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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

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Would you consider doing a fic about a unicorn? One of the few remaining. Who is obsessed with you. Follows you and scares persuers away. Haughty and possessive ethereal and charming. I you're his and if he has to keep you captive to help you see that he's your mate, he will.

I love unicorns!!! I was never a horse girl, but unicorns I can get down with. <3

Word Count: 4k

Ainsel (Unicorn) x F Reader

W: minor character murder, light kidnapping, yandere behavior, sfw yandere fluff

“Ainsel, pay attention,” the unicorn’s father growled as his eyes drifted over the display, “do you want navy or white?”

Ainsel sighed, blinking his bright blue eyes slowly.

“I don’t care, father,” he said, “just pick something.”

His father turned on him impatiently.

“This is important Ainsel,” he snapped, “you are one of the last marriageable unicorns on the planet. You need to be serious about choosing a wife. The Embry’s have one of the only female unicorn daughters in existence. You have to make a good impression.”

He rolled his eyes.

“If she is one of the last, why should it matter?” he huffed, “we don’t really have a choice do we? I marry her and have as many babies as possible, or else. It shouldn’t matter what I look like.”

His father pinched his lips into a fine line.

“There are other males interested in her,” he went on, “if you don’t make a good impression she’ll choose another and there won't be any other options.”

Ainsel shrugged carelessly.

“I could marry a human,” he said, “they will birth a unicorn baby.”

His father took in a sharp breath.

“You will not marry a human,” he snarled, “I won’t have our bloodline sullied with human genes. We’ve been full blooded unicorns for generations! A half human baby will have weak magic…then what if the next generation copulates with a human? And the next? We’ll be diluted to nothing.”

Ainsel had heard this speech a hundred times before, from both his father and mother, but the truth was he couldn’t care less the purity of his bloodline. Especially if he had to marry a mare he hardly knew. He’d seen pictures of Elaine, but she didn’t stir his blood. He hated his parents for forcing this on him. He wanted to live his own life…make his own choices. He wanted to be happy, not a miserable baby maker, shoving his half limp cock into someone he had no interest in to produce heirs.

“I’m sorry it’s taking so long,” you apologized, entering the large dressing room where the two wealthy unicorns were looking at suits, “Mr. Scott had to take a call, but I can help you. Here are the other options he wanted you to try.”

You hung up a powder blue suit and a cool gray one on the rack for them to look at.

Ainsel was not looking at the suits, however, he was looking at you.

His father grumbled a bit under his breath about having been waiting forever, but turned his attention to the powder blue suit.

“I think this one is best,” he said, pulling it off the rack and holding it up to examine the stitching.

“What do you think, miss…?” Ainsel asked, hoping you would give him your name.

You cleared your throat a bit nervously. Your job was usually tailoring the suits, not selling them.

“(Y/N) and personally I think the white one will have the most impact, but it should reflect your taste, not mine. Any suit will look its best when the wearer is confident and comfortable in it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at your sweet, full cheeks and bright, sparkling eyes.

“You're the expert,” he said, taking in the flattering little paper bag pants and white blouse you were wearing. You looked so neat and tidy with your hair swept away from your face. He couldn’t help but think you were adorable.

You bit your bottom lip, considering the suits you’d brought in very carefully, wrinkling your brow just a little. The gesture made his cock stiffen in his pants as he imagined that little wrinkle between your eyes as he made you cum over and over again.

“I just think you can’t go wrong with a white suit. Especially if you want to stand out. It looks clean and eye-catching without being tacky.”

He only half heard what you were saying, his attention on the way your lips moved. He envisioned them stretched around his cock and had to step forward and angle his body away from you to pretend he was examining the white suite, so he could adjust his pants.

“Well what do you think?” his father huffed impatiently, “I don’t have all day.”

“I’ll go with the white one,” he said.

His father looked relieved.

“Alright,” the elder unicorn turned his attention to you, “Mr. Scott knows my account. Just charge whatever else he needs to that. I have other things to do.”

He glanced back at his son as he made his way out of the dressing room.

“Don’t be late for dinner!” he snapped and marched out, leaving the two of you alone.

“I can help you get dressed,” you said after a moment of silence, “once I’ve taken the measurements for the tailoring, we can look at a tie and shoes.”

Ainsel was happy to undress for you, eager to show off his assets. He knew he was beautiful, all unicorns were. He had a tall, lithe body packed with firm, corded muscles. Women fell over themselves for him whenever he went out. You couldn’t help but blush when he yanked the t-shirt he was wearing over his head, revealing his sculpted chest.

“You look like a model,” you sputtered to your own embarrassment.

“I mean- the suit is going to look great on you,” you said quickly.

Ainsel gave you a bright white smile and flexed his muscles just slightly hoping to draw even more stuttering words from your mouth.

With warm cheeks you quickly turned your attention to getting the suit ready instead of watching him undress. When you turned back around, he was only wearing gray boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, you could see the very clear imprint of his rather large cock, pressed against them and you blushed again.

“Um…” you muttered, almost dropping the black button up shirt in your hand.

There was a long silence while you took his body in, which he ate up, grinning at you from ear to ear.

“The shirt?” he asked playfully, stepping forward and brushing it with his fingertips, making sure to graze your smaller hands.

“Right!” you said, “um, let me help you.”

He liked the feeling of your warm fingers just barely touching his skin as you hurried to pull it over his shoulders and let you button it up for him. Not because he couldn’t, but because he liked your scent drifting up to him. You smelled sweet, like peaches.

“Um…it looks like we’ll have to take it in a little,” you mumbled, as you helped him into the pants, then the jacket, “but it looks good on you.”

His clean scent, something like spicy ginger and citrus, made you feel a little dizzy. You tried to brush the feeling away and focus on taking his measurements and securing the areas with pins that you would need to work on. Your cheeks heated when you bent in front of him to work on his inseam.

“My family is new to the area. What do you do for fun, when you’re not working?” he asked suddenly and you glanced up at him to find his bright, almost glowing, blue eyes focused on you. He was so beautiful, it was hard to believe he was real. His deep olive skin had a bit of a sheen to it, as if he was dusted in fine glitter and his raven hair reflected rainbow colors in the light.

You shrugged.

“I’m probably not the right person to ask,” you said, returning your attention to your work, “I’m a bit of a homebody except tonight, I guess.”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

“Oh…um, my friend invited me out to a new bar. It’s the grand opening. I wouldn’t normally go, but he’s the owner…so…a few of us are going to support him.”

