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hxnbi · 1 month

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「 FALLING FOR YOU 」

— characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuta — contents: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, gn reader

synopsis: who fell first and who fell harder

ITADORI YUJI ➽ he fell first, and he fell harder

Let's be honest, this poor boy has gone through so much. And to have someone who reciprocates his feelings? He felt like he was on cloud nine when he learned that you thought the same thing; "I love you too, Yuji." So much so that he made you repeat it again and again until he was forcefully pulled away by Megumi and Nobara, as you were too overwhelmed by Yuji's... several confessions?—practically busy exploding in joy yourself to configure another thought.

Nothing in the entire world could be better than being with you for the rest of his life, and he made sure that you knew that there were no doubts.

Whatever or whenever it was, Yuji was at your beck and call. You may as well have compared him to a golden retriever-like boyfriend, because that was exactly what it was. He was so incredibly touched that you reciprocated his feelings, so much so that he wanted you to know for sure that he was devoted to you and only you. And in that regard, he indeed succeeded.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ➽ you fell first, and you fell harder

No one, not Gojo, Yuji, Nobara, or even yourself—would've ever expected you to fall in love with such an aloof person, that person being the stone that is Fushiguro Megumi. Something that intrigued you from the moment you met him. It was shocking, and honestly, even refreshing, to see Megumi smiling. His stoic demeanour in saying practically anything, regardless of its seriousness, and his piercing, borderline terrifying gaze hid a plethora of emotions beneath that impassive tone of his, and try as you might, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

But as much as Megumi loved you, he also kept his distance from you. And that pained you to think that perhaps Megumi really didn't care about you as much as you thought—that is, until you realized the reason for why. He just didn't want you to be in danger. He tried to keep you far away from him, but for that reason alone, you found yourself falling harder and harder for the boy who had captured your heart. All that he did, the danger that he put himself under, was for you. And before you even knew it, you found yourself hopelessly in love with the person who had now become the centre of your world.

GOJO SATORU ➽ you fell first, and he fell harder

At first, it was just a tiny crush. Perhaps even a little more. Because, let's be real, who wouldn't be at least somewhat attracted to the strongest sorcerer? At first, that's what you thought. There was no way that someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru would pay attention to an average sorcerer like yourself, right? Wrong.

As Utahime and Megumi would say with utter conviction, Gojo can be an arrogant bastard at times. He's aloof, confident, and charismatic, but he's also just an individual—just an everyday human being. You were the one who truly understood him. You loved him for who he was—not for superficial reasons the rest of his world saw, but because he was a guy whose heart was genuine.

And he found himself falling for you, truly. He found himself loving and appreciating every part of you. To have someone so genuine, so open, unlike him, forced to view himself as merely "the strongest." He felt as though he could be weak around you. He fell hard for you and only you, and that would never change. Anything less would be a betrayal of your love.

OKKOTSU YUTA ➽ he fell first, and you both fell harder

I'd like to think that Yuta, for sure, has thoughts that he doesn't deserve to have you. So he stares from a distance. Everything that he did, the life that he lived, was cursed to a degree that nobody saw when he dared to acknowledge. He thought that you didn't deserve that. But even as he muttered those words to you that day, you looked at him—not with fear, not with disgust, not even with pity, but with sympathy and love.

His vulnerability, even when he was at his lowest, was undeniable. But that made you even more determined to help him—to be that person that Yuta could, for once in his life, lean on without reservation. His timid yet endearing personality drew you in, despite the darkness that surrounded him. But, unbeknownst to you, he had already fallen for you.

Yuta was enthralled, captivated—enchanted even—by all the kindness you showed him from the very moment he laid eyes on you. The way you would act like he was just an average person, regardless of the circumstances. He loved you for who you were, and you were the same.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

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slughtt · 2 months

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thinking about finding out virgin!coryo has a hair pulling and mommy kink🙈🙈

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you guys would definitely be in a heated make out. you would be sat on his lap with him desperately grabbing at your hips. the make out would have started off as some innocent kisses while he was doing an assignment but shortly turning into something more.

he would just be so stressed out from the academy and trying to be nothing but perfect all the time, so letting you take the lead during kisses is quite common between the two of you. the kisses would be so so messy and desperate. coryo is practically forcing your hips to grind down on his borderline painful bulge.

your hands are grabbing him everywhere, fisting his shirt all the while leaving gorgeous purple and red marks all over his pale flesh. and once you start putting more force into grinding your clothed cunt against his erection he thinks he might combust with how fucking needy he is.

you guys are both moaning against each other, too caught up in how good it feels for the both of you to care about anything else.

"sh-shit baby" he would let out with a choked groan, hands gripping your hips so hard it's like he is scared you are going to go somewhere. and in all honesty he was holding himself back for the most part until your perfectly manicured hands tangled into his blonde locks and tugged.

the absolute force of your pull has his hips bucking up against yours and a fucking whine is spilling from his lips. you, obviously taken back by such a strong reaction pull yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. your hips are completely still now as he tries so hard to thrust his hips up into yours. but holy shit are you glad you pulled away because of how devine he looks.

his eyes are swirling with lust, his wide eyes looking up at you begging for more, neck practically purple, lips red and swollen. you want to poke fun at how desperate he looks is after a bit of grinding and hair pulling but instead you let out a giggle, whispering a quiet "yeah?" before you resume your movements against him.

before he can even process his embarrassment you’re back to leaving kisses along his chest and neck, grinding yourself against him even harder. his whimpering is so high pitched and soft you honestly could have mistaken him for a girl. you grip his hair again and give it an experimental tug, just to make sure he wants you to continue to tug at it. and he is shaking, letting his head fall into your shoulder, practically in tears at how horny he is.

