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haeryna · 3 months

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i would give up heaven if i had to ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ✶.ೃ࿔*.

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summary: sugar melts saccharide sweet on his tongue, and yet the taste in his mouth is so very bitter. the look in suguru's eyes tells him more than any words could. they'd messed up; badly.

tw: angst but melancholic? mentions of illness, mentions of abandonment, reader has a healthy relationship with their parents, author uses switches between "gojo/geto" and "satoru/suguru" to denote emotions. food as a metaphor for love. not proofread. author is extremely tired

notes: title taken from enhyphen's "sweet venom (english version)." a shorter chapter to kind of fill in the gaps. banner from @/cafekitsune

It's been a week since Gojo and Geto showed up at your doorstep and ever since then, you've been filled with a pervasive sense of anxiety. After the whole six hours they spent pleading outside your door (you shudder just thinking about it), they had been uncharacteristically silent. It had gotten to the point where you felt almost a bit insane, peeking your head out the door to check outside if anyone was waiting for you, before you left for work.

It didn't matter if it had been five years, or five days. You knew them better than you'd even known yourself. The freckle on Suguru's collarbone. The barely noticeable scar on Satoru's arm. How Suguru preferred tea, black, and always expensive, while Satoru's guilty pleasure was instant coffee with ungodly amounts of syrups and sugars added to it. You knew them, and therefore you knew that the silence was suspicious. Even as children, whenever you'd get into fights, they would be even clingier than usual, as if they were desperate to reaffirm that you were still there.

So why was it so quiet?

The scream of the tea kettle startles you out of your thoughts and you flinch, hastily moving to remove it from the stove. Why should you care? The audacity they'd had, coming to your doorstep on a whim, before claiming they had no choice. Your thoughts are more bitter than the medicine you mix into your parents' tea. Satoru had been undoubtably hysterical once his parents had found out. You couldn't blame him for that. But Suguru had been the one to call all the shots, buying two plane tickets instead of three.

What if they couldn't afford a third one?

You shake your head, as if you could physically shake the thought. It doesn't matter now, you think viciously, as you stack the cups on a tray. Five years was a long time to go without seeing someone for. Fame and wealth changed people, and you were no stranger to the heavy influence they both exerted upon the music industry. Besides, it's not like your address had changed since they'd left. They could've found you whenever they wanted to.

"You never left?"

The cups rattle dangerously as you carry them to your parents' room. Your mother is sitting up in bed, staring longingly out the window. Your father must be outside, soaking up the last few rays of sunshine before the sun started to set. Gently, you set the tray down on the nightstand. "I have your medicine, Mom."

Your mother smiles, but there's a fragile kind of sadness to it. "When were you going to tell us?"

Heavy resignation falls over you as you sigh, shoulders slumping. "I didn't want to worry you and Dad while you were away at the hospital. It wasn't that big of a deal-"

Your mother cuts you off, eyes firm but gentle. "Dear, please. I saw how happy you were when all three of you were together, and how devastated you were when they left. I just..." She hesitates before continuing. "I don't want you to live your life with regrets. Especially because of your father and I. You deserve to be happy too."

"I am happy," you protest fiercely, but she shakes her head. "You had such lofty dreams. And now, your father and I are the ones holding you back. Life is too short to have regrets like yours at such a young age."

"It just hurt so badly," you whisper, as you take a seat at the end of the bed. Your mother reaches over to intertwine her fingers with yours.

"I know, dear. But which is greater; the love for the things they did do, or the pain for all the things they didn't?"

Your mother's words ring through your ears as you blearily stare into your coffee cup. While the insurance helped, there were still bills to pay, and food to put on the table. You'd stayed up all night finishing work for your remote office job, before taking the short bus ride to the cafe you worked at during the day. The world spins briefly. You would kill for a good night's sleep.

The door chimes and grimacing, you down the rest of your coffee, before pasting a cheery smile onto your face.

"Welcome, how may I help..."

Sator- Gojo stares at you from the other end of the counter. Even with the cheap medical mask he's wearing, the blue eyes and white hair are enough to have your coworkers whispering behind you.

"...you," you finish lamely, immediately looking down at cash register. Why was he here? Especially in the town over? More importantly, why hadn't he gone back to Asia yet? Cursing, you study the bills lined up neatly in the till. Gojo says your name, softly, and the whispers behind you intensify.

"That's me!" you chirp, forcing yourself to point at your nametag. The tips were nice here, and you couldn't afford to find a new job. The pitying stares from everyone back in your hometown was already suffocating enough; gaining the attention from Gojo's rabid fangirls would probably push you over the edge. "Is there anything in particular that you like? Our customers really love the caramel crunch latte."

There's a tone to his voice that you can't place when he finally speaks. "Yeah, I'll take one of those. Extra sweet. Do you happen to have any tea here?"

The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. "Unfortunately, we only have one drink that features black tea."

Fuck.

You can feel Gojo's gaze, searing into your face as you stubbornly continue to stare at the counter. "Sure, I'll take one of those."

Numbly, you recite the total to him. As he hands you his credit card, you can see your hand shake as you reach out to grab it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You should've forgotten everything about them when they left.

But you couldn't. You never could.

You hand his card back, but a firm hand on your wrist forces the air out of your lungs. Eyes wide, you peer up at Gojo in shock. His eyes are filled with an intensity that you've never seen before. "How much do I have to tip you in order for you to be the one to make our drinks?"

His grip is firm but not bruising, even as you try to tug your hand back. "I can assure you, our baristas-"

"I don't care," he interrupts. "I want you to do it. You're the only one who can do it." The final part of his statement is so soft that you barely catch it. "It's only ever been you."

You have the horrible feeling that the two of you are no longer talking about extra sweet lattes and London Fogs. The whispers are getting so loud now that you yank your hand back and give him a strained smile. "I suppose I can." At this point, you'll do anything to stop talking with him.

As you busy yourself around the cafe, you hate how easy it is to make the two drinks. Extra caramel; Satoru always loved when his coffee was practically infused with it. You grab the filtered water, running it through a filter several more times. Suguru always insisted tea tasted better the more filtered the water was. You heat the water as you crush up small caramel candies. Satoru enjoyed when his drinks had a little something he could chew on. The tea was steeped for five minutes, exactly. You added lavender and vanilla syrup. When Suguru had made you try a London Fog for the first time in ninth grade, you'd teased him for the "oddly pretentious taste." A splash of milk. An extra large heaping of whipped cream.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you can feel the pain in your heart form the salt of your tears. "Lizzie," you call out. "Can you deliver this to the customer? I'm going on my ten minute." Not waiting for a response, you dash into the bathroom, barely slamming the door behind you as you let the first of your tears fall.

"Toru! Toru!"

"What?" he snaps. Undeterred, you rush up to him, bright pink lunchbox clutched in one hand. "Sugu said you forgot your lunch at home, but it's okay! We pooled our allowance together, so Sugu's in line for the cafeteria right now"

A rush of warmth fills his chest. "You shouldn't have," he protests, but you wave it away. "Mama always says that food is meant to be shared, especially with people you love! And it wouldn't feel right eating without you."

The school onigiri had never tasted good, but that day, Satoru had savored every bite.

Satoru stares at the teenager who'd called his name, wringing her apron nervously, before taking the offered cups. "Thank you." Where had you gone?

"Can I get your autograph?" she blurts out, and Satoru winces. His cover had been completely blown. Suguru's not going to be pleased, he thinks wryly. Yet as he dutifully signs his name on the provided paper, his mind wanders to you. Your hands had been shaking. Were you cold? Tired? Or was it his fault? Briefly, he considers sticking around, before quickly dismissing that idea. You clearly wanted to avoid being associated with him, and although the thought makes his stomach twist, he understands it as much as he hates it.

The walk back to the hotel is short. Satoru's mind is a mess. The bags under your eyes rivalled Shoko's. Were you taking care of yourself? You seemed thinner, too. The sick feeling inside him only grows, festering into something ugly. He dutifully ignores it (like he has been the past five years) and takes a sip of the latte you made, freezing.

Every time all four of you had gone over to your house after school, you'd always insisted on making snacks for the three of them. The coffee tastes like sunny afternoons, and bright laughter, of your voice teasing Satoru for the sheer amount of sugar you'd have to put in his drinks. Caramel seeps into his system, and unbidden, he thinks of your eyes, watching him with a hint of apprehension and exhaustion.

When had it gone so wrong?

Suguru is lounging on the couch as he enters. "What took you so long?" Suguru grumbles, reaching for the other cup. It takes Satoru a moment to respond.

"She was working at the cafe."

"Is that so?" Suguru murmurs, taking a sip of his own drink. Immediately, he tenses, eyes stunned. "Did she-"

"Yeah."

"It tastes kind of like-"

"I know."

The two lapse into silence. You'd had so much love to give that it had practically overflowed. Food was just one aspect of it. Some days, you'd even give up parts of your lunch, insisting that Satoru or Suguru take a bite. He thinks of the way you'd hold him, the way you'd leave him encouraging notes in his locker, how you'd save up allowance to buy small things that reminded you of them. How you'd keep extra hair ties on your wrist for Suguru, and how you'd always keep a plastic water bottle in your bag for Shoko. How many times had they taken it for granted, taken you for granted?

"She looked so exhausted, Sugu. She's got these real dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn't slept in a while. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes were so dull, and so lifeless. I..." Satoru closes his eyes. "I think I would give up anything for her. Music, fame, money. I forgot what it was like, being with her. I felt alive, even though she could barely even look at me."

"I think the worst part is that she really thought we wanted to leave her behind," Suguru says, miserably. "It's all my fault, I was in such a hurry to get us out of there that I didn't say goodbye at all."

"You're not the only one to blame." Satoru's voice is sharp. "We both knew where she lived. We could've called her house phone, saved her number to our new phones from her parents."

"Will she ever forgive us?"

The way they'd heard you wailing from behind the door had torn their heart in two. They never wanted to hear you make those noises again, especially with the agonizing knowledge that it had been their fault.

"I don't know," Satoru says, truthfully. "But I can't even think about returning to music until she knows just how much we really love her."