Ainsel didn’t like “he”, but he schooled his expression.

“Can I come?” he asked with the confidence of a man who never got turned down.

You blinked for a second unsure what to say.

“I’ve been incredibly bored,” he went on, “I don’t know anyone here my age…”

You nodded as you stood, not able to come up with a reason he couldn’t come.

“Sure…I guess. I don’t know how good it will be…” you mumbled and he reached a hand out to you.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put in my number,” he said, so you fished it out of your pocket and handed it to him.

“I’ll pick you up,” he said as he tapped his number into your phone and sent himself a text message from it, “just send me your address.”

You were too flustered by the ethereal unicorn wanting to go somewhere with you, your common sense had gone out the window. No one who looked like him had ever paid you any attention before, so when he handed it back, you put in your address and hit send. The name on the contact just said Ainsel with a unicorn emoji.

“(Y/N), I need you in the back!” Mr. Scott, barked in his gruff voice as he marched back into the room, “I’ll take over from here.”

“Of course!” you squeaked and scurried off before even saying goodbye.

—

You groaned at yourself in the mirror as you tried to put eyeliner on, finally giving up and just going with mascara and some dewy looking blush. You weren’t sure if this was supposed to be a date or if Ainsel really just wanted someone to show him around, so you struggled over what to wear.

You didn’t want to look like you tried too hard, but you also wanted him to think you looked nice. You tried to shake the thought from your head that it was a date. No one like him would want to date you, you thought. Still, you ended up picking a cute little vintage dress that matched your eyes and some comfortable low heels. You jumped when the doorbell rang, hurrying to smooth down the flyaways in your hair before answering the door.

Ainsel’s eyes drifted down your body and back up again when he stood before you and in his hands was a thick bouquet of assorted flowers in a glass vase.

“I didn’t know what was your favorite,” he said, handing it to you, “so I told the florist to use them all.”

He smiled at you, looking you up and down again.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and a bit husky.

“Oh.” was all you managed to get out, as you accepted the vase with shaking hands.

You turned to find a place for them and he followed you inside.

“This is cute,” he said, sauntering around your living room while you pushed some things off of your coffee table to make room for the flowers.

“It’s nothing special…I got a deal,” you mumbled, eager to shoo him out of your messy apartment, “we should go before it gets late.”

“Of course,” he said, placing a hand gently on your lower back as he guided you out of the door.

You swallowed thickly at the contact.

You made polite conversation in the car, asking how long he’d been in the area and where he moved from. The conversation came easily. Ainsel was charming and casual. He put you at ease, even though you were still stunned he wanted to come out with you. By the time you reached the restaurant he had you giggling over his silly stories about growing up a unicorn.

“Who is this?!” your friend Leslie asked with a knowing smile when you walked in the door with Ainsel on your arm.

Before you could introduce him, he stuck out his hand and told her his name. Your girlfriends were smitten, all asking him questions about his life and being a unicorn. You tried to stuff the little bit of jealousy down that they were giving him so much attention, but who wouldn’t want to talk to him? He was handsome and good at conversation, if not a bit aloof. He spoke with his head held high, always with his hand resting on your lower back, as if you were already a couple.

Ainsel couldn’t help but keep his hands on you. Truly, speaking with your friends was tiresome. He’d rather be alone, talking to you more, but he knew women paid careful attention to how their potential mate interacted with their friends. He wanted to make a good impression to get their approval, nothing more.

He only let you go when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Ainsel slipped out of the busy dining room to the small hallway where the bathrooms were to take the call.

“Where are you?!” his father snarled into the phone, “Elaine has been here waiting for you for an hour!”

Ainsel let out an impatient breath.

“I’m out, father,” he said, sounding bored, “I won't make it tonight.”

“You are seriously standing up one of the last female unicorns on the planet?” his father hissed back.

“Yes.” he said plainly, which prompted his father to devolve into a tantrum cursing him, that he’d ever had him, and how he planned on cutting him off if he didn’t drop what he was doing and make his way home immediately. Ainsel finally just hung up the phone. It buzzed immediately as his father tried to call him back, but he just turned the vibration off and sauntered back into the dining room.

A growl bubbled in his throat at what he saw.

Your friend, Josh, who owned the restaurant had you wrapped in a big hug, lifting you off of your feet.

“Um…yes, it’s very nice, Josh, I like the decor,” you said, taking a step away from him when he put you down.

“I’m just so happy you could make it,” he beamed.

Ainsel shouldered past him, grabbing you by your elbow and pulling you against him possesively. Josh’s face fell just slightly at the contact, but he forced his practiced smile back on his lips.

“Who’s this?” he asked tightly.

“Oh, this is Ainsel. We met at-” you started to say, but Ainsel cut you off.

“I’m (Y/N)’s date,” he said, a smug aura hovering around him as he pulled you even closer and tucked you under his arm.

Your body tingled under his touch and your heart skipped in your chest.

“Oh…” Josh said, “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“Well we just me-” you again started to say and again Ainsel cut you off with a kiss on your temple.

“I’m already starting to think of her as mine,” he said, squeezing your shoulder and making all of your girlfriends giggle and shoot you mischievous smiles.

You blanched at such a direct declaration, completely unsure what to say. Your mouth just hung open as Josh glared at Ainsel. He grabbed your chin lightly with his long fingers so that you were looking at him.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked, “I’ve been wanting to show you my other form.”

You blinked up at him, both incredibly flattered and confused.

“Um…but we only just-,” you mumbled as he winked at your girlfriends and told them goodnight, talking right over you while he guided you out of the bar, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Bars are no fun,” he told you as he stuffed you back into his sports car, “let’s go someplace quiet.”

You were a bit miffed at leaving so early, but you were curious about his unicorn form, so you didn’t say a word as he started up the engine and drove the two of you to a pretty spot overlooking the city.

“This is much better,” he beamed, opening your door for you and helping you out of the car.

He pulled you into a clear spot and winked at you.

“I don’t show just anyone my unicorn form,” he said with a smile, “this is just for you to see.”

Your cheeks burned as he took a few steps away from you. You blinked and there he was, a lovely black unicorn with a pretty horn, reminding you of the inside of an abalone shell sticking out of his forehead.