"harder...please please" he gasps, gripping your hips to control your movements against his clothed cock. and who are you to deny him when he looks and sounds as pretty as he does right now. and so you pull again, slightly harder than before and you hear a "fuck mommy" leave his lips before he is pulling away from your shoulder absolutely terrified.

every bone in his body is praying that you didn’t hear him, but even he knows that you couldn’t miss something like that.

you lock eyes with him and his icy blue eyes are filled with tears. coryo is searching for an ounce of disgust or shame in your eyes once he realizes what he said. and when he find absolutely none he visibly relaxes. "it's okay coryo" you shush him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

coryo was too focused on his slip up he hadn't even realized how close he had become until it was too late.

"wait-wait" coriolanus pleads "i'm gonna...f...fuck" his words interrupted by the moans spilling from his beautiful lips. you are too caught up in your fascination of coryo that what he was saying hardly process in your mind. so you tug on his hair as hard as you can and bite down on his neck which has his orgasm hitting him with no warning.

his hands fly to your hips, pushing his cock against your cunt. cum floods his boxers as he all but cries into your shoulder, literally humping you like a fucking dog. "oh my god...that's so-fuckk mommy" he whines as tears fall down his face in embarrassment and cum soaks his boxers and your panties. his body shaking and twitching against yours.

he feels like he is cumming for an eternity and once he finally finishes, he releases his grip on you. pulling his face out of your shoulder he looks up at you, and you are obviously in shock because of how little you had to do to make him all worked up like that.

"i'm so sorry" he lets out but you just shush his self degrading up by giving him a peck on the lips, giggling because you knew you were going to have some fun with him.

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okay this isn't proofread so not too much on me ALRIGHT? but also be real with me right now bc i might just start writing fr bc the IDEASSSSS i have ughhhhhh

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exhaslo · 3 months

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Corruption Ch3

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

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Four months, twenty days until D-Day

Finally, it took you ten full days to understand your abilities and make your suit. It did feel somewhat shameful by how much of a struggle it was to get everything ready. You had to rely on a close friend to make your suit and beg them to not say anything.

You were finally going to start your life as a super hero. Your secret identity had to be top secret. Mainly, because you were afraid of how Miguel would react if he saw you. You loved the man, but you were terrified of his villainous nature.

"Alright, suit is kind of tight, but it will have to work." You whispered, staring at yourself in the mirror.

The suit was tight against your skin, showing off each of your curves, breasts and ass. It almost felt sexual, but what heroes in the past wore baggy suits? Unsure if you wanted to do that research, you knew that you needed something that won't get your snagged on a flag or something.

Patting down your skirt, you glanced at the zipper you had custom made in case for an emergency bathroom visit. Honestly, it made you chuckle since you thought of such a thing. Miguel would probably laugh at you if he ever found out.

"Alright, now for the scary part." You inhaled deeply.

Opening your window, you took deep breathes. You were terrified, but without this leap of faith, how were you ever going to bring Alchemax to justice? How were you going to show Miguel the light in his heart?

"I can do this." You whispered before shooting your web and swinging into the city.

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Miguel hissed lowly as he sat in his apartment. There were a million things going through his head. One of them being how to perfect his spider genetic splicing DNA. He wanted to create the ultimate human. The superior human race.

Unable to think in the comfort of his own home, Miguel decided to take a walk around the city. He did need to buy a few things anyway. As he left his penthouse, Miguel grumbled lowly as he avoided the people around him.

How disgusting. All of these regular humans trying to smile and cozy up to Miguel. None of them had what it takes to be at his level. Unless they were willing to place themselves on his metal table for experimentation.

"Miguel, you won't believe this." Lyla appeared on his watch. Miguel lazily glanced towards his AI,

"Won't know until you say it."

"There are reports of a Spider-woman swinging across the city. People are in shock and whispering that the age of heroes might be making a comeback." She explained. Miguel scoffed,

"I'll believe it when I see it. Don't bother me with such nonsense."

Age of heroes his ass. Miguel knew better than to believe that such a time would revive. As he made his way into his local well-off supermarket, Miguel couldn't help but wonder why such reports would come to be.

A spider-women none the less. Miguel hadn't experimented on any women yet and everyone he did had perished. As he grabbed a cart, Miguel hissed to his ignorant thoughts. He shouldn't allow his genius brain subcome to such foolishness.

"Ah!!!" Someone screamed.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Miguel glanced behind him. His eyes twitched as he saw a fire break out. Just his luck. Making his way to the checkout, Miguel ignored the people's screams, continuing his purchase.

"Sir! You need to leave! It's dangerous!" One of the workers yelled. Miguel just ignored them,

"Dangerous?" Miguel resisted a chuckle as he finished his purchase.

Right as he left, there was an explosion. His eyes widen as he felt the wind push him down. Surprised, Miguel let out a soft groan as he slowly got up. As he did, Miguel felt another wave push him back down.

"I got you!" A woman yelled out.

Furrowing his brows, Miguel saw someone approach him. He grunted, feeling himself being lifted up. Which was quite a surprise since Miguel was a tall and heavy man. Glancing towards the brave fool who came to his rescue, Miguel's eyes widen in shook.

"Spider-woman?!" He nearly gasped in shock. You smiled softly towards him,

"The one and only!" You chirped.

Miguel felt nearly flabbergasted as he observed you. The one thing he had been trying to recreate was right in front of him. There was a surge of emotions coursing through his body.

"Are you alright?" You asked, patting Miguel off as you escaped the building with him.

