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#manipulate him. I mean he knows SOMETHING is going on but mostly hes accepting their invitations to places because hes trying to figure out
fischlcatgirl · 7 months
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kavetham fic where they both get hanahaki at the exact same time and go "Well, Alhaitham/Kaveh knows that I have Hanahaki disease because I'm in love with him. So if his Hanahaki were because he were in love with me, he'd just confess!" I feel like you could play this either way like the premise of the fic is literally just that they cant fucking communicate LITERALLY to save their lives so it could be either funny as shit (so long as theyre not in too much peril) or hella angsty (as much peril as is necessary) but either way it could be soooo good
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tarjapearce · 10 months
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Strawberry Jam (Pt.2) +18
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DadBestfriendAu!Miguel x fem!Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SMUT, Breeding kink, Body Marking, Rough sex, mentions of Exhibitionism, fluff, daily situations.
Pt. 3
Ever since your dad knew about you and Miguel, things at home were tense for a while. You always had to meet up Miguel either at his home or he picked you up.
At first, your dad gave you both the silent treatment, but seeing Miguel trying to be a good man for you, chipped away the anger. He never stayed during the nights and always visited you during the 'appropriate' mingling hours.
He always got you flowers at every chance he got, and always respected your boundaries. And then, you met Gabriela. The child was sweet and polite, yet sharp and quite the observer.
At first, your relationship with her consisted in her making questions, such as "You like my dad alot?" "What do you like the most about him?" and a bold one "Dad knows when someone is for the money. But so far you seem cool enough."
Gabriela was smart, perceptive and of course a daddy's little girl. You were worried that things with her wouldn't work out. Something you had told Miguel, once you reached the three month dating milestone.
Despite the stress, one of the biggest achievements in your life approached, your college graduation. Two more months to go and you'd be free from college.
Miguel had taken you to a new, lovely and expensive looking restaurant to have a private celebration, previous to your graduation. Miguel had asked you about Gabriela, and how the kid secretly admitted to him that, ever since you got into his life, he seemed more at ease, more of a cool dad. Happier even.
Some people around you stared as you both kissed. Of course you were aware of the snide comments done around you whenever you were with Miguel. Mostly accusing you for being a gold digger, or being manipulative enough to make Miguel your personal sugar daddy.
But to Miguel, you were none of that. And he made sure to always remind you what you meant for him.
------
With the graduation around the corner, two days actually, your dad finally just accepted the fact you were dating his best friend. Still he was squeamish about you being alone with Miguel while he was gone out of business, but so far he had kept his promise to not knock you up, despite Miguel's discontent.
"So... whatcha gonna do once you've graduated, cupcake?" He ate his dinner as he sat across you. It was just the two of you.
"Well, my career coordinator landed me a spot in Alchemax."
"Oh really? Where?"
"In the Informatics department, as Dr. Bushman's assistant."
"Does Miguel know?"
"Not yet. I wanna surprise him."
"Hm."
Your dad sighed and looked at you, with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You really like Miguel, sweetie?"
"Of course. I mean... He's the best man I could ever had asked for. He knows what he wants, and so do I."
"I'm just a bit concerned on how you'd manage to... be a mother to Gabriela at such young age"
"I know it's gonna be hard, and that she might get some time to get used to it as well, but, I told her that I wanna be someone she can trust, besides Miguel, someone she can come home to and just tell her how much an amazing kid she is, because it's true." You sighed and looked at him.
"I had none of that growing up, because of mom's doings. And if it wasn't for you, sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would've turned out. But... that's why I've decided to break the cycle and be that figure to Gabriela. She's just... so sweet dad. And Imma do my best. For her, and for Miguel."
"Would you marry Miguel?"
The question sending a bright flush on your cheeks.
"W-We haven't spoken about that. I mean, we've been only dating for five months now."
"Still, would you?"
"I would, yeah. He's too much of a good man to just let someone else that wouldn't treat him the way he deserves, get him, ya know?"
"You love him?"
"Yes. And I don't know if it's wrong to feel such intensity in such little time. Just hope he feels that way too."
"Ah, cupcake. Miguel doesn't let anyone into his life so easily. It took me almost two years for him to get to trust me. And look at you. You're already having play dates with his daughter, and doing great with him, he's really attentive and wants the best for you as well. If that ain't love, I don't know what is it."
-------
Graduation was over, the celebration with your dad, Miguel and Gabriela was a success, and soon, you were back with your dad at home. Your dad went to sleep and soon you changed into more comfortable clothes
The doorbell rang half hour later, you went to pick up, and to surprise you saw Miguel.
"Hey, come in." He kissed you in the process and soon, gave you a bouquet of roses.
"Thank you, they're beautiful"
"Congratulations, princesa. Where's your dad?"
"Sleeping. He was exhausted."
"What about you?"
"Hm?"
"Are you tired?"
"A bit. But if you wanna go for a walk, I don't mind. Just let me get my sneakers on."
You went to your room, and grabbed a pair of sneakers. You were lacing them, and the door behind you closed, the lock clicking. Big and strong arms picked you up and made you straddle his hips.
"My dad's sleeping!" You mumbled between gritted teeth
"Even better."
"You're such a perv." You kissed him as his hands removed your shirt and smirked upon finding bare breasts.
"Me? You're not wearing a bra, cariño." his mouth grazing your neck as his hands held you in place.
"Never liked them anyways." Your giggles were replaced by a soft moan as his fangs nipped at your sensitive skin. His fingers hooked in the hem of your shorts and panties to slid them out your legs, leaving you bare before him. The socks and sneakers were the only thing that dressed you up.
In all reality was that despite your dad's initial rejection to your relationship, that didn't stop Miguel to have his fun with you in other places in your home, before cleaning of course.
You had gone from the kitchen, to the porch, the thrill of of your neighbors catching you was borderline maddening.
Miguel had a thing for exhibitionism. And so you had discovered once you were fucking in the attic's window. In his car in the middle of a parking lot? check, your garage? Done. Had to wash the front of your dad's car since your silhouette was engraved on it. Shower? twice already. Stairs? of course.
You wore a dress and that was enough for him to take you in the spot.
"Now that I think about it, your room is the only place where we haven't had fun." He twirled you around and positioned in all your fours on the bed. The smoothness of your skin, displayed before him. Puffed labia waiting for his ministrations.
"Ass up, face down." He commanded as you flattened your chest down on the plush bed, obeying at his words.