He dipped his head and stepped towards you, encouraging you to touch him. You smoothed your slightly shaking hand over his cheek and ran your fingers through his silky jet mane. His eyes were the same illuminated blue. He bent down at the knee in front of you and it took a moment to realize he wanted you to climb on his back.

You carefully climbed on, making sure you didn’t tug at his mane too much as you straddled him. When you were comfortably seated he walked with a slow saunter, so similar to the way he walked as a human, into the sparse forest nearby.

The night was a bit chilly, but Ainsel was very, very warm, so you found yourself leaning down to press more of your body against him. This closeness pleased Ainsel immensely.

You had no way of knowing, but unicorns long ago would steal pretty maidens like you with just the tactic he was using then. As his magic surrounded you, invisible to you, you felt yourself getting a bit sleepy, relaxing even further against him. Soon your eyelids slipped shut and you fell asleep with a soft sigh.

–

“Mmmm,” you murmured as you slowly woke.

Firm fingers were carding your hair, which felt nice. You sighed and a deep chuckle hit your ears. Forcing your eyes open you met Ainsel’s blue irises looking at you.

“Have a nice nap?” he asked, with a smirk.

Blinking you looked around, trying to get your bearings. You were laying in a large soft bed in a pretty room that had definitely seen the touch of a professional designer.

“What- where am i?” you asked, groggily, sitting up.

Ainsel cupped your cheek gently before he answered.

“My bedroom,” he said, “exactly where you should be.”

“Where I- what?” you stuttered, trying to make your sleepy mind catch up with Ainsel’s words.

He scooted closer to you on the fluffy comforter that he’d tucked you under.

“You’re mine (Y/N),” he purred.

You blinked at him, confused.

“What do you mean by that?” you ventured and he pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, before turning it over and dropping light kisses over your palm.

“I want to be with you always,” he explained as his blue eyes flickered up to meet yours, “I don’t want anyone else to touch you. I don’t want you to smile for anyone but me.”

“Ainsel,” you said, letting out a nervous laugh, “that’s impossible…of course I’m going to smile at my friends.”

His brow furrowed.

“Why?” he snapped, clutching your hand tighter, “I’ve worked so hard to keep you. Done things…”

He trailed off, kissing the inside of your wrist.

“Done what?” you asked.

At that he brightened, eager to show off. Scooping you up in his arms he walked with a clip out of his bedroom. The mansion he lived in was beautiful and modern with lots of glass and chrome. He carried you down a flight of stairs and to what appeared to be an indoor swimming pool. Only the water was pink and something…some things…were floating on its surface. Your heart turned to ice when you realized what you were looking at.

You recognized one of the bodies floating in the pool… Ainsel’s father, the man who you’d met just hours before was clearly dead, his face marked with deep cuts. You glanced up to see the jagged hole in the glass ceiling where the two of his parents had fallen through. They must have broken their necks hitting the ceiling before they even made it to the pool.

“What have you done?” you whimpered, your voice wan.

Ainsel kissed your forehead.

“They wouldn’t let us be together,” he said, with clear disgust in his voice, “but it’s all better now. I think I’ll bury them beneath the rose bushes. My mother always liked roses.”

Your instinct was to escape and you thrashed in Ainsel’s arms, beating at his chest with your fists.

“Shhh…shhh,” he hummed at you, “I didn’t mean to upset you, love. I should have guessed you’re sensitive…that’s sweet…Just calm down. I’ll take care of everything. You’ll never have another worry as long as you live.”

Your breath kicked up and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Ainsel,” you gasped, staring at him, your face cold with fear, “you’re- you’re a murderer!”

He clucked at you, pressing you into his warm chest.

“That’s such an ugly word. I don’t want to hear you say it again,” he corrected you while he stroked your hair, quite pleased with himself, “I did what I had to do to make sure we could be together. My parents were horrible people…the world won’t miss them.”

“B-but…” you stuttered.

“None of that,” he chided, silencing you with a heavy kiss.

You froze against him, letting his mouth move over yours. His lips were warm, supple and you wanted so badly to give in. He was doing something to you, your body relaxing and your eyes fluttering as you tasted the mint of his mouth on your tongue.

“You’re going to be a good little mate, aren’t you?” he asked, pulling away, “I won't have to lock you in the basement, will I?”

You quickly shook your head, you didn’t want to be locked anywhere.

He twisted his mouth at you.

“Say, ‘No, my love.’” he ordered, his voice firm and with a bit more gravel than his usual tone.

“Um…no…my love,” you repeated quietly.

He rewarded you with a big smile.

“You are a good little mate!” he beamed.

You couldn’t stop your body from trembling in his arms. Would he kill you too if you didn’t behave?

“Poor thing, you’re cold,” he pouted, “don’t worry I’ll keep you warm!”

He carried you back to his bedroom, deciding to deal with the corpses in his pool later and set you down. Manipulating your stunned body like a doll, he unzipped your dress, letting the silky fabric pool at your feet. Pulling you back into his arms he tucked you under the large, warm comforter sliding in after you. His strong fingers made their way all over your body, greedily groping the bare flesh. He lay behind you, spooning you next to his larger form, while he sprinkled dappled kisses over your shoulders and neck.

“That feels nice, doesn’t it?” he asked, lightly nibbling your shoulder.

Terrified, you could only hum in agreement.

“We’re going to have a long, perfect life together, aren’t we little mate?” he asked, his breath stirring the bits of loose hair tucked behind your ear and making tingles shoot up your spine.

You gasped on your words, scared and unsure what to say.

“Just say ‘yes, my love’,” he whispered.

“Yes, my love,” you finally agreed after a moment.

“Good, little mate,” he purred, “you’re so obedient…we’re going to get along just fine.”

#unicorn #unicorn x reader #monster x reader #monster fluff #yandere male #yandere fluff #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere #male yandere #sfw fluff #fantasy fluff #fantasy romance #yandere romantic

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fbfh · 7 months

Text

makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader

wc: 1.5k

pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader

warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is

summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.

song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku

a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah

Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him.

Until now.

“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.

“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”

You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.

“You are in serious need of a facial.”

Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that.

“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.”

You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband.

“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.

“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle.

“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.

“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly. Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face.

“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle.

“Hyaluronic acid.”

Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.

“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?”

“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.

“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”

You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet.

You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.

“What does that do?”

He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful.

“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.”

That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.

You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.

“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.

“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”

“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face.

Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life.

“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself.

“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.

“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”

You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.

“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting.

“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?”

You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little.

“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick x hyperfeminine reader #hyperfeminine reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid x reader #doawk #doawk x reader #yeah no idea where the book thing came from #i literally wasn't even a horse/unicorn kid growing up #i was more into faries #like i liked the horse girl aesthetic ig but i never really got into it #but it's fun #i almost accidentally named a character after a member of paramore so im glad i caught that lol #stay tuned

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months

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Question would beau's horn be sensitive. Could reader lick their horn and get them.... Horn-y?...... I'll see myself out 🚪🚶 💻

Beau's horn is the most sensitive part of their body, especially after they've just casted a spell- any human who tries touches it that isn't darling will get it stabbed straight through their hand if they make an attempt. Beau cares about their appearance almost as much as they care about their darling, but it's so hard to keep their horn polished when they get aroused at the slightest touch. Good thing they have darling now - the duty is entirely their job for now on.... It, and whatever may happen to the unicorn while they're using those hands to clean their horn.

If Darling were to be so brave as to lick their horn...Beau would like to think of a punishment for them for doing so without permission first - if the stimulation wasn't shattering enough to leave them unable to utter a word properly for a while

#Beau my oc #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere unicorn

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pettydollie · 2 months

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OMG CHRIS MAKING A TIKTOK WITH YN ASLEEP ON HIS CHEST W THE TEXT "my daily yapping session" AND ITS THE LAST NIGHT I DREAMED I WAS A BOTTLE OF KETCHUP SOUND

lolll i had someone req something like this before

the camera is on you, chris grinning as he records you with the silly audio. you’re snuggled into his chest comfortably and you’re snoring lightly. the video finishes and chris posts it to his account with the caption “my daily yapping session”

about an hour later, you’re awake and you see that he’s posted. you watch the video and like it immediately, a smile coming to your face. you go into the comments and type out “erm actually i dreamed i was a unicorn 😵‍💫”

chris likes the comment and replies, “i dreamed i was a burger”

#very random idk what’s wrong w me #i actually did dream i was a unicorn once #it was very fun as you can imagine #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

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brittle-doughie · 4 months

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At the final episode of The Last Cookie Standing, does that mean Crean Unicorn Cookie can have Y/n Cookie?

Pretty much, but it can’t be so bad. It would be worse if Affogato won, because you’d have a raging Caramel Arrow Cookie trying every way she can to sabotage it.

Cream Unicorn Cookie she can at least trust enough that he won’t have anything sinister planned for you.

#brittle answers #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #crk #cream unicorn cookie #cookie run kingdom x reader #caramel arrow cookie

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dhampling · 3 months

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sylvan gn!reader, 2.8k

THIS IS IT! THE UNICORN FIC! ALSO COINCIDENTALLY A 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION PIECE! THANK YOU!!! based on THIS ask, where a chance series of encounters in youth come together on one night, where everything just clicks for Astarion and his unicorn. this has plagued my brain. this is all i know now. i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it. wc: 2.8k c/w: descriptions of mutilation. fluff. reader WAS a unicorn. yippee.

A bed of burning coals. Belly on a smooth stone slab.

Low candlelight as Cazador works, each measured smite into the milky flesh of Astarion’s back feels akin to a dull goring; blood a balm of cooling as it spills.

A mouldering steak.

With each biting shovel of the gouging blade he knows this is a horribly permanent form of disfigurement.

The pale face in the very periphery of his waning vision, flickering often to look at some tome of reference before conferring with Dufay in frequent sharp whispers.

He wipes the skin to clear his canvas after each twist of his tool. A searing rag. He can feel the fluff, the grit, as it settles deep into the exposed sticky blazing valleys between his shoulder blades. He feels the birth of rancid infection. The prickle of each and every prick along his tendons that the debris sets alight.

He knows little else in this moment.

He knows his limbs are useless in tight leather binds, but that this isn’t a case of reprimand as a flaying or a visit to the kennels may be. He’s been good this month. He hasn’t pushed his luck, nor toed the line. He hasn’t even seen Godey in a four tenday.

He knows that the gods can’t hear him down here, wherever here is. He was mercifully sedated at one point, but now all that remained were the paralytic properties of whatever was in the chalice presented oh-so-mightily to him at dinner. That his foetid, mortified carcass won’t allow him to howl, or whine, or scream.

He thinks that he had a similar tool to this when he was young.

He remembers the cool blunt edge in the kitchens and running the tip of his small thumb along it. Feeling it in his pocket, warmed by the heat of his still-breathing body. Sitting in the forest just the other side of the fence with a small wicker basket of apples beside him. Woven blanket underneath linen tunic, woollen overcoat despite the early Kythorn sun; juices running down his little chin as he looked up at the birds singing through the canopy of trees.

He then remembers his mother’s beckon call, leaving the cores to rot on the peaty floor; seeing the yellowing flesh dotted with twigs and brown leaves, glistening still.

“Are you coming?” He whispers sharply, head peering around the yawning mouth of your tent.

You stretch and roll your wrists, freeing your eyes of sleep with a soft rub.

“Hm?”

Astarion clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. You look at him in a daze.

He bristles in the post-gloaming purple dusk, your amber candlelight bringing his face warmth as his eyes scan your face. Behind him you can see a tapestry of stars starting to form in the sky.

His head shakes a little. Claps once. Incredulous.

Oh.

“Overslept.” You mumble. He sighs.

“Gods.’

Pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

‘You have five minutes before I pull you out of this foetid little pit, whatever state you’re in.”

He turns on his heel.

“Is that a threat?” You shout after him.

His head ducks quickly back in.

“A promise. Just so we’re clear.”

A nap in the thulsun heat. A day of rest. Astarion ‘knock, knock’-ing on your tent flap as you read and slinking in like a cat, perching precariously on the chair you use to throw your unwashed armour onto after battle. Several quips about the smell. You threw a pillow at him. Hard. He repostured and continued on breezily.

He’d ‘gotten wind’ of a gathering happening on the beach twenty minutes from camp. Scavengers finishing up at the Nautiloid wreckage throwing some debauched farewell to the Ravaged Beach before some bastardised mercenary force comes in to begin clean up. All the good stuff now gone, but plenty of wine; and, obviously, an opportunity for ‘a little bit of fun’.

He’d blinked at you coquettishly, leaning on the back of the chair, daring you to ask just how he’d gotten wind of such an event.

It’s rare you’ve bounced off another with such ease since your change. You’re too intelligent for his seduction techniques - the ones you hear him rehearsing quietly to himself from his tent each evening - to work the simple way he intends. That doesn’t mean the pale elf has had no effect on you, however.

You take comfort in knowing exactly how you’ll find him every time you look, and he’ll always be ever so pleased to hear that you have been looking.

A wink. A flash of those porcelain white fangs.

An invite to your bedroll for the most sordid of midnight snacks.

Chatter between friends, an ever-present whiff of flirtation; the quirk of a moonlit lip and the pleasure of mutual relief in the dead of night.

You fumble around the darkened tent in underwear searching for your discarded camp clothes as his fire-lit silhouette lingers outside.

Astarion thinks about the apples from time to time.

Tough, yet yielding. Biting. Sweet flesh bursting in season, ripe and white. Scraps of red skin stuck between hungry teeth. Seeds in their hard little hollows, stalks with small dry leaves. The way the juice ran so freely down his chin in the light of the sun and dampened the back of his hand as he’d wiped it away.

His full wicker basket empty by afternoon.

Highsun courtyard feasts. He remembers the animals; his mother joking with beaming eyes and a wine-dipped cheer about his ‘druidic potential’ as she held him close, hand on his head, the other on his chest, he stood against her legs as she wittered. Time spent watching for an opportunity to slip through the gate and sit in silence with the birds.

Cazador trenches into his back deeper this time. What Astarion assumes must be blood spatters into his hair with the force of flying blue jay shit, and he’d know.

He remembers the first time he saw the unicorns in the forest, how bewildered he felt. Startling white in such vivid contrast to the surrounding browns and greens.

They weren’t skittish like the deer were, nor could they have been ‘lost property’ like the horses who often roamed by. The kobolds were mean to him on more than one occasion and the boars who passed were simple creatures.

As a decisive yank is made and the gouging tool changes direction, fully embedded in the flesh it tears, he thinks about the smallest one.

Despite being fraught with innuendo and obvious peacocking, Astarion’s company is a reassuring distraction from your current tadpole predicament. A parody of traditional pursuit wrapped in genuine affection. He knows he doesn’t have to bring the bravado, because you’ll play along regardless.

And this eventide, alongside the fallen Nautiloid; he glows.

Skin soaked in the deep gloaming ambers and yellows of the campfire. Laugh of treacle, like a dozing highsun; a dawn chant on Lathander’s day - he tips his head back in a cotton lull and the quiet threat of his smile brimming through his sharp incisors devastates you.

You watch on from the open mouth of a scavenger tent astride a pile of pillows and blankets, surrounded in distant light and pilfered goods. A warm breeze carries the firesmoke and to your side is a newfound silver chalice full to the brim with heady Arabellan Dry.

He looks every part the favourite of the gods.

Sways gently in his seat. Imbibes generously. Lifts his arms wide in gesticulation with oft-rotating conversational partners and tells stories in hushed tones with the most salacious quirk threatening his brow.

Occasionally throughout your jaunt, you’ll wonder if he should be holding your mind like this.

Then his eyes meet yours.

Gods.

It feels like they all watch as he moves to you. Adonis in the flesh; effusive as his fingers circle the rim of his glass and he sinks to crossed legs beside you. Face by face.

“I am so fucking bored.” He mutters. Smiles widely at a passing new acquaintance before sighing a grumble.

“Which one was ‘bored’ again?” You peer mockingly into the crowds, searching with a hand resting atop your tired brow.

He elbows you. Hard.

“You sound remarkably sour, pet.”

“I’m not sour. I’ve had a beautiful evening” You sip. A gentle breeze rolls over you.

Astarion lolls his head back a little.

“Beautiful wasn’t really the plan though, was it?”

You turn to him. Narrow your eyes just the smallest bit.

Astarion tilts back and looks to the sky. He opens his mouth as if to speak. Closes it just as fast.

“What?”

You picture him falling in love with every single one he’d spoken to on the beach this evening; lifting locks of hair around nimbly twirling fingers and pulling another warm body closer. Tilting his head downwards, eyes remaining forward; struggling for words in covetous gasps. Seduction.

A small laugh. Gods.

“Beautiful. Fucking a stranger in a beach cove isn’t necessarily what I’d call beautiful, dearest.”

“That was your plan?”

“Wasn’t it yours?”

You stop for a good moment. Astarion clicks his tongue in thought. Blinks with the urgency of dripping treacle.

Gods. The memory alone would be enough to bring a smile to his face, and he remembers it so very vividly.

The apples. A baby unicorn.

One late Elient afternoon, the first time any of them had approached. His fingers stickied with juice. It didn’t appear to be cautious by any discernible means, refusing the peel he’d hesitantly offered far out on the flat of his palm.

Little thing. Just about his size, he thinks; and he was always small.

He remembers sniffing with a cold and haphazardly wiping his sticky fingers on the front of his coat. Reaching out so it could smell him.

Chewing open-mouthed, eyes closed, smoothing his face with the back of his hand.

They’d fall about together on feeble legs, his flailing arms and gentle nudges. Days on days spent venturing into the forest where it’d be waiting for him in the same clearing as always.

He remembers easing into the apple flesh with the tool edge and gently wiggling it into the crisp white to ensure a deep enough pit. Skimming imperfect rounds of the skin. Bouncing the resulting red spiral between his thumb and forefinger.

Cazador reaches for the dagger. A hundred-thousand molten pins.

The moon overhead. Unwavering in clarity. It almost feels like you’re on the precipice of a different world.

“You’re weird, you know.’ Astarion breaks his silence. The revellers continue to drink, to dance and talk clumsily around you.

Your eyes meet his. He wavers on the edge of certainty, but the performative lowering of his lids shows you he isn’t too sure. There’s a front to the nonchalance.

‘What are you?”

“Hm?”

“Fun. I said there’d be fun. You aren’t partaking.’ He takes a sip and swills it around his mouth whilst collecting his thoughts. The dossier. Racking through pages in his brain.

‘I can’t be completely sure, but I’ve met a lot of humans in my life. Seduced them. Given and taken like a market teller.’

His hands move as he speaks, a considered pattern of gesticulation.

‘And you simply… you’re above it all. You don’t even smell human. What are you?”

There it is. If you weren’t inebriated you’d be tempted to laugh him off.

Tonight, however; your bones are thoroughly wine-sodden.

Your companion has a twinkle in his eye. A beach of prospective lovers and he has collapsed at your side in respite. If he persecutes you as they would then you’ll die with his face the last thing you see. It doesn’t feel like a bad compromise.

“Not human.” You confirm, looking at your fingernails with a pert nod.

He laughs in a slight of vindication.

“Try me.”

“Sylvan.”

You can’t be sure if it’s from embarrassment or underlying fear that your head falls into your sweaty hands. Astarion’s snide streak plays at the fray of your mind.

“What? Half wood-elf or something?”

He sips.

“Unicorn.” You lift your fingers and flutter them around the sides of your head meekly.

Splutters.

“Explains why there are none roaming the actual woods anymore, I suppose.”

He’s taken it surprisingly well, all things considered. You aren’t sure what you’d expected. A minute of silence. The lazy roll of waves along the shore.

“What do I smell like?”

Maybe he’s wary of the driftwood stake near your hand.

“Apples. People don’t smell like apples. Usually sweat. Or perfume.’ He runs his tongue over his teeth and sniffs.

‘Not apples. I should’ve -”

Apples. A softness in the way he says it, you note. Favoured fruit in the allotments running the edge of the forests.

‘I’ve not had an apple in so long.”

He finishes with a wistful smile, topping off the wine in hand and refilling it with a swift glug.

“Do you miss them?”

“Apples? I-’

The cogs turn slowly - he wets his bottom lip and looks to the sky once more. His brow furrows as you watch him think.

‘I used to sit in the forest, just around the back of the garden wall. I was about- I’d have been about up to here?’ He lifts his arm to just above where his sitting head rests.

‘I was tiny. All day long. Peeling the skin, gnawing away. Ironic.”

Pauses as if in remembrance of something. Grimaces.

You smile fondly and reach for his arm. You’re willing to entertain the line of dialogue. It distracts from the situation and he seems open to indulging in it.

“Funny.”

He scoffs and taps your hand softly before taking it in his. Cool fingers lock around yours.

“How so?”

“Gods, a long time ago now - there was a boy I met who did the same thing. Fascinated by them. Would sit and peel them with a little tool. Strange thing.”

You take a sip as you imitate the focus of the young thing, pretending to work tunnels into the cooling air with your near-empty chalice.

Astarion whips his head to face yours.

“Two hundred years ago?”

“Why?’

He’s watching you as if you’re holding something very fragile in your faux-gouging fingers.

‘I suppose so? Round about then. Bit longer, maybe two hundred and th-”

“Me. It was me.”

Your eyes meet.

It’s the kind of moment you’ve read about in your downtime, the way the clock stops. Everything feels silent. The sea stops rolling soft on the shore, the voices around you are naught above a whisper; the glass in the hand not clutching yours set firmly on the sand as he shuffles to face you head on.

Apples.

You watch his eyes soften wholly. Not a single ounce of guard; no sense of hesitation. Two glimmering rubies in the moonlight.

“His eyes weren’t red.” You smile.

It takes a moment for him to react. He’s studying your face reverently, with newfound interest; mapping each of the lines and blemishes with a hand hovering over your cheek.

And then he laughs. The most beautiful sound in all the realms, melodic.

“They weren’t.’

He points to the scarred fang marks above his sagging collar.

‘I was also alive at that point.’

Astarion takes a few comfortable minutes to look at you as he strokes over your hand with his thumb. You’ve spent enough of the past few weeks looking over him to know him almost by heart but you’ll indulge with the context of the revelation before you.

“Look at us now, then.”

Your voice cracks. You didn’t realise the sheer size of the lump in your throat.

“I -’

He presses his free hand to your cheek as he did when you were both young. Soft. Jowls ablaze at his wine-sticky touch.

The sincerity in his gaze is brutal. If you weren’t so deeply enamoured you might just vomit.

‘The longest night of my life, I thought of you. The apples. How -’

Astarion takes a moment to survey you. You obviously look nothing like you did back then, aside from the brightest eyes he’s ever seen in all two hundred and thirty nine years of life and the same softness in how they revere him.

‘How you never came back. I waited.’

It’s then that you crumble.

‘How happy I knew I’d be when you did return.”

It’s cataclysmic, the way he talks. The last person who was kind to you and he thought you’d left him by choice this whole time. Remembering you in his darkest moments. All you’ve both suffered and here you are, on this rancid beach in the middle of nowhere; your hand safe in his.

“It wasn’t by choice. Never.”

The look on his face suggests he’s toying with the idea of playing the fair maiden, but he sees the way you crack and almost takes to tears himself.

“Well. You’re here now, and we have a lot of lost time to make up for. It helps that I was already fond of you, of course.”

He brushes the hair from your face and plants a deep kiss on your forehead as you bring your arms around his waist, hesitantly.

It’s a start.

One you’d never have seen coming when waking aboard the crashed nautiloid in front of you; but glorious nonetheless.

#astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #unicorn stuff

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gurugirl · 4 months

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Sneaky for part 3 of unicorn? I'm so excited guru you don't understand!

I'm so glad you're excited!!! I'm just over 4800 words into part 3 now. I'll give you a little something below the cut :) Thank you!!

I would give you guys more but there's so much going on in this part that some bits would just give too much away. Also this is raw from my drafts and not edited or proofread so the final version might look a little different. xoxo

Part 1 | Part 2

Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.

You lost badly at the first game of darts which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.

Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.

“Another pitcher of beer?” The guy asked, bringing your attention back to him.

“Oh! Yes, please.”

With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then to the table next to the window.

You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.

He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.

You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked back to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?

“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”

After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.

“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.

He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”

“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“

“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.

Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.

“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.

“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”

You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”

He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”

You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”

“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”

You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.

Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.

“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn to start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take some lessons.”

“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.

Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.

“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”

You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.

“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”

You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.

“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.

You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by, headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.

Tags (for The Unicorn): @littlenatilda @harryspirate @itsmytimetoodream @princessaxoo @summertime-pills @egirlshit @chesthairrry @idontknowbi @f1n3l1n3 @tpwk-sophie @justtilly @fictionalmensblog @harrrystyles5 @gem1712

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fandomnerd9602 · 1 year

Text

Y/N holds Wade as it appears Deadpool is about to die…

Wade: you know (coughs) we made a good team

Y/N: we did, Wade

Wade takes a hold of Y/N’s face

Wade: and In some other universe…I would’ve loved doing laundry and taxes with you

Y/N: dammit Wade!! A meme reference?!

Wade jumps up and runs away…

Wade: scroll to the next one, reader!! Quick!!!

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position-list-sometimes · 8 days

Text

#tmnt 2012 #fire emblem heroes #aspec #Stranger Things #black girls of tumblr #unicorn #stranger things x reader #the maze runner #message me #Toonami #sunmi #kurt hummel #$uicideboy$#nicholas hoult

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flowersandbigteeth · 6 months

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Hello lovely, how are you doing? Can I make a request for some more of my unicorn writing? I'm asking as your writing cheers me up and I fell yesterday and broke both my legs... Arianna-irwynarn

This is just a little thing ^_^ I hope it makes you feel a little better!

Unicorn (Ainsel) x fem reader

General Plot: Your unicorn boyfriend takes you to a party

Word count: 2.5K

TW: murder, yandere behaviors, SFW yandere fluff, side character death, murder

For previous part and more yandere fluff, go here

“I can’t believe those fools called in a welfare check!” Ainsel growled. “You are completely safe with me!”

You blinked at Ainsel over your breakfast. His chef had made some kind of fancy eggs benedict and you were savoring it. Your new boyfriend was a lunatic, but he provided the best of everything, so you tried to enjoy it.

“Well, I didn’t show up for work, and I haven’t been answering my phone, Ainsel,” you said. “Of course, they were worried about me. I told you I can’t just disappear, I have friends and family that are worried about me! It’s fortunate they accepted the excuse that I’d just fallen passionately in love and lost my senses and didn’t come here to kick down the door.”

Ainsel wrinkled his elegant nose across the table from you.

“They don’t deserve your attention,” he growled. “I don’t want to go to this party.”

Your friend Josh, the owner of the new restaurant in town, had invited you to his house for a party. You’d convinced Ainsel that showing up would keep your friends from freaking out again and sending the police after you.

“Don’t be silly, Ainsel,” you sighed. “I obviously belong to you. You know that, but wouldn’t it be nice to have some friends, too? Your dad and mom kept you on a short leash…they wanted to keep you isolated so you wouldn’t fall in love with a human. If you don’t try to make any friends, you’re just falling into the trap they set for you.”

Ainsel tipped his handsome head and ran a hand through his shiny black hair.

“I guess,” he muttered, picking at his food.

—

“I don’t like that one,” Ainsel huffed as you tried on dresses for the party. “It’s too revealing.”

You chuffed at him.

“I’ve been trying on dresses for an hour!” you complained. “You bought all of these! You have to like one of them!”

He stood and crossed the room from where he’d been lounging on the bed.

“I bought them for me to see,” he said. “Not your lecherous friends!”

You rolled your eyes.

“They are not lecherous; if anyone is going to be looking at one of us, it will be them looking at you, Ainsel,” you huffed. “You’re stunning, I’m just a normal person. I should be the jealous one!”

“Chk,” he clucked, looking over your shoulder at the dresses hanging in the closet. “Wear this one.”

He passed you a designer dress with a pleated skirt that fell below your knees and sheer long sleeves. It was very pretty and modest. You almost chuckled, as the dresses Ainsel had you wearing in the house were the exact opposite and almost X-rated.

You carefully did your makeup at your vanity while Ainsel dressed himself in one of his trim suits. Even though he was absolutely insane, he was very handsome, and it was hard not to look at him.

His personality with the public (charming, debonair, confident) was completely different from what he showed you in private (insecure, demanding, needy). He hardly let you at an arm’s length, convinced you would run away if you got out of his eyesight for even a moment. That wasn’t entirely false. You found yourself conflicted.

He was extremely good in bed, gorgeous, and when he wasn’t giving you puppy dog eyes for going to the bathroom without him, he doted on you. No other boyfriend you’d had before had been so dedicated. On the other hand, you knew he was a murderer and completely unhinged.

You’d gone through five different chefs because he felt they were “looking at you too closely.” Finally, he’d found a woman of about 50 whose gazes were more motherly, and he could tolerate them. He’d outright refused to let you return to your job and cut you off from your friends until they’d gotten worried and called the police.

It was apparent this relationship was unhealthy, but Ainsel scared you. He was a wild card, sometimes exploding into murderous tirades for seemingly no reason at all.

Still, he often indulged you, worried you’d be mad at him. He couldn’t tolerate when you gave him the silent treatment, and his neediness got one million times worse, so you’d managed to talk him into going to this party. You hoped some normalcy would pull him out of this psychotic state.

—

“My house is larger,” Ainsel huffed as you exited the elevator to Josh’s flat.

He made enough money at the restaurant to afford one of those pretty apartments on the top floor with wide balconies overlooking the city.

“It’s not a competition,” you told him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

He gave you a little smile. He adored it when you gave him some attention. You knocked on the door, and Josh answered, his eyes wide, taking you in.

“(Y/N)!” he gasped, immediately pulling you in a big hug. “I’m so glad you came! We were all so worried about you!”

You blushed, and he set you down, trying to avoid the mask of rage you knew was on Ainsel’s face.

“Oh…you know how it is. New relationship energy,” you said. “I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the planet for a few weeks.”

“We were very busy,” Ainsel said tightly, yanking you under his arm.

Josh tried to hide his disdain, but ever the dutiful host, he drew up a smile for the two of you.

“Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters,” she said, waving you inside. “Go and have a drink! I’ll be making the rounds.”

When you made yourself to the bar, your girlfriends surrounded you, full of questions.

“Where have you been?”

“We were so worried about you!”

“Why didn’t you call?”

You waved them all away with vague excuses.

“We were just so caught up…it was a whirlwind romance,” you explained.

“You must accept my apology,” Ainsel told them, turning on the charm. “I fell hard and fast. I hardly let (Y/N) leave my bed for a few weeks. Please forgive me.”

They looked Ainsel up and down; you could tell they understood the situation. Who would want to leave this gorgeous man’s bed?

“But what about your job?” Emily asked. “We called the shop, and Mr. Scott said you’d disappeared.”

Ainsel smirked.

“Again, my fault,” he said. “I can’t stand the idea of my beautiful girlfriend toiling away when I have plenty of money to take care of her. Perhaps I should have handled things differently, but I was overcome with passion.”

Emily blushed as he winked at her and nodded, taking a big gulp of her drink. Your friends quickly accepted Ainsel’s answers, both charmed by him and slightly envious of you.

Since all seemed forgiven, Ainself decided to put his plan into action. He didn’t particularly like you smiling and laughing with anyone but him. He could barely tolerate it if they were your friends, mostly because pleasing them seemed to get him out of the doghouse for kidnapping you.

The real issue was he couldn’t stop noticing Josh, his competitor, glancing at you from across the room. Ainsel felt he was too informal with you, picking up and hugging you like he had a right to your body. Only Ainsel was allowed to touch you, feel your warmth against his skin.

Josh needed to be dealt with, but first, he intended to steal his thunder and show him who you belonged to.

“Just a moment, love,” he said, kissing you on the head and leaving you with your friends to chat while he organized things. He marched across the room back to the bar near where Josh was standing.

There was a mild stand-off as their eyes met before Josh straightened his shoulders and decided to give Ainsel a piece of his mind.

“Can I have a word with you?” Josh asked, nodding to a quiet part of the room.

Ainsel gave him his best innocent smile and nodded.

“Of course,” he said.

When they were out of earshot, his easy smile dropped.

“I don’t like you,” Josh informed him. “What you’re doing to (Y/N) is abusive. Cutting her off from her friends, making her quit her job. Look, I get it, I do. (Y/N) is gorgeous and incredibly sweet, but you are taking advantage of her submissive heart. I don’t know how it is in unicorn culture, but humans don’t do that to their significant others. I am not going to let you abuse her.”

Ainsel’s elegant eyebrow raised at the challenge.

“What exactly do you plan on doing about it?” he asked, smirking at his enemy.

“I’ve known (Y/N) for years,” he said. “She’ll listen to me. She’ll leave you.”

Ainsel snorted.

“You’ve known her all this time and never made a move?” he asked. “It’s obvious you’re in love with her, yet you let me, a stranger, swoop in and grab her up without even a fight. Now you’re threatening me?”

He laughed out loud.

“You’re pathetic,” he said, smiling. “But I hope you enjoy the fireworks.”

Josh had no idea what that meant, glaring at Ainsel as he walked away. He would have immediately gone to you, to talk, but Ainsel picked up the microphone the DJ had been using and announced he had a special surprise for the party.

He invited everyone onto the balcony.

You looked at him, confused at what he was up to, but you followed the crowd outside like the rest of the guests. Ainsel caught you by the elbow and pulled you up to the front. With you by his side, he turned to his audience, still holding the microphone.

“I want to thank all of (Y/N)’s friends for coming tonight,” he said. “I know she’s been hard to get a hold of for the past few weeks, but that’s all been my fault. I want to thank you all for keeping her in your thoughts and worrying about her. I was a little selfish, I admit, but who wouldn’t be for this beautiful, wonderful woman? Your care for her touched me deeply. That’s why I thought it was only right to share this special moment with all of you.”

His eyes flashed.

“Especially Josh,” he smirked. “Thank you for this party and for giving me the opportunity to express my apologies as well as my passion for my lovely (Y/N).”

Suddenly, music started playing, songs from the playlist on your laptop– your favorites and there was a loud pop. You turned, looking out over the city to see a display of fireworks Ainsel had organized, sparkling, and exploding along with the music. Your mouth dropped, as did most of the guests.

He finally turned to you.

“I only wish for your happiness, my love,” he said.

The fireworks were enough to take your breath away, but what really leveled you were the words set up on the opposite building in massive letters made of lights.

WILL YOU MARRY ME, (Y/N)?

You turned back to Ainsel, looking for an explanation, but he was on one knee, holding a beautiful, massive engagement ring to you. Glancing up, everyone was staring at you, eyes bright with excitement. You could have said no and embarrassed him, but you had no idea what he would do, who he would kill if you refused him. So, practically dumbfounded, you nodded a silent “yes.”

His eyes glowed, fireworks reflected in them, and his face was pure joy. He slid the giant diamond, surrounded by more diamonds, on your finger, and everyone clapped. Everyone except Josh who was seething in the corner. Not only had Ainsel made his party all about him, but he’d also cemented your position as the unicorn’s fiancee.

When Ainsel rose, he pulled you in for a deep kiss while your friends cheered and whistled. Your eyes stung for a moment. Ainsel was a nut case, but this was a beautiful proposal. You couldn’t help but feel spoiled and adored as the fireworks continued to burst behind the two of you. He hadn’t done it in some private place. He’d kindly included all of your friends, which you knew was very difficult for him, and touched you.

He had to reluctantly let you go when your girlfriends surrounded you, wanting to look at the ring. They showered you with praise for how lucky you were and what a fantastic guy Ainsel was.

Several of your male friends, who had no personal interest in you romantically, pulled him to the side to share a drink, toasting his excellent proposal. A few of them joked that now they were going to have to think of something even more elaborate to impress their girlfriends after this. Ainsel was sure to give Josh, who glared at him from across the room, a satisfied, smug smile.

As the fireworks finished, one of the guys ordered you all inside for more toasts and drinks to celebrate the occasion. A few guys popped some bottles of Josh’s most expensive champagne, thinking he’d bought it for the proposal, ushering you inside. Of course, they all thought Josh had helped Ainsel organize this, so they patted him on the shoulder as they passed him for being such a good host.

Soon, only Ainsel and Josh were on the balcony, as your friends had pulled you in with them to take photos, commemorating the occasion. At that point, everyone was nice and buzzed, thinking of nothing but celebrating your engagement to a handsome unicorn.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Josh spat.

Ainsel’s eyes flashed, and he moved so their chests almost touched.

“You want to know what else I am?” Ainsel asked, his voice sharp as vinegar.

Josh blinked, confused, but Ainsel was happy to tell him.

“I’m a murderer,” he said, grinning an unhinged grin as he used his magic to stun Josh just enough that he didn’t fight or scream as Ainsel shoved him off of the balcony. He fell thirty stories to hit the ground with a wet thud, dead from a broken neck.

Ainsel straightened his jacket and returned inside, where everyone was too drunk at that point to even notice Josh was missing. To prevent anyone from disturbing the rest of his party, he’d cast a spell over Josh just before he pushed him that would make him invisible to passers-by until much later in the night, long after he’d taken you home to celebrate your engagement privately.

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