"Allow me to have a blood sample," Was the first thing Miguel said. You flinched, taking a step back,

"Haha, that's a....uh, unusual request, but I'll have to decline." You said, trying to hide your nerves. Miguel grabbed your shoulders,

"You don't understand. I've been trying to create someone like you for years. Please, I need to know how-"

"Perhaps if we bump into each other at another time, I can give you an answer, but I really must go. Take care of yourself and don't get hurt, okay?"

Miguel reached out to you once more as you swung away. The look in his eyes were one of desperation and frustration. How were you here? How did he not notice such a fine, perfect specimen in his city? This whole place belonged to him....

Including you.

Grabbing his items, Miguel hurried back to his penthouse. He needed to research on you. Miguel needed to find out more about you. Miguel needed you in his lab!

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Finding a good building to land on, you let out a small squeal. You had been swinging around doing little things here and there and finally, finally, you managed to do something heroic. Best of all, you had saved Miguel.

Trying to cover the blush on your cheeks, you recalled the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The look on his face was something else too. You've never seen him so shock, so amazed. If only he looked at you like that and not Spider-Woman.

"Mhm, but he just had to ask for a blood sample. I almost gave in too! I have to be careful!" You whined.

Sitting at the edge of the building, you glanced down at the messy, beautiful city below. You were going to have to get better at Super Hero stuff if you wanted to make any real change.

That, and you would have to control your emotions better if you ever wanted to change and heal Miguel. He was far too talented and smart to fall down the same fate as his father.

"I will save him."

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Miguel was on a man hunt. He had gotten Lyla to pull up anything on this new Spider-Woman, despite there not being much. He had to know who you were and where you came from.

Unable to retrieve much, Miguel decided to do things the hard way. He pulled up every single file on women who lived within or near the city. Miguel was determined to know who you were. Even if he had to do things the long and hard way.

"Let's see. Judging by her body, she is defiantly within the age ground of twenties to thirties. Let's start removing everyone else."

"Yes, sir." Lyla replied, shorting the age gap.

Miguel grunted since the list was still quite large. At least, whoever you were, you didn't cover your hair. Just a cute little mask that covered the top half of your face. Narrowing the list shorter, Miguel just inhaled since it was still a hefty list.

"Is speed dating out of the question?" Lyla asked with a grin. Miguel let out a rare laugh,

"Highly."

Wondering how to approach this, Miguel started to pace around his living room. He needed you. He wanted you. You were the key to creating the ultimate human race. If Miguel couldn't find you naturally, then he would have to make you come to him.

"I will make her mine."

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It was going to be another rough day at work. You had entered Alchemax with two large coffees in hand. Clocking in, you let out a heavy sigh as you made your way to Miguel's office. He had been blowing up your phone all morning.

"Miguel, could you maybe now tell me what's going on?" You asked softly as you opened his door.

"(Y/N), finally! We have a BIG day ahead of us!"

"We do?" You questioned as Miguel approached you, taking his coffee out of your hand, "Ah-Are we doing the seahorses?" You asked innocently.

"Ha!" Miguel chuckled darkly as he patted your head, "What am I to do without your blissful innocence."

"Awe, are we going back to spiders?"

"Always." Miguel hummed as he drank his coffee, "Have you heard about the new Spider-Woman in town?"

You felt a nervous sweat run down your back.

"I-I have! Was that...not your doing?" You asked, knowing that it sort of was, but Miguel didn't need to know that.

"No, and that's what infuriates me." He spat, placing his drink down, "I need to know how she came to be. I will not be stopping my spider experiments anytime soon. Not until she submits herself to me, or I recreate her very existence."

"Miguel...You can't have someone submit themselves to you like a trophy. You'd have to understand them...and honestly, if she really is a hero...I don't think...she will like...what you're...doing...here." Your voice kept getting lower and lower as Miguel slowly approached you.

"(Y/N), do you think what I'm doing here is wrong? Trying to advance us measly humans into something greater?" Miguel asked, twisting his views into yours. You bit your lower lip, holding your tablet close to your chest,

"N-No...I-I think the idea...is right..."

"Oh, (Y/N), try not to think too much, okay?" Miguel hummed as he casually stroked your cheek, "Remember, our work here will be one for the history books."

You tried your best to calm your racing heart as you leaned into Miguel's touch. How could such cruel words come out through his sexy mouth. His low tone just made your brain fuzzy. And his touch? Oh, you were feeling that down to your panties.

"Okay," You whispered, giving into his demands, "What will we start with today?"

It was going to be a long road, but if you couldn't change Miguel as you, perhaps you had to change him as Spider-Woman. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel will listen to you with the mask on. It was a slim chance, but you wanted to save him so bad.

"While I start collecting more spiders, I want you to find me more willing test subjects."

"B-But Miguel, y-you know...how I feel about going to the prisons." You whimpered, tugging against his sleeve. Miguel just chuckled, lifting your chin and leaned towards you,

"You can do it." He hummed and saw the tears about to spill from yours eyes, "I'll have Lyla accompany you. Does that help?"

"I guess," You whimpered once more. Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he had Lyla downloaded to your watch.

"Off you go. I want you to be back to file down each of my spiders."

"Yes, sir."

Shaking as you hurried out of Miguel's office, you tried to calm down. Miguel was being extra touchy today...and cruel. The only good thing about you leaving was that you could finally see the prisoners in a new light. As a hero, you needed to learn what villains think like...aside from Miguel.

"Are you ready to go, (Y/N)?" Lyla asked, appearing before you. You just smiled towards the AI,

"Yep! Let's go!"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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aplpaca · 2 years

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Honestly while I 100% agree with the pushback against the misuse/misunderstanding/watering-down of "intrusive thoughts" as a term, i think on some level it's also misrepresentative when the only kind of counter to "lol I had an intrusive thought to jump on the table" is stuff like "real intrusive thoughts are terrible and involve stuff that's gory or morally repulsive like 'you should stab your mom' and are things no one would ever ever talk about"

Cause like, gory and morally repulsive thoughts like that are definitely examples of forms intrusive thoughts can take, but a lot of times it seems like the implication/vocal consensus of a lot of these counter-posts is that intrusive thoughts are things that are all Objectively horrible/terrifying/gruesome/immoral, when that's not actually the case

Like, the core thing about intrusive thoughts is that they're thoughts/images/"urges"/ideas that are unwanted and distressing to the person having them, and are generally repetitive/reoccurring. So while repeated thoughts of "what if I want to kill my mom" that cause distress to the person having them are definitely intrusive thoughts, basically any theme of worry can be the focus of intrusive thoughts, as long as the thoughts are distressing.

Stuff like "what if I don't actually believe in God", "what if I'm not actually an atheist", "what if I'm actually gay/straight/bi/etc", "what if i left the oven on", "what if I'm living in an alternate reality", "what if I forgot to submit my assignments", etc are all themes that intrusive thoughts can have that aren't Objectively Horrible or Immoral, and many are stuff that a lot of people wouldn't consider an Issue. But like even stuff like "I keep counting things in my head" can be an example of intrusive thoughts if the counting is causing distress.

And like idk it just seems like boiling down intrusive thoughts to "horrible things you could never talk about to other people and that fundamentally go against your own morality" does a disservice to a lot of people with different "themes", and can lead to dismissing the distress of those who have more "speakable" intrusive thoughts, or with these people not recognizing their thoughts as intrusive ones bc it doesn't fit what they've seen talked about.

Plus like off the top of my head, I've personally seen the idea that intrusive thoughts are always about things that are Morally Repugnant to the person experiencing them end up in someone being dog-piled on a reddit thread, when a poster (a straight guy) talked about having intrusive thoughts that he was "actually gay" and was met with people accusing him of being homophobic for "being disgusted by the idea of gay people" (and also with people telling him he was repressed and in the closet, which is also definitely not something that would help with said intrusive thoughts)

And just I don't super know where I'm going with this or how to wrap it up nicely but I think in the pushback against the misuse and infantilization of "intrusive thoughts" I think there should also be effort to make sure that we're not just replacing one misunderstanding with another

#intrusive thoughts #ocd

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mypoisonedvine · 4 months

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Prompt 18 with Angus Tully it’s giving best friend’s creepy brother or something lol

i knew it was only a matter of time before i wrote something a little darker with angus >:)

18: "it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"

warnings: dubcon (technically) sexual content 18+ ONLY!!!, male masturbation, perv!angus, degradation kink (but not what you're thinking hehe), sliiiiiightly dom!reader??

"Oh shit," you realized as you padded your pockets, "I forgot my lighter at home. Can I borrow yours?"

"Sure," Amelia offered, "but I think my brother had it last."

You sighed, not really wanting to deal with him-- he was always... looming, which you didn't appreciate-- but figured it would be quick enough to run upstairs and snatch it out of his room. "I'll go get it," you decided, "you go ahead and I'll catch up with you."

"Okay, see you there!" she agreed, slipping out the front door as you bounded up the stairs and hung your purse over the top banister quickly.

Honestly, you didn't even think about knocking before you barged in. You figured he was reading, if he was even in there-- you hadn't seen him since you first got here and he disappeared. But, it turns out he was pretty busy...

You caught him with his cock in his hand, hunched over a polaroid in his bed; he looked up at you with wide eyes as you burst in, falling back into the sheets, trying desperately to cover himself as he gasped and coughed. "Wh-what the fuck?!" he blurted out.

Before you could decide if you should laugh, or apologize, or just run away, your gaze fell down to the polaroid-- his dramatic physical reaction and pulling the sheet up quickly over himself had launched it right in front of your feet. Your eyes wide when you saw it, and you quickly snatched it off the ground as he jumped up; he looked like he might get up to take it from you, until he seemed to remember that would leave him exposed and so he sank back into the bed helplessly.

"It's not what it looks like!" he tried hastily to explain as you looked at the image in your hand.

"Is this a picture of me?!" you realized-- it wasn't a question, you knew. It was obviously you... even if it was taken from behind. You'd recognize your own swimsuit anywhere.

"Fuck, I-- um--" he stammered, "that's-- I-I just found that--"

"You took this!" you accused. "This was at Amelia's pool party!"

"I-- um--" he choked.

"Oh my god, you're such a creep!" you spat. "You took this picture and you get off to it?! I didn't even know you took this-- I didn't know you-- you're a fucking pervert!"

"Don't talk like that," he whined-- at first you assumed it was because his feelings were hurt, but you could see his face getting redder, and your stomach twisted as you realized...

"Jesus," you groaned, "is this turning you on?"

"U-uh," he grumbled, but even that sounded a bit like a low moan, and you smirked a little as you stepped further into the room.

"You're actually disgusting," you informed him, though the tone of your voice changed a bit. "I knew you were weird, but this? Taking stalker pictures from the bushes... that's where you were, right? Or maybe behind the fence? Were you jerking off then, too?"

"N-no," he denied nervously, watching you come closer, "I... I waited until I got back to my room, at least..."

"And what did you think about?" you wondered with a smirk. "You thought about getting your jizz all over my bikini, right? That's so gross."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth-- you thought he looked pretty cute like this: turned on, but a little terrified.

"And just now, looking at your little picture," you cooed, crossing your arms, "were you gonna come all over it? Or try to save it so you can use it whenever you want?"

"Stop," he pleaded, "I-- I might-- I was so close--"

"You wanted to get caught," you decided, seeing his eyes get even wider as you looked down at him tangled up in those sheets (which didn't do a whole lot to hide his throbbing erection, by the way). "You wanted me to come in here and see you, you wanted me to know what a sick little freak you are--"

"God, I'm--" he warned with a whine, but you kept going.

"You wanted me to tell you how dirty and bad you are," you scolded with a purr, "'cause you're a pathetic, desperate perv!"

"Fuck!" he whimpered, shuddering under the thin sheet, and you watched with sick delight as a wet patch began to form on the fabric, growing with each sudden flex of his hips.

"Wow," you grinned, "you came just from that--"

"I-I was really close already!" he defended, as if that were enough of an excuse: as if being nearly finished jerking off to a picture of you was something to be proud of.

"I'll keep this," you decided as you slipped the polaroid in your back pocket, seeing him open his mouth in protest only to shut it. "You're just gonna have to stick to your imagination next time, Angus... I'm sure it's plenty creative."

You turned and were nearly out the door when he spoke up: "W-wait!"

You looked over your shoulder back at him, noticing the way his eyes drifted over you.

"You could... stay longer," he offered-- like you were leaving because you thought he wanted you out. You laughed and rolled your eyes.

"I told your sister I'd meet her at the record store," you explained. "You think I wanna sit around with you and, what, blow you or something?"

His throat caught and he looked beautifully flustered. "W-well, I dunno, I just--"

"Whatever, loser," you scoffed, about to leave again.

"Y-you should give me something," he decided, surprising you with his confidence, "since you're taking my picture."

"This is a picture of me," you reminded him, "I should have it."

"But still--"

You interrupted him with an annoyed groan, and he shut up quick when you started to unbutton your shirt. "Okay," you relented, "I'll give you five seconds. Is that enough?"

He didn't answer, just watched your hands intently, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You opened your shirt enough to expose your bra, and quickly pulled it down to give him a good look at your tits. He sighed, hand wrapping around his cock under the sheets again, and you frowned as you realized he was going to get himself off again so soon after coming. Was he really that insatiable?

You counted to five in your head before pulling your bra back up and starting to re-button your shirt. "Was that long enough for you to remember?" you asked, annoyed.

"Yeah," he breathed, "don't think I could forget if I tried."

"Great," you announced sarcastically before you finally left, grabbing your purse again and quickly getting downstairs and out the door again.

It didn't take you all that long to catch up with Amelia, even though you were already breathless before you started jogging. She was only a few blocks down, and she smiled when she saw you.

"Did you get the lighter?" she asked as you walked side-by-side with her.

"No, he lost it," you shrugged, making her groan in frustration.

"Oh my god, why does my brother have to be such a dweeb?" she wondered.

"I don't know," you laughed, "I think he's kind of entertaining."

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

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lustlovehart · 4 months

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Scarlet in Black

Pairing: Blade x Reader

A/n: I love Mr Bladie. Also if there are any spelling errors im so srry abt that <3

Summary: [Yandere] Blade appears in your home, neither of you understand why, but both of you know when he leaves it wont be for long. Though, you will never know of his plan that fate had secured for him. | Part 2 ‘Cease The Blaze’

Warnings: Blood, Breaking in, Suggestive Tension, Biting/Hickey, Implied Nsfw, Violent Thoughts (Bladie), Themes of Codependency, Implied Kidnapping

The house is pitch dark at night, the way it should be. Red scarlet eyes bleed into the dark, illuminating crimson into the shadows of your home, that is not how it should be.

The strong iron smell of blood, intruding into your nostrils, the thick pungent liquid seeping into the clean sheets of your bed.

"Blade, why are you in my room"

He does not answer.

The scent of the grotesque liquid continues to spread around the room, the deep red both beautiful yet terrifying. It’s all over him. You know it’s not his own.

“Blade.”

He always doesn’t answer.

The man in front of you continues to dirty the covers with blood that is not his own,at least, you think it's not. It makes you wanna wretch at the thought of having to sleep in it. Slowly you take a step forward, he could be stricken with mara as of the moment, but you continued anyway.

Your figure is soon in front of his, red eyes look up at you from the mattress. He doesn’t speak a word as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him.

You sat in his lap as your own clothes and skin are seeped with his crimes. It takes all the effort you could muster to not push him away. You take a mental note to take a shower immediately when he’s gone.

His face buries itself into your neck, a deep inhale of you before he exhales all his warmth into your skin, chills going down your spine at the feeling despite the heat of his breath. The fingers of the hunter squeezing at parts of you you’d rather not find blood in, but nonetheless you let him.

“Do you wanna tell me why you’re here now?” He takes a moment to respond, momentarily distracted with tracing his lips across your carotid arteries. Any longer and you’d believe he was a vampire ready to sting his fangs into you.

“Because of you.” Seems like he's leaving his descriptions vague once again.

“How informative.”

Perhaps your assumption of him being a vampire was more of a fact rather than speculation. Honestly, you'd prefer him being a Vampire than whatever he is now.

His canines put pressure on your skin, tongue lapping over the designated spot, saliva coating the patch of skin. You wince at the feeling, but put up with it despite it, knowing he could do much worse than he is now.

Even with the pain, you can tell the murderer in front of you is holding himself desperately back. If he truly wasn't restraining himself you have no doubt he could effortlessly break your legs as if they were toothpicks.

Actually, he might be thinking about it. (He is, but he restrains himself nontheless)

The pressure subsided as he lifts his lips from you, a dark purple left in the most obvious place on your neck.

You take a deep breath in, before speaking once more, fingers entangling into his hair, briefly getting caught in a part of it that had dried blood in the strands.

"Did you really come here for me?"

"Mm... Yes." Brief, like usual. His words sound deep, coming out from the back of his throat. "I was thinking of you." You don't say anything else, burying you head in the crook of his neck, it smelled disgusting but maybe it could distract you for a moment in time.

"When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Will I see you then?"

"No, not at all." Typical, whenever he visits no trace of him is left behind. Even after hundreds of visits, when you wake up in the morning it's as if he had never existed in the first place, the only parts of him he leaves behind being the hickies and bite marks he leaves on you the night before, perhaps even a sticky residue if the two of you were particularly rough.

You hum in a reply. The more you look at him the more you question whose blood it is, a twisted curiosity. His hands start to embrace dangerously close to parts of you that should not be touched by anothers blood. Before he could draw himself any closer he pauses, fingers immediately stopping his advance.

“Do you, want me to take a shower first?” The question shocks you.

"Wow, this is rare, you actually thought about taking a shower?"

"You wince whenever you get close enough to smell it. I thought it would help you."

"So you noticed that... Its kinda worrying that you only decided to start taking showers for it now though..."

"I wanted you to get used to it." You look into his eyes, opening your mouth, but no words seem to come out, only a breath of air as you sigh. He notices but doesnt say anything.

"Why would you... want me to get used to that...?"

"If you did, maybe..." He doesn't continue his sentence, silently trailing off as he stares into your chest.

"Maybe...?"

"No, nevermind. I can't let you."

Instead of continuing his sentence he buries his face into you, and you let him. He'll be gone by the morning. You kind of hope he doesn't leave, as if he was an illusion, but you understand the nature of his job.

Even then though, you can't help but grip onto him tightly, the drying blood digging beneath your fingernails. You don't want him to leave, not again. Maybe if you were to desperately hold on to him he would stay with you, he would want to stay.

You don't know when it happened, but at some point in this bond, you had grown way too attached to the only constant in your life.

You feel arms start to tighten around you, almost suffocating how close it was. The criminal in front of you pulls you down onto your newly washed sheet, staining it red. His arms don't seem to let go of you however.

"I'll stay with you."

The words sent a shock through you. Did he really mean it? He wouldn't leave you again.

"But that means, you're willing to stay with me in return. Will you shoulder the burdens that come with me."

Your mind feels clouded, you know you shouldn't but you can't help but want to.

In this vulnerable moment, you will never notice the violet eyes that play with the strings of fate watching in the corner, awaiting the script to properly play out.

———

Depending on how well received this post gets I might-?? Make a second part that's either placed before or after this. Before being how blade and reader first had whatever they have, and after being smthn else.

#blade x reader #yandere blade #yandere hsr #yandere star rail #yandere honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #yandere #yandere yingxing #yingxing x reader #vesperwrites #honkai star rail #darkves

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milliesdiary · 1 year

Note

What if you are Jace's sister and he realizes you are in love with Aemond (and he also finds out that you two have been having premarital sex) which causes a fight so you go to Aemond for comfort and he soothes you

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐖

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader, targcest, mentions of sex. for some context: reader is daemon’s bastard child who rhaenyra welcomed as a part of the family. yes, aemond is a hypocrite :/ we still love him tho!!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile because i hate it. im going to be working on commissions for a bit though, so i decided to post it anyway to keep you guys fed :) please reblog and comment with your feedback. it means the world to me and keeps me motivated! ♡

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃."

Those were Jace’s words the second you walked into the dining room for breakfast. They take you aback, shock you into a frozen stupor.

You and your family have been in King’s Landing for the past few weeks, trying to set aside their differences with the Greens and do their best to reconcile. It has been rough for your younger brothers, though you have been having a brilliant time.

You and Helaena spend plenty of time together, Alicent treats you kindly, and Aegon leaves you alone. And Aemond? Well... you and Aemond are closer than most in terms of relationships.

But that’s a story for another day.

No one else is in the room thankfully — Luke wakes up later in the day, Helaena is presumably outside catching bugs, and your mother is probably off at a meeting with the court — so it’s just you, your younger brother, and the few servants that set the table.

“What?”

Jace gives you an unimpressed look; his chestnut-brown eyes are slightly narrowed, lips melded into a frown. “You love Aemond,” he repeats.

Your heart nearly stops when he says it, and you’re instantly terrified you’ve been caught. It would appear that misfortune has a tendency of catching you off guard. You honestly don’t know what to say.

“...That is quite an accusation,” you try to deadpan. That heated expression of his is chilling; you invite him to sit next to you in hopes of extinguishing it. “Why don’t you just sit down and eat?”

Jace isn’t deterred. He holds his head high and keeps his voice stern; a trait he has undoubtedly learned from your mother. “You told me a couple moons ago that you had no affections for him.”

Oh, Gods. You don’t really want to sit here and listen to him complain about how much of a burden you are from rejecting all of your parents’ attempts at arranging a marriage. For hating every single man they tried to set you up with. You scold yourself more than enough.

“I know what I said. And I mean it. I do not love him, Jace.” You let out a nervous laugh, trying to come across as naïve. The servants are staring now. “What has brought this on?”

“You must think of me as a fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you acting so innocent?”

“I don’t love him, Jacaerys. I swear it.” A bitter lie.

For a fleeting moment, you think you’ve won; your brother stands next to the table without saying a word, his mouth clamped shut as he bites the inside of his cheek.

And then he drops the bomb.

“I know you have been seeing each other,” Jace says. It doesn’t come out as a question; it’s a statement. “Stealing each other away in the night.”

Your heart drops in a single second. How does he...?

For these past few weeks, you thought you were being careful. Undetected. There was never anyone around when you slipped through the dark halls of the Red Keep every night and sidled up to Aemond’s door. Not a single voice to stop you as Aemond tugged you into his room and spoke High Valyrian in your ear as he undressed you, as he kissed you senseless, fucked you senseless. It was a dangerous game, of course — but you never actually expected to get caught.

“…Where did you hear that?”

“A kingsguard told me that you parted from his company last night.” Jace’s mouth twists into a disgusted frown. He hesitates, almost like he physically can’t say what comes next. “...From his chambers.”

In that moment, you knew it was over. The gist was up.

“Jace…”

“Tell me it isn’t true.”

And that’s the thing: you can’t say you don’t love Aemond, because it would be the furthest thing from the truth. Your hands fall to your lap and you fist your hands in the skirt of your dress, begging for courage.

“Don’t tell mother.”

Your response — shameful and pleading — speaks volumes. It makes Jace’s skin boil; he had been praying that the knight was wrong. And that hope he clung to so religiously? It’s gone. You can feel the symptoms of a dispute brewing: sweaty hands, agitated eyes, labored breathing. Tension hangs over you like a dark cloud and refuses to dissipate.

“Why?” Jace looks disgusted, repulsed even. It sparks a flame inside you. “You saw his true colors that night. All of us did. Baela, Rhaena. Luke.”

You know what he’s referring to. It is a memory that you want to squeeze the life out of.

“I thought we talked about you sorting out your priorities,” he continues. “What self-respecting daughter of the future Queen runs off and beds whoever she likes without a marriage proposal?”

Yes, perhaps your growing annoyance is misplaced. Your brother wants the best for you, and it’s only natural that he would have his reservations about Aemond.

But he doesn’t know the man like you do; he hasn’t seen his hidden softness.

Sometimes people lose their ability to be recognized when they are joyful — in a pleasant way, of course. Aemond is one of those people. You’ve seen him smile once before. Truly smile. It was not sly, snarky, or coy; for once, it was the sincere kind. You wished he would do it more. It was incredibly beautiful.

If only Jace could have experienced it.

“Don’t speak about him like that,” you mumble.

"I won't restrain myself to appease your ignorance.”

Inhaling sharply, you take a seat at the table and busy yourself by playing with the napkin beside your plate. It’s a feeble attempt at controlling your rising panic. Jace must think you’re acting a bit too calm, because he seems to bristle at your alleged indifference. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. Really, I am. I was just scared—“

“You lied.”

“It was a white lie. No harm was meant to come from it.”

Jace fixes you with a firm scowl. “A white lie? A white lie? Meddling with our uncle who you are not betrothed to is not something that just happens.”

“You are blowing this out of proportion. I did it to keep you from getting upset and—“

“This is not just about the lie itself,” Jace huffs.

“Then what is it?”

“You believed I wasn't worth your honesty.”

Your gut tightens at his remark — you know he’s right and that he deserves to be informed of such things. Finding out that someone you care for is hiding something this important is a rude awakening.

But you can’t stop.

“I knew you would act like this,” you retort. Raising your voice wasn’t planned, but it happens anyway. It feels like your veins are being ripped to bits as the telltale marks of wrath sweep throughout your body. “I will do you a favor next time and not tell you anything at all.”

“Or you could not encourage him,” Jace spits out. “You think that he does not act like his brother, Aegon? For all you know, he could be gallivanting with a servant every second he is not with you.”

Your jaw tightens so firmly that it seems to lock in place. You’re pissed now. “Aemond is not like that.”

“When you see him next, you can tell him to jump in the damn Dragonpit,” Jace continues. You aren’t used to hearing such crude language from him; it has you reeling. “Perhaps he’ll do that after he’s done fucking you.”

Something inside you bursts. Agonizingly. Ferociously. It's a jolt to your system that throws everything off-kilter. It is a painful fury that splits you in two.

You slam your palms down on the table and rise in your chair; you're astonished the wood doesn't split with the force of it. The plates and forks clatter, and Jace almost jumps. The servants bustling around you certainly do.

Your brother has some nerve. You want to spit foul names in his face. Wish to seize him by the collar and force him to kneel before your feet, because why? Why can’t you be with who you want? First it was Daemon who denied that you ever get betrothed to Aemond. Then it was your mother, and now it’s him.

“I do not need protecting, Jace!” Your chest is rising and falling faster now, like the erratic pull of the tides. It feels like there is so much bottled up energy inside of you that you could scream, erupt, or break something … you need to break something. You choose his spirit. “I don’t need you at all!”

Jace’s expression falls then. Along with it goes your anger.

His gaze flits to the ground for a second — as if the stone is a safe haven from your wrath — and you’re about to apologize when he lifts his chin to glare daggers at you.

“I get it now,” Jace laughs bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You would do anything to be held by him. Ceasing to care about who he might hurt next and ignoring his callousness. You see only what you want.”

In his rage, Jace’s lips spew poison from deep in his chest, a dark place that you didn't even know he had.

“You make me wonder how I ended up with a delusional lunatic for a sister.“

Dead silence.

The two of you are just staring at each other now. Jace braces himself when you step away from your seat; he looks like he’s expecting you to slap him, like he’s preparing himself for the sting.

And as much as you would like to do it, you just walk away.

You’re not even sure if Jace tries to stop you at first. Not sure if a servant tries to tries to grab you by the arm. You are running on pure adrenaline, pure buzzing energy, blood pumping like a battle cry in both eardrums.

It takes until you’re exiting through the giant wooden doors to hear Jace yelling your name — and you loathe how worried he sounds, detest it — and then you’re practically running through the stone hallways.

You want to go to bed. Shut everyone out and sleep until you awaken in a different world: one where you are not expected to get married to certain people, where your brother doesn’t expect you to be a person you can’t, and the 'losing an eye’ thing never happened, and … and it’s just you, Aemond, wrapped up in the sheets of your mattress. That’s all.

The world is just cruel.

Every step echoes as you make a beeline for your room. Tears slip down your cheeks and your fists quake; everything hurts. Emotionally, at least. You’re too worn out, too aggravated, too... mad? Hell, you’re not even sure if you’re still mad. The emotion that rips you apart right now feels more like an indigo-drenched sadness than a red-hot anger.

It’s a strange, crushing feeling that has you stifling a sob while rounding a corner.

But, as if the universe hates you, you catch a glimpse of that ethereal man — the fucking bane of your existence — walking down the same hallway. His back is to you, long white hair swishing with every stride he takes, and his posture is strong.

You don’t want to ruin his day. Spoil the mood, or show how weak you can be.

You call out his name anyway, because there’s only one thing you can think of in this moment. A mantra:

I need you right now, My Prince.

I need you to truly look at me and understand me.

Aemond, I need you to see me.

The man turns then. He says your name, and you, who denied loving him, practically run and throw yourself into his arms.

For a moment, Aemond doesn’t move a muscle; he’s confused, at a total loss. But then his palms slowly come down to your waist, supporting your body as he allows you to sniffle into his tunic.

He doesn’t speak for awhile. Instead, he just looks down at you.

Your cheeks are dressed in tears that resemble droplets of honey. Your gardenia scented hair, pressed against his chest, is beautiful. He discovers an unexpected heaven amidst your grief.

“He doesn’t want us to be together,” you try to whisper, but the words falter and trickle pitifully out of your mouth. They lack the power that you so urgently need.

At first, Aemond is silent. He has no idea what you’re talking about; and then it clicks. Jace.

Aemond has never been one to comfort others. You don’t really expect him to do much, honestly. But when he decides to speak, his tone is gentle and holds no judgment. “Your dear brother has found out about our arrangement, I presume.”

You pull away slightly to stare up at Aemond. You drink in every plane of his face; those high cheekbones, his pretty lips, the silver hair that brushes the ridge of his jaw and the scar he hides. You want to absorb all of him.

Aemond’s hands come to rest on your elbows, and then they slide all the way down your arms until he’s tenderly holding you by the wrists. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before speaking more resolutely. “Did he hurt you?”

“No — No, of course not,” you sniffle. Jace could be stubborn and fierce, but he would never lay a hand on you. “He was just being a brat. We got into an argument and he was ... he was mean.”

Aemond hums at that. “It must not have been too bad then. He is all bark and no bite,” he muses softly. Every syllable is gentle, each vowel soothing in its own right. He’s calm somehow.

It’s in these moments that you wish so deeply you could be like Aemond. Wish that you could stand your ground, despite wanting to run away. Wish that you could hold the barbs of someone’s anger in your palm and not get stung; not allow the sharp edges to slice under your skin and leave streams of blood in its wake.

But you are not strong like him.

With bated breath, you move to embrace Aemond once more, arms wrapping around his middle as you press your nose into the leather of his tunic.

It doesn’t last long.

Aemond leans into you, and then with both hands on your shoulders, gently tugs you away from his chest. You glance at him in confusion, and meet his gaze with an infantile glare.

For a second you think he doesn’t want to hug you. That he’s about to chide you for being a big baby, for getting in a fight with your sibling and blowing things out of proportion.

But then you quickly realize that he just wants to see your face.

The truth is, Aemond doesn’t want you to hide in his arms. He doesn’t want you to bury your head into his chest and conceal your pain, or for you to dig your face into his clothes until each cheek is dry and you look composed again.

He wants you to share every emotion with him openly, no matter how warped or ugly or bruised.

Perhaps that’s what love is; recognizing someone's greatest vulnerability and still choosing to love them.

It’s hard to place what emotion rests itself in Aemond’s eye after that, but whatever it is almost has you numb to how he’s holding both of your hands in his own. That is, until he trails a thumb over your knuckles.

“Convince Jace, please,” you beg once more. The edges of your mouth start to turn downwards as you tear up again, and Aemond’s eye follows; he takes in your grief intently, and you are fully conscious of that fact. “Please. Show him you are worthy of my hand.”

There’s a sort of surprise that swirls in his lilac gaze; however, his lips are in a straight line, his face nothing else but cold, and you can picture the war that rages inside his head.

“I bear a hatred that could draw blood,” Aemond finally murmurs. “Those who do not deserve to be forgiven will not know my mercy. I will not betray my feelings to please others.”

“Try, Aemond. Please. If not for you and your sanity, do it for me.”

Aemond can only stare at you — his only love, his life, his breath of fresh air. The woman who he hopes will be his future wife despite your family’s distaste. He inhales deeply, chest rising and flattening the creases in his tunic, gaze roaming the tear-tracks on your face. And then he caves.

But not before making a demand.

“Do not cry, my love,” Aemond breathes. “It does not suit you.”

And when you blink up at him so sweetly, nodding in a wordless vow, Aemond presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Then he kisses your left cheek, and the right, before slowly tracing his lips against your own.

“Your body is mine,” He whispers into your parted mouth. “And I will find a way to claim it. They will have no choice but to accept me.”

Aemond is a professional at pressing your buttons. It’d be a lie if you said it didn’t excite you; quickly, you capture his lips into a searing kiss. He returns the favor, knowing damn well that you want him, and yet he doesn’t tease in between kisses. He chooses tenderness over taunts just this once.

The air is filled with a sentence unsaid:

Touch my soul with warm words, and I shall do whatever you wish.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd imagines #millie’s works — 📓

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