His hands took yours as he made them grab your ankles. Spreading your soft flesh for him even further. He groaned at the sight as he licked his lips.
He removed his clothes, and kneeled behind you.
"Where was the last time?" His mouth pressed soft kisses in your inner thighs, and then he moved to your nub of nerves. Your body tensed at the feeling of his wet tongue dribbling up and down your slit.
"T-The living room" you spoke in between tiny, shaky whines, his tongue flickering with speed on your clit, you trembled and bit your lip to drown a shaky moan. The suckling and kissing noises sent chills down your spine.
He hummed and released your flesh with a small pop
"Oh, right. Had your dad sitting where you rode my face..." You groaned as the grip on your ankles faltered, his thumb rubbed in slow motions the already sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Where you rode me" He nearly whimpered as the memory replayed in his mind. He sunk his face once more in between your folds, holding your hips in place, eating his food with such delight it made your toes to curl in.
"Dios, te veías tan preciosa montándome." (You looked so gorgeous riding me)
He growled and slapped your rear, that only jiggled and flushed softly in response.
"Bouncing over and over, tryin'to make me cum inside this tight little pussy..."
Your hips bucked by instinct at his words, Your folds glistened both in arousal and his spit. You were turned around and got your knees bend up to your shoulders, folding you into a mating press position. His wide shoulders flexed as his hands maneuvered yours to hold yourself in place.
"You trying getting knocked up, hmm?"
"Y-Yes" You hissed in between soft pants.
"Oh..." Your heart and pussy throbbed at his expression. Goosebumps making your  skin crawl, you could swear from the light that his eyes glinted red, his breath hitched. As if waiting for so long for you to say such words. And now that you had granted him permission, there was nothing holding him back.
God, What had you done?
A flicker of fear crossed your features as he smirked. His fangs in full display for you. He guided his tip and stroked it against your folds to then sink himself in you. He shuddered at the warmth and tightness welcoming him.
"Fuck" he groaned and looked at your face as he entered you, you choked a sob.
"Let's make a mami out of you" His words slurred an octave lower. He groaned and his hips smacked yours.
You gasped and he covered your mouth with a single hand.
"But you gotta be quiet, princesa. We don't wanna wake up your daddy when we're making a baby here." His hips rammed yours and your eyes went shut, inhaling sharply against his mouth. He remained deep buried, unmoving, relishing the heat your cunt provided.
His weight crushed your body, keeping your legs folded as he hovered over your face. His other hand craddled you, and his hips rolled again, earning a shaky whimper from you. He was going slow on purpose, a pace you weren't used to.
You could feel every inch digging inside you, stretching your flesh and poking at your cervix.
"Te vas a ver tan chula" (You're going to look so beautiful)
He breathed as he nibbled the skin of your neck, grazing his fangs, to then bit. you could only groan and sob into his hand.
"Round and swell with my kid growing inside you" His whole body kept you folded, as he slowly fucked its way into you. He refused to give in as you rocked your hips against his, urging him into a faster pace.
He was low and steady, mumbling how well you were taking him, how he couldn't wait to milk your breast once you got pregnant, and how pretty you'd look in his big shirts, belly popping out all while he kept fucking you in a torturous slow pace.
He kept cooing and mumbling things in spanish that you didn't understand, but his cock kissing your womb over and over, grazing sweetly at your spot, made your toes curled in.
"You cumming mi amor?" You nodded weakly as he pressed tighter on your mouth, your breath hitched and your body went taut.
"Esoo" (That's it) He kissed your temple and removed his hand, you gasped for air, panting and heaving as your insides trapped him.
"P... Please" you whimpered and looked at him as he repositioned himself above you. Both his hands held you now in place, giving him more access into you.
"Please what?" he gave a condescending smirk your way as he hoisted his hips upwards, without leaving you completely
"H-Harder" you croaked and he let his whole weight to fall on the firm and deep thrust. Your jaw clenched as he stretched impossibly deeper inside. Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes and he lifted his hips once more, air knocking out of your throat
"Sweet girl wants me to fuck her harder?"
You nodded dumbly, his tip stretching your entrance.
"Please!" you begged with a mewl. Mouth went slack open as he rammed his hips. Your breast bounced in between your hoisted thighs as you shook with every thrust his body mustered. He wasn't holding back. The room was filled with the sounds of his growlings, your mattress creaking under your weight, menacing to cave in the sturdy wooden frame and the constant slapping of flesh.
All you could hear was a
Slap a pause slap slap slap slap
Tears rolled down your cheeks as pleasure screwed up your judgement. Your mouth opened, ready to voice out your pleasure, but a hand on your neck prevented you from doing such nonsense. Fire licked at your skin
Your folds received him with a squelching suck each time he ventured deeper. It felt like you were made specially for him. So ever hot and tight no matter how much his cock stretched you, over and over.
"You're being too noisy, mi amor." He squeezed and you gasped. Air slowly leaving your lungs as he fucked the daylights out of you, just the way you were used to. This time however, you weren't on contraceptives anymore. And that fact alone was dangerously thrilling for him.
You didn't know what made you hotter, the fact you were actually trying in making a baby with Miguel while your dad slept, and he was making everything for you to be loud, or the way he always seemed to ravage you in hopes to get you pregnant.
But dizziness took over and your nails clawed at his squeezing hand as he came first with a deep growl, spurting all his seed deep in you. Hot and flooding your insides. Your muscles spasming only welcomed his cum deeper, your eyes rolled back.
"You'll be such a good mommy for me." He panted and let your neck go, his mouth kissed softly at your marked skin. Red handprint glowed on your flesh as you wheezed and panted for air,
His eyes softened at your blissful blown face, to then pepper you with kisses. You were trying to find your voice as your numb hips finally went back to a natural and laid back position. Legs shaking softly. Breaths coming steady, He stared at you, a warm feeling spreading on your chest.
"I...-"
"Cupcake?" You dad spoke from the other side of the door.
You froze, Miguel chuckled silently
"Uh, yeah?" you rasped, trying for your voice to not sound as hoarse as it was
"I'll go to the store. Want something?"
"Some cherry cola, please."
"Gotcha. Be right back."
His steps faded until you could hear the main door being closed and his car revving. You couldn't help but giggle, he followed and kissed you.
----------
"You ok?" Miguel handed a papercup full with coffee to your dad as he watched you going through some some bridal gowns.