#haerinwrites #idol!satoru gojo #rockstar!suguru geto #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x suguru x reader #gojo x geto x reader

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jxsterr · 8 months

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i just might not be in the right circles but i don’t think we realise just how fucked up puppet zelda was for link to have to encounter. like the one thing that stuck out to me SPECIFICALLY was the crisis at hyrule castle questline that has link hopelessly run around after something that looks like zelda and sounds enough like her but you know there’s something deeply wrong. it was enough to disturb me when i played through it, just how close her voice was to being correct but being too solemn, being just a little too wispy, too repetitive. there’s so many things about the way she speaks that’s only a little bit off, something that a man like link, blinded and delusional by grief, would miss. he’d know deep down in his gut something is wrong, it sounds so much like her but nothing like her at the same time. every time she beckons for him his chest tightens and he feels sick and he doesn’t know why, but he does deep down. he knows this isn’t her, can’t be her, or that if it is something is deeply wrong and both outcomes are less than desirable. it’s so fucked up because realistically he isn’t going to know if he’s ever going to see her again. for all he knows she could remain wandering the putrid soils of the depths for the rest of time, but here her corpse is, being paraded around as if she truly was zelda when she’s nothing but an imposter in the skin of his lover.

so he runs and runs and fights tooth and nail for her and continuously gets close enough to just about touch her but then she disappears and almost taunts him, tells him she’s waiting and he’s growing frustrated because goddess why won’t you just stay put and let me come to you?? i’m coming, i’m trying but you keep running from me. please stop running from me. his mind is begging, pleading for her, screaming i need you i need you like a lost child because he is without her. he’s lost and a shell of the man he used to be, she is his other half and without her he’s downright nonfunctional. and despite the heartbreak of her constantly disappearing he still keeps trying, keeps following her and grows more and more desperate because he’s so close and now they’re in the sanctum and she’s stopped and maybe this is his chance so he takes a step forward and she’s doing it again. she’s taunting him, dancing around him while all he can do is turn around aimlessly in an attempt to follow her. but even then he doesn’t stop for a moment to think if this is zelda, what she’s doing is cruel because he’s far too hung up on the possibility of her being with him again he doesn’t even stop to get upset at her, doesn’t question why she’s torturing him and keeps his focus on getting to her. it’s things like this that show you why zelda has so much trust that he will be able to defeat ganondorf because he’s never stopped chasing after her and saving the world for her and he never will. she could fall and he would catch her, she could die and he would save her, she could be a husk of who she once was and he would still love her. it’s undying loyalty, unwavering love and determination to make sure she’s okay because to him, zelda is everything.

but then she stops and gets so close he could walk over there and hold her again but it’s a lie. it all was. it’s nothing short of desvastating because even though he knew something was awry it still hurts to be proven right. to have scars so painfully ripped open again knowing that he’s back to square one. the emotional turmoil that that must have put him through had to have been insane, if not soul crushing. he’d be inconsolable, sobbing and cursing the very ground ganondorf stood upon to the point where the sages would have to escort him out of the sanctum only for him to fight them because they’re the only people he can take anything out on right now. but it’s not fair because it’s not their fault, and the way that riju hushes him and does her best to speak soothingly while sidon rubs his back makes him feel all the more guilty. so they all stay there, tulin and yunobo on high alert while link is sat on the ground, knees to his chest and weeping because he was so close. he cries and cries until his throat gives out and he’s dehydrated, until sidon has to scoop him up and take him back to lookout landing and he can’t even bear to tell purah what happened but she already knows. nothing breaks through that tough exterior but the dangled hope of zelda’s return being ripped from him. none of the sages want to leave him in this state, so they camp out in lookout landing. tulin does his best to chatter on about all the cool things he’s been doing to stop link from falling completely numb and shutting everything off and it does kind of work, link cracks the slightest of smiles when tulin tells him how he took out an entire monster hideout by himself. he’s lost his world but maybe he can figure out how to keep fighting for her with friends by his side. he’ll just have to see.

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explorevenus · 1 year

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something permanent, pt. 3 ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors ! u know the drill! dni or i will call ur mom

find part 1 here ♡

find part 2 here ♡

find part 4 here ♡

reminder: this is a dark fic, if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, kidnapping, manipulation, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, forced breeding, noncon, stockholm syndrome

word count - 6.9k (nice)

description - despite every alarm bell going off within her, darling attempts an escape. leon does not take kindly to it, and darling grapples with conflicting emotions. oh, and, those six weeks are up.

description/tags - yandere!leon kennedy, dark!leon kennedy, fem/afab!reader, pet names (doll, princess, sweetheart, etc.), forced daddy kink, forced breeding, gaslighting if u squint, degradation, isolation, stockholm syndrome, noncon (kind of dubcon tho if we’re being honest), reader gets restrained, leon is honestly rly mean in this one for a min but he gets better i promise, reader is traumatized, fingering, oral (f receiving), praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

a/n - first of all. THANK U FOR 700 FOLLOWERS. WHAT. THAT’S INSANE. i’m so glad everyone is liking this series and wants to see it continue-- the engagement has been so inspiring and i don’t think i’ve made this much quick progress with my writing in like. months. so thank u ;w; ♡ that being said, as always, my ask box is always open for discussion on this series, i love hearing everyone’s ideas/thoughts/interpretations ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

taglist - @dollrxst @ifeelikeflying @nexyswrites @idekman111 @starcrossedreaders @litepowee @tosuckmyweenis @cosmicerror83 @pb-n-aj @myeowza @honeysoakedbandages

fic below the cut !! thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

- venus ♡

As soon as you heard the front door shut behind him, you switched back to the news channel just to see the faces of your loved ones, if anything else. They took turns speaking of how much they missed you, how worried they were, what they wouldn't give just to know you're unharmed. You could hardly imagine what they must be thinking. They probably thought you were already dead. Perhaps you may as well have been.

The newscaster droned on about different ways to reach out with any information on your whereabouts and how to support your loved ones as they work to locate you. You wondered if Leon already knew about your friends and family telling your story to the media. With their contact information out there now, you found yourself worrying more about their safety than yours.

Eventually that portion of the broadcast came to an end and transitioned to coverage about a local event you couldn't care less about. You turned the TV off, laying flat on your back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling in silence. What were you supposed to do?

Sadly, the answer wasn't simple-- if you tried and failed to escape, you would be putting yourself in danger by landing yourself back out of Leon's good graces. If you tried and succeeded, you would potentially be putting the heat on your loved ones, whose homes would inevitably be the first place he'd look after your own. You weren't sure he'd be as forgiving with them as he would be with you. After all, he loathed the idea of hurting you... physically. He didn't seem to care much about the mental aspect.

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage with anxiety. The room was beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in around you and in that moment, your panic made your decision for you.

You had to at least try.

Chest heaving with panicked breaths, you sprang up from your place on the bed and began tearing through the room in search of something to get the door open with. Your hands were trembling as you ripped your way through every drawer, every shelf in the closet, even beneath the bed. Finding the bedroom void of anything useful, you made your way to the bathroom and administered the same treatment.

Throwing open the cabinet, you nearly cried with joy as your eyes landed on a pair of tweezers. They were a bit high up in the cabinet, so you crawled up on the countertop so you could reach them. You snatched them up, nearly dropping them with how badly your hands were shaking, before rushing back into the bedroom and to the door.

Dropping to your knees, you slotted the flat end of the tweezers into one of the screws on the doorknob. Your weak arms twisted, and after some resistance, the screw began to turn.

"Yes!" You laughed to yourself, dropping the tweezers to the floor in excitement. Quickly, you picked them back up and continued removing the screws from the doorknob.

Once the final one was gone, dropping to the floor beside you, you tugged with all the strength in your body.

Nothing.

Your chest tightened. Trying not to panic even further than you already were, you took a deep breath and gave it another pull and still, nothing. Then you realized the lock itself was the culprit. If you were going to get out this way, you'd have to take the entire door off. If you were going to do that, you'd need something to stand on so you could reach all of the hinges.

Pushing one of the bedside tables over to the door, you climbed atop the wood and put the tweezers to work again.

One hinge off.

Two.

Now you were on your knees, tongue poked out in concentration as you twisted off the final three screws. You felt electric, never having been closer to making it out. The final screw dropped to the floor in front of you and you held your breath as you supported the door with one hand, gently pulling it out of the doorway. It was heavy, your arms shook as you moved it out of the way and propped it up against the wall.

You took a minute to bask in the sight of the hallway before you. The house was dark and vacant. You had nothing but time and solace to figure out the other half of your escape.

You weren't sure where Leon was keeping your shoes-- he insisted you didn't need them anymore since you weren't supposed to be going anywhere-- so you padded your feet with two thick pairs of socks, slipped a plain black hoodie on over your sweater and bolted down the hallway. You nearly slipped descending the stairs, catching yourself by the wall in the nick of time, heading straight for the sliding glass door.

Shockingly, you didn't even have to take that one out of its mechanism, let alone break it-- the lock lever was right there in front of you. You almost didn't take the opportunity, worried that it was suspiciously too easy, but at the same time it would be a shame to pass something like that up. Shakily, you flipped the lever, heartbeat slamming in your ears at the clean sound of the click, and as you slid the door open in front of you, you were so relieved you nearly vomited.

Warily, you stepped one foot out into the backyard, and then another. The sun felt incredible. There was a slight breeze going that carried some of the heat off of your skin. You hadn't realized how much you missed the smell of car exhaust and fragrant spring trees until this exact moment.

Now, if you could just find your way to a main road, you could properly discern where in the city you were and therefore, how far you were from your apartment.

Little did you know you were correct in assuming your escape, despite the effort, was far too easy to be real. Through his work for the government-- which you knew nothing about-- Leon knew a thing or two about surveillance. How else would he be able to keep tabs on the search for his "missing" darling and make sure those pesky little posters with your face on them stayed in the trash where they belonged?

He was halfway through typing up a report in his office when his phone pinged with a notification.

Motion alert: Movement detected at back door

Leon stiffened, opening the notification to be met with the image of his nightmares-- live camera footage of his darling, dressed in all black, attempting to climb the tall wooden fence in the backyard.

He was quick to abandon the task at hand-- mission reports were not nearly as important to him as you were-- and he wasted no time grabbing his keys and storming out of his office. Leon made a quick comment to one of his coworkers that there was an emergency requiring his attention and he needed to leave before rushing toward the parking garage with large strides.

Now it was his heart hammering away in his ears. He couldn't stand the thought of making it home too late to stop you. He couldn't stand the thought of you hurting yourself climbing the fence. More than anything, he couldn't grasp why you would do this. You had been so sweet to him lately and he was sure you were finally coming out of your shell and accepting the fact that the two of you were made for each other, that you were made for him and him only.

But you hadn't. You were lying to him each and every day. It was this realization that halted his sadness in its tracks and filled him with a level of white-hot anger he hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

Leon broke every speed limit imaginable on his way back to the house. It was a negligent price to pay to ensure you stayed where you were meant to. His hardened eyes switched constantly between the security camera footage and the road in front of him, any regard for the safety of himself or others gone with the wind. He watched as you came back outside with a dining room chair to place in front of the fence. All he could see was red.

He came tearing down the street, barely giving the car enough time to come to a complete stop as he threw it in park, yanked the keys out of the ignition and exited in nearly one motion.

Your heart sank into your stomach at the sound of a car door slamming shut. You froze in your tracks.

It's just the neighbors. It's just the neighbors. It's just the neighbors, you tried reassuring yourself, planting the dining room chair in the squishy grass right up against the fence.

But then you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door swinging open so hard it banged into the wall.

Oh god. Oh fuck.

Hurriedly, you climbed atop the dining room chair, knees wobbling, trying so hard to convince yourself you were just imagining the heavy, nearing footsteps behind you. Body numb with adrenaline, you gripped the top of the fence and hoisted yourself up, planting one foot against the rough wood to help push yourself up and over when a strong hand closed around your other ankle with a vice grip, yanking you down from where you stood.

You screamed as you fell to the cold, hard ground, hoping someone would hear you, but Leon was quick to scoop you up against his chest and clamp his hand over your mouth.

"Where do you think you're going, doll?" He asked, not one bit of sympathy in his tone. He was squeezing your body so tightly in his arms that it genuinely hurt. You almost worried he would crush your bones.

You were thrashing in his hold, kicking your legs out wildly in a futile attempt to throw him off his balance, but you knew it was useless. You wanted to answer him, to tell him some stupid lie about how you just wanted some fresh air, but there was no point now, not that you even could given his hand was over your mouth. He was already angry with you, the angriest he'd ever been in fact, and to that point you had no idea what you were in for.

Leon dragged you back into the house, not even reacting to the way you struggled in his arms, and as he stepped through the doorway you couldn't help but wish you'd savored the time spent outdoors a little more, because there was no way he was ever going to give you that chance again.

He released his hold on your mouth to reach for something you couldn't see-- you were less concerned about whatever it was than you were about saving your own ass.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy, I'm so sorry--"

He scoffed. "No, you're not," Leon replied coldly, tone laced not just with anger but with hurt. "Y'know, sweetheart, I thought we had something really special. Did you not promise to behave yourself for me this morning? You were acting so strange, I knew you were up to something, and still, I found it within myself to trust your word that you would do right by me. Yet, here we are."

You wailed, gasping for breath, "I-I know, daddy, I'm sorry, I swear, I'm so sorry-"

He simply covered up your mouth again as he began to ascend the stairs, freezing in his tracks as he looked down the hallway to see his bedroom door off its hinges. Leon's muscles stiffened, cranking even tighter around you-- you could hardly breathe.

"Just look at what a mess you made, you ungrateful brat," He spoke through his teeth, shaking with fury. "Did it ever cross your empty little brain that I keep you here for your own good? That I might be protecting you from all the awful, evil people of this world who just want to hurt you? God, if you're going to keep acting like an animal, I should really start keeping you on a leash."

There was little time to dwell on the plentiful irony within that statement. He continued to charge down the hallway, tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed as soon as he set foot into the wrecked bedroom. You tried to scramble away from him and back toward the door, but he wasn't having it-- now acutely aware of your inclination to escape, he simply snatched up your wrists in one hand and pinned you back down to the bed.

He pulled something from his back pocket, and you weren't sure what it was at first until you felt cool metal against your wrists and heard an unmistakable click. You froze in horror, looking up just in time to watch him finish fastening your handcuffs and locking you to the bedframe.

"D-Daddy please, please don't do this, I-I'm sorry--"

Enraged, he punched the wall right above your head to silence you and you could have sworn you heard it crack.

"No, you're not, but you will be," He nearly growled, taking a step back so he could gesture to the state of the room. "If I had known you were going to destroy our home and rip a door off just to do the one thing I asked you not to do, I would have tied you to this bed a long fucking time ago. Do you even hear me when I speak to you?"

You were crying so hard you couldn't see, knees drawn up to your chest as the cold metal cuffs bit into your skin.

"Answer me!" Leon demanded.

"Y-Yes, I hear you, I-I'm so--"

"Sorry?" He finished your sentence in a mocking tone. "Bullshit. This requires far more than an apology and you know it, don't you princess? That's why you're so scared. Brave enough to break the rules but too afraid to face the consequences... It's pathetic, really."

Your lip quivered as you tried and failed to control your breathing. You couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said earlier, about making you sorry. You couldn't possibly imagine what he meant by that.

The more you thought about it, the more you became frustrated-- in a dizzyingly short amount of time that frustration began clouding over your distress. You weren't sure how much longer you could put up with this before he'd break you. Pleading with him didn't work, begging for his forgiveness didn't work, and hell, playing by his rules didn't always work either. Suddenly you were no longer crying because you were scared, you were crying because you were pissed.

"You wanna talk about what's pathetic, Leon?" You shouted through your tears, glaring straight up at him, speaking his name with the highest volume of venom you could muster. "You're just a fucking loser who couldn't land a girlfriend like a normal person, and you're taking it out on me. If you have to shackle me to your bed just to get me to stay with you, it's not too hard to see why no one else ever wanted you."

You could see his jaw clench. Leon leaned down to your level, faces so close together you could feel the heat of his heavy breaths as he gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to remain at attention.

"I know what you watched on the news this morning," He said, voice so low with anger it might have chilled you to the bone if you weren't so completely fuming. "This is why I keep you here, sweetheart, because those horrible people just say whatever they can to get into your head and turn you against me when all I've ever done is protect you. They must be so miserable."

Now it was your jaw clenching. You almost laughed.

"It took a lot less than that newscast to turn me against you," You scoffed, trying to ignore how sore your arms were already becoming from being tied up above your head. "You took me away from everything I've ever known, stripped me of my identity and my freedom just so you could live out your delusional fantasy. You're sick in the head, Leon, and I don't want to play your game anymore. You don't need me and you sure as hell don't need a family, you need to be in prison. You need professional fucking help."

He... grinned?

He grinned.

His eyes hardened over in a way you'd never seen before and although you resisted showing it, it made you so nervous you could have puked right then and there.

"That's where you're wrong, baby," He bit back condescendingly. "I don't need you telling me what I need when you're the one who's been led so far astray. It's not me that needs saving, it's you, and I have every intention of filling up that pretty little head of yours with what's right, what's real. One of these days, you'll be thanking me."

Your rage consumed you completely-- in a split second decision, you spat in his face, speaking through gritted teeth, "Fuck you."

Ever so slowly, he raised a hand to his face to wipe off the saliva, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. He collected your spit on his fingers, staring you down in silence for a moment as if he were expecting you to backtrack and apologize, but you didn't.

"You don't mean that," He spoke as he pried your mouth open with the hand that held your jaw and shoved his spit-soaked fingers inside. "Poor, dumb little baby. You don't even know what you're saying anymore, and I'm the delusional one?"

You tried to bite his fingers but his hold on your jaw was strong.

"No biting," Leon demanded. "Try it again and I'll pry every last tooth out of your bratty mouth."

Well... you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but you decided you'd rather not test him. All you could bring yourself to do was reminisce about how nice the sunshine felt on your cheeks, how pleasant the breeze felt in your hair, the rough wooden fence on your soft palms as he held his fingers in your mouth until you'd adequately sucked them clean, swallowing hesitantly. Only then did he withdraw from you, hands shaking in manic fury as he pulled up the calendar on his phone and shoved it in your face, showing you an event he had entered that was coming up in three days.

It was simply marked, six weeks.

You couldn't help it-- you shuddered, trying as you might to will yourself to just keep thinking about the sun and the breeze and that fence, all so painfully close but so far away.

You couldn't sleep.

You laid wide awake, arms still bound to the bedframe by the metal cuffs that were biting into your wrists, staring at what you could only assume was the ceiling as the lights were off and Leon was asleep beside you. He'd only let you out of your restraints to use the bathroom, after which he'd force you right back into place, locked up tight every time.

It was the night before the big day, the six week mark. Leon hadn't returned to work since you'd attempted your escape and you could only imagine what excuse he'd pulled to get out of it. He did mention he held a good amount of power in his workplace, so you were certain none of his subordinates felt any reason to question his word anyway.

He'd removed anything even remotely capable of being used to hurt yourself or facilitating your escape from the room. No TV, no tweezers, no razors, no belts, no medicine in the cabinets. He'd put safety covers on all of the outlets and replaced the digital alarm clock with an analog one-- no radio, either. If your family was still out there pleading for answers, you would have no way of knowing.

Exactly as he'd planned.

The worst part-- which you never thought you'd catch yourself thinking-- was that he was practically ignoring you. He'd hardly said a word to you or looked in your direction since you'd tried to escape. He would pipe up every now and then in select situations, seemingly only to scold you. You'd tried to get back at him with another hunger strike, which he didn't take kindly to. You'd yelled and kicked at him and begged him to uncuff you, to which he would just grumble that you were being ridiculous and needed to calm down or he'd never let you out until you could prove to him you deserved it. Other than that, silence. Complete and total deafening silence.

Shamefully, you craved his attention. You didn't realize just how nice it felt until he'd withheld it from you entirely.

You nudged his sleeping form with your knee, speaking out in a sweet, sad voice, "Daddy?"

Leon shuffled a bit beside you, putting a hand on your knee to stop your prodding. "What?" He asked, voice gravelly with sleep.

"I can't sleep," You whispered.

Despite how wrong you knew it was, you hoped he would feel sorry for you. You hoped he would let you out of your restraints so he could properly pull you into his arms and rub your back until you'd finally slip away into a dream. Part of you hoped he might at least stay awake and talk to you for a while.

But he didn't.

"Count sheep," He dismissed you, rolling over to go back to sleep.

The analog clock ticked.

Now it was Leon shaking you awake.

You groaned, trying (and failing) to bury your head into the pillow while restrained on your back.

"Get up," He said sternly.

"Leon, please, I just fell asleep not that long ago--"

"That's too bad," He yanked at your restraints to shock you into consciousness. "I know what you need to do to regain my trust."

That statement alone was enough to get you to pry your tired eyes open and look at him. Morning light had flooded into the room. He was already dressed and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at you expectantly.

"And what would that be?" You asked.

Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key, unlocking your cuffs. Your arms were dead and fell heavily to the bed on either side of you as you let out a breath of relief-- your limbs throbbed and tingled as the feeling returned. Still, he wasted no time taking ahold of you, pushing a pen into your dominant hand and a notebook into your other.

"You're going to write to your family, and you're going to tell them to quit looking for you."

Your mouth went dry. "W-What? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," He answered you. "If you want to convince me that you're really trying to get better and behave for me, that's what you need to do."

Sleep deprivation and discomfort left your brain foggy-- you tried to think through what you were going to do, but as much as you wanted to tell him to fuck off, you weren't sure you could stand another length of time being cuffed, and you really weren't sure you could handle him continuing his vow of silence with you. You swallowed thickly.

"O-Okay," The agreement fell from your lips before you could stop it. "That's it?"

He crossed his arms. "It's a start. I need to know you're committed to this, to me."

"And what do I get in return?" You asked.

Leon scoffed. "A sliver of my trust back. Don't get greedy on me, now, princess."

You stared down at the book of blank pages in your lap. You wondered if it was worth it, if they'd believe whatever bullshit you'd churn out on that paper, if they would really give up. If Leon would really start to trust you again.

Finally, you clicked the pen and began writing with your dead, heavy hand.

Hey, it's me. Ever since I left my job, my apartment, everything, I've felt so free. Lonely, sometimes, but free. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be. Maybe some day we'll see each other again, but I need to do what's best for me now. Even if it hurts.

Never think that I don't think about you all the time. Only always do I miss you. This is just a better place for me, where I am now. So don't worry about me. After some time has passed I may write again just to let you know I'm okay. Freedom has never tasted so sweet. Even if it kills me sometimes.

Leave every worry you have about me behind. Every last one. Of course I still love you and I understand how you all must be feeling, but even so, I need you to stop looking for me. Now, please, leave me in peace.

You looked over every last shaky word with pride. You hoped Leon wouldn't read into it too closely as you handed it off to him. It wasn't particularly a cleverly coded message, in fact it was rather rudimentary, but all you could do was hope they would read between the lines and Leon wouldn't.

The first letter of every sentence spelled out your true message: HELPME NOTSAFE LEON

You hoped it would be enough to point them in the right direction, if they even noticed it at all.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Leon asked, folding up the page neatly and tucking it away in his pocket as he quickly reached for the notebook and pen-- he couldn't risk you turning around and hurting yourself with either one of those items. "I'll send this off to them soon, but today is just about us. You know what today is, don't you princess?"

Panicked tingles washed over you. You nodded stiffly. "S-Six weeks," You mumbled.

"That's right," He smiled softly, cupping your cheek. "Such a smart girl. Our kids are going ivy league, I can already feel it."

You flashed him an incredibly weak smile, but said nothing.

"That being said, I think you know what else you need to do to gain my trust back, don't you?" He asked, resting a hand on your thigh, looking down at you with a smug look on his face, like he'd won.

Of course you knew what he wanted, you were just hoping you weren't correct in your assumption.

You shook your head. "What?"

He chuckled pitifully, like he just couldn't begin to imagine how empty your head must be, how easily molded with such a lack of intelligence. It made your skin crawl. Finally, he answered with exactly the words you were terrified of hearing.

"Relax and let me put a baby in you," He said softly. "You know that."

"Right," You nodded, casting your gaze down to your hands, feeling your heart begin to pound-- there was no getting out of this. After what you'd just been through over the past three days, you couldn't bear the idea of making him angrier. The fight left you for now and you shrank into yourself.

His hand traveled a bit further up your thigh, fingertips squishing softly into the meat of your flesh. "You are going to give me a baby, right, doll?" Leon asked, face unreadable, but you weren't stupid, you knew this was a test. He hadn't exactly made a habit of asking you for your opinion on anything.

With a quiet, measured breath, you willed yourself to return his gaze, looking straight into his cobalt eyes as you forced a much more convincing smile than the last one.

"Yeah, of course," You spoke through your teeth. "...Daddy."

Leon visibly softened at that. At the end of the day, it pained him to punish you and he couldn't possibly stay mad at that face. He still felt you had a lot to atone for, but that didn't matter to him in that moment. All he could think about was feeling your cunt wrapped around him again after such a dreary six weeks, pumping you full of his cum until neither of you could take it anymore, until it leaked out of you, until there was no possible way you weren't knocked up.

The blonde shifted on the bed, kissing up the length of your leg until he rested his chin on your hip. "Good answer, princess," He mused. "We're gonna be so happy. I promise. You're gonna be the prettiest mama in the world."

You looked up at the ceiling, body going numb with fear. There was no way you could handle bearing and birthing and raising your captor's child, being tied to him for a minimum of 18 more years, having to explain to a child why mommy isn't allowed outside of the house.

As you pondered your future, Leon was busying himself with your body-- he was already growing hard just feeling your warm, soft skin beneath his hands, breathing in your scent, dragging his lips along your navel just to savor you. He'd so terribly missed experiencing your body this way. As hard as it was for him to hold off, he wanted to make this moment as special for you as it was for him.

With your contraception gone and your wounds healed, this would be his first real try at getting you pregnant, the first real chance his seed might take. Leon could hardly contain his excitement.

His fingertips tickled over your electric skin as he reached for your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs. Parting you by your thighs, he looked at your pussy with stars in his eyes, as if he'd never seen something so beautiful. All you could do was lay there and wait for him to get on with it.

You thought of the sun on your skin. Leon drew a finger up the length of your cunt, settling between your legs so he could bury his face in you, nose bumping your clit softly as he began to lap at your folds. You thought of the breeze in your hair. He gripped your thighs on either side of his head, pressing one down to the bed to pry you further open as his tongue flicked at your jewel, coaxing desire unto you. You thought of the soft grass beneath your socks. He groaned into you with satisfaction, sending vibrations through your lower half. You thought of the sound of birds. Two fingers prodded at your entrance.

Suddenly you stiffened, tears rimming your eyes-- all you could think of was the incident, vivid memories of the throbbing pain and the blood and the look on his face flooding back to you, filling your mind and body with a sour feeling.

You tensed, squirming in his hold.

"D-Daddy," You stuttered. "I-I don't want fingers this time... please."

It took him a second to will himself to pull away from you, looking up at you through his lashes with spit and slick glistening over his reddened lips. "Are you sure, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded. "It's just... I'm scared."

"Scared of what, baby?" He asked, resting his cheek on your thigh as he continued to idly circle your clit with his thumb.

Your lip quivered, tears leaking from your eyes and dripping down the sides of your face. You looked back up to the ceiling, afraid to show him how rattled you were. "I can't stop thinking about it."

When a few seconds passed and he hadn't moved or answered you, you dared a peek down at him-- at first he looked a bit confused, like he was trying to search his brain for whatever "it" was, and then it dawned on him and his eyes rounded with guilt.

"Oh, sweetheart... no, no, that'll never happen again," He rambled out, voice dripping with concern. "I promise. It's over now, you're all healed up. You're better now, princess."

"I-I know," You said, trying desperately to conceal your tears, bringing a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. "I'm just scared. I can't stop thinking about it."

Leon frowned. Your attempts not to alert him that you were crying were in vain, he definitely noticed, and it shattered his heart. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit in place of his thumb. "You just need me to remind you how good it feels, huh? Don't be scared, okay? I've got you. I'm right here."

His words hardly quelled the ice cold fear that ripped through your body like a shockwave. You weren't sure how exactly that was the solution he'd landed on, but you'd given up on trying to understand his way of thinking by now. Whether you meant to or not, your body remained stiff as he resumed his ministrations, tongue dancing over your jewel, fingers pushing deeper and deeper into you, slowly, as if that would make you feel better.

You kept your hand over your mouth to silence your cries, desperately trying to keep a handle on your breathing while every fight or flight response in your body was pounding the alarm. Your eyes screwed shut as he began to drag in and out, pads of his fingers brushing over your sweet spot. You were paralyzed with fear, viscerally uncomfortable, and ashamed that you were enjoying this.

Sucking particularly hard at your puffy clit, Leon delighted in your reaction as you whimpered, completely unbothered by your tears. As far as Leon was concerned, you were in need of a good fuck to set you back on the right path and he had every intention of giving that to you, and more. He was more interested in fucking all that brattiness out of you than anything else.

Your face burned hot with shame and tears as you felt a quick peak rising deep in your stomach, wishing he wasn't so fucking good at this. Everything in you screamed to push him away, but something louder begged you to stay put and relax.

Oddly enough, that "something" had a voice that sounded a lot like Leon.

Unable to hold back anymore, you began to sob as your release gushed over Leon's face and fingers, wishing you would just die while he dragged out your orgasm, praising you quietly.

"That's it, good girl. Good fuckin' girl," He grunted into your pussy, lapping up every last drop of you. "Feels good, doesn't it, baby?"

You couldn't breathe well enough to answer him. Before you could stop yourself, you found your free hand grasping down at him, reaching desperately for his hand. He granted you that with enthusiasm, squeezing your palm lovingly.

"Oh, sweetheart... you're alright. Just breathe for me, pretty girl, I'm right here," Leon cooed, withdrawing his fingers from inside you but again, continuing to toy with your clit just to keep you stimulated and pliant. "You did so good for me. I'm so proud of you."

You clutched his hand like you would die if he let go, all the while he peppered your stomach with kisses as he rose to meet your gaze, pulling your hand away from your mouth so he could plant his lips there. Sighing into his kiss, you tangled your arms around him and cried into his mouth, too absorbed by him to notice he was unbuckling his belt with his free hand.

Leon pulled away from you just long enough to undress, gifting you another kiss before rutting his hard cock against your folds impatiently.

"Fuck, you feel so good... You have no idea how badly I missed fucking you."

"I-I missed you too," You cried, but you weren't referring to the six-weeks-no-sex thing. Just hours ago he was three days deep into ignoring you completely, and now he was giving you everything you'd wished for.

The tension in your muscles released and you went dumb, letting your head fall back as you submitted to the feeling of him, the head of his cock brushing over your clit, the pearly precum that leaked from him slicking your already wet cunt even further.

With a shudder he sank into you, watching your face in awe as your jaw dropped at the dull sting of his cock stretching you out. You whined softly, clenching around him, drawing a lustful sound from him that you weren't sure you'd ever heard before, but it certainly did something to you. His hips bumped into yours as he impatiently thrusted into you down to the hilt, dropping his head down to suck and nip at your throat.

"So fucking tight," Leon grunted right into your ear. You clutched at his strong shoulders, your body temperature rising at the praise and the second knock at your hips as his hips pushed forward again. "God, you were made for me, princess."

He stayed still for a moment just to bask in the sensation of your gummy walls clenching impatiently around him, begging to draw his cock further inside than he could possibly go. It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself anymore, planting one hand beside your head and the other firmly on your hip as he began railing into you.

You were babbling out broken cries, nails digging into his shoulder blades hard enough to draw blood, but you had a feeling he wouldn't mind. The bedframe was bumping into the wall with increased volume, sending bits of drywall from the hole he'd punched earlier flittering down into your hair.

Leon's thick cock was passing over all of the most sensitive parts of you, stirring up the need inside you so quickly that you almost felt dizzy. You were holding on to him for dear life, slinging a leg over his hip to draw him in as closely to you as possible. His skin was rosy and warm, littered with beauty marks and the occasional scar here and there. You wondered if he'd tell you where they came from some day.

Some day. You shook off the thought, trying to stay in the moment. It was just easier that way.

"H-Harder," You pleaded, taking your lip between your teeth.

His face lit up, curling his fingers into your skin with a bruising force as he picked up the pace and pounded into you, reaching deeper than either of you thought was possible-- the swollen head of his cock was bumping into your already sensitive cervix, pulsing a pain through you that made you squirm and see stars. Oddly, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"So good," You shivered, letting your shaking hands slide up to tug at his hair. "I-I'm close again, Leon, I'm close--"

With a hum he slowed down again, watching with amusement as you griped at the loss of the sensation. "That's not what you're supposed to call me, is it, sweet girl?" He taunted you. "Already fucked stupid, aren't you? Not a single fucking thought behind those eyes."

"Daddy, please," You relented. "Wanna cum. Wan' it so bad, please..."

He made a show of pondering for a second, ultimately deciding your apology would do, just this once. Tonight was meant to be special and he was sick of punishing you by now. Hiking your leg up over his shoulder, Leon thrusted into you twice as hard as before, if that was even possible, making you cry out with bliss.

You were already close, but Leon really wanted to make sure he got you there. Sneaking a hand between the two of you, rubbing achingly slow circles into your clit. Your eyesight blurred as you yanked at his hair, twitching around you as not one but two orgasms crashed over you almost painfully, one after the other soaking his cock and the sheets with your release.

Desperately in need of a break, you writhed in his arms and tried to push him off of you, but he wasn't budging.

"Nuh-uh, none of that," Leon chided, gripping your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head. "Take it, baby, just take it. Gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, make you mine."

Your tears returned with a quickness as your limbs twitched with overstimulation, wondering just how much more he had in him. Funny enough, now you were begging him to slow down again. He wouldn't, though. He was far too close to his own release but terrifyingly good at not showing it.

Just when you thought you were genuinely going to pass out, his pace stuttered and he pulled you further into him by your hip, hands still pinned above your head as he stuffed himself as deeply inside of you as he could physically manage, and you felt the unmistakable warmth within you as his seed flooded your cunt.

Leon continued to fuck his cum into you with a few more lazy thrusts, catching his breath as he leaned over you with a smile. He let go of your wrists and cupped your chin.

"That's it, sweetheart. Y'feel that?"

You nodded, dizzy, arms latching around him once more.

"Good. I'm gonna make sure you're pregnant in no time, I promise," He chuckled breathlessly, brushing his lips over your forehead. "Just gotta make sure it takes."

Leon pulled slowly out of you, watching as a pool of pearly white cum seeped out of your hole and puddled on the sheets. He was quick to swipe it up with his finger, pushing it deeply back into you. After all, he couldn't stand the thought of a single drop going to waste.

part 4 ♡

#venustext #sintext #yandere!leon kennedy #something permanent #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader

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charmandabear · 2 months

Text

Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look.

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice.

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting.

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it.

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous.

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie.

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt.

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better.

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear.

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it.

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.”

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed.

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying.

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous.

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close.

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing.

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you.

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt.

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle.

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

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bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 2 months

Note

I’ve been following this blog ever since your first headcannons and I’m in love with your writing. I’ve been DYING for someone to request this but nobody has so I will! Could I request a Yandere Andrew with a willing fem reader? She’s just pretty chill and doesn’t mind Andrew’s possessive and yandere nature and is even willing to cut ties with people because she loves him and genuinely sees nothing wrong with it?

P.S I just love the Ashley and Gabriel ship! I think it’s adorable! I love Gabriel’s design and the pairing looks adorable together! I’m always looking on Tumblr multiple times a day to see if you’ve posted something new.

If you accept, please take your time and have fun! Thank you!

Anon- you are so sweet. Thanks dog <3

totallynotcryingtotallynotcrying—

Yandere!Andrew Graves x Willing Fem!Reader

You can’t remember the last time someone cared about you as much as Andrew did

Someone who would do the things he did just to protect you

Really you couldn’t be luckier

Most women would be terrified to see the dark silhouette of their partner standing outside their window late at night

Not you though, you know he was just making sure you were safe.

You waved to him once, and though it was difficult to see- he waved back

It was endearing how much Andrew cared about your safety

It was sweet how much he noticed about you

Small details that would go overlooked, like the shampoo you used- or the way you held yourself while conveying emotions. He noticed.

Andrew loved you. And you loved him.

“I’m just…worried.” Your friend’s voice felt like the vocal equivalent of chewing cardboard. If it wasn’t for the subject right now, you would’ve tuned her out ages ago. But this concerned you and your life, so you listened, “Like- he’s a stalker Y/N! Straight up stalker! What if he like- wears your skin like a jacket or something.”

“Hm.” You shrugged, “I’m sure he’d sew a lovely jacket then.” A small grin formed on the corners of your mouth as your friend gave an annoyed sigh.

“I’m being serious! He’s obsessed with you!”

“Boyfriends are supposed to be obsessed, aren’t they not?”

“No! Like weirdly obsessed!” You could hear the desperation in her voice, “Y/N, you don’t get it. I’ve been- I’ve been getting letters, voicemails, goddamn post it notes on my desk to stay away from you and they’re all from him. He broke into my house!”

Andrew….did all that?

“Oh my god…” you let out.

“Thank you!”

“Oh my god…he- really must not trust you then.”

“WHAT?!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as your friend yelled into it.

You slowly brought it back to your ear, “Well- yeah? I mean- clearly he doesn’t trust you.”

“Clearly he’s insane!”

Alright- you had enough.

“Look,” you took a breath, trying to remain calm, “If you have a problem with my boyfriend- that’s fine. But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult him.”

“I’m not insulting him I’m—“

“Don’t call me again.” You said flatly, and not a second later hung up the phone.

You should feel awful. You should feel apologetic for what you said. You should consider your friend’s words..

But you didn’t.

It wasn’t like how they thought it was.

That friend, and any others who had something to say could fuck themselves over it

It was hard every time you had to do it

But Andrew- bless his soul- always comforted you

Hell, sometimes he even did it for you cause he knew how difficult they could be

He’s so sweet

Still would make them call, but you slowly blocked out the incessant sound of the phone’s ringing

When one of those conversations would bring you down, Andrew would be right there to lift your spirits

Andrew’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs trying to lift the corner of your mouth into a smile. The more he did it, the more it amused you- causing an actual smile to stay.

“There we go.” His head tilted a little as he gave you a small smile of his own, “Much better.”

“You’re a dork.” You buried your face into his chest, sighing happily as the familiar feeling of his hands stroking your hair.

“I’m your dork.” He hummed, “And I like your smile. So you better keep it, or I’ll carve it on to you.”

“Awwww, is that a promise?” You tilted your head up to look into his pale green eyes, your chin rested against his chest.

He nodded, “Mhm! Now C’mere.”

He leaned his head down, kissing you softly. You returned the kiss, reaching your arms up and wrapping them around his neck to hold him there. Not like he’d pull away, but as a measure for yourself more than anything.

For all the “warnings”

All the “concern” people gave your relationship with Andrew Graves

You didn’t care

You loved him

You loved his fucked up ways of affection

His twisted form of love

And he loved you back, tenfold

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #tcoaal #andrew graves x reader #x reader #genuinely this ask warmed my heart #I’m glad people like Gabriel and my dumb shit

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famemonsterrr · 9 months

Text

Astrology observations part 11;

(Don’t copy my work pliz and these aren’t facts but what I have seen and experienced in my life. If you can’t relate to any of these. It okay we are all different)

-Pisces are really good gaslighters like they argue and they know they losing and then boom…you are the one who is crazy. (Girly pops how about stop it)

- speaking of Pisces…maybe I’m saying it from personal experience but I can’t keep an aesthetic and even when I have find a aesthetic Im changing again. It’s endless circle…I hope another Pisces can relate with me:)

- i have seen an Aquarius women being so quick minded and have unique takes but also I have seen Aquarius women being really shy and slow to talk. There is no between with them.

- y’all think that Taurus are the lazy and don’t like to work out but they are so active and most of them love sports or gym.

- the second best venus is cancer…soooo giving soooo sweet and lovinggggg 🥰

- Aries placements show PASSION in any planet/house they are placed . Like if you have Aries moon you will be really vocal about ur emotions. If you have mercury then you will be passionate about ur opinions ect.

- Taurus and libra are the type of people who are seductive and flirty so naturally but if doesn’t work out they will be so pissed.

- Pisces are insane when they getting obsessed with something they like. They will make sure everyone in their group will know what new show/book/character ect. they started liking.

- Aquarius placements are the type of people who love anything that has to do with universe,planets ect. (Some of them people I know they follow on Instagram space accounts or nasa)

- Capricorn mars are workaholic…they always do things right to get where they want. (A placement that I kinda wish i had) "money money money must be funny in the rich man’s world"

- It’s from my personal observation but we tend to connect mostly with singers that have the same moon sign as we do. Maybe I’m the only one but from day 1 I loved they way Ariana grande was expressing her emotions through music and then I released we both have libra moon. So next time check the moon sign of ur fave artist 🤌🏻 (it’s my showing that I’m a big Ariana girly)

- Scorpio Venus people are my favourite cause they like you a lot and they know it but you don’t know it. They will not let you go and if they do they will return back to you no matter what. They will know everything about you and ask a lot about you. They will care about your opinions (when they really don’t care about others). They will share the darkest secrets with you,they personal/family traumas. They are consumed by your existence. (if they have Sagittarius placements maybe they will pretend not care at the same time so you might think u are just friends)

- speaking of Venus…if you are a Scorpio pliz find a Pisces Venus for you. Like insane connection. Soulmate energy and both consumed by each other. (My personal fave duo)

- Gemini Venus need to be studied cause they rush into love and at the same time they can’t settle. (Girly pops maybe decide for once but men are the worst)

- cancer mercury is more dramatic than a Leo but they don’t show it that easily.

- they say don’t date someone who has the same moon sign as you…but I disagree. You will be the same page and react the same way. Understanding from both sides. ( my ex bestie has libra moon and we understood each other so well). Maybe date or hang out with people that have the same moon as you.

- Sagittarius mercury/Venus flirts for joke but they do it so well that you fall for them and then they have to run away from you.

That’s all💙

Here is my masterlist

Thank you for reading my blog so far. Really grateful about that 🫶🏻 and sorry if I do spelling mistakes but I’m not Native American speaker so I try my best. Stay hydrated and healthy 💙

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bella-goths-wife · 21 days

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I wasn't sure initially but after reading them all I must admit I've enjoyed your Yandre Vs x pet posts and love Velvette in particular. Can you do something similar but just for Velvette? Either Yandre, she owns your soul or just an obsessive girlfriend (general neutral reader).

Yandere girlfriend velvette

Warnings: obsessive behaviour but not as bad as pet series, reader is an objectively bad person but in a the devil wears Prada way, ooc velvette?

This isn’t canon to the pet series and is a completely different au! So reader is not pet and is treated significantly better

First of all, you’d have to be something special for velvette to treat you as an equal, let alone develop a romantic relationship with

And you were definitely something special

You were a fashionista demon who died in the 2000s, but your death would not stop you from building an empire

You created unique clothing pieces that blended the fun and freeness of the previous generations with a fresh Y2K style

Think monster high outfits, your outfits held darker and lighter tones blended together which incorporated different cultures from all over the world

You also had a unique ability that helped you with this, you had the ability to put your emotions into the clothing you’d handcrafted

Literally, so if you made a scarf while feeling sad, whoever wore the scarf would then feel sad for however long they wore the scarf

This made your brand unique and gave you an edge that stood out from the other companies

You started out on market stalls but eventually you gained investors and expanded into a company that even had hell’s celebrity’s wearing your clothes

Stolas had commissioned you to make Octavia’s debut dress, veroskia had asked you to create her entire wardrobe for her tour around the hells rings and even the Lilith was photographed wearing one of your dresses

You had officially built your fashion empire that you’d always dreamed about and you even owned your own tower

This unfortunately meant that you couldn’t keep up with demand and handcraft each clothing item and would have to expand the workforce and hire skilful factory workers

This meant that your ability to put your emotions into the clothing wouldn’t work, so you made a limited edition line out every year with one new clothing item coming out every month

Each outfit would have a theme that connected with the emotions, so you’d do a rouge rage or a cerulean calm

You’d sell these to the highest bidder and would quickly become your top earning products with brawls happening at the bidding wars

But your company being successful only made your bad personality traits worse as you became more demanding and perfectionist to your staff in a way that made you a bad person but in a devil wears prada way that had the newer generations of demons calling you an icon

You had an attitude very similar to velvettes, only with the skills and the maturity to carry it

Velvette hated watching you grow your empire so much that it almost rivalled hers in popularity and income

She hated that you’d practically done it all by yourself while she had relied on Vox financially and he only did that because of his interest In her abilities with social media

She hated that she actually liked your clothing and she hated that your ability made you stand out

But she hated most of all that you two had come to hell within months of each other, yet you were a respected ceo and overlord while she was seen as a joke by overlords and parts of the fashion community

She also hated how insanely pretty you were, but she didn’t come to terms with that until later

She would try and do anything to discredit you and make it so your popularity would go down when you were neck and neck

She tried ‘exposing’ you on social media for having poor working conditions and being rude to workers but she forgot this is hell and literally no one cares

She tried slandering you and your clothing brand on social media, but she forgot your modern and you know how to use social media to your advantage too

You kinda turned into a meme similar to the Wendy’s twitter memes whenever you clapped back at velvette

She tried to pull your investors by threatening them with voxtech legal action, but you’d become self sustaining and could handle the loss with having hells celebrities commissioning your personal pieces

She tried to make you look foolish in front of the other overlords, but they all respected you much more than they respected her

She even tried to copy one of your designs but you called her out and she had to do one of those influencer apology videos but it mostly just consisted of her badmouthing you and justifying her actions

Her hatred bored on obsession with how regularly she stalked your profiles and life

After around ten years of this rivalry, you grew bored with it and you were running out of ideas

So you contacted the Vs and sat down in a meeting with them where you suggested a collaboration of the fashion designers on your terms

Velvette wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but Vox insist that it would be extremely profitable and practically forcing velvette to accept

So you started a collaboration

You and velvette butted heads a lot or some stylistic choices

It was so bad that eventually you couldn’t be in a room together for a few weeks

This collaboration took months, and during this time velvette got to hate you up close as she got to know every annoying detail about you

Except that hatred changed to something different over the months she worked with you, you intrigued her in a way that no one else has ever before

It all came to a stop one night when you two had gone out to a club together for social media promo for the upcoming collab

You shared drinks and complaints about one another and one thing led to another and you two had a drunken make out session in the back of the limo

But velvette hauled ass as soon as she realised she was swapping spit with her arch nemesis

She laid in bed and thought about her actions

Could all of those years of feeling hatred and jealousy towards you just been her suppressed attraction to you?

Could all those tense moments she assumed was awkward tension actually been sexual tension?

The thought made velvette want to scream into a pillow

She pushed her feelings down and decided to just avoid you until the collab was over

She thought it would be easier to hate you rather than face her obvious attraction to you

You tried talking with her many times during the collab but she just ignored you, and this hurt you deeply

So you complied with her wishes and after the collab ended you went back to living your lives without each other

But velvette found herself missing you and being around you

Staff especially noticed that she was much harsher to them then before

She felt herself wanting to reach out to you to beg you to either kiss her or reject her because surely rejection would be easier to deal with than this

But it all changed when rumours started circulating

Velvette had been innocently scrolling through social media until she came across a drama channel that claimed to have spotted you in a romantic moment with none other than veroskia mayday

Velvette found herself consumed with absolute disgust and jealousy

She stalked yours and veroskia’s profile and begged Vox to use his hypnosis to send trolls to verkoskia’s profile

The rumours were cleared up after you made a response that claimed that you and veroskia were only friends, but velvette still felt consumed with rage

She did something completely out of character

She went to you at your place of work and cornered you in your office before confessing every little feeling she’d ever had for you

She practically begged you to be with her, but you just sighed and explained that she had hurt you with her actions and that you couldn’t see yourself in a relationship with her

“It would hurt the brands” is what you also said, and that cut velvette deeper than any knife

She had felt pathetic, and she’d never feel pathetic in any relationship

Even before she had gotten to know you, your instant rise to success left her feeling small

You held power over her, and maybe that’s why she was so obsessed and attracted to you

She’d felt surrounded by people who were less than her all her life, and falling for you felt like finally finding an equal

And she wasn’t going to let you go that easily

She’d destroy you and your company if it meant that you’d love and rely on her

Hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you want me to make this another series

Tag list:

None yet, let me know if you wanna be tagged in future works like this for this if it becomes a series :)

#hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vees #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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captain039 · 9 months

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Stains of red

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Vampire things, blood, light gore, witch things, fantasy things, swearing, age gap, heats, smut, shameless flirting, virgin reader, indulging in pleasure xD, pining, jealousy, possessiveness

I can’t wait for the game I must write. I’ve watched too many TikTok’s on him🤣 so I may not get his characteristic. But I have an idea on them lol.

No spoilers for the game cause I haven’t played it lol

The raven awoke you as he did all mornings, cawing on your window seal making you huff and almost throw your pillow at him.

“Must you?” You said and he just cawed flying into your house and landing on your bedside table.

“Good morning” you chuckled and Pax cawed in response.

“Any hostile creatures lurking?” You said and he just cawed again fluttering his wings slightly.

“Helpful” you rolled your eyes and stretched. You started your day as you always did, some tea and toasted bread with jam, sitting on the front porch watching Pax fly away back to his family. You saved Pax when he was a baby bird, ugly little thing really with no feathers, but you raised him and now he wakes you every morning and watched the forest for you. Though you didn’t understand him, he understood you well enough. The forest felt cold somehow today though, like something cold was lurking within it and feeding off its emotions, same feeling you got from a certain vampire. Ever since your parents died to a vampire, Astarion has apparently made it his duty to check on you. He wasn’t the one who killed your family, but he was the one to tear the other vampires head off in a craze. You’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he did, nor will you forget the softness he showed younger you. You practically grew up by yourself, self sustaining beyond measures, Astarion didn’t know a thing about children, yet he didn’t let any of the village members come. He brought you food, books, clothes, anything you needed till you got old enough to take care of yourself. Your teenage years were hard, a lonely omega presenting wasn’t ideal for anyone and you felt like the gods truely hated you in those times of your heats. Astarion was neither alpha, beta or omega, you supposed it was due to him being practically dead. He just had a simple cold smell, like snow if snow smelt like anything. Due to him being the only male around you’d ever see your teenage lust was after him, a man however many years old who raised you, sort of. You cursed the gods daily because of this lust, now thought it simmered deeper within your heart and you hated it.

“Why’re you looking so thoughtful?” You heard a hum in front of you and jumped seeing Astarion there.

“Gods sake Astarion!” You glared and he laughed.

“Darling, you should be aware of your surroundings” he huffed with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. Pet names, boy did he love his pet names, darling, sweetheart, dearest, sweet thing, whatever his mind could think of and it drive you insane.

“Why’re you here?” You asked frowning slightly at his scent, a woman’s scent, a beta, gods had he bedded and fed someone before coming here? You glanced to his mouth, no red stains or signs of feeding, he bedded her then. That was somehow worse.

“Can I not see you? I am hurt” he pouted and you sighed standing up and grabbing your plate and cup.

“I have not seen you in months” you didn’t mean to snap, but you did as you walked into your cottage, him following.

“Were you not in heat?” He said casually and you flushed. You were in heat, how the hell did he manage to know your cycle?

“I was” you grumbled going to the sink.

“Not that it affects you” you scoffed, why were you angry?

“Why’re you angry sweetest?” He asked leaning against the counter beside you, tilting his head.

“I’m not angry” you lies washing your cup and plate before drying them.

“You’re also a terrible liar” he huffed. You turned abruptly and huffed at him before a knock came. He snapped his head to the door alerted, eyes narrowing.

“It’s just one of the villagers probably” you rolled your eyes at the vampire and opened the door. A villager indeed, only his fingers were missing.

“Gods what happened?” You asked.

“I was chopping some wood I got distracted by something, I was putting the wood down and left me hand there!” He said and you gulped.

“Right” you said turning around seeing Astarion staring at the man’s fingers.

“Astarion” you said softly and he snapped his head to yours mouth slightly agape. He snarled and went to your room while you took the man to your other room. You were a witch of sorts, you knew few spells, mainly healing ones, hence why the villagers came.

“Sit down” you said and the man sat down. You recognised him as the butchers son, a handsome young alpha, not to sharp though apparently. You made him hold his hand on the table and began chanting softly. You moved your hands around, watching the yellow glow emit from them and swirl around his fingers. Soon enough they were back and normal apart from the blood stains.

“There” you smiled.

“Thank you so much miss” he smiled softly a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Idiot” you heard and turned to glare at Astarion in the door way.

“Excuse him he has no manners” you huffed and cocked your head at the vampire who huffed and left.

“I can’t thank you enough miss” the alpha said still flushed as he shook your hand.

“It’s alright, just don’t do it again” you laughed lightly.

“Course, I was wondering-“ he stopped mid sentence glancing to something behind you and gulped.

“Thank you” he said and disappeared quickly.

“What did you do?” You turned to Astarion who shrugged.

“He’s a perfectly nice man!” You growled and went to clean up the blood.

“He was clearly trying to fuck you” Astarion said with a scoff and you flushed and froze.

“Excuse me?” You said as you scrubbed the blood a little harshly.

“Fuck you darling, bed you, a night of pleasure?” He said like you were stupid.

“I know what it is!” You said voice going higher.

“Have you still not had someone bed you?” He said voice teasing almost though something was strange about his tone. You threw out the rag and briskly walked past him to avoid that conversation. He scared off half the village! and you were in love with him for gods sake!

“Get out my house” you huffed turning and pointing to the door.

“I just got here” he huffed.

“I don’t care” you pointed to the door again.

“So dull” he whined, but left making you sigh in relief.

You watched the firefly’s over the small lake you had in front of your house. Nice clear spring, perfect in any weather it truely was a blessing. Sometimes if it was a warm night you’d go out for a swim with little clothing, enjoy the water under the warm night sky. It was a warm night and you felt like you could use a swim. You finished tea and changed into a robe and grabbed a towel. You laid the towel by the bed of the lake and glanced around before slipping your robe off and stepping in. You walked out a bit before resting on your back and sighing, eyes closing and tuning your ears into the wild life. You could hear critters scurrying around to grab their nightly meal, an owl nearby hooting softly, a few rabbits hoping along the ground and- footsteps? You lowered your body back into the water and glanced around, you couldn’t see anyone even with your heightened senses. You listened closer, two footsteps one heavy and one extremely light, the heavy one sounded like they were running. Then you heard a scream and blocked out the noise by covering your ears quickly before the smell of blood floated on the wind. You quickly left the lake and put on your towel before rushing inside and locking the door. You panted harshly missing the red eyes that watched you through the window.

Next part ->

#astarion x reader #Astarion #vampires #fantasy #x reader #aob #witch reader

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straightfromthetorturedpoetsdept · 10 months

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for this disability pride month, i want to highlight a couple of things with autism and ahdhd, particularly in girls.

if your teen girl is staying up every single night until 3 am doing homework, and she's been at it since 230 pm when she got home from school... that needs to be acknowledged and addressed. thats not normal, even the insane amounts of schoolwork that a white rich school would require for students in those college level courses wouldnt require almost 12 hours of studying a night. especially if her grades don't reflect that level of attention.

if your teen girl forgets things constantly, if she makes mistakes in sending the right documents or doesnt buy what you tell her to at the store, she is not lazy, stupid or malicious. these are symptoms that need to be acknowledged and addressed, this is not normal brain behavior. there is something going on cognitively.

if your teen girl is amazing and lovely until she's explosively angry, she's not an evil person hellbent on ruining the family. this is emotional disregulation, she needs help. these are symptons that need to be acknowledged and addressed.

if your teen girl is talkative and likes being around you until she doesnt, and if she goes silent until she's allowed to go to her room and sleep off the grumpiness, she's not being hateful towards you. she is likely burnt-out socializing and needs to gain her energy back, let her be. this is a symptom that needs to be addressed and acknowledged.

if your daughter constantly needs to chew on gum, even after you berate and shame her for doing so, to the point where her jaw often hurts, this is not her being defiant. this is a symptom and needs to be addressed and acknowledged.

if your daughter walks funny, laughs funny, dances weird, cries too much at commercials that are overly dramatic, and you make her feel bad for displaying any of these traits, you're harming her. let her exist in this world without feeling the need to box in her behavior into "acceptable" mannerisms. unlearn what it means to walk, laugh, dance "funny" and examine why you feel the need to bully people who don't behave in ways you've approved beforehand.

if your daughter has had trouble making friends her entire life and if you often catch her talking to herself in rehearsing full on conversations, she is most likely exhibiting symptoms of autism and these need to be acknowledged and addressed.

if your daughter learned to do things early on and had an extensive vocabulary or skipped the crawling stage and walked immediately, or if your daughter never learned how to "play properly" i.e. she loved having toys but only to organize and line them up and refused to let anyone else touch them, your daughter is exhibiting symptoms of autism that need to be acknowledged and addressed.

if your daughter often refuses to acknowledge her tone or states that "i didnt say it like that" "i didnt say that" or "thats not what i meant" and if she repeatedly tells you "i dont understand what tone you're talking about" she is not gaslighting or manipulating you. she is not being stubborn, she is not lying. she is exhibiting signs of autism that need to be acknowledged and addressed.

if your daughter only likes to eat certain things, to the point that it affects her health, she is not a picky eater. this is a symptom that must be acknowledged and addressed.

if your daughter is black and white in her thinking, to the point where she will argue with you about things that she thinks are objectively unfair or wrong to her, she is not doing it out of spite. she is exhibiting symptoms that must be addressed and acknowledged.

if your daughter loses her shit at not being allowed to sleep in on the weekends, especially if you know she's been pulling 12 hour "study sessions" all week, she is not being spoiled and ungrateful. she is exhibiting signs of autism/adhd burn out and she biologically needs to sleep more than other people to begin with, let alone in the situation that she is currently in.

please stop demonizing the behavior of your teenage daughters and start looking at each individual situation as pieces to a larger puzzle. if your daughter shows a majority of these signs, please start looking at these behaviors as manifestions of the symptoms that are distressing your child in that moment.

autism in girls is often treated as "bad behavior" that parents often try to "discipline" out instead of symptomatic behavior of a disorder that has gone unmanaged and unaccomodated for probably over a decade and half at that point. please treat your daughters with respect, love and dignity even in their worst times because that is when they need the most.

it doesn't help when you demonize your child as being purposely spiteful and hateful towards you, especially if you feel like you've communicated with them sufficiently and they aren't listening or compromising with you at the very least, because your children *do not* want to hurt you. your children are begging to be heard and you refuse to help them.

please research autism and adhd, especially how it can differ in girls versus boys, and please start treating your teenage girls with more love, kindness, and empathy.

#autism awareness #autism in girls #personal

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sage-green-matcha · 9 months

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WORLD IN COLOR - ETHAN LANDRY 🌸

In a world where in order to see color you must meet your soulmate!

Content includes: fluff! Mentions of sickness? light smut at the end! y/e/c = your eye color!

"It's such a pretty color! Cute isn't it?" You shook your head as Tara held up her new top, Chad watching her with excitement. "You know I can't see it, Tara" You smiled with a small scoff. "Oh, right...sorry" you brushed it off, holding back a frown.

Out of all of your friends, you were the only one who still couldn't see color. It had been something you wanted since you were a little kid. The idea around it fascinated you.Your whole life was in black and white. Only till you found your "soulmate" you could finally see color.

You were happy for all your friends, but you couldn't help but get jealous when they talked about the sunset or anything else in color. "Hey! By the way, I got my boy Ethan to come over" Chad mentioned excitedly, setting up what he called the "mini-bar"

You weren't sure if you were just crazy but you felt sick all of a sudden. You didn't wanna say anything in case you were, but your stomach felt weird. The pain increased with every second, now you were sure you were going insane. Or maybe you just had a stomach bug. "I feel sick" you had had plenty of stomach aches before but none of them included the symptom of blurry vision.

Chad and Tara looked at each other with confusion. That's exactly how they felt when they were minutes away from meeting each other. "Ethan is your soulmate!" Tara got up excitedly, helping you settle down on the couch. "Huh?" You couldn't think straight, feeling yourself fall numb against the couch.

"I think I'm gonna vomit" you grumbled, head in your hands as you heard the door open. "Hey...guys" You couldn't look up but Ethan was limping as he walked in, Chad quickly grabbing him before plopping him down next to you. "Hey, Etha..." You had never met him before, but you already felt a strange connection with him.

"Guys, look into each other's eyes" Tara forced your head to the side, watching with anticipation. You felt much better already, eyes squinted as you looked at Ethan. The both of you wanted to compliment each other, but with what was going on, you couldn't speak.

It was like everything around you was slowly sucking back in its color, a tingling sensation running down your back. "What the fuck?" Your whisper was barely heard, Tara and Chad holding back a laugh with how silly the both of you looked. "Your eyes, pretty y/e/c" Ethan took a look at your face, your eyes wandering. "What does that look like?" "She doesn't know the colors, dude"

Ethan had made a special code with charts to figure out what color was which, but on the other hand you had no idea what was what. Your body ran with emotions, now all 5 of your senses tingling uncontrollably. You were insanely conscious, watching as everything around you finished brightening up.

The light from the room no longer hurt your eyes, feeling yourself adjusting to your new but usual surroundings. "We'll leave you two at it!" Tara pulled Chad into her bedroom, leaving the two of you alone with your new eyesight. "How do I know which color is which...?" Your words were mumbled, Ethan zoned out as he stared at all the colors on your face. "Ethan..." You waved your hand in front of his face, asking your question again.

"Oh well, I've always kinda known I guess? I just looked up the colors on the internet and made a chart, like that couch" he looked over, making you turn your head. "It's blue, and that painting over there is pink" "My mom's favorite color is blue" you smiled to yourself, remembering the darkish hue the color had when it was all black and white.

"What's yours?" You scanned around the room, trying to find the color that appealed to you the most. "Pink..." Your eyes stayed on his lips, the pretty color of them hypnotized you. "And yours?" "Y/e/c" You recognized the pink color that was appearing on his cheeks, blush is what it was called. "You're blushing, it's pink" you smiled, holding back a laugh. "Yea, it is pink"

You brought your thumb up to his face, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. He watched with anticipation, making eye contact as he pulled you closer. Ethan was the shy dorky guy no one paid attention to, he wouldn't have dared to look anybody in the eyes, let alone someone as beautiful as you.

When you closed your eyes it was dark, but you felt a burst of color explode throughout your body when your lips met. They fit together so perfectly, it felt electrifying. The feeling of his large hands on your waist had you going insane, butterflies going wild in your stomach. The sound of light breaths and skin made you shiver. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, the taste of sugar on his lips making you reach even deeper into him.

All your senses were going off, putting all of them to use. He worked hard to get a noise out of you, finally letting one slip when his nails dug into your hips. "I never thought you'd be a masochist" "am not" you mumbled, squirming and holding back another moan while his nails dug deeper into your skin, his lips invading your neck. "Your eyes say otherwise"

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copias-sewer-rat · 6 months

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COPIA'S SEWER RAT RECOMMENDATIONS PT.1

This has been a long time comming! I wanted to take the time to create a long post not only with fic recommendations but also other stuff. The Ghost community is so talented that I needed time to gather all of the amazing projects and ideas that flutter around.

(This even took longer than anticipated because just when it was almost ready some of the authors in this list posted some freaking MASTERPIECES and I needed to add them as well, obviously.)

I plan to do a post like this from time to time with new discoveries, so please if you don't follow/know these creators, please check them out. Furthermore, if there is someone you think I have missed or that you would like for me to check out, please, let me know. I am always eager to know more amazing creators.

(please be aware that some of the fics and artists I will be talking about write some very nasty, yet amazing, stories/art so please always check their tags and tws before diving in).

next part | my masterpost

📝WRITING

Let's start with one of the backbones of this amazing community: @da-rulah and her gorgeous and deliciously nasty fics. Please go read Rituale Septem and Confessional if you haven't already. Her hcs and drabbles are also so so good, you should read everything she has written, you won't be dissapointed.

Now, the wonderful, amazing writer that is @her-satanic-wiles. I have become her personal and most ardent supporter this October (if you could not tell by how much I have reblogged and liked her stuff smh). Her Kinktober challenge this year has been an absolute delight so I leave you with her mastrerlist so you can check her out on your own.

Now, my beloved, the amazing writer that is @writingjourney with my favourite fic to date I Knew Nothing but Shadows. I honestly get such joy when she posts, it is pure perfection. She puts such detail in her writing that it always makes me so incredibly happy to read her stuff. I also leave you with her masterlist, please check her out! UPDATE: SHE JUST POSTED THE MOST PERFECT VAMPIRE SECONDO FIC, you must read it: Friday Nights at the Vinothek.

The great @bupia is next!!!! I honestly adore everything they write. My personal favs are Barista Preferita, Love Letter, Bloodlust, their kinktober series and their new work is Serendipity. I am always in awe with how they write honestly. I want to be y/n so much with their fics (lol, cringe). Please read everything of theirs!

How can I not mention the absolute, amazingly talented, cowboy lover that is @ramblingoak ??? Her whole universe of cowboys (I love cowboys like yeehaw all day you know?) is honestly one of my favs, AND THE WAY SHE WRITES, let me tell you, the DETAILS, the EMOTIONAL backstories, THE ROMANCE, THE DRAMA?! Please go read The Cardinal's Bride and the other stories of the same au if you haven't done so already. You are missing out on one of the best AUs this fandom has to offer. UPDATE: A NEW FIC?! SKATING COPIA?! TIGHT SUITS?! Need I say anything else? Go read her new series: Copia on ICE!

Then, @molly-ghuleh !! I just started reading her stuff and now I cannot stop?! Camellia is SO GOOD you must read it!! It deserves much more attention!!! THE DETAILS?? The love at first sight trope leaving me in shambles???!!! I am seriously invested and I cannot recommend her more! GO! NOW!

Next, my lovely ghestie @discountdemonwarehouse/@eyeslikelilith who is so funny and so so nasty😈💜! Please go follow her here and on Ao3 for her amazing fics (I love her WWDITSxGhost fic What We Do In The Ministry the most hehehehe iykyk)

@leezlelatch and her amazing drabbles bring me so much joy, please go check her out and read everthing she posts, it is wonderful and insanely entertaining. (I cannot choose only one recommendation help, read everything!!!)

What can I say about @earthry other that she is amazing and I that I am obsessed with her drabbles and asks? I have read Watermelon Kisses so many times that you could lock me up.

Go check @zombie-rott out in general! Her stories are very comforting and nice!!! AND THE WAY SHE WRITES??? I love love love it. I highly recomend reading Pawprints, it is adorable, you should ckeck it out.

Please go read @bethbruttenholm's Seduce Me... I fell in love with this fic, so so good, and her writing is *chef's kiss*.

@anamelessfool in general is a master, like, her Omega3 fics are so nice *wink*, extra kudos for Reciprocity muhahahaha (it is delicious)

AAAAAA @gravehags and her curator!reader x copia series??? I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED? THE HALLOWEEN CHAPTER? I WAS GRINNING LIKE A MADWOMAN ALL THE TIME. She also writes a lot about the Ghouls and Ghoulettes and it is SO SO NICE!

@the-curator1 In The Darkness of your Dreams ??? AN ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE oh my Satan, I LOVE LOVE IT!!!

🎨ART

This list is going to be long and I don't want to sound like a broken record or make this post eternal (because I could talk about all of them for ages if you let me) so I will make only a big recommendation for the following artists:

@vogelfreyh

@piaart

@vanmec

@comfysanda

@nocterish/@nocturnal-birb

@sirlsplayland

@risunsky

@blanchebees

@mardyart

@meowsaidmissy

@forgelokid

@novaiisk

@nekronyancer

@delulluart

@yollur

@quaildoodle

@oranpo

@doodleshrimps

@kabukiaku

@thew0man

@blackbird5154

Please, check all of them. They deserve all the recognition they can get. I adore how much love and effort they put in their art, WIPS or whaterver they decide to make. Every single one of them inspires me so much, I cannot explain with words how proud I feel to be able to look at their creations and share a community or even an interest with such talented creators.

👻OTHERS

This is the one that needs more creators. I need to find projects, creators that do other things such as theorising, gifs, big projects, whatever. Please, give me your suggestions and I will check them out and add them in following entries.

For now, I leave you with a couple of amazing people that deserve all the praise:

@stressghoul I honestly follow her EVERYWHERE. I love her tiktoks so much, she is so funny. The Brittany Brosky of the Ghost community you could say.

@slavghoul If you need any questions solved about our dear Satanic papas, go follow Slav. I have never seen a more dedicated person with such an amazing brain, it is honestly so inpiring to see what they have to say every single time. By the way, also check their videos on all the little isolated parts from Ghost songs, does not fail on lifting my feet from the ground as if possessed, every-single-time. You can check all the videos here.

@kabukiaku again??? YES! WHY?! BECAUSE I ADORE HER PAPA PLUSHIES I THINK THEY ARE THE CUTTEST!!!!

Lastly, I wanted to mention a YouTube creator that is making orchestral versions of Ghost songs. I found an orchrestral version of DATHOML on Tiktok and I had to find the whole song. Please check them out because they are doing more and it is amazing. Jamie Turton.

#gonst #the band ghost #ghost #the band ghost bc #ghost bc band #recommendation post #sewer rat recommends #amazing creators #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #ghost bc #ghost band #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #papa secondo

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cowpokeomens · 4 months

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Dress

Pairing: Will Ramos x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+ this is straight up self-serving porn!!!!!!! Minors go away!!!! Anyways this has got everything: Biting, p-in-v, blowjobs, fingering (female receiving), breeding kink, big ole praise kink, me projecting how badly I want to swallow William's load, I think that's it but by all means DM me or reply if you think I should add something!

Literally no one hmu unless it's to talk about this photo. It has nothing to do with the story but I wanna fuck him so bad so I'm putting it here. It's my blog I do what I want.

Yes I was listening to Dress by Taylor Swift as I wrote this!!!! Yes it's one of the horniest songs in her discography!!!! Leave me alone!!!!

Anyways.

This is straight up porn, no plot in sight, no beta because I'm insane, no fucks given because I'm a whore! Enjoy.

____________________________________________

Will was about to vibrate out of his fucking skin.

He’s irritable, too- a far cry from his usual “Sunshine and Rainbows” disposition. People kept trying to make conversation, ask him about the tour, compliment the new album. It would end with a curt, “Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” as his eyes would be dragged from whoever he was talking to back to you.

The dress was unfair. It was diabolical, even. He searched his memory, trying to come up with a reason you’d put him under such physical and emotional duress. He did the dishes last night, made breakfast this morning- he even folded the laundry! In terms of “deserving of death by nefarious garments,” his conscience was clear.

Yet there you were, clad in the slinkiest little black dress that he never knew you owned. You had spent hours in front of the mirror, perfecting your makeup, carefully styling your hair. It had been fun for him to watch; Fun to listen to your “Ultimate Emo” playlist and jam out while you painstakingly applied a swipe of lipstick, a striking mark of eyeliner. It was fun.

He stopped having fun the moment you stepped out in the goddamned thing.

“Zip me up?” You had asked, batting mascara-ed lashes at him sweetly. His brain had short circuited for a second, rebooting completely when it started overheating. Zip you up? He wanted to eat you up, toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and keep you in bed for hours.

“Where are you going in that?” He asked incredulously. Your breasts were about to fall out, fabric clinging to the small of your waist. There were other details- lace and ribbons and shit he didn’t have the vocabulary for when his head was running on all cylinders, much less now. You turned around so he could reach the zipper better, and he genuinely wondered if the anime nosebleeds were onto something with how quickly the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your ass stretching the fabric.

“Um, to the jamboree your label is hosting?” You retort with a giggle. “C’mon, we’re going to be late to this shindig if we don’t leave soon.”

He had complied, after some whining, zipping you up and kissing you softly on your shoulder, willing his cock to miraculously soften.

Then you had arrived, and he was swept away by record executives, you saw a group of gal-pals, and he had to keep his hands to himself.

For hours.

Will’s hands itched with the urge to reach out and touch you, twitching at his sides. Someone said something that must have been fucking hilarious, because you were laughing, head thrown back, chest heaving-

I can’t do this. He thinks to himself. This is a task for men stronger than me.

Quickly downing the last dregs of his cocktail, he impolitely excuses himself from the group he was speaking with, maneuvering through the mass of people to where you stood.

“Hi baby!” You call when he enters your line of sight, smiling brightly. You’re in a small group of people who also greet Will upon his arrival, immediately asking about the tour.

“It was a lot of fun, thanks for asking.” Will mumbles distractedly, eyes never leaving you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand, love bug?”

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh, sure.” You quickly excuse yourself from the group, leaving with warm goodbyes and tight hugs. Will thinks he’ll catch on fire before the two of you make it out of the building, but then you’re walking over to join him, the two of you quickly working through the crowd.

“Is everything okay, Will?” You ask when you’re both out of earshot. Concern is evident in your tone, and Will fights the urge to smooth the crease between your eyebrows with a kiss.

“Yeah, just itchy is all.” He murmurs to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you both exit the building. Itchy was a good word; He was practically crawling out of his skin with the urge to get you undressed, underneath him.

Guilt overtook your pretty features. “Oh baby, was the party too much? If you felt overstimulated, we could have left earlier-”

“No, I’m fine, pretty girl, really. It’s just-” He sighs, stopping in the parking lot to dig his keys out of his pocket.

“Did I do something?” You sound so sad, eyes widening. Will could practically see your mind sifting through the evening, trying to find some misstep.

“No, no baby- stop. I can see you overthinking, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” He sighs again, pausing by the car now. He glance around the two of you, making sure you were alone, before guiding your hand to his groin.

Your eyes went dark at what you found there. “Holy shit, you’re- how long?” You stammer, sounding hoarse.

“Ever since you put on that fucking dress.” He admits sheepishly.

“C’mon.” You nod towards the car, motioning for him to get inside.

You made quick work of shutting your door, Will about to start the car when you stop him.

“Leave it off.” You command, making his eyebrows shoot up in question. “Less conspicuous.”

“Less conspicuous for wha-” Will’s question was cut off as your lips locked with his in a searing kiss. You gripped his shirt in your hands, dragging him closer to you.

“All hard for me, huh?” You whisper against his lips.

He’s nodding before he realizes it. “So hard, baby, all fucking night, all for you.”

You’re nodding with him, already drunk off of the power you have over him. “Let’s get you taken care of then, yeah?”

You tear your lips away from his to better unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging the fabric down the best you could in the cramped space. He hisses as you pull his briefs down so that his cock can spring free.

“Holy shit.” You breathed, taking him in.

He’s always been big- you were familiar with that part- but you’d never seen him after being hard for hours. The veins on his cock were bulging angrily, the tip shiny with precum and deliciously red.

“Poor thing,” you say in a saccharine voice, leaning in to kiss the cherry-red tip.

He outright keens at that, hips barely jerking up, like it was taking everything to hold himself down. “Don’t be mean, pretty girl.”

You give him one last grin before you’re swallowing him down, stopping three-quarters of the way down to soothe your gag reflex.

“Fuck-“ Will gasps into the air, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. His grip tightens, and you feel your control over the situation slipping away. “Fucking tease tonight, huh? Not enough to wear your slutty little dress, couldn’t wait to get my cock in your mouth either, could you?”

You whimper almost silently at his words, but he feels the vibrations of it on his cock. “Little slut likes that? Does she want me to use her pretty mouth?” He continues, pulling you up by your hair just enough for you to be able to speak.

You relinquish any semblance of control you had when you manage a small, “Please.”

He grins at you, so far from his regular, cheerful smile, and pulls you in for one last kiss. It’s sloppy and wet and wonderful, and you’re almost sad when he yanks you away by your hair again to guide you down to his cock.

“Open.” He commands, the gruffness of his voice making you quickly do as you were told. His cock is in your throat immediately, but before you can gag, he’s pulling you back up roughly. You manage half a gasp of air before you’re being shoved back down, swallowing him again. He continues fucking your face at a brutal pace; Soon spit is covering your chin, and you can feel you mascara running down your cheeks in the form of tears.

“So fucking good for me.” Will grunts, hips thrusting up to meet your face. “Such a good girl, taking what she’s given.”

The praise makes you moan- or at least, as much as you could with him fucking your mouth so thoroughly. You’re lost in the sensation of him so deep in your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose as he uses you. His thrusts start becoming irregular, a chant of your name and “fuck” falling from his lips as his movements grew shorter and shorter.

Oh, you think. He’s so close, you can see it in the tension of his body, in the drawn-up expression on his face. You want nothing more than for him to finish in your mouth, to make you swallow it down, but he pulls out abruptly, chest heaving with labored breaths.

“Is something wrong?” You’re pouting, you can feel yourself pouting.

He sees your face and huffs a laugh, still panting. “Pretty girl wants my cum that bad?”

His words- the vulgarity of them- color your cheeks pink. Although… Yeah. That was exactly what you wanted. You nod, the smallest movement.

You think you hear him stop breathing, but then he speaks again. “C’mere, honey, I’ll give you what you need.” He motions to his lap, where his cock is beckoning you like a siren at sea. You hastily go to unzip your dress, but he stops you. “Leave it on.” His gaze drags down your form, back up to your throat, where his eyes linger for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. “Leave all of it on.”

His words make you shiver, but you obey, crawling over to straddle his lap. He yanks your panties to the side in record time, immediately thrusting two fingers into you. You mewl at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as your hand comes up to slap over your mouth to muffle the sound.

“Nuh uh, let me hear.” His voice is in your ear, nose rubbing against the lobe of it. “Let me hear your pretty sounds- God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You could hear him moving his fingers inside you, even over your own noises. You grind down into his hand without consciously realizing you’re doing so, chasing the pleasure his fingers brought you. You open your eyes blearily, wanting to see him, only to find that he’s studying that same spot again, right at the base of your neck. Jutting your chin up so that your throat is completely vulnerable, you give him a meaningful look.

He accepts the offer, teeth coming down to bite at your pulse point. The moan that escapes you is profane, dwindling to the pathetic whimper of an injured animal as he sucks at the skin where he bit, soothing it with his tongue. Your chest is next, ample cleavage on display for his lips to lock onto, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin with ease. The hand that’s not fucking into you grips onto your waist to leave another bruise, pulling you impossibly closer.

You know what he’s doing- Marking what’s his, letting everyone know who you belong to. And you couldn’t care less about the perception of it, lost in the pleasure of his lips and the sensation of being owned. Arching into his mouth, your hands tangle in his hair as your legs start to quiver with unadulterated want.

“‘M close, Will I’m-” You pant, tugging at his hair desperately.

“I know, pretty girl, be good and come for me so I can fuck you properly.” He whispers into your neck, and that’s all it takes to hurtle you over the edge, shaking with your orgasm even as he replaces his fingers with his cock.

It’s so much more- more girth, more length. It stretches you, fills you up to the brim. You’re still in the aftershocks of coming as he starts fucking you in earnest, yanking you into his chest until you feel like you can’t get a breath in. You’re practically wailing, the sensitivity of getting fucked so quickly after orgasming overwhelming, but it’s perfect.

“You’re my girl, right?” He’s grunting, holding you stationary while his hips rock up into you at break-neck speed. “My pretty girl, all mine.”

You nod, incoherently babbling, “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours-”

“Want my cum?” He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. It’s all love there- an all-consuming love that illuminates his gaze like a flame. “Want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you- Keep a baby in you?”

You’re nodding again, unintelligible sounds falling from your lips in response. “Please.” You finally manage to stammer out.

He’s almost smiling, a joyous kind of pleasure overtaking his features as his thrusts grow erratic for the second time that evening. Your grip on him tightens as you feel yourself get closer and closer, tears springing in your eyes from the overstimulation.

It hits you like a fucking train, face curled into his neck in a silent scream, legs spasming in every direction. He fucks you through it, coming in hot spurts inside you, thrusts growing sloppier until he finally nestles himself deep within you, setting you down gently in his lap again.

You’re panting and trembling, completely collapsed against his chest. The both of you sit like that a few long minutes, his hand rubbing at the exposed part of your back soothingly. When you feel an iota of strength return to your body, you’re craning your neck up to kiss his cheek.

He’s grinning, turning to look down at you. “Well shucks, thanks for the kiss, honey.”

You’re giggling with him, pushing yourself up so that your back is straight. You hiss as the movement moves him inside your sore hole, a shudder passing through your body.

“You better cut that out, I’ll fuck you again if you’re not careful.” He warns teasingly, hands gripping your hips lightly.

You flash him a grin, and then ready yourself for the chore of him pulling out. You know it’s going to be tender, but you still yelp as he slips out of you. Flopping into your seat, you give yourself another minute to collect your breath. He tucks his cock away, zipping up his pants carefully and starting the car.

You zone out for a moment, only recognizing the long silence that has stretched between the two of you after a few minutes more have passed. You look over at him, a question on your lips, when the look on his face makes you pause.

He’s staring in between your legs, a small pout on his face. “It’s leaking out.”

You throw your head back, barking a laugh at his distress. “I have an IUD as well, my love, I don’t think it’ll work no matter how hard you try.”

His eyes go dark at your words. “Then I’ll just try harder next time.”

Before you can respond, the car is in drive, and you’re headed home. You quickly buckle your seat belt, pulling down the passenger mirror to clean yourself up, stopping when you catch the first glimpse of your reflection.

Your makeup has smeared everywhere. Black streaks run down your cheeks in rivulets, your lipstick smudged around your mouth. Your tits are littered with bruises, lovebites of various colors decorating your skin. You look like a slutty fucking mess, You think to yourself. You’re searching for a napkin to wipe your face when Will speaks up again.

“Leave it.” He flips on his turn signal, pulling onto your street. His jaw is tight, and you swear you can see a bulge in his trousers. He turns to look at you as he puts the car in park in front of your house, eyes already glossed over again. “Leave all of it.”

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