-He’s a cat person. Pony and Soda are both dog people, and it has caused more than one argument despite the fact they have no pets and couldn’t afford one even if they could agree on what they wanted

-He and Soda definitely made a secret handshake when they were little, and he still remembers every single move of it even though they haven’t done it in years and he isn’t sure if Soda even remembers making it

#the outsiders #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle #johnny cade #dally winston #tim shepard #the outsiders headcanons

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lazywriters-blog · 10 months

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SISTER's SUPPORT 2

Summary: You have a story to tell about how you got pushed into a situation by your sister-in-law. Lying didn't get you anywhere.

Since you wanted a part two, here it is. With some sprinkled dark chocolate and layered spooky, I like these kinds of goofy dark scenarios- (not proofread)

You felt like a married couple consoling a raging teen who refused their favorite snack because of something you did. Even if you did, you had no idea of what you did wrong to deserve this, you barely know the twin brother and sister.

Maybe faking it till you make it home safe and sound was a good decision to keep in mind while you slowly and carefully sip your black tea, peering over to the twins who thought taking eyes off of you meant death.

You know they are not bad people, there are only good things you've heard about them in passing, adorable twin magicians with hats and tricks beloved because of it.

You didn't think the sister would have such a temper. Who in their right mind would come forth and throw accusations, unless her dear brother did admire you and you've gone and missed his magic show?

"No need to be coy, you don't need to lie about anything, we know much already. You like my brother too, don't you?"

You couldn't have responded quicker than lyney who gasped and hid his face behind his hand unsure if disappointment or embarrassment was right in his situation. '... Would you please stop embarrassing me and giving me heart attacks?"

"I'm sure he's a good gentleman and-"

"I asked, do you like him or not? Quit beating around the bushes and tell us the truth, that way my brother can rest easy and move on from his unhealthy fixation." She crossed her arms and glared, you are not sure if she's older than you yet.

"Oh... Uh." she's blunt, you were caught off guard, "Well, to be honest, I don't know him. You both are good magicians I've heard, I can't say if I like him or not if I haven't gotten to know him at all."

"Brother, tell her about yourself." She faced him, "You've been pining over a girl who doesn't even know you better than herself and you've been losing sleep over this?"

"Lynette, maybe spare me some dignity and let things happen naturally. Why do you have to rat me out like that?"

"Because I hate seeing you like this."

If you could get up and leave, you would without a second wasted. The twins were bickering while you contemplated your wisest words and phrases, sentences that were guaranteed to get you out of it with your ego intact.

"I said I've lost sleep because of that one failed trick I got wrong, and you were the one to butt in before I could make my move!"

"If I hadn't, this wouldn't be happening! You would be back to stalk-" Lyney quickly put his hand on her mouth and furrowed his eyebrows, as if to say 'Shut up she doesn't need to know that.'

But that expression eased off when he turned around to look you in the eye, "I'm sorry about this, my sister is a little fussy and all, you know..." he nervously smiled, had you not known better or seen it happen you would have believed they had nothing to hide.

"It's fine." What more could you say? They were guilty of dragging you here.

"I am sorry, I am, My sister usually doesn't pull off such stunts, it would be better for us to forget about this and move along." he laughed, but somehow it felt ominous to you, the way he steepled his hand and drop his elbow on the table, he didn't feel threatened anymore.

"Of course, why not," you answered.

"Splendid!" he raised his hands, giving you a tight smile with closed eyes. Giving it a few seconds, he waited for his sister to say something, elbowing her when she didn't.

Were you bonding with the twins? Not really.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but would you like to marry my brother? I'm sure he'll sleep better knowing you are his. He's not a bad guy."

If you weren't there, Lyney wouldn't have kept up his smile and made you see him in a good light, however, his smile still appeared strained.

These two were oddly funny siblings with a sudden tendency to expose each other.

"Lynette..." Lyney hummed in a low voice, and his sister did not even flinch, "Sorry bro."

"Was this conversation about marriage from the beginning? Why didn't you say so? I wouldn't have had to worry so much haha..." how were you supposed to get out of this?

Reacting positively could only get you so far.

"So? Do you approve of my brother? You guys should get married in two days." Nothing seemed to faze this girl.

You looked at Lyney, then Lynette and you weren't sure of what you were going to say anymore.

If you say no, you are certain his sister will tear you to shreds and make sure the rest of your days go on as badly as possible, even saying 'I'll think about it' ingrained the same scenario in your head.

It shouldn't be so bad to say yes, no?

"... Why not?"

Saying no meant more harm than good. Besides, you just wanted to get out of this situation as quietly as possible.

"Bro, you owe me one. When can I expect grandchildren?"

"You mean nephews..." lyney replied.

"Yeah, that."

Tag list

@swivy123 @rotin0

@idontevenknow129 @heartsbyvalentina

#yandere imagines #yandere drabble #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact lyney #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney #yandere lyney #Kindaa yandere #genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact x reader

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whimsical-roasting · 10 months

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Jamie Tartt and the Five Love Language

THERES SO MUCH I COULD SAYYY and special thanks to @caapsiizzereads for helping me brainstorm some of these!! ugh just wanna love on the babyboy so much yknow??

TELL ME IF THERE'S MORE YOU CAN THINK OFFFFF

Words of Affirmations:

HE HAS A PRAISE KINK. ITS LITERALLYYYYYYY CANNON

Babyboy is so precious…… he knows how it feels not to get kind words, and so he just can’t help but give them out to you

“Woah, babe…your mind..” in a stunned manner when you go off about something you’re passionate about

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers at night as you fall asleep

Has a shared spotify playlist that you both can collab on, and it’s just songs (lyrics) that remind you of each other!! Jamie plays it when he’s heading to away games in the coach, and it makes him feel a bit calmer

Giving you ALL the praise and dirty talk during sexy time “you’re so fucking beautiful”, “you make me feel so so good” “holy fuck angel”

Sometimes just stares at you randomly with a goofy look and you’re like ??? what ??? what is it ?? did he realise i’m ugly or my nose is weird or wHAT !!!???!! and he’s just like, “you look like sunshine”, all smitten and shit

Kisses each feature on your body and says “my favourite” to every. single. one.

“I believe in ya!”

Desperately wants to make sure you guys have a couple’s song - something meaningful that describes how he feels about you that he can play for you both… like Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift/Hearts Don’t Break Around You by Ed Sheeran/Simple Things by Miguel

Plays that song after fights when the silences are still tender; when you’re drunk and slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am; when you’re getting dressed for a gala, and he’s fixing his hair, and you’re putting on your earrings

“I adore you, sweetheart”, “you look like a pretty flower”, “me heart fuckin sings seeing ya”

Physical Touch:

Absent-mindedly plays with your hair

Nuzzles face into your neck and then peppers kisses on your shoulder

Massages/scratches your scalp cause he knows how good it feels when you do it for him

Traces patterns on your knee and thighs if you sit next to him

Gotta be holding hands at all times

Pinky promises are sacred… probs locks pinkies and then kisses his thumb to “stamp it”

Slapping his ass as he walks past you, and so he’s always covering his butt, complaining “babeeee you can’t do thattttt”, but then he’ll be all pouty if one day you don’t slap his ass when he walks past… “do you not love me anymore?”

He will randomly come up to you, wrap your arms around you, getting as close as possible and tuck his face between your shoulder and neck, saying that he’s recharging

Always gotta be touching some part of you.. it’s the only way to live tbh

Gift Giving:

Remember when Jamie was like, “can’t I just buy them all PS5s as a sorry??” “what better thing to spend money on than love?“ LMFAOOOO babyboy :”) he means well

The amount of effort he put into Roy’s gift for Uncle’s Day <3

Jamie would fucking love getting you fancy, expensive gifts around big occasions (birthdays, holidays etc.)

BUT I think he’d also love getting you smaller gifts like… Sunday morning flowers, or stocking up on different kinds of herbal tea in his kitchen cause he knows sometimes you’re in the mood for a random cuppa on quiet evenings

Personally, someone like me loves cute tea cups/mugs, so I think buying two mugs to keep in his house cause “they’re so cute, and I wanted them for us” would make him so happy!! He doesn’t even use them all that much, but just seeing them in the cupboard makes him smiley

The kind to want matching outfits or colour-coordinated outfits - most def would buy you both matching sneakers (so would Isaac/most of the team with his S/O)

Gets you a ‘J’ gold chain and wears a gold one with your initial

If he sees some targeted ad on your insta or something for what you’ve searched up he’s like hmmm,,,,,,i might just,,,*add to cart*

Quality Time:

Wants to spend all his time with you!! Ofc he does!!!

Is happy to just sit in silence, stroking your calves he watches tiktok with your legs on his lap!! Esp if you’re like reading/doing work on your laptop

He just wants to be there yknow? And he tries not to be annoying but the little puppy can’t help but wanna talk and touch and, ultimately, annoy you

Tries to invite you to all his events? “Can me girlfriend come?”

Even the ones that aren’t for guests, “babeeee, what do ya mean you won’t come to Colin’s guys' night? I swear they’ll be fine with it…probably!!” “can I come to girl’s night with ya? I’ll let you paint me nails…come on.. Pleaseeee?”

Texts you periodically during the night regardless ahahaha

I like the idea of, “hey I gotta drive somewhere, and it’s gonna take me 30 minutes..can you talk?” whilst one of you is in the car and the other’s at home or, I dunno, has some time during their day

Date nightssssss every two weeks… OR if the season gets busy and he’s also exhausted from Roy’s trainings then SPECIFIC carved out time to be affectionate and date-y

“I’m so sorry, love, I know we had that reservation tonight, but I came home knackered and just crashed…” “Jaim, it’s okay-” “No, no, it’s not! I’m so fucking dead from training I don’t even get to take ya out anymore! What if- what if you wanted a picnic, huh!” “Baby, it’s okay, really.. How about we set up a picnic on the living room floor and order takeout? Something that Roy’ll let you eat, yea?” “I’m so fucking grateful for ya, angel, I swear”

He always wants you to watch him score a goal on FIFA cause he’s a child ahahaha… probably teaches you how to play and then pouts when you score as Obisanya

Wants to try out random hobbies with you - sip and paint cause “I’ll have an excuse to draw outta the lines”; knitting cause “Bumbercatch said it’s soothin, babe”; quick dry clay but he makes a big circular lump at first and grins at you “look babe!! I made a football!”

Acts of Service:

HIM TEACHING ROY HOW TO RIDE A BIKE

Makes you coffee once he’s back from his 4am training

Always offers you his jacket/coat

“I know this was stressing ya, babe, so I took care of it”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve been practising this dish just for you.. I won’t burn it this time, promise”

Late night cravings???? McDonald’s fries and an Oreo Mcflurry?? He’s already slipping on his jacket and finding his keys (imagine how attentive he’d be with your weird ass pregnancy cravings omg)

ALWAYS opens doors for you... Probably yells “WAIT” when in the car with you just so he can jog out and open your door with a grin

Always down to carry your purse, puts it on his shoulder like it’s HIS despite having his lil bum bag across his chest

Nightime or morning routine, he probs has to get ready before you so he lays out your skincare for you. Probs adds toothpaste on your brush if he hears you getting ready to enter the bathroom

Probably the main one driving everywhere, but if you drive and need to fill up your tank, he’ll be the one to get out and fill it then pay,,, he’s almost offended that you say you’re capable of doing so yourself, “babe, what am I here for?!”

Tries to eat in accordance with your dietary requirements (e.g. I’m vegetarian) if you guys have date night - or he’ll always have like mouthwash and gum so he can kiss ya later without making you feel uncomfortable!!

“Ooh babe, they have the ravioli ya like and the vodka gnocchi!! Okay, you order the ravioli, and I’ll get the gnocchi and we’ll split, yea?” “Hey Jaim, can we order fries too?” “Fuck yea!”

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt #phil dunster #jamie tartt love languages #tell me moreeee #i didn't proof read so gl bae

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lowpolyanimals · 10 months

Note

How are you doing?

hey! I am doing much better these days, PMDD is kicking my butt every month still but I am doing pretty well considering. I had to reduce my hours in work to help reclaim some of my life that PMDD takes but it helps a lot so I am very grateful I am able to do that. I got married last year and now am living with my spouse so that has been a dream come true and is such a big help too! I still have way too many hobbies and counting (thanks neopets) for my time available but I am slowly rotating them all and making the most out of my time finally!

I am really sorry that I was away for so long. At the time that I left, I was just so overwhelmed due to my PMDD getting worse and becoming unbearable, working whilst ill, trying to catch up on work / life missed due to ill health etc. and it all got a bit too much for me. Even the thought of coming back to the blog after a couple weeks was too overwhelming (because of how I was running the blog at the time). Later on I had also deleted Tumblr from my phone in an attempt to reduce screen time but it meant that I stopped using it completely and I regret that it largely contributed to me staying away for so long.

I want to give this blog a big old reboot and get it up and running again but I realised that I need to change the way that I run the blog. Previously I had this HUGE backlog of submissions that caused me to have to spend hours and hours one day of my weekend to get through so many submissions. I wanted to just power through until eventually I’d get to the point where I’d just be able to handle submissions as soon as they come in then and there but there was just too many and it took too much of a toll and I hit breaking point. :(

So I’ve decided to just run the blog now how I've always wanted to - by dealing with submissions as and when they come in and opening/closing submissions to keep it to a manageable level (I'm sure this is how other blogs do it, I think I am just dumb lol). I will also post them immediately as and when they come in and only use the queue if I’m going to be posting several posts in a row to avoid spamming. It just means posting will be a bit more sporadic sometimes that’s all. However, in order for me to do this, I am going to have to omit the backlog (for now). I can always go back to the backlog and shave some off if I can handle it (or please feel free to resubmit anything I've not already posted).

I’ll make a new pinned post in a couple of days explicitly explaining the new changes to how the blog will be run behind the scenes, although honestly it’s not going to affect much on you guys side of things, you will still see the same content and submit the same way. I just want to add a rule to say please do not submit more than one post a day and that I’ll open/close submissions to keep things manageable. Submissions will stay off until that post comes out so just bear with me (🐻) a little longer!

Just want to say before I end this really long post (they always get so out of hand lol) that I MISSED YOU GUYS TOO and I LOVE YOU ALL and your kind messages made me so very motivated to get this going again, thank you! 🥺❤️ I can’t wait to bring you more of these little critters we love so much once again :)

#yooo i can't remember my tags #what did i used to say for non animal related posts #blog talk #oh my god that was it #don't take me to the home just yet

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theodorecanaryhood · 4 months

Text

Stages in life

Arkham Knight / Red Hood / Jason Todd x Male reader

Relationships are filled with differences for each people in them, yours and Jason’s was quite different in many ways.

You were Black Bird while Jason was Robin, you were friends and then all of a sudden, he was gone.

Then Arkham Knight came and took you away to teach Bruce a lesson, once you realised Jason was the Arkham Knight. The love you both felt and never admitted came flooding back.

The Arkham Knight had you in his room as you touched his face, Jason looked confused as you lifted the visor up.

‘Jason’ you whispered as you tiptoed and greeted Jason’s lips.

You couldn’t turn your back on Bruce, but you also couldn’t turn your back on Jason. So you decided to step away from both as they figured out what they wanted.

Of course, the grand finale did not go as to plan for either Jason nor Bruce. Jason took his time and realised he wanted to do the right thing for a change.

Jason became Red Hood and was a threat to everyone, he had no problem taking enemies out. Black Mask being no exception of course.

Violent, angry, menacing and dangerous, Red Hood kept the streets safe and was a thunder of force that no one dared to cross.

Only you however, only you had the power to turn Jason into a puppy who was clinging to you all the time.

Jason looked off into the distance as he mentally aimed up the ball with the hole, the golf club swung nicely as the ball flew to the hole in the ground.

You both found this stage particularly interesting as you were both oblivious, Jason stood tall in his white muscle tee.

Two women stood to the side as they took in your form, both debating on which one saw you first and who can shoot their shot. Jason chuckled as he saw this, and you didn’t.

Jason walked over and gave your ass a nice slap, putting arm around you as the two women looked in realisation.

The golf date finished as Jason drove you both home quickly, in order for you both to change into something a little more comfortable.

Jason took you to a romantic dinner, music, wine and a three course meal.

Jason looked so irresistible in his black shirt and trousers, you felt thankful everyday that you woke up next to Jason, a man of this quality.

The two of you held hands over the table as you talked and laughed, the waitress came over with a smile as she looked at you both admiring each other.

This stage was perfect for Jason, he could sit and stare at you all he wanted, watching as your face lit up when you’d speak of things you loved. Jason admired you, loved you.

Jason stood at the bar as he ordered drinks for the two of you, one last drink before you both headed home.

A quick Cosmo before hitting the road as Jason began a conversation with a random bunch of women at the bar. Guess they liked the fact a gay guy was noticing their outfits. You joined for a while before the two of you left.

The next day was filled with relaxing and the two of you enjoying some time together, you both decided the gym was a better addition than staying in all day.

Of course, Jason asked for a different kind of cardio session as he offered to take you to bed and use you. You promised that tonight, but right now wanted a pump session.

Jason isn’t one for showing off, but you love his physique as much as you love him as a person, Jason’s ripped body was on show as he sent you a spicy pic from the other side of the gym.

A nearby woman stared at Jason as he snapped the shot, Jason threw his tank top back on as you appeared.

Jason sat in the bench press as you straddled his lap, assisting him with his lifts. You leant down to give Jason a kiss as he lifted you up.

Jason gave you a piggy back as he did squats with you on his back, your smaller frame helped Jason build some growth to his back and butt as he lifted you each time.

This stage was great for Jason, as he had someone to just simply accompany him. He had his earphones on, as did you, so there wasn’t much of a conversation, but just being in your presence was enough.

Jason had many stages in his life, from Robin to Arkham Knight, to Red Hood. But his favourite stage, was you being his boyfriend. The moments with you were Jason’s favourite.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #arkham knight x male reader #brayan lopez

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

Text

Letters Perished in Dried Ink (18+)

Pairing: Aemond x Reader;

Warnings: vivid descriptions of male masurbation, slight angst, a lot of lousy grandpas who have and will continue to butt into your situationship with Aemond;

Word Count: 6.5k;

Author's Note: I struggled with major writer's block this month. I suppose it happens to the best of us :") While I'm still working on the three fics I promised you guys, have this tiny one-shot to make up for the lack of updates ♡

I tried to be poetic. Alas, I miserably failed. See you in the next update (which is going to hopefully present much better)!

How could a misunderstanding ruin everything seven years of love has built?

Her steady hand reached for the quill, and the girl settled her feather over the small and modest piece of paper. For two, mayhaps three seconds she paused, thinking well on what she would like most adherently to convey.

Her eyes glossed over with the swirl of mischief, and the Lady smiled to herself, while expelling a tantalising and brisk breath.

To my dearest, Aemond

While I was afraid that my time in King’s Landing would change the perception I had of my homeland, I must admit that I was wrong. I might push as far as to say that everything remains the same; not a change since I last saw it. My chamber, with the dolls I left on the goose-stuffed pillows, the training grounds – none the grander as the ones in the Red Keep, mind you –, and the large halls of Riverrun… all seemingly frozen in place.

Albeit the doors feel smaller now, and I can reach without the help of a stool where I once could not, I find that I am underwhelmed, and dangerously melancholic over the time I spent in your company, which accounted for so much of my early girlhood.

Grandfather has taken to my return quite well. He is still bedridden, but somehow more vivacious that his blood is nearer yet.

I look at the portraits that adorn the walls of our darkened castle, and sometimes think back to my elder brothers. I think grandfather does so, as well.

But such terrible quarrels have no place in my dull writings! This new life isn’t as tedious as I make it out to be. I was acquainted with my Septa, though much of my education will be taken care of by grandsire now. Yesterday I walked the grounds for hours on end, and managed to spot some old and familiar faces. I had forgotten how kind the riverlords can be.

One thing that must be noted – and recognised as drastically peculiar – is how quiet it is here. Naturally, there is no active Court to gossip and flaunt back their wealth and actions.

You would like it here.

And I’ll say this much: I’d like it better if you were here, too.

I end my musings with burning questions, that you simply must answer in your next correspondence:

First and foremost, how have you been? Secondly, how are our good Queen and King? Word reached the Trident that your father’s fallen sick, and so I pray piously without stray that he recovers well and quickly. Thirdly, how is sweet Helaena fairing? Last I heard of her, the babe was close to being born.

I readily await for your reply, and urge you to make haste with it!

Until then I remain, as always,

Your inquisitive and loyal friend

His eye trails over the slight curve of her writing. And the Prince catches himself smiling, humming in admission at her carefully picked-out words.

He notices, with great perplexion, that despite his hardest efforts of stifling such impropriety, the ache inside his chest arouses. His heartbeat hammers out of him, granting a slight tremor in his lax and calloused hand.

And he stands this way, hovering over the pristine parchment, whilst bringing his hand out to pinch the bridge of his nose – rub his throbbing blinder with the back end of his hand. His broad chest heaves with every laboured exhale, and Aemond sighs with proper longing.

To my good friend,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, and in higher spirits than the day you wrote to me. It is very unlike you to barely fill a page. I expect your next communication to hold greater details of your life in the Riverlands.

King’s Landing is the same as you remember. Smells like shit and feels like shit, especially now, as I'm denied from the raptures of your company.

My routine too, remains identical. I am seated next to Aegon when we break fast as of late, and I must stress how greatly I preferred my view beforehand.

I report with great sorrow that hardly any intelligent conversation has been had since your swift departure. I'm left longing at the dinner table, for your calculated thoughts, for your sweet melodic voice, and for our elbows to be lightly touching.

Mother is overwhelmed with higher duties of the Court. I try to help her as best I can, with whatever tasks she may yet entrust me with. I lack the patience to sit idly, and so I’ve taken to Aegon’s share of duties. I fulfil them better than he ever could, and the exercise proves itself useful: for I scarcely find the time to think of you throughout the day.

The nights and morrows are harder yet, as my thoughts reach out to you, wondering helplessly how you spend your better days, so painfully far from me.

A dozen maesters tend to Viserys, each saying he will get better as time has its murky say. Yet ‘til that “eventual better” makes itself known to us all, he nurses his body with milk of the poppy, and lets mother do all his work.

Helaena is well. She dreamt the babe would be a boy, and already settled on a name for him. She wishes to call him Maelor, something that hasn’t been rebuked by Aegon.

She misses you greatly. As do I.

As does Vhagar.

The Red Keep feels empty without your fits of laughter.

Beckon your reply quickly.

Your most dutiful servant,

Aemond

A little over a week had passed since his Lady’s last reply. One week and four full days, to be exact... though Aemond would never own up to counting.

His sour mood grew to exceed all expectations, and the Prince bit his tongue through most of dinner, barely uttering a single word. His quiet nature wasn’t something to be troubled of, but even his drunk-out-of-his-mind brother noticed something had been irking him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so brooding, brother.” Aegon voiced out his concern, after another hefty gulp of alcohol. An impish grin spread across his puffy face, and Viserys’ first-born son leaned over in his chair to soothe him. “Am I right to assume that this has something to do with the lack of reply from a certain lady of the Riverlands?”

A low growl etched from deep within the youth’s throat. Aemond regarded Aegon with a cutting look, and extended his arm forward to grip the base of the wine pouch. He took a moment to ponder on the gaucherie of getting drunk, but settled on thrusting himself to the momentary relief that a hazy mind could offer.

Briskly, he took a swing of the burning liquor, and disregarded the way in which his mother absent-mindedly glared at him.

A loud snicker echoed through the quiet room, and Aegon clasped his hands together, pouting acutely at his brother's actions. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

A knot of heartfelt disregard tightened in Aemond’s throat, and his fist clenched painfully right above the wooden table. His free hand gripped the handle of the knife with a knowledge untoward, and the Prince shared a look with his elder brother, while rotating the blade about.

“Careful, Aegon. There are plenty of sharp objects around this table. And you haven’t been spotted in the training yard for quite some time."

His purple eyes widened to rounded specs of unreliant fear. Still he put on a lazy smile, and merely shrugged his shoulders. Aegon’s mouth opened again, threatening to spew out words that would grant no happy ending to their cosy dinnertime.

Eventually, it was Alicent’s glacial tone that interrupted their clash of wits.

“Boys,” She warned them both, not even bothering to look at them, “That is enough.”

Aegon’s mouth slouched childishly, and the man scoffed in rebuttal, while pointing at his rowdy sibling. “I was merely expressing my concern for Aemond, mother. He’s been very affected, now that his lady love abandoned him.”

Immediately Aemond rebuked his cutlery, and in the span of a single second, the Prince latched onto his berating brother. A dangerous look drew across his Targaryen features, making them all the sharper and unforgiving. Woefully he gripped his collar, hoisting him off the ground with an unnatural and vexing ease, and settled on squeezing Aegon’s gorget as he muttered to him darkly. “Either keep quiet on your own accord, or I’ll gladly silence you.”

Four white cloaks swarmed around them, and Otto Hightower nearly screamed, but the brawl reached an early end as the elder nodded rapidly at Aemond, and the latter loosened the hold he had over his bouchered vest.

“Seven Hells…” Aegon had cursed, mumbling lowly whilst feeling his neck for any sores, “Didn’t know it was such a delicate subject.”

Throwing a jaded look around the table, the One-Eyed Prince clenched his jaw.

He frowned deeply, and let out a tired hum at the notion of his sister’s face, so shocked and confused by his sudden outburst. As he felt his own grow numb, no doubt reddened by the scene he’d single-handedly played out, Aemond’s lips pursed to a tight, embarrassed line.

Whilst his hands itched him in shame, and his eye desperately avoided his mother’s, the young man instead focused on the erotic tapestries that adorned the stone-hedged walls.

His lone orb remained fixated on their arched positions, but, as his brother laughed again, Aemond begrudgingly returned his stare.

“Pardon me.” He muttered coldly, whilst giving a slight bow to the silent gathering, and, with one elegant but hurried movement, grabbed the full cask of wine, as he turned tautly to retreat to his chambers.

He swallowed thickly at his swift undoing, and chastised himself for losing touch with what was proper and allowed. His long fingers clasped painfully behind his back, digging at the flesh of his calloused palms, making him click his tongue in disarray; he notices, mayhaps too late, that all his blood had run elsewhere – thus the man takes wider steps to reach the confinements of his room, and lets out a choked-out breath, as the clogged air of his chamber finally hits his nose.

Methodical, aware and present, he sets the wine aside from him, pouring himself a generous cup, and fiddles with the expensive sheets that lay across his wooden table. His hand stumbles over the ink bottle, and the Prince levels out his rapid breathing, preparing himself to write again.

To My Lady,

A gulp of the liquid courage is all he needs to decidedly settle his red feather over the wilted paper.

Your lack of response to my latest confession irks me to no bitter end. I am a patient man, but I will not be denied entrance to your life. I will not have you refuse me the candour of communication.

Not when I spent my entire life waiting submissively by your side.

If your perpetual silence is owed to something I said, or something you’ve heard about me, I demand that you scorn me for it. Write a lengthy paragraph of all my near and far shortcomings, as you so often did when we were children. I promise to make a praying altar of that letter, grovel over it and at your feet, until my indiscretion should be forgiven.

Do not attempt to drive me away with petty ignoring. Such a feat is beneath you.

Another gulp of bitter wine is what allows his hand to flow more freely.

I confess that days and nights I have spent laying restlessly in bed, praying to the Seven to grant me passage to a single thought of yours. I ached to hear your words and feel your voice touch me so deeply. I am afraid I became brazen and unkind in the tortures of your absence.

I lest conclude that this should be a leisure letter to write – words should come easily, and in short, it should be simple for me to tell you how desperately happy I was to open your communication, and see your sweet and narrow writing.

Aemond halts his hurried musings, and encouraged by the hotness of the room, thinks back on the sinful indulgence he’d committed with her letter.

How he kissed over the parchment a million times thereafter, and how he licked at its bent corners, shuddering at the thought that her hand had ghosted over – perhaps even rested on – the marginal and flimsy paper.

He abjures his thoughts to the back of his mind, and lets out a low curse at the throb that forms over his missing eye.

A Prince should never bow, nor beg, nor relent. Yet here I stand, forever obediently at your beck and call, begging you to write again.

His patch fell heavily upon his skin. The nerves of his face stung the stimulated bit of skin, and Aemond huffed out an exacerbated breath, as he decidedly yanked the blinder away from his handsome face.

My duties at Court make it such that it is impossible for me to leave the proximities of King’s Landing. But should you make the mistake of not replying to me again, I’ll have no choice but to mount Vhagar and fly over to you myself.

… So reign your anger on me, should you need to. And just grant me with a quick reply.

Aemond.

Not even bothering to read it over, the man reached for the stamp she gifted him, inspecting its sapphire hilt with a scorned look over his face, and an angry furrow to his brow. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, as he passively set the hilt aside.

His next movements were slow, methodical – Aemond folded the paper in half, and poured the hot wax over it; grabbing the stamp, and lowering it on the paper, allowing the Targaryen seal to leave its mundane mark behind.

Harsh thoughts swirled inside his head, and the Prince lowered the parchment, promising to send word out on the morrow, and personally deliver his Lady the much-improved, insistent letter.

‘The best of friends for seven years,’ he scoffed bitterly to himself, recalling the oath they’d made each other.

He wouldn’t allow her to walk away. He wouldn’t allow her to forget about him. And he would force her to look at him, and explain the means of her reaping silence.

The gentle rays of morning wash themselves over his handsome features. The heatwaves of summer lick over his translucent skin, and the golden rays of daybreak thread themselves into his silver hair.

Aemond groaned in roaring anguish, as he ran a calloused hand up and over his throbbing cheek.

The discarded eyepatch, now resting on the floor. The littered parchments, still laying on his table. The lone letter, which had been written so angrily, just to be resentfully abandoned as his ire simmered down the night before.

Each object served as a dull and pained reminder of his lack of princely conduct, of the effects of the wine… of her brazen and determined silence.

The Prince bit over his lower lip, and fluttered his eyelid tightly shut. Enwrapped in his fine silks, and under the comforts of his chambers, he allowed his mind to lead to her again. To the image of her sprawled-out form, waiting for him inside his bed.

He sighs deeply, and questions his sanity – or lack thereof –, his patience, his virtue. What he wrote in his confessions was the fair and honest truth – In the few moments of solitude that he grantedly took for himself, the riverlander scarcely ever left his thoughts.

Aemond writhed into the mattress, and peeled the cover away from his heated body. He needn’t have looked down upon him to see the quaint trailing effect that his friend had had on him; but he did, and in the process, hastily pulled his throbbing cock out of his breeches, to begin to pump himself – mayhaps relieve the stress and anger that ruled over his very being.

A tender hiss escaped his lips, as his movements sped up in pace. The Crown Prince bit over his lower lip, and a shaky hand came to rest over his parted mouth, to dull the shameful and alluding sounds that escaped his burning throat.

He ran his thumb over the leaking tip, gathering up his seed in singular and striking swipes, guiding the clear droplets of liquid to trail towards his aching stones, and coat over his impressive length.

A low grunt slipped past his hand, and Aemond sank his teeth into the tender flesh, stifling down any further moan or laboured breath.

"F-Fuck… my Lady…"

His back shuddered from the blinding pleasure, and his free hand came to rummage under his pillows in the most desperate of searches.

His eye opened but for a moment, as his digits grazed the bent edges of the first letter she'd addressed him – the one he'd cherished with ample reverence, and secretly carried with him to every place he went.

His lilac orb trailed over the contents of the wilting parchment, which by then he knew by heart, but stopped at the very beginning of her scattered and bereft writing.

'To my dearest, Aemond' – either by crude mistake or heinous design, she'd flicked her wrist right after dearest, drawing out a bold and elongated pause, that hence consumed his wakened days.

It must have taken her no more than seconds to descend her quill upon the page, yet for Aemond, the mundane piece of calligraphy became his most burdensome slither of hope.

Before he could catch himself in his lustful daze, the Prince brought the letter to his lips, and kissed over the dried ink with devotion untoward, accelerating his ministrations as he pressed into it harder.

He pictured her alone and writing, enraptured by the dead of night, dressed up in her modest nightdress, and her hair loose from her bun. She must have made some able pauses, to glance up at the moon, perhaps, or sigh in puckered concentration.

Had she shared with him everything that was on her mind back then? Or did she hold her secrets in, choosing instead to only hint at all that they had left unspoken?

Did she also think of him, as he nightly thought of her, and in her attempts to clear her head, brought her hand out to her ruddy pearl? And did she dare to rub it gently as sinful fantasies of him emerged?

Did he plague her every thought – visited them, at the very least, nestling inside her mind, as she so oftenly did to him?

His unanswered plethora of questions only fed into his fire. His hips began to move languidly against his hand, and the familiar licks of release beckoned in his tired loins. But fucking his hand would never come close to how he envisioned fucking her would be like. How tight and welcoming her cunt must be, how she herself was so untouched, so pure, unaware of the pleasures he alone could make her go through.

How breathlessly she’d gasp against him, and leave her lascivious mark over his skin, in the form of clawed-out patterns, adorning his pale and muscled back. He would return her favour in kind, pressing himself deeper inside her, molding her warmth to the shape of his cock, leaving bruising kisses over her breasts and neck and claiming her – over and over, again and again.

His. His, his, his and his alone.

Propriety be damned, he’d have her. Ensure she’d never leave his bed thereafter.

She’d make for a fantastic mother, he caught himself thinking with abhorrence, and a new heat wave of pleasure enveloped his arched, unyielding back.

His despair reached new peaks of torture, as his mind led him to the memory of her crouching form, playing with Helaena’s twins, with such a pliant and kind smile upon her agonizing lips. How she’d chase them through the royal gardens, how the sun would catch her hair aflame…

Often during the long nights of winter, he’d shut himself inside his chambers, and touch himself repeatedly with the oils gifted from Aegon – with only that specific recollection playing tricks inside his mind.

Whilst elating her as his wife inside his head, the man slumped further into the bed, focusing on working his shaft up and down in blinding delight.

Her voice, her laughter, her handwriting and eyes – so wide and curious and always ready to look upon him, to really see him for who he was. She’d been the only one who never glanced directly at his scar. She’d focus in on his remaining eye, and listen to what he had to say. Intently. Remarkably so. She would remember his favourite book, the passages he’d read her last, and would partake in conversation – urging him to share his thoughts.

His climax neared him closer still, and Viserys’s second son focused on fucking his fist at a wilder pace than done before. Droplets of precum rolled down his cock, as forming sweat coated his brow. A final swipe of his rough thumb over the tip of his manhood, and a tender caress of his tightened stones was all it took for the man to drive himself over the edge, and feel the warmth inside his chest spread across his lower body.

He hissed painfully into the open letter, spending all over his chest and stomach and spilling her name from his parted lips.

He heaved out one breath after the other, and gingerly ran his hand over the written testament of her thoughts. He wanted to curse the Gods for making him so, for giving him the thirst for knowledge of a man fitting his station, but the crass bashfulness of a ruddy stable boy.

For the first time in his life, Aemond wished he were born different. A softer and more patient man, who’d find himself worthy of her; one more handsome, courageous and outspoken – a man who could express his feelings, without so much as a second thought, who didn't allow hesitation and carelessness to break his strengthened up resolve.

He ached to tell her all the things he’d left unsaid, when he saw her leave his sight. That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong – but not so wrong that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. That without exactly meaning to, he’d begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near.

That love within him laced with doubt. Longing with predestined pain. That he prayed night after night, obsessively, tentatively, that she’d grant him passage into her life again – that whatever held her from speaking to him would absolve itself with time, and he’d finally be free again.

Free to love her from afar, to revel in the bottled hope she’d grant him with the lightest touch, the faintest smile, and the most mundane of glances.

To delve further into the sweet delusion that mayhaps she'd learn to love him. That somehow he’d be deemed to be enough.

As he stood there, unmoving in his very bed, his warm seed rolled off his stomach, staining onto the silken sheets. A long sigh escaped his lips, and Aemond propped himself onto his elbow, cleaning the mess he’d left behind.

His want for her ran hard and deep, and the Crown Prince tensed once more, feeling his stomach tighten in such familiar hot knots of pleasure, that his cock went stiff again. He hummed in admission of his solitary fate and reached for the sinful oils with a shaky and extended hand. Through the musings of a quiet moan, he aligned his hips to his waiting hand, preparing to grant himself the second peak of his cursed and debauchered morning.

Alas, a lacklustre knock put an end to his self-indulgence, and Aemond stifled back a groan. He swallowed up his lust with haste, pushing himself back into his linen breeches and off the ruined satin bed – running a hand through the forming mats of his silver hair, to make himself seem more presentable.

Frustration and madness welled up within him, but he merely sucked in an irritated breath, whilst grabbing forth a shirt to adequately front himself.

“Yes, what is it?” His shaky voice barks out for him. He listens intently for any noise outside his door, and a great displeasure settles in his gut, as the voice of a servant boy echoes through the quiet walls.

“A letter for you, Your Grace. I beg your pardon for disrupting you –”

Readily he jumps out of his bed. And as if burned, as if possessed, Aemond opens the door with a readiness unperturbed, descending his anger onto the poor, expecting boy. The letter rests upon a silver platter, shaken with the messenger’s panicked voice. The Tully emblem that seals over a vast calligraphy drives the Prince to the brink of hysteria, and the Targaryen grabs a hold of the boy’s bouched shirt, pushing him further down into the hall.

“When.” He questions breathlessly, “When did the letter arrive.”

“L-Last night, Your Grace – near the hour of the wolf –”

A feral scowl settles over his sharp features. Aemond takes a step forward, tightening his fist over the cheap material, and calmly professes to the whimpering boy.

“For waiting so long to bring it to me, I should have you flogged and executed.”

The child's blabbering reaches deafened ears, as Aemond reaches for the letter crassly presented to him, and offers the youth a pressing look.

“Get out of my sight, before I should make the call of feeding you to my dragon.”

A clumsy courtesy is followed by a tantalised “Your Grace”. The echo of footsteps gets lost through the depths of the narrow hallway, and the man hums absentmindedly, before shutting himself inside his room again.

He wants to rip the envelope in a violent and perusing fashion, but his first instinct is to trail over the paper gently, to run his digits where her hands had been, to touch the edges of her writings with such a desire to be close to her that it scared him.

In a slow and gentle act, he peeled her seal away from the pesky parchment, and sucked in a hectic breath, as he scanned the contents he’d so longly dreamt about.

His hope shattered as rapidly as it came. And Aemond nearly ripped the letter, as his heart clenched painfully inside his chest.

To Aemond,

I thought about what I might say, and word it out in such a way that won’t leave you perplexed or angered.

I think it’s best for us to move along, and stop with these childish musings, that have hence occupied our time since I moved from the Red Keep.

I will forever cherish our acquaintanceship and hold your friendship in the highest regard. But I am a woman grown now – you, a man in all his right –, and we must both start to think about the survival of our families.

Please do not send me any more letters, as I won’t reply to them, and focus instead on your best interests.

The Lady Tully of Riverrun

His feet carried him close to his bed, as he grabbed a hold of her first note. Desperately, he began searching for differences – in the means that it was written, in the handwriting he’s known since his early adolescence, in the marginal and flimsy paper.

The sting of rejection fell heavily over his shoulders, but rationale trumped his crushed spirits – for there must have been something, anything inside the new communication, that would explain its fabrication.

It was impossible those were her words. She’d never been a jousting woman – never regarded her tens of suitors as less than wanting, for the simple fact she didn’t desire them. She would have let him down more softly. She wouldn’t throw away his company.

Contentment can emerge in the quietness of separation, but their friendship endured years of scorn from the gossips of the Court. Her good opinion of him just couldn’t have changed so suddenly.

A final reach entered his mind, as he folded the paper roughly, and settled it atop his table.

If those were truly her words within that letter, and she wanted him to keep his distance, she’d have to tell him to his face.

More than a week had passed since she’d sent him her first letter. A week since she’d awaited his reply, inquiring every messenger within the castle on the arrival of a straying raven, all the way from the Red Keep.

In spite of her avid efforts, each day repeated the same encounter without so much of a hitch – the scrawny boys shaking their heads, as they ceaselessly informed her that nothing addressed to her has reached the tower of the West Wing.

Since then she’d sent out two more hurried manuscripts, despite never once being graced with a reply. All hope seemed lost when she’d woken up that very day and was still met with livid silence.

Through all their years of rapid friendship, Aemond had never ignored her so. As she cut into her plate, the Lady gnawed at her bottom lip, thinking hard on what possibly could have happened to make him turn so cold towards her.

If her status quo were any different, she’d have taken the Red Fork road on horseback, to reach King’s Landing, and confront her oldest friend on the reasons for his dreaded silence.

But her grandsire had fallen ill, and little to no progress was made on his state of brittle health. Her duty thus assigned her to the Riverlands, despite her need of seeing him.

“You have been very quiet, sweet girl.” The husky voice of Grover Tully echoed through the silent chamber. The girl’s cutlery stilled upon the half-full plate, and her eyes raised from her lap, clashing with the stilling blueness, the knowing assessment of his own.

“Apologies, grandfather,” She uttered rapidly with a forced smile upon her face, “My mind was otherwise engaged.”

“As it has been for the past week.” He concluded with a quirked-up brow. The softness in his gaze enveloped her, giving her a rapid sense of security, and her grandfather coughed in the back of his hand, drawing a pattern over the motifs of their tablecloth.

“I suppose I miss some aspects of King’s Landing. I have spent most of my youth there… – though the Riverlands are just as beautiful.” She was quick to intervene.

“Is King’s Landing all that you miss, or is it a certain boy from there?”

Her bright orbs widened with her grandfather’s suggestive tone, and her cheeks reddened in place, as her voice denied it brashly, “Certainly not, I – Aemond and I are friends.”

“It might seem like a long while has passed since then, but I’ve also been young once.”

When her reply was met with sarcasm, she swallowed thickly and drove on, “We are… really good friends, but that is all.” Once again, her stare dissolved, “Though… I’m not sure we’re exactly friends anymore.”

A knowing look adorned his face, and Grover turned his attention to the family crest above their heads. He took a while to pounder, thinking longly on a vast reply, but he eventually nodded to her, and graced the child with an unperturbed, brilliant smile. “I’m sure the Prince is very busy – as are you, my sweet child. Men, and young men especially…” He muttered the latter of his teachings, “Aren’t exactly prone to sentimentality. Not in the way that women are.”

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as his words rang in her ears.

But not Aemond, she wanted to say. He was hardly like the other men she knew – he could be kind and good and comforting. He cared for her, and for their friendship. He wouldn’t just ignore her, just for the sake of not being overly attached to writing.

Although she couldn’t possibly say such a thing – for then her grandsire’s teasing would have been a certain. The girl made herself busy cutting up a piece of meat in carefully drawn-out halves, until she beckoned a reply.

“Indeed. … You’re right, I should stop being so concerned.” She strained herself to answer him. The older man hummed disconcerted, and returned upon his plating. They continued eating in silence, till he mauled himself to tell her.

“... I know how hard this is for you. But our family depends on you. I had to bring you back to Riverrun, to get the other Lords used to the image of a woman in our ancestral seat.”

“Gods, of course, grandfather – and for that, I’m more than thankful.”

Grover raised a shaky hand, and cut her off with a gentle smile, “You do understand… as much as we both hate the idea, I’ll have to soon match you with someone.”

She gripped the goblet of wine before her, and wet her lips with the bitter liquor. “... Of course I do. It is my duty.”

“Your claim will be stronger with an able man around. And if the Gods are good and you also bear a son…”

“I know.” She sighed into the ample cup, “My claim would be thus undisputed.”

“Aemond was not the right match for you.”

The girl bit over her lower lip, wanting to both negate her feelings, and contest upon his honoured values. But she simply nodded to the greying Lord before her and offered a lacklustre smile.

“Perhaps a change of scenery will do you good. I was thinking that you might like the Reach better than the Riverlands... Lyonel Tyrell is an especially kind and thoughtful host.”

A relocation was the last thing on her mind, no doubt, but the Bliss of Riverrun turned her attention to the latter of his eversion.

“Visit the Reach? You think of marrying me off to the boy of Highgarden? … He’s not yet fourteen.”

Silence washed over their council.

“Boys grow swiftly into men. I'm assured he'll be a good one for you."

“He’s a child.”

“You’re seventeen.”

“It still makes for quite the difference.”

“You won’t have to mother children until he’ll also come of age. It gives you three more years of freedom – other ladies would kill for a faction of what you have.”

“I don’t like the finality of your words."

A long and pressing breath beleft his pale and tired lips.

“I couldn’t send you to the North. Jason Lannister has no sons. The Greyjoys are ghastly savages.” As he presented her his trail of thought, Grover Tully shook his head, “And the Targaryens…”

“You’re childhood friends with King Viserys. A match would not fall outside our rank." She slipped and added restlessly, much like a frail and foolish child. Even before he could answer her, his granddaughter raised her hand, as she brushed off her latter thought. “A succession crisis will ensue.” The young woman muttered in his stead.

“I’m old – I’ve seen disputes start for much less. But here we’re talking of the Iron Throne.”

“You think a war is in its midst.”

A cutting silence washed over them. Grover lifted first from the dinner table and breathed in an anxious breath.

“I pray for the sake of the Realm that such a thing will not take root.”

The languid fires of their threshold illuminated her conflicted face.

“Then it’s a good thing Aemond didn't bother to reply to my letters.”

For but a second, Grover’s face was etched with guilt.

“We all have to protect our own.” Sometimes the means to do it are less honourable than we'd wish to.

For all that was worth on that rousy and portentous night, her fate had been agreed upon. And ever the loyal and oppressed servant, the young lady of the Riverlands left with the first callings of dawn, for the impetuous and striking gardens, which were smugly kept inside the Reach.

She would then leave, with her soul and heart all torn to pieces – yet still completely unaware that she’d never see Aemond again.

Never, at the very least, to how she’d known him to always be.

His wide and calculated steps led him to the stronghold’s gates. So easily it came for him to pass the cluttered training grounds, and disregard Ser Criston Cole with a mere shake of his head.

Above all else, he thought it then, he needed to feel his love again. He needed to hold her near once more, and ask all the outlandish questions he endured inside his head, counting for so much of his weakened days. He needed to reach a resolution, after being disregarded for so long. He needed the closure that her voice could offer him, that her mouth would utter out – that this had all been a grave mistake on her behalf, that the note never belonged to her, that she loved him as he loved her, and had merely been scared of it.

His morning session could very well await him, as he so viciously awaited the perfect chance to get away.

Two days away from the arrival of the pesky letter, Aemond had finally managed to slither unperturbed from his neat and tidy prison. Neither his mother nor grandsire had caught him in the act of it, Aegon had been too drunk to notice him dress up for a morning ride, and Helaena had solely clicked her tongue and scowled at him.

As he anxiously secured the belts of his dragon’s saddle, the man hummed in disarray – Riverrun was but a short flight away, but the despair he felt to hold her inside his arms again trumped over his better senses.

With any luck, he figured, she should still be found in bed. His love had never been an early riser, and she loathed getting out of bed in the damning morning light.

He didn’t waste time figuring out pleasantries to share with Grover – much less the words needed to explain his unprompted visit.

His sole purpose was to get to her, ask for her hand, make her his wife and forever be done with it.

He had the biggest claim to her – a Prince bonded with the largest dragon in the world, the one who’d seen and grown with her so many years inside the Keep.

The command of flying was given to his formidable dragon, and the Prince took off for the Trident's three heads.

Hopefulness emerged with unforsaked determination – but as his actions would dictate him from then on out, his efforts would be all for nought, torn apart in stinging vain.

Perma Tag-List: @welcometothelioncage

Specific Tag-List for the Fic: @howyouloveyourdragon @diamantesprincess @carriellie

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond the kinslayer #hotd aemond #yandere aemond

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aldryrththerainbowheart · 1 year

Text

Guts NSFW alphabet

Fandom: Berserker

Note: I don't even what this is. Feels kind of half-assed compared to my other works. No, I will not apologize for the picture.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Not really good with aftercare. Asks you if you’re good and that’s it. You have to tell him if you need some extra help. If you’re a clingy type you have to grab him and bring him close. At times he’s feeling vulnerable he holds onto you after sex on his own. Guts us flexible in these things and like everything else in the intimacy department, he needs to ease into this. Some times, when he uses sex as a trauma dump he clings to you almost desperately, and you learned to take it in stride.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Certified ass man. Guts like to look at a cute butt and likes to hold onto it even more. Drive-by smacks to the butt once you’re a couple. Likes to tap your ass from time to time to show affection. The bigger the better. Also loves your hair, long or short it doesn’t matter to him, but if it’s fluffy, the better. He likes to bury his face in them when no one is looking and take in their softness and your scent residing in them. Speaking of softness, Guts likes to absentmindedly play with your hair and ran his fingers through them when you’re sitting next to him or talking to him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Guts comes in loads, so you better be prepared that there’s gonna be a mess. Although the messiness is what turns Guts on. Watching you covered in his cum does things to him. If he could choose, he likes to cum on your stomach and thighs.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He ponders from time to time what would it be like if Casca were to join the two of you, but he never voiced this thought of his around in fear of what reaction it would provoke in both of you. It just so happens that the two most important people in his life happen to be both very attractive and they get along quite well either. On your travels, there were many situations where the three of you were forced into positions that are more than friendly. Sharing lodging, rooms in a bathhouse, treating each other’s wounds and warming each other up whilst sleeping outside. It’s times like these when the line between lover and friend gets muddled.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Guts do not crave sex that much he doesn’t feel the need to experience sexual intimacy often, nor does he feel curious or want to experiment. I headcanon him as someone who cannot have sex without assessing it with intimacy and vulnerability. Probably has one or two partners in a lifetime.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

he’s a ‘let me hit it from behind’ type of guy. Occasionally he likes to do it as you lay on your side. He also likes when you wrap your legs around his waist as he’s carrying you while simultaneously thrusting into you. He’s always open to trying new positions but for the most part the man knows what he likes and how he likes it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Yeah, haha, no. Guts is as goofy as a piece of concrete. He does, however, appreciate a goofy partner. In and out of the bedroom. Don’t ask him why, but he always felt naturally drawn to cheerful and whimsical people, out of nothing more than wonder. Things in a bedroom can get a bit too intense with him, and not the good kind. It’s good when he has a partner who can lighten things up.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

You probably need to have a talk about The bush between Guts’ legs. I headcanon him as way hairier than he’s portrayed in manga and it gets worse (better?) as he gets older. When you nag him enough, Guts tells you gay or sex worker to groom himself down there (like wtf man??).

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

To the surprise of many, sex is an intimate affair for Guts. For him it’s a moment of great vulnerability, hence one of the reasons he avoided it for most of his younger years. It’ll surprise his partner how intense Guts is during these moments.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Occasionally rubs one out to let out some steam. He’ll start to masturbate more once there’s someone on his mind. Considering how long it’ll take him to confess and admit to himself and everyone involved that he has feelings, there’ll be a long ass period of his life when he spends his nights fucking his fist. To the point where one of his mercenary buddies will tell him to fess up and confess already cause they’re running out of bedrolls and rags that are not crusty, which will earn them a punch in the face.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Say it with me. Size Kink, Size Kink, Size Kink! Guts likes the fact his partner is shorter than him way too much. Most people are shorter than him but if there’s a considerable difference…ufff. You can’t stand how smug he is about it. Overall, not much of a kinky guy. His bedside manners are as simple as other aspects of him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

With his occupation, Guts learned not to be picky about where he fucks. As long as there’s not someone right next to you and can’t watch, he’ll do it anywhere. He doesn’t mind if you want to do it in bed only.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Touch him, it’s that easy. Guts is a simple man. A few well-aimed words and touches is enough to get him going. The man gets literally hard with an order. Glide your fingers along his collarbone, bite his lip, bite his neck. God please, bite his neck. Also, caressing his thigh gets him going easily, to the point where you cannot put your hand there in public, or else he’s gonna have a problem. Once you were sitting next to each other and you placed your hand on his knee. You didn’t even want to start something, just to touch him. He didn’t pay any mind to it, not even when you unconsciously moved that hand up and slowly unassumingly petted his leg. Until he had to stand up and noticed the massive tent in his pants. You never let him live that down.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Hitting, injuring, or insulting his partner. He has a serious problem with degradation. It’s too triggering and personal to him. Being submissive to his partner doesn’t sit well with him either. He naturally takes a dominant role in most life situations.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

At first, Guts preferred to have you suck him off rather than another way around. Again, he perceives kneeling near someone’s crotch as subservient and he’s not used to that role. Not to mention you look so good with your mouth licking up his length. He would watch you all day if he could. When you go down on him, Guts is surprisingly gentle. He knows there’s a lot to deal with in terms of his size, so he lets you go at your own pace. Usually has a hand petting your hair or holding your neck. When he gets close, he uses that hand to push and pull you on his length the way he likes. As mentioned, Guts preferred to receive rather than give, unsure how he would feel about putting his mouth on his partner. However, once he put his fingers, staining with your juices in his mouth. After that, he got more curious about tasting you. Now, he does it almost like an afterthought, a means to kill time constructively and pleasurably. You could be anywhere, lying under the night sky in the forest with other mercenaries, at the royal court during one of their festivities, out in the woods hunting, when suddenly Guts would look at you, something sparking in those dark, dangerous eyes. The next thing you know you are pressed against the nearest flat surface, desperately trying to muffle your moans as Guts ravages you with his mouth. He likes to overstimulate, just to bully you, and always ignores your protests and pleas with a sadistic grin.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

There’s nothing quite like good, hard fucking after a battle. Generals and other mercenaries Guts met said this often, and he has to agree with them. There’s just something about pressing you down on bedroll, the adrenaline of his most recent victory pumping through his veins, still riled up from all the fighting. Sometimes you had a little trouble walking the day after, and I say the day after because you won’t be able to do anything after Guts is done with you. The swordsman is not completely merciless though, he knows he’s big and strong, so he makes sure not to completely brutalize you, but anything besides that is game for him. Throwing you on his cot as he wrestles you down, your hands above your head or your ass in his hands as he lifts the entire bottom half of your body to meet his hips. After that be prepared for hours he pounds into you, pushing you around the bedroll. Other times, sex with Guts is a lazy languid affair. You were taken aback the first time he’s taken you like this. It dangerously resembled making love, although you’re sure he would vehemently deny it. His hips rolled into yours with unhurried passion, his lips finding yours every time you keened into his mouth, his hand never leaving yours the whole time.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Guts sees them as a quick way to let off some steam and calm his mind. As long as you are at least partially covered before someone’s eyes he’s game for it anywhere and anytime.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Guts is pretty vanilla in this. He does not feel the need to experiment in the bedroom or discover new things in the bedroom. He thinks it’s overly complicating something that is meant to be simple fun.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

This man is a beast. There’s no stopping him when he’s in the mood. You better be prepared to handle five rounds minimum. If you leave it after the first orgasm, he wouldn’t demand anything of you, but he’ll still feel that thrum in his blood, indicating that he’s far from done.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not big on toys. Again, he’s not partial to any enhancements and tricks during sex but if his partner wants to try them, he’s willing to try.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The man has a bit of a sadistic streak. He likes to push you past your limits. To see you writhe and whimper while you try to babble out pleas and demands, it’s cute honestly. You think you can intimidate him, little thing? Well, if you struggle and put up a fight even better. He’ll make you pay for it double twice as much.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Mostly just grunts and growls kind of guy. He holds in his sounds a lot, you have to put in extra effort, but it’s worth listening to his throaty groans. He even makes an effort to muffle them by kissing you or burying his face in your neck.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Guts don’t sleep with a person unless there’s some sort of connection. He doesn’t have to love them, just like them enough to let his guard down. He honestly considers sleeping with total strangers weird, and dangerous.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Girl, if I tell you this man is packing some heat…The guy is well over seven feet, of course, he’s no sucker. He’s over eight inches and a grower. Thick straight and meaty, skin darker than the rest of him. It doesn’t matter how experienced his partner is, there’ll always have to be a little prep.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Guts’ sex drive is reasonably high, but he doesn’t really feel needy for sex unless there’s someone for him to mess around with. His drive is connected to his mood. Strong emotions, not necessarily positive ones, can enable him into a state where he looks for an outlet for them. Mans gotta learn some healthy coping mechanisms other than blowing his partners back out.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Considering that he’s often using sex as an outlet and a way to calm down, Guts fall asleep quickly afterward. Oftentimes you rolled over for some pillow talk and found him snoring loudly. Other times he either backs quietly in the afterglow while he lets his mind wander.

#berserk anime #berserk manga #guts berserk #berserk #berserk x reader #guts x reader

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kyojurismo · 1 year

Note

Emergency r.

Hello! Could I request how would Giyuu, Muzan and Douma react to getting caught about to have sex or in the middle of it by your parents? I thought about something funny and kind nsfw to cheer me up a bit, like poor parents. I think a modern setting could work better (?) idk😓

Thanks for what you do for us and take care💓

▸ ANSWERING. hello anon! i’m sorry it took me longer than expected, i wasn’t really in the mood to write for it & i’ve had a kinda bad day on my own so. i wanted to thank you for your kind words and once again i apologise for the delay <3

▸ FANDOM. kimetsu no yaiba

▸ CHARACTERS. giyu tomioka, muzan kibutsuji & douma (upper rank two) x fem!reader

▸ RATING. nsfw

▸ WARNINGS. modern au! smut, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid guys), um tiny bit of degradation, getting caught, not proofread

GIYU TOMIOKA

you were back from college for a while and your boyfriend decided to pass by, taking the opportunity.

you knew it was risky. you didn’t knew when your parents would be precisely back but you wanted to do it anyway.

giyu trusted you, of course. that’s how you two found each others on your bed. your hands tightly holding to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, the sounds filling your old bedroom were your moans, his grunts and the smacking of skin on skin.

“fuck— missed y-you so much,” his low voice filled your ears for a moment, followed by a whine. the way he was thrusting into you felt amazing, the stretch was too good; you missed feeling this close to him.

“i’m so close, baby. oh shit— giyu!” you arched your back, your walls tightening around giyu’s cock, who started twitching while filling you with his cum. you two came together… right in front of you parents.

when you tiredly glanced at your open door, you almost screamed and tried to desperately cover you both. “mom!” your cheeks were so red and you noticed giyu tensing up and he struggled to move and cover himself as best as he could.

your parents closed the door, shouting apologies and a series of sorry for interrupting. you covered your face with your hands and sighed.

“i think i-i won’t show up for a while,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling in shock. you turned to him, “what— you’re so dramatic, i’m sure they got caught at least once in their life… they’ll get over it.”

“plus, they can’t really hate you for making me cum,” you winked, making him blush even more if possible. you bursted out laughing and giyu’s chuckles quickly followed, fortunately.

somehow, you were more concerned about your boyfriend than your parents.

MUZAN KIBUTSUJI

your parents had a spare key of your apartment, just in case. you invited them over for dinner, so you could let ‘em meet your boyfriend.

what you weren’t expecting was how they would actually meet him for the first time.

your hands were gripping the back of the couch, holding you steady as muzan fucked you from behind. his hips were thrusting into you slow but hard.

“i want more! please,” you cried, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. “what a needy slut, you can’t get enough of this dick huh?” his voice went straight to your core, your arousal kept gushing around him. “look at how wet you are, shit— keep taking it like a whore.”

you arched your back while he finally started moving faster, his dick hitting all the right spots inside your warm channel. your whines became louder when he randomly spanked your butt, sending shots of pain through your body followed by those of pleasure.

“hey honey, we’re her— oh my god!” your dad’s voice snapped you out of your dazed state. “d-dad!” you pushed muzan back and looked for something to cover yourself. they were quick to turn around, giving you some privacy. “oh god,” you whispered, embarrassed.

“well, good evening,” muzan glanced at them, his hips covered by one of your blankets, a shit eating grin on his flushed face. of course he wasn’t embarrassed.

“quit it,” you muttered and slapped his chest, a bit sticky with sweat. “i was just welcoming your parents.”

DOUMA

you asked your friend to leave the dorm room so you could have some private time with your boyfriend, coming from another college. you were grateful they accepted without hesitation.

but you forgot your birthday was the following day and your parents wanted to surprise you by coming and take a cake to celebrate together, even if it was a small thing.

“i missed you so much, petal,” douma’s hands were caressing your hips, staring up at you. your breasts swayed with every movement, and he found it hypnotising. you were so beautiful sitting on top of him, riding his cock.

“m-me too baby,” you whimpered and kept jumping on his lap, his head hitting your cervix repeatedly making you gush hard around him. you moved your hands to rest on his chest and started moving with a bit more desperation, seeking the approaching orgasm. douma simply watched you, amazed and in love.

“that’s my girl. you’re close, aren’t you?” he moved one of his hands between your legs and he used his fingers to circle your throbbing clit, adding extra stimulation. “oh fuck! i’m close, don’t stop!” your voice trembled as your body was filled with jolts of pleasure, you arched your back.

“fuckfuckfuck! i’m—” you stopped talking when you came hard around his dick, your walls convulsing around him. douma grunted and thrusted up into you to guide you through it, his hands gripping your hips so tightly.

the door opened soon after and your mom almost dropped the bag with the homemade cake, your dad mentally passed out multiple times. “h-honey…” she tried to speak, trying to avoid the scene in front of them.

“mom!” you squealed and pulled a blanket closer to hide yourself and douma’s hips. he giggled under you, his hands still on your waist. “have you ever heard of knocking?!” your face was burning with embarrassment while douma sat up and made you moan lowly due to him moving, still seated inside of you. “w-we wait outside, let us know when we can come in,” your dad exited with your mother and closed the door, their voices were full of embarrassment.

“fuck,” you placed your forehead on douma’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “oh baby, they ruined it for you?” he muttered, smirking. “you’re– how can you not be embarrassed?” you glanced at him, noticing he was as lively as usual. “you’re the only thing on my mind, i don’t care about the rest,” he simply shrugged before kissing you passionately.

you momentarily got lost in the kiss, caressing his warm cheeks. but then you remembered your parents were right outside the door and you pulled back, starting gathering yourself. “try to seem ashamed for at least five minutes,” you muttered to your boyfriend, who nodded while holding back a laugh.

▸ BEFORE LEAVING. reblog and comments are super appreciated. thank you for reading guys, have a nice weekend <3

#📂 — writing !!#giyuu tomioka x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #douma x reader #kny giyuu #kny muzan #kny douma #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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ystrike1 · 8 months

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I'm in Love with Mr. Hanabusa's Mouth - By Taketa (7.5/10)

I'll save you from your stalker boyfriend! You can move into my house! You can just wear my clothes! You don't need to pay rent! I'm sorry, I was waiting for you to break up with him! I was hoping that you didn't love him! I was waiting! Don't worry I'm better than him!

Himari is a pushover. She has only ever dated one man. A cringe alpha male possessive guy named Shuhei. He knows what he's got. Himari is smart, gorgeous, and she makes good money. She's also easy to manipulate, and her mother is an awful sexist who is guaranteed to suck up to the husband she chooses. Himari is the perfect wife for a bad guy.

Shuhei isn't the RIGHT kind of bad guy.

Himari breaks up with him.

Hanabusa, her handsome coworker, finds out everything reaaaallllyyy fast. Like suspiciously fast. He's been watching Himari. He knows her mom is kind of an abusive shitrag, but he didn’t know if Himari loved Shuhei.

She doesn't, so he literally pops up behind her.

You see, evil mommy and evil ex have teamed up. Shuhei wants to marry her. Her mom agrees. She thinks her own daughter "isn't allowed" to break up with the successful boyfriend the family approves of.

Ewwwwwww.

Hanabusa saves her butt. She can't go home, because she lives with her mom. She's not very independent because of Shuhei.

Hanabusa spoils her in every way, so she can't live without him. No rent. Lots of cute clothes and good food. She gets the innocent romance she never got to have in high school, because Shuhei pushed her into a committed relationship so fast.

Every time she cooks for him in his house he takes a picture of the food.......um.........ok freak.

Also this.

After he moves her in he immediately tries to break her shell. Himari thinks she's unworthy of love, because her mom has sucked the joy out of her.

They go on dates.

She gets used to happiness.

She fights back when mom calls to slut shame her???? Mom finds out that she has a potential new boyfriend, who she is much happier with, and this is her reaction.

Her mother is definitely the kind of woman that thinks girls must marry the first man they bang.

Ewwwwwwww.

Shuhei threatens Hanabusa with a BS lawsuit. Himari is strong enough to run away now, but she's too nice to cause trouble for Hanabusa. Not when he's been so kind and sweet.

She has to stop Shuhei.

Plot twist ahead.

Himari ruins Shuhei's reputation. She goes to his company dinner, and she shames him in front of his employees for his stalking. She says she has already broken up with him, and he needs to leave her the hell alone. It doesn't matter if he uses mom to force a connection with her. She's going to cut ties with mom, until he's gone for good. No contact until then. She's an adult with her own money, and she's living safely with her lover.

She doesn't need them.

Girlboss.

There's some more possessive cuteness. They officially start dating after the BS lawsuit vanishes. Himari calms down. She doesn't have to go home and get abused by her mom anymore. Marriage isn't something she's afraid of anymore.

Hanabusa attacked at the right time, and he helped make a happy end for both of them.

#I'm in Love with Mr. Hanabusa's Mouth #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended

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oldtvandcomics · 4 months

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The Lucifer/Alastor rivalry is so fun, because, well, Hell's Greatest Dad sing-off, but also, while they have strikingly similar designs, Alastor is much, MUCH better at being satanic than Lucifer is.

First of all, they really look VERY similar. In a show where every character has such a unique design, I remember feeling disappointed the first time I saw a picture of what Lucifer would look like, because it was so similar to Alastor. Same general shape, same coat, they even both have a staff of some kind. Only of course, if you were to remove all the apple, snake and radio elements from their costumes and show this picture to someone who doesn't know Hazbin Hotel and ask which of the two is the Devil, they would definitely pick Alastor. He is taller, wears dark red instead of white, and his ears look like horns.

It goes even further. Among all demons, Alastor is by far the most demonic. When he transforms he really becomes absolutely monstrous. Lucifer meanwhile is angelic.

Within the story, Lucifer doesn't do much, especially not any Devil activities. He's just trying to dissociate from his depression by making rubber ducks. Meanwhile, Alastor is the one who is working hard on gaining power, he is the one manipulating people, killing those who get in his way and chaining souls to himself by making deals. He is the one who uses his political connections to get Charlie an army at the end, and despite not being able to kill Adam, he does a very good job holding his own against him.

Hell's Greatest Dad was not about being Charlie's father figure, it was about Alastor trying to take Lucifer's place. Quite literally. "Can you butt out of my song!" "Your song?! I started this!" "I'm singing it, I'll finish it!" Yeah, so this is at the same time about 1) the literal song they're singing, 2) Charlie's life, and 3) Alastor taking Lucifer's place by pushing him to the side.

I still don't know why Alastor decided that picking a fight with Lucifer upon sight was a good idea, but, like, we can all agree that he is aiming for his place, mostly by getting Charlie to depend on him. Which is also what his line in Ready For This was: "She's filled with potential that I could guide / Stick with her you'll be on the winning side!"

Many people theorize that Alastor is the final bad guy in the show. I don't think so, he is WAY too likeable. He is, however, firmly on his own side, and will go against Charlie if he thinks that he'd benefit from it. And then switch back the last moment, obviously. He panicked now about being too kind, next season, he's going to try and be more ruthless, try to stop caring about the people he clearly started to consider his friends. But he has to end up on the side of the heroes for the audience to be happy. Villains need to be destroyed, we do NOT want Alastor to be destroyed.

No, in my opinion, he is going to take Lucifer's place as the Devil.

#no idea what Lucifer is going to do but he clearly doesn't want to actually rule Hell #put him in charge of redemptions and he'll be MUCH happier #meanwhile Charlie will be obviously Queen of Hell #with Alastor as her right-hand man #at least that's how I would write it #I'm looking forward to the next season #Hazbin Hotel #analysis #Alastor #Lucifer Morningstar #this was fun to write

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

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This is kind of random so if it doesn’t sound interesting or your to busy don’t write it, but can you write a head cannon or fic about a female reader (preferably daughter of Poseidon) living on the run with Luke, annabeth, and Thalia. Maybe she is the same age as Thalia, so they were really close (also because they were forbidden kids). Thank you

-🐬

✮⋆˙ oh, i'm just a kid - oh, i'm no longer a kid; platonic! luke castellan, thalia grace, and annabeth chase x daughter of poseidon! reader blurb

content: platonic! luke castellan, thalia grace, and annabeth chase x daughter of poseidon! reader blurb warning: could be seen as minor angst towards the end but not really author's note: i thought this one was going to be a pain in the butt to write, but it actually wasn't that bad!! also, im not a huge fan of like how the content is tagged but i can't think of a better way to do it so this is the jumbled mess of exclamation points we get.

somewhere deep in the words of pennsylvania, four children took up camp. well, four demigod children who had just got done fighting off beasts you couldn't even begin to imagine. thalia and luke, two of the eldest in this mishmash group, had left to scout the area and hopefully bring back some food. which means you were in charge of the clever little annabeth.

"hey, wanna play a game?" you asked, like you always did, and annabeth looked up at you with an eager glimmer to win in her eyes. and you silently prayed the best for whatever guy she ended up with, knowing he'd need it.

"this is a game of concentration. no repeats or hesitation. category issssssss," you drew out the last words, earning some giggles from the little girl sitting criss cross across from you. you beamed a smile and wrinkled your nose at her before spewing out that the category was sea creatures.

"shark!" you started, clapping your hands against hers to signify the start of her turn.

"scyphozoa!" annabeth cheered, quickly clapping her hands against yours despite the face you pulled.

"a what-y what-y what?" you asked and annabeth expertly rolled her eyes.

"it's a jellyfish. and, by the way, you lose. you hesitated," explained annabeth, shrugging like this was normal and you laughed in disbelief.

"what- no, you said it's scientific name, that's not fair!"

"that's totally fair!" cried annabeth before a crunching was heard nearby, both of them instantly shooting up and producing weapons. you subtly took a step in front of the younger girl, more than willing to lay your life down for her.

"annabeth, stop cheating. you know y/n has no idea what the scientifc name for a jellyfish is," thalia mused as she and luke broke the clearing and joined the other two.

"yeah, stop cheating- wait a minute," you halted your words, squinting over at thalia for her slightly backhanded comment, which left the group reeling with laughter. from his bag, luke produce (non-golden) apples and passed them out while thalia ripped off pieces of the bread they'd been rationing since virginia. it wasn't much, but it was dinner to you guys.

not long after the sleeping shifts began, you and thalia having first watch. the sun had long since set on the woods, thalia and you having a perfect few of the starry night sky. you swallowed thickly, glancing behind to ensure luke and annabeth were asleep before turning to thalia, who already had her eyes on you as she had a feeling you wanted to speak.

"do you ever worry that we're running straight to our doom? that this camp will be the thing that gets us killed?" you whisper into the night air, struggling to see thalia's face in the dark but you could just barely catch the way she frowned in the moonlight

"for them? no. for us? every night," she replied and you nodded your head, turning back to look at the stars. both you and thalia were overly aware of how hard your lives would be as children of the big three. you found little comfort knowing you shared the burden with someone else, someone who deserved equally as much to be free of this burden - this life.

"look, shooting star. quick, make a wish," urge thalia before squeezing her eyes shut and mouthing the words of her wish. you're eyes locked on the shooting star before squeezing them shut too, thinking your wish over and over in your head. unknown to the both of you, you wished for the same things.

freedom for the other, even at the cost of themselves.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #thalia grace #luke castellan #annabeth chase

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eloquent-edits · 4 months

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Hello!!!!

I'm writing a rivals to lovers office AU and am in need of some inspiration. Can you please do a list of office AU prompts? I don't mind if they get suggestive.

Absolutely! (Also thank you for being the first person to request prompts :3)

Character A and character B have issues with their work computers at the same time, and the poor IT guy has to deal with their bickering while fixing the computers

The printer is constantly breaking and A can’t help but snidely remark on B’s struggle every time it happens

B critiques A’s work whenever they get the chance, claiming A needs to do better if they want to get up to B’s level (the criticism is actually kind of helpful, just poorly worded)

B’s desk is across from A’s, leading to stare-downs when the other seems to be slacking on work and eyebrow raises when personal calls are taken

A leaves anonymous sticky notes on B’s desk about office drama, rumors, and random news stories to see what sort of conversations B likes (B usually looks at these with confusion, throwing them away buT THEY KEEP SHOWING UP WHY)

In the company project group chat, A and B don’t acknowledge each other outside of emoji reactions unless it is necessary

They are forced to work together on a major project with much longer hours than they expected, leading to sleep deprived A actually being nice to B in the mornings (they share a quiet moment at the coffee machine)

B’s ex comes into the office as another company’s assistant, and A can’t help but be concerned at the grimace and pain in B’s eyes

A starts using the printer incidents to ask about B’s history and get to know them better

A celebration at work includes a happy hour, so B dresses up just a little more than usual and A cannot stop staring

B notices A is lingering around their desk more and teases them about wanting to take their spot (A definitely wants to take them in a fight right?)

A’s car won’t start in the parking lot, so B offers to jump it… it’s the first time seeing B less professional (let’s get those sleeves rolled up and a couple buttons loosened from the button-down)

The AC breaks while only a couple people are in office, meaning it’s up to A and B to try and fix it while waiting on maintenance, leading to B on a ladder and A most definitely trying to not stare at their butt

C, an older friend at the office, retires and throws a massive party where A and B get a little too drunk, and B accidentally compliments A instead of criticizing them (A doesn’t know how to process it and B refuses to acknowledge this ever happened)

After A openly disagrees with one of B’s ideas, B confronts them privately, getting a little too close as A is stubborn and standing firm (give me that tension you can cut with a knife, give me that turn away because otherwise one of them will do something they regret)

B finds A asleep at their desk one morning and can’t decide whether to wake them up for the meeting or to let them sleep longer because this is definitely not normal for A

Turns out A worked their ass off to get a major promotion, one that B was eyeing for a while, which makes B jealous and get a little snappy

A is shifted to another area of the office and an annoying coworker, C, takes over the old spot. B finds the change welcoming and unsettling (“They’re not here to bother me anymore…” “That’s a good thing!” “… Yes. I suppose you’re right.”)

B is called into A’s office to discuss another coworkers’ weird behavior, which gives A the opportunity to call B out on their behavior around A

“It’s like on day one of me working here, you put a note in your calendar that said to torment me whenever you could.”

“You’ve gone from criticizing everything I do to actually being somewhat nice and helpful and then right back to being an absolute prick! I don’t understand it at all. What changed? You still seem to hate me, so why be so kind? Why?”

B doesn’t respond with words, just by slowly reaching out to touch A’s hand and swiftly pulling them into a kiss (ideally B would explain more later but that’s up to you hehe)

#answered asks #prompt request #writing prompts #writing #prompts #prompt list #character dynamics #rivals to lovers prompts #rivals to lovers #dialogue prompts #imagine your otp #office aus #office au #also very sorry for the delay in responding!#it’s been a really hectic week #and the next two weeks are going to be just as insane

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blackswan446 · 3 months

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weeping mary

→ pairing: yan!jhs x reader

→ synopsis: the show must go on, right?

→ wc: 1842

→ cws: gun, reader gets hit in head and passes out lols

→ notes: despite the title this is not a religious story whatsoever lol it just has heavy religious allegories

theatre was an odd place. whenever a new show goes into production, you never really know who you'll end up being with for the next months of your life. you could get lucky, and end up with people who had a passion for the art and made the frustrations of props and memorization worth it. or, you could get the short end of the stick, and get stuck with the group of people who were made to watch shows, not participate in them.

more often than not, it's a mix of both. sometimes one group outnumbered the other, other times it was an even blend. and every single time, you could count on the two groups to butt heads. that's how it was here, in your little college theatre department, and normally, it wasn't that much of an issue. but this time it was not as easy. you, a lifelong lover of theatre and one of the more...theatrically challenged participants, paired up, occupying the two leading roles.

it wasn't like he was bad, but his recitations during rehearsals sounded just like that, recitations. like he was reading from a script, even though he had the lines memorized. they just failed to evoke anything deeper within you, they didn't spark the same emotions inside you as you felt with other people, even within your group. some of the performances you had seen felt so real you could've sworn the emotions they were portraying were real and raw, so clear you could reach out, touch them, and feel them yourself.

you felt bad for even thinking these things, since hoseok was such a sweetheart. he was extremely kind and he was making a clear effort, but theatre was just not his strong suit. maybe with practice, maybe with a lot of practice, he would improve, but as of now, you didn't have your hopes set high for the evenings ahead of you.

that's what you used to explain the twisted feeling in your gut as you sat in the fluorescent room. it was empty by now, the only things in there being the ghost of excited chatter and loose makeup powder hanging in the air. you could see your reflection through the fingerprints and dust covering the mirror, the costume and headpiece that adorned you almost distracting from the worried aura you embodied. the shine of the lights illuminated the front of your body, eliminating the shade and casting a saintly glow upon your figure. weeping mary, you thought, your own appearance reminded you of the weeping mary.

you were distracted from your own thoughts by a shadowy figure appearing in the doorway behind you. whipping around to get a look at the mystery silhouette, you were met with none other than jung hoseok himself. sighing, you greeted the usually-happy guy normally, though a discontented look rested on his face.

"[name], are you alright? you weren't out there with everybody else backstage, and i got worried." he asked quietly, his voice soft and kind. his costume fitted him well, the colors and cuts of the various articles of clothes suiting him better than you had imagined.

"yeah, i'm okay. i just wanted to sit alone for a minute. don't worry about me." you said feebly, eyes meeting your clasped hands. unconvinced, hoseok paused before his next question. "did something happen?" he said gingerly, the words coming out as if they were afraid of what you had to say. sighing, you shook your head. "no, nothing happened. i just don't feel great, i have a bad feeling about tonight." you admitted, looking at the shiny costume jewelry that sparkled on your fingers.

"bad feeling?" you didn't need to look up from your manicure to see the puzzled look on his face, you could hear it in his voice, the way he sounded more shocked than sympathetic. "...what do you think is going to happen?" he said carefully, like he was unsure of his own question. you shrugged your shoulders. "i don't know. i think it's just nerves." you lied. it was so much more than that, at least, that's how it felt to you. but what exactly were you supposed to do? drop out because of a random gut feeling and let everybody down? that wasn't an option, not tonight, not ever. the show must go on.

no words were spoken, rather, you felt a gentle hand touch your shoulder, so delicately resting where the end of the pink tulle fabric and your clammy skin met, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll that would break if the wind hit it wrong. "i get where you're coming from, [name]. but how bad is it really if things go wrong tonight? this is just one night out of our whole lives. we have so much ahead of us. do you really want to look back on your youth and remember being scared for nothing and not enjoying the ride?" he wondered, a convincing tone that was not present earlier now accompanying his voice.

he was right, you knew he was, but the validity of his point didn't release the knot in your stomach. but you weren't going to burden the poor boy with your existential crises, you couldn't, not after he had just tried to comfort you, not when you only had fifteen minutes until the show began. not now.

giving him a warm and grateful smile, and nodding as a show of understanding, you thanked him for his philosophical point of view, and the both of you made your way out of the room, hoseok looking significantly happy and pleased with himself. it took everything in you to replace his words with the hurricane of worry clouding your mind, and as you stepped out onto that stage, you ignored the screaming voice in the front of your mind, begging you to run in the other direction.

the show must go on.

time felt like it was moving through quicksand. act one was hard enough, you could barely keep up with your lines because of how on-edge you were the whole time. the only thing you had time or energy to do during intermission was throw back some cold water and hope for the best. having hoseok in your ear, both onstage and off, wasn't exactly calming your nerves. he was nice, as he always was, but what you really needed was to stew in your anxiety and work through it alone.

the further you spiraled into your madness, the more the door of hope squeaked shut, but as the end of act two rolled around, you thought you saw the light at the end of the tunnel, a sliver of yellow sunshine from behind the door. maybe you were just crazy. maybe nothing would go wrong, maybe you hadn't slept well, or were coming down with something, maybe

just maybe

everything would be alright.

if only your own desperation hadn't blurred the lines between the warmth of hope and the fires of hell.

you stood at the far edge of the stage, looking across to hoseok. something was different about him, something in the way he looked, there was a new passion behind his eyes that you had never seen before. even if it wasn't scripted, the look would have made you stop and stare all on its own.

"i love you, [c/n], i love you so much, for everything you've done for me." you paused dramatically, turning your back to hoseok as you prepared to make your final exit, "but i really hate you, for everything you've done to me."

that's when it happened. you were supposed to leave, it was only supposed to take a second. but he was faster.

"no."

you felt the familiar pit in your stomach return with a hungry vengeance. there was nothing else for you to do, but turn around slowly and roll with whatever the hell he was doing.

"no, [y/c/n]. you're not going anywhere. i have loved you for so long. since the day i laid my eyes on you, the day our hands met, and since the first time you smiled at me, i have been yours since then, and i will still be yours when time gives out and history ends and only the stars are left in this world. you are my heart, my soul, my brain, my absolute everything. the day i stop loving you, is the day that love dies. please, [y/c/n]."

speechless, unmoving, and heart pumping wildly, the only thing you could manage to squeak out was a weak "no". the look of passion from before, the same one that could have cracked a diamond, was gone. now he looked crazed, insane, as he stormed over to your trembling figure.

"that's not a choice. i've spent too long watching from afar. all my life, i've waited for someone like you to fall into my lap. i love you, [name], and i'm not taking no for an answer."

with that, he reached into the back pocket of his costume pants, and pulled out something shiny, something that glinted underneath the hot stage lights. the air in your lungs refused to exit, any sort of words getting caught in the back of your throat as you stared at the metallic gun held in hoseok's gloved hand. there was a loud gasp from the audience, and for a minute, you thought you tasted the sweet exlir of hope, but once you realized that people mistook this awful situation for a part of the show, you felt your heart sink onto the floor.

it was obvious by now that this wasn't acting anymore. this was a real thing, real emotions and a very real weapon in front of you. hell, that's why he sounded so passionate during his monologue. he wasn't speaking from a script, he was speaking from the deep and twisted cracks of his heart that you wouldn't have dreamt of existing. the irony wasn't lost on you, how someone like hoseok had turned out to be the best actor you had ever met.

all you could do was shake your head, your body too paralyzed in fear to do anything else. he chuckled, an amused smirk washing over his features, as if he knew this would happen. as if he had planned it to be this way. with an accepting look on his face and a sweet, strong kiss to your lips, and with that kiss, your fate was sealed. you didn't like it, nor did you want it, but the fear had turned you to stone, and all you could do was watch from a distance.

"'til death do us part, my love."

the only thing you could hear during those final moments of consciousness, the final moments of life as you knew it, as hoseok scooped up your collapsed figure and threw you over his shoulder, was the cheers and applause of an audience who had just seen the show of a lifetime.

#yandere bts #yandere hoseok #yandere jung hoseok #yandere bts x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere kpop #yandere kpop x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #fanfic #jung hoseok #jhope #bts hoseok #jhope x reader

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