"Yeah... Just... She's getting married."
"Hm."
"To you."
Miguel frowned and your dad smirked with mirth.
"I once asked her if she would, but seeing this turning into a reality is... overwhelming."
The both men watched as you and Gabriela scrunched their noses at a particular dress and then laughed.
"Bad timing then."
"Hm? For what?"
"She's been moody and emotional lately."
"... Shut up..."
"I kept my promise didn't I?"
Your dad only rubbed his face and sipped his coffee.
"Guess you did. Nothing I can do about it I guess."
Miguel's eyes followed you as you took Gabriela's hand and led her to another section of the bridal shop.
Despite your request of being a private and intimate ceremony, Miguel still insisted into wearing a white dress.
"Would it be fucked up to say that I'm glad you're the one marrying my little cupcake?"
"Very. Still.. Glad you understand that I'm serious about it. Does her mom know?"
"Yeah, didn't care. Never did, actually."
"I see."
"As long as you're making her happy, that's all I care about."
"That's a promise."
"Im sure she'll buy waterproof makeup, she's quite the-"
"Crybaby? Yeah. I know. Quite adorable when her nose goes all red."
Your dad chuckled. As messed up the whole thing was, according to some of his most trusted coworkers, he felt a huge weight being lifted out of his shoulders. 
-------
If you wanna be added to nsfw related fics of Miguel let me know!
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@um-well
@capmedusa
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@thbidkbutok
@joestarbitch
@angelarcheangel
@ewan-tef
@gejo333
@hyunrelics
@topreice
@luvstich
@loonalockley
@allysunny
@punk-22
@jesterglitch
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@roselove105
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slasher-male-wife · 1 year
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Slashers with an airhead s/o
I like to joke that I'm a bit of an airhead which is kinda true at times. I'm playing this up a bit for fun.
Includes: Pyramid head, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair
Warnings: Talk of murder and violence, Slashers kinda manipulating reader
Pyramid Head
When he first meets you he's going to think that you're too dumb to kill and too dumb to let you go. He's surprised that you haven't died yet to be honest.
You're going to have to go with him wherever he goes or stay in a safe place just in case something bad happens. He doesn't want you getting hurt.
He can't talk or use his voice at all but sometimes he wishes he could sigh in response to some of your questions or laugh at some of the things that you do like running into walls or failing to put something together.
He knows that you're smarter in certain areas more than others. He knows you're not totally helpless but when he had to rescue you from a room for the fifth time that week because you forgot how to unlock it he's going to be worried.
Patrick Bateman
Your airhead tendencies is part of the reason he's dating you. He was going to kill you at first but when you looked at him holding an ax and wearing a rain coat and you just smiled and asked "Is it raining outside?" He knew that he couldn't kill you.
Will constantly remind you of things you often forget. Will probably feel the need to help you with almost everything that you do. "Honey you're right handed, why are you using your left hand to cut the vegetables?" "Darling the tapes go in with the title facing us."
He's pretty happy that you're kind of an airhead because he doesn't have to worry about you figuring out he kills people. It's also easy to get your attention with pretty objects and to keep you occupied while he works.
Feels a little proud of your more smart moments. I feel like when you're able to have a basic conversation about stocks with him after he's explained them to you at least 30 times he's going to smile about it. "So I saw in the paper that stock prices are going up. That's a good thing right?" "It is honey. I'm glad you remembered.
Hannibal Lecter
Like Patrick he's going to take advantage of you being an airhead. You'll have questions about the meat he's serving but you'll just accept that it's some kind of cow organ or duck.
He'll laugh at your more airhead moments. Or at least smile. He'll walk in on your doing the L hand thing for left and right for the third time that day and he'll smile about it.
Will also use his money to keep you occupied. He'll use it as rewards in a way too. If you're excelling in learning a new skill or subject he'll treat you with something expensive.
If anyone is ever mean to you about how you're not the sharpest he's going to take care of them. Nobody is going to insult his s/o even if they are a little dumb.
Bo Sinclair
Bo isn't the smartest person either but it's a little comical to him how dumb you are. He's surprised you didn't crash your car on the way here. "Whens the last time you had your oil changed?" "You're supposed to change it?" He's going to quickly decide that he can't kill you.
Like mostly everyone on this list he like that you're a little dumb. He's surprised he even had to tell you that he kills people when you literally broke a finger off a figure and said "You guys but bones in your figures?"
Like Hannibal he will defend you against anyone who tries to make you feel bad for being on the dumber side. He knows you're an airhead but only he can mention it.
Will help you learn more basic knowledge so you can help around the house and stuff like that. He's probably almost had a stroke several times while trying to explain to you that you can't use cooking oil on cars, on different occasions.
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yanderecandystore · 10 months
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I love the yandere monster story, can I make a wish for some yandere monster boy naga who is looking for a mate to carry his eggs and live the rest of his life together forever?
I don't condone yandere shit irl, but if you bang a naga man someday I'll give you a pass and a cookie, you mad lad. Not proofread enough lmao, also sorry but I really don't know how to type s e x.
Tw/Tags: straight up NSFW/+18 scene (written by someone who struggles to imagine sex- So we don't guarantee quality) // not very descriptive genitals, if at all // the usual yandereness + breeding kink; possessive behavior; manipulation; suffocation; implied oviposition but not really cause I'm dumb // you're a literal desert mailman💀 I'm sorry // brief mentions of troubled family life/past trauma // language barrier // self-conscious reader // willing yet slightly scared reader.
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
Writing in the sand [Yandere!Male!Naga x AFAB!Messenger!Reader - One shot]
Being a messenger was actually a lot more dangerous than it seemed at first, how many times have you and your camel met with bandits, scammers, difficult terrain, awful weather, people who would tell you the wrong direction for shits and giggles?? MANY times, but did you ever consider quitting and going back to the tea shop of your very judgmental parents or worse- To accept the offer of personal servant to that weird queen from the faraway lands who wouldn't shut up about how much better her kingdom was?? NO!
I mean a little bit. Just a little bit. Occasionally, I mean her kingdom was really pretty, though constant snow sounds like a pain in the ass, and giving up the freedom you currently have for either a strict monarch or your family was NOT something you were planning to do, ever!
The first time you got off the borders to send messages for far away people was the day you truly felt alive for once! The desert itself was your greatest rival and yet you faced it head down after that day- Sure, you were unprepared at first and there's still plenty to learn out there but it was EXCITING!!
You fought (ran away as quickly as you could) many groups trying to get a coin out of your body, or your life! Or your camel!! King Mustard wasn't the same after the "giant scorpion with that group of thieves" incident that happened, the worst part is that it happened twice though the people were different at least. Your personal theory is that the scorpion WAS the same from before, and that it has been following you through your journeys and it probably was looking for revenge!!
You told that story to so many people that now it's hard to go someplace without repeating yourself, it's weird how even though you're never at one place for too long, most people know you! You're, humbly speaking, sort of a big deal in the great drylands- Not known for your bravery but mostly for your constant running mouth and your adapted technique in how to extract cactus juice safely from a cactus with 70% success of no cactus drunkenness! (100% Needle-safe not included).
Stopping in a town was obviously the safest place for you and your camel, but was also probably one of the most rewarding parts of your trips, of course because you always need to have plenty of resources out there in the sand but also because… Well, as much as you loved every second of exploration and travel, you were admittedly a very lonely person.
It's not something you like to tell others, as you have already experienced people doubting your capability of being a messenger if you get so "emotional" over being far away from people ("I told you so!" Yeah, thanks mum.). It was a time you could feel at least safe and… Sometimes welcomed.
But it wasn't always a lonely trip, after all, King Mustard was here! Him with his big personality was always the heart of the party! Everyday was fun with him, even if he couldn't speak to you… However, that doesn't mean you haven't found great comfort in your travels, you probably haven't noticed this yourself yet, but [y/n]...
You are a very dear person.
Every person you've helped along the way in your trips, just by coincidence finding them, and landing them a hand in the hot and harsh reality of the desert thinks of you dearly. You have friends! It's just that you don't see them very often… If at all. The desert has a funny way of getting people closer, people who struggle to survive in its environment, and yet it also drifts them away- The wind blows in every direction separating every small particle of sand, and maybe one day they'll meet again, or maybe not. Cruel was it, with its breathtaking beauty and extremely cold personality for someone so hot and merciless.
You often associate the desert with its forgotten god. You tend to talk about it as a person rather than just an environment of harsh conditions, you always remember to talk to it, hoping it would listen in a way. You were pretty much by yourself out there, but thinking that someone was listening to your travels made you feel safer, perhaps not as tormented as the blazing Sun would leave you to believe. You were being watched, and protected, you just knew it!
The proof of it came from one of the greatest encounters you ever had during your travels.
It was really hot that day, King Mustard seemed really tired and you were melting under the blazing heat- You two needed shelter and fast! And suddenly, as if the gods listened to your prayers!-(But quickly threw you two middle fingers)- An immense sandstorm was approaching!! For someone as cautious as you, you couldn't understand where the hell it came from!! It was so sudden and just- There was no indication of it!! At all!!
You got knocked out, and when you woke up- You were… Somewhere strange, like an underground oasis of sorts, hidden in the desert there was a cave of luscious greenery and drinkable water, it was magical how big the place was!! You thought you had died and went straight to Paradise!!
At least, you thought so when you saw a very large and handsome man staring back at you, smiling gently. He had tanned skin and a REALLY long, almost platinum hair! He looked so gorgeous with his green cat eyes that you almost forgot to breathe!
You asked the man if he was an angel, and he responded to you in a language you didn't understand. You were 100% certain that the man was really an angel and yet when he revealed the lower part of his body your face dropped immediately, terror slightly setting in. He was half snake, half a giant snake at that! His tail seemed endless, those dark scales were so pretty yet so terrifying! The gold markings seemed very regal and holy in nature but the endless darkness almost seemed to eat it all up! Like a demon!
You freaked out at first, but when you looked at his eyes, his gentle face- His expression of concern, those big bright eyes, you noticed he really didn't seem to have any ill intent towards you, perhaps you were misjudging him for something he was not. After breathing in and out, you calmed down, never taking your eyes from him, you felt comforted as you realized this creature was the one who saved you out there! And who saved your camel!! He was still really scared of your snake buddy, but you made sure to soothe him.
Long story short, you became friends with a human-snake guy who seemed genuinely very cool! It's a shame you didn't understand a word he said… You suspect that maybe he speaks in a very ancient language and perhaps this means he was REALLY old!! And yet, he seemed just about your age, and you got to hangout with him during your free time.
Poor thing, he seemed trapped down here (though to be fair, it is a fabulous prison to be in-) and he really wanted to catch up with times! So you made it your duty to help him understand the new world, you have no idea why he is here and how long did he live here separated from the rest of the world, but now that you knew how to get there and how to get out- You made it your mission to teach him everything you knew about the modern world.
And although the language barrier was massive, you two somehow got to learn something very special about each other- He shared with you his name, "Rakaski", and you got to teach him yours.
~"[y/n]"~ His accent was heavy, and yet you felt something flutter inside you whenever you heard him call your name. You remember him repeating your name over and over again as if he wanted to memorize how to say it.
After hearing his name, you made sure to research it, trying to find something that could lead you to know what language he was talking in- But no books nor people seemed to know how to speak it, except for one book you found, a fairytale book that was so old that it was a nightmare trying to understand the vernacular! But it didn't seem like a very "old" old kind of book, it was probably made after the language had changed, there were a lot of words that you didn't recognize.
The book never explained the name's meaning really, but it was always used as a common word- And given the context of the story you read, it seemed to mean either "falling" or "god"? Well, you're not very sure, since the book was confusing as hell, and your interpretation of the story was very mixed- Was it about a desert deity or a man that kept tripping over in the sand?! Seriously, why did it have to be so confusing!?
In the end, you still didn't understand the book and neither did you find out anything about Rakaski's name. At least you know it was older than your home kingdom, which was pretty cool.
Either way, the lack of communication never stopped you from coming down that hidden paradise to talk to your best friend every opportunity you could! King Mustard can be very squeamish whenever you guys try to get down there, he really disliked going there and you assumed it was because he was claustrophobic, which you already knew he was. So, today you'll leave him in the shade and get down by yourself, you don't want to stress the poor thing.
"M-Mustard! King Mustard Junior The Third, stop pushing me around!! You know you're a lot heavier than me! Seriously, this isn't funny!!" Ah, King Mustard, for a camel you're really just a scaredy cat! You push him away gently as you can, he keeps positioning himself in front of the hole you want to jump in.
"Hey stop!! If you don't want to come then fine, but let me get in! Please! I'll be back soon!" The massive animal was starting to get a little too agitated, and you knew better than to try to force your way.
"Mustard, seriously you're starting to scare me, you know I'll be back soon, please let me get down." You don't know if it was the deep magical connection of friendship that made him understand you and realize that he scared you, or if he suddenly felt disinterested in playing with you right now.
Taking by how the camel sassily walked away you're starting to think it was the second option- Of was he genuinely insulted by your stubbornness? Who knows.
"Sigh… You always get like this when we pass by." Though you can't really blame him, you know he still distrusts Rakaski, but come on it's been a year! And Rakaski has never hurt any of you two! Sure, he was a bit intimidating at first but he had a good heart, you just knew that.
Compared to the men back in your hometown? Rakaski was a saint, you were sure of it.
You had slid through the sandy hole and into the luscious underground with ease, you started to call for him, but before you could even yell out "Ra" you saw him not so far away, seemingly very occupied.
"Awn, guess you're decorating! Have I come at a bad time?" You walked to him and joked despite being aware he wouldn't understand you.
The way his face lit up and turned to face you was just so precious, he seemed very excited!
~"[y/n]!! [y/n]!! It's really good to see you again!! I was already worried you would never come."~ He talked just like you, committing the same mistake of talking as if the other would understand- You had no clue what he said, but as he coiled around you and his arms squeezed you oh so dearly you understood exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, yeah- Missed you too-" You never knew how to deal with anything social, period, and being flustered at someone who wasn't even human was not a first but it never got easier. But with him, at least, you feel like you don't need to pretend that you don't feel slightly flustered by his attention. Gods know you're a very easy target for large and very well built men.
After he let you go, you realized he was just building a new nest for him, so you decided to help him as well. It was already pretty much done when you got in, but you felt like he deserved a "fancy" bed so you helped him decorate with flowers and some of the trinkets you bought for him, he just loved human trinkets!
And by the gods, you knew you were currently in Spring, but these flowers?! They were just so damn pretty, it's a real shame that your traveling is mostly done in sand, occasionally though you have to go to the East to deliver important letters and gifts and you just kinda love that place! Every time you go, they're experiencing a different season, and it all changes so much, it's beautiful!!
"Oooh!! Maybe I should bring you flowers from one of the neighboring kingdoms, it'll be a way to show you the world since you can't leave…" You think out loud, and of course, he looks at you a little confused- And yet he repeats the word you said.
"Flowers?" He repeats it as if he didn't understand what you said, yet liked how you said it.
"Yes! Flowers!-" You say pointing to the flowers in his nest and surrounding you two, he quickly understands it, it seems.
~"Oh! Flowers! Oh, that's what it's called to you? Great heaven's, humans are always changing, aren't they?"~ He starts to laugh, you… Sort of don't understand the joke, but perhaps "flowers" just sounds funny to him.
He patted your head as he laughed, as if trying to congratulate you on making him laugh (I mean, getting this man to laugh was a challenge, you bet even without the language barrier).....
Although, it felt more like a "reward" sort of situation… As if he was rewarding you for… Being so entertaining, you suppose! Still, that's probably just all in your head, besides you know well when someone is being condescending to you, you're sure of it! Years inside your family's house has made you a pro in spotting bad apples from far away. I mean, you like to think you do, to be fair Rakaski was a little difficult to read, and sometimes he did things that you probably weren't sure of what they meant.
But then again, he was a very old half snake dude trapped inside a cave somewhere along the rock formations spread all over an unforgiving desert, his social life was probably a lot worse than yours, and who's to say that his antics aren't based on his own culture? Perhaps snake people like to coil around each other to show affection, even if it's really hard to breathe like this.
Things weren't so complicated between you two, however, as you guys have invented a form of simple and more direct communication through pointing to objects and scribbling on paper. You had thought about using sign language, so you learned a couple of words and tried to use with him-
"So- This means that- Hm..?"
But before you could teach him he already was talking to you through hand signs you didn't understand, he was very well adapted and you only knew a few like "hello", "you", "me" and "see you soon"- Which would be the most used one for you two.
"Huh, you always impress me, maybe you should be the one teaching me-" You bowed down, genuinely impressed with what you saw, and he seemed very content with himself as he smugly pretended to wave and throw kisses to a nonexistent audience. His ego was always a bit inflated, wasn't it?
You decided to cut your visit short and return back to King Mustard as you didn't want to leave him waiting for too long. It's funny how neither him nor Rakaski liked each other despite sharing a diva personality. As you waved your goodbye, Rakaski decided to give you one last big hug.
A hug that didn't seem to end at all. His body wrapping around you and leaving you to feel surrounded by darkness. This usually happened so it didn't come as any surprise. You tried to tickle him as that usually worked.
"Come on now, you know I'll be back soon!" You laughed as you tried to provoke him, his belly was so sensitive that you could see him contracting and trying to avoid giggling.
But he didn't let you go. Your attempt only made him restrict you further, the snake body trapping your hands with its weight.
You were well aware of Rakaski's animalistic tendencies, for example he was cold blooded and constantly held you to try to gain some height, like he is doing now.
You know that when he yawns his jaw unhinges and opens so inhumanly wide that you have to close your eyes so you won't have any more nightmares about it.
You know he is nocturnal so he is constantly feeling a little too sleepy whenever you two hangout, as you often come to see him during the day (which was something you did for safety, though you sometimes worry he is having trouble sleeping because of you-).
And you also know that snakes tend to suffocate their prey with their body before eating them whole.
While trying not to judge him as a human eating monster you still feel very, very terrified of the slight chance he might be hungry and has forgotten you're not food. The more you struggle the tighter it gets, and it doesn't help that his skin is so cold, it makes your nerves flare up as you can hear him growling with what you hope is not hunger.
"RAKASKI-!!" You yell, you couldn't help it, you were starting to feel dazed. While closing your eyes you felt his lower body shift and relax, you felt arms hugging you a lot more gently than the suffocating sensation from before. If it wasn't for his lazy eyes and the internal chuckling you can feel in his chest you would say he was actually hungry for you. He was just trying to scare you.
"Sigh, you'll be the death of me- Seriously you scared me to death!" You tried to push him off you, but he basically threw his entire body weight on you as you fell to the ground with your back on the soft yet not very ideally comfortable grass.
"Shhhh~!" He nuzzles on you while hugging your stomach. Normally he would have let you go now after petting your head or pretending to bite your neck just for funsies- But today he is very much not letting you go, at all.
Okay, you really didn't want to address the situation, you weren't planning on ever talking about it of course but- By the gods, you knew better than to assume his playful smile was just his usual silly self.
Oh, who were you kidding, you knew it from the moment you came in and saw the nest he was making, it's not like you haven't noticed his chest rising and falling as if he was struggling to breathe just by talking with you. You wanted to leave because you noticed that perhaps you took the wrong month to visit him.
It was mating season, wasn't it? Why now? Why today?! And why WERE YOU ACTUALLY CONSIDERING IT?!!!
"Okay I think I need to think about this a little more- I mean you're clearly not thinking straight right, I'm not even a snake lady, man!" You try to push him off you as you avoid eye contact, the worst part is that he was fairly attractive for someone's who's lower body was just one huge snake tail.
He wouldn't budge, he only shifted his head to look at your face, even if you were avoiding him you could feel his smirk creeping around the corner of your vision, you wouldn't be surprised if he knew what you also knew.
I mean, it wasn't a secret you liked him was it? You thought you didn't mind him noticing this but this sudden desire just feels like it's happening all too fast and you're worried it might be just a one time thing, that he is acting like this out of instinct not out of actual desire towards you. And well you never really did this before, I mean not with someone like him, at all! But you had experiences with people before.
Bad experiences. The ones that would leave someone worried for years that they're not good enough to anyone. Were you being cautious or were you just being self-conscious? Were you scared of him not liking you when this high of his diminished? Maybe you just weren't sure if this was a good idea.
"I don't know if I'm really ready for this." You confess, looking back at him- Hoping to find your answer.
And he looked back at you with a sad expression, did he understand what you said? Did he understand what you meant at least? He looked so concerned and genuinely "awake" despite his current very urgent instincts. He held your hand and kissed it for reassurance, you didn't notice you were crying until your vision was blurry and your chest was aching.
"Sorry.." You tried to wipe them yourself, you don't know why you're apologizing. Rakaski didn't seem to take it well, he was about to say something before shaking his head vigorously and wiping your tears himself. He came closer to look you in the eyes, stop staring elsewhere, you won't find comfort anywhere else but those eyes.
He decides to come off of you and give you some space despite his initial reluctance, the gentle and almost warm presence of reassurance leaving with him- And before he could give you space you decided to make the first move yourself.
You kissed him, hoping perhaps he would understand the gesture, and he did! He hugged you and kissed you back returning your neediness… Though coming in with a lot more desperation than you thought. Not seconds after forcing his tongue in despite your unisseanes.
I mean, it 's good! He isn't being horrific at it is just that you have underestimated how badly he seemed to want this. And although you're just as interested in this as he is, you're worried you may not hold to the same durability as he has.
Today was the day. Today had to be day, and he wouldn't have it any other way. To wait longer would be torture and you best believe this man was patient. He wasn't expecting you to almost reject him at first of course, oh you almost gave the immortal a heart attack!
He shouldn't have been so pushy, he knows that, but having your soft lips on his was so worth it that he couldn't help himself as he pinned you down again, ah… It's a shame the nest is so far away, this is not a very classy way to do things.
Then again, ripping off your clothes with no regards was probably not very refined either, humans needed a lot more courting than he was aware of- But it was fine! You were doing just great, you were being so good to him, he wishes he could praise you in your own language so you could understand him.
~"You're so lovely for something so fragile, thank you for accepting me- You have no idea how long I've spent being trapped here knowing damn well there's not a single other like me out there."~ He would praise you in his own tongue in frantic breaths while kissing your neck and nibbling in your ear, while his lower body made sure to lock you in place, you were a little scared, weren't you?
~"I'm genuinely sorry for having to put you in this position but I can't take it anymore- But I know you want this as well, I know you do!"~ He usually was very talkative, but there was something in his voice that sounded shaky, desperate, and his hands were too confused on where and what to grab that you noticed he seemed just as inexperienced as you were.
Well, at least you thought so before he spread your legs and started to rock back and forth in your lower region- It's not exactly that he is inexperienced, but he is very much off his mind right now- His movements aren't uncertain, they're just frantic for any release. Not that he won't tend to you as well, he just really needs this right now. But you'll understand, you always do. You always treat him so well, despite the monster he has become.
~"It'll hurt, and I'm not sure if it's only a little. I promise to make it worth it later to you."~
You were struggling to keep up with his weird and off putting rhythm- He was just so ready for this, it's been on his mind ever since he found you unconscious inside his natural prison, but he knew better than to be selfish to someone he'll have to share a nest with.
~"It'll be great don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be well taken care of. It'll be incredible, my treasure."~
You shivered when he went from humping your lower region to undressing kissing it almost as passionately as he did your mouth- He should probably move a little slower considering he changes activities way too quickly but hey it felt better than the awkward dry humping.
It wasn't bad, but it lacked a bit of finesse- Not like his careful and calculated attention to your privates right now-
"Humans need a lot more work than I remember, but does that mean we can make it last longer? Would you want that, treasure? [y/n]?" Rakaski was playing with it almost as if he never looked at something like a naked human before, but it was a lie- He was absolutely just trying to tease you with every poke and flick.
He ran his finger down slowly before reaching an opening and pulling it inside, at least one to feel you inside. It's lovely that you arch your back to the littlest of things, and although he doesn't understand your words, moans are hardly hard to misinterpret.
"Slower then? I guess I was being too unprepared, I'll be honest that it's more fun than I expected. If this is the work I have to do every time then I'll gladly accept." Human courting was fascinating to him, though now he understands why, he can't just expect you to take it all in with a little help- And helping someone never tasted so sweet.
You were feeling embarrassed by his stare as he licked you out and further tried to spread you- Trying to ease the inevitable soreness that would come but damn, did he have to look at you like that?! It made you feel a little dirty, a little too embarrassed to entertain his idea, for someone who seemed so eager to shove it in without any foreplay he was really taking his time now!
You grabbed his hair carefully, you didn't really notice what you were doing and to be honest you weren't sure how to continue with this but Rakaski looked at you in awe… His smugness was replaced with a look of pure adoration- His pupils wide and round as he expects you to guide him.
It gave you a bit more confidence knowing he trusted you to hold his head and sort of help him find the right pacing.
You don't remember for how long it went, you just remember that it ended with you on top of him, going at your own pace. He held your hips not stopping you to go as fast or as slow as you wanted but rather because he felt very uncomfortable NOT holding every centimeter of you. He needed to grab into something and your sweet flesh was exactly that.
You woke up in his nest, feeling a little disoriented, memories of what happened a little foggy, but you were sure it wasn't a dream considering the soreness in your thighs- It was hard moving.
You sighed, feeling weirdly satisfied- Well, that's not the right word, more like… Well, genuinely happy.
You tried around, and you saw Rakaski curled up into a ball, sleeping so peacefully and yet with that little mischievous smirk in his face you just knew he was dreaming about it.
You turned your body to face him, deciding to close your eyes and sleep a little more.
Until you remembered you left your camel outside.
"HOLY GODS, KING MUSTARD!!" You jumped up, trying to run as quickly as you could towards the entrance- But you couldn't even leave the nest when Rakaski wrapped his tail on you and pulled you closer.
"WAIT! It 's my camel!! I forgot I left him-"
"Stay." He said in a very half awake voice.
"You can talk…?"
"Stay." Rakaski wrapped himself around you, as he buried his face in your neck. You weren't sure if he was understanding what you said, or if he only understood the meaning of that one word.
"Rakaski, I'm just going to check on him, I'll be back soon, I promise-" You pushed his chest away. You shouldn't have done that.
Rakaski tightened his grip around your body.
"Stay. [y/n]. You're not supposed to walk so soon. Stay still, no mother should walk so early after mating…" He still sounds so sleepy, so innocent, but his half opened gaze was not… friendly.
"Rak- AH!-" Tighter, and tighter, and more tighter. He knows damn well that whenever you get to that camel you're leaving him for gods know how long, but as he stated before, soon to be mothers shouldn't walk around in the dead of night especially since he knows humans don't deal well with the coldness of the desert during this hour.
It's better to stay here and let him take care of you while you're now waiting for his kids, even if you aren't aware of it. He isn't sure how long hybrids take to be born, but he wasn't to be there for you every step of the way.
"Shhhh…. Go back to sleep, stop struggling, it is not good for you…" He kissed you goodnight as he suffocated you back to sleep.
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
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faux-ecrivain · 2 months
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Yan Therapist x gn darling ———————————— (Name’s Conroy Simons) (Name means; Conroy; ’Wise advisor’ Simons; ’listener’) (Thirty Fourth Official Post) ———————————————— Yan therapist who hates his job, he finds it all tedious, and he hates listening to people talk about their problems. Why did he ever accept this job? Yan therapist that used to love his job, every day he’d wake up excited to make a change in someone’s life. But after doing it for so long, 7 years to be exact, he’s no longer excited, and would much rather be retired. Yan therapist that does his best to mask his exhaustion, but ultimately fails when you ask him what’s wrong. Yan therapist that insists nothing is wrong, he doesn’t really like opening up. Yan therapist that reluctantly spills his guts after some intense persuasion on your part. Yan therapist that starts to look forward to your visits, you’re a surprisingly good conversationalists, when you aren’t feeling spiteful that is. Yan therapist that starts to take notes, not about your mental health (although he does take note of that), but about what you like, and who you like. You know, personal throngs like that. Yan therapist that gets jealous anytime you mention someone besides him, he gets especially jealous when you ramble about the love of your life (can’t you see that he’s the only one for you?). Yan therapist that “accidentally” started stalking you. (He’s only trying to keep you safe!) Yan therapist that starts to manipulate you, he tries to rationalize his actions by pretending that he’s doing what’s best for you.
(“Are you sure about this, doc? I mean, I don’t really think my friend’s all that bad.” Conroy sighs and smiles politely, masking the anger he feels when you question him.
“Yes, dear, I’m positive. It’s best if you stop spending time with them, they’ve done nothing but upset you, and confuse you. Don’t you remember when they left you behind at the mall? Or when they stole your sister’s boyfriend?”
He reminds you of all the terrible things that your friend did and makes you question your friendship with them. Still, you’re uncertain. “I don’t know, doc, I mean, that was all in the past. Surely, it’s okay to hang out with them now?” Conroy sighs and shakes his head, which causes you to groan because now he’s going to give you a lecture about listening to him.)Yan therapist that uses the close friendship the two of you curated to isolate you from your other friends, and people who may want to steal you from him. Yes, that includes your sister and your extended family. Yan therapist that gets irritated every-time you question him, why must you be so bullheaded? Don’t you know he’s only trying to keep you safe? Yan therapist that decides the only way to keep you safe is to keep you with him. Yan therapist that invites to his house at some point and eagerly hopes that you’ll agree. (Mostly because it’ll be easier to kidnap you that way) Sadly, you refuse his invitation, something about being uncomfortable in a stranger’s house. Instead, you decided to invite him to your house, which he happily agreed to. Yan therapist that looks forward to going to your house, his joyous mood is noticed by everyone at work (patients and colleagues included). Yan therapist that dresses in his best outfit (which is a rather sharp suit and a comfy turtleneck sweater, a strange combination, I know) when he comes to your house.
(You greet him with a friendly smile and compliment his outfit, which, of course, causes him to internally gush. But, he plays it cool and pretends your compliment didn’t mean the world to him. “Oh, thanks, it’s just something I threw on.” He shrugs, and you chuckle, then invite him inside.
Conroy shuffles into your house, the moment his feet his the threshold a strange feeling washes over him. It’s a mix of apprehension and elation. He can’t explain it, but it’s as though he stepped into a sacred place. A place that you only allow your closest friends to enter (this wasn’t true, of course, but he’s an idiot, and has no idea what you’re planning) Yan therapist that thinks this will simply be a friendly visit that may, or may not, lead to something more. (He eagerly accepts any, and all, hospitality you show him. Happily sipping the tea you made, even if it was scalding hot, and happily eating the scones you made, no matter how strange they tasted.) Yan therapist that listen to everything you say, even though it doesn’t make any sense (all your words are slurring together and for a moment, he thinks you’re drunk). Yan therapist that desperately tries to be active in the conversation, despite how strangely tired he’s feeling. He yawns and blinks rapidly as he desperately fights sleep. Yan therapist that’s ignorant to the malicious smile you flashed him. Yan therapist that succumbs to his exhaustion with reluctance, his cup falls out of his hand, and would have landed on the floor had you not caught it. You chuckle menacingly and, with some effort, tote his unconscious body into your basement. Yan therapist that wakes up many hours later to you taunting him for falling for your tricks, and yet he can’t help the strange joy he felt upon knowing that you spent many months planning his abduction. Yan therapist that’s slightly angry you abducted him because that was his plan! But, also, now he doesn’t have to try that hard to keep an eye on you! Yan therapist that decides this isn’t so bad, I mean, you aren’t the worst captor in the world (there’s room for improvement though, and luckily, he’s a master manipulator. So getting you to treat him better shouldn’t be too hard.) and you haven’t harmed him. Yes, you were a bit overzealous, but who isn’t from time to time? ———————————————————
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pagannatural · 2 months
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1.19
Provenance part II
-This is the second angstiest fight they’ve ever had. I don’t even know where to begin.
-Dean is worried about Sam (is he ever not worried about Sam? no), that’s why in this episode he keeps pushing him to hook up with someone. It’s different from his usual crass teasing.
Sam is frustrated because he really is not interested in Sarah or any women at this point, and hurt because Dean’s pushing him too much
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He yells at Dean
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It sounds like the kind of fight the love interests would have before one of them finally admits they care because they’re in love.
Dean’s tone shifts. He’s genuine and serious. He says he doesn’t mean any disrespect but he’s sure this is about Jessica, and he would think she’d want him to be happy. (Dean wants Sam to be happy). Sam looks away, says “I know she would” softly, before looking back at Dean, biting his lip slightly, holding something back.
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Sam exhales like he’s decided to admit something and says “you’re right, part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”
Dean asks “then what’s it about?”
Sam holds his gaze, vulnerable, his eyes moving over Dean’s face, before looking down. He looks like he’s going to break, like he’s going to cry, for a split second. He looks almost ashamed.
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He doesn’t answer, and Dean’s expression is like Oh. That. He looks helpless. Sam looking at Dean like that was his answer.
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But he quickly regains composure and lies back on the bed, gaining distance, feigning casualty, crossing his arms. He changes the subject. He says “well we still need the painting”
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Sam nods like he’s trying to make himself accept something, and picks up his phone miserably and dials Sarah. He can see that Dean won’t talk about this anymore. He looks so defeated and the way he just does what Dean tells him to do even though he clearly doesn’t want to- it’s like he’s accepting a punishment.
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He sounds fake and strained on the phone and he looks miserable and Dean is rolling his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, playing at nonchalance. Probably deep in denial even though really, he knows, or he wouldn’t have changed the subject.
-how else was I supposed to interpret this? If Sam’s issue is actually that he doesn’t want Sarah to get hurt and he can’t go through that again, which is what he has a very easy time telling her not thirty minutes later, why would he act like that with Dean instead of just saying it? Why would he phrase it like his issue is mostly not about Jessica at all? Why would Dean have a realization and then behave so defensively? Am I stupid? What the actual fuck is the normal reading of this scene?
-Sam tells Sarah he likes her. It’s like Sam has agreed to play his part and be into Sarah, like that’s the story they’re going with. We know Sam is a smooth liar and he’s good at getting people to trust him to the point of being manipulative if he has to, although his intentions are good.
-When he and Sarah get trapped in the house, Sam calls out for Dean and asks him not to go anywhere yet
-They’re trying to figure out how to burn the little girl’s remains and Sarah says she used to auction antique dolls (so she knows they have real hair). Sam says “that’s fascinating Sarah but important right now?” the SASS
-Sam doesn’t kiss her. Then he goes outside, where Dean is waiting for him, turns around, and kisses her where Dean can see them.
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averyangrypossum · 2 months
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Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the
Flowerbroadcast AU!
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Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.
The full-body one
And the one with both Vox and her
And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.
Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.
Was this relationship healthy?
NO!
Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?
Yeah.
But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,
“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.
So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.
Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.
1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.
2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.
3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.
Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.
A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!
Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!
Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!
Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?
Cuz it really doesn’t matter!
This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.
Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤
But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.
Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!
Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~
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thesightstoshowyou · 7 months
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Au Courant
- Part 2 -
(Read Part 1 here)
Asa Emory x AFAB Reader
Summary: The night of your weekly support group doesn’t go as planned either.
Warnings: Soulmate AU, angst, violence, attempted mugging, mention of minor character death, manipulation, mentions of stalking.
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~~
Chilly evening wind gusts, crispy leaves rustling around your feet as you walk. The breeze stirs up the scent of decaying foliage and rotting trash from a nearby dumpster. Wrinkling your nose, you shrug further into your jacket, wishing you’d worn another layer. The quick tap, tap of your shoes echoes off brick as you pick up your pace.
Ahead lies your destination: An unassuming little church, brick facade freshly power-washed and cleaner than the surrounding buildings. The light above the door shines bright in the gloom, illuminating various fliers taped to glass.
‘One is Enough: Support group for former and non-Pairs. Tuesdays at 6pm,’ one such paper reads. You purse your lips as you heave the door open, still embarrassed to be attending these meetings at all.
It has been almost two months since that day at the grocery store. You thought, maybe after a little time had passed the ache would lesson, but it’s just as sharp, just as crushing as it was when he’d left you in that parking lot.
You’d gone back several times since then. Waiting in your car, eyes trained on the door, you prayed he would show up. If you could just talk to him, just for a few minutes, maybe he would—
Shaking your head, you force yourself to stop spiraling. Replaying these scenarios in your head isn’t healthy. They only make you feel worse. He hasn’t returned to the grocery store. You won’t see him again. You must accept this.
You just wish you knew his name, at least.
Descending the stairs to the right of the door brings you to the basement. A few florescent lights flicker at the far end of the room, illuminating the circle of plastic folding chairs. Nearby sits a little table, customary carafe of hot water and assorted tea and instant coffee packets littering its surface.
Christ, it’s fucking bleak.
You sit quietly and listen, little paper cup of earl gray growing cold in your hands. It’s a full house tonight; many faces you’ve seen before. They mostly talk of loss, of soulmates that passed away too soon. Some speak of isolation, of never finding their other half.
None, however, had a soulmate reject them.
You decline to speak when asked to share your story. You can’t talk about it, not yet. It’s too fresh, and the mortification of having to disclose the fact that not even your soulmate wants you is something you can’t bare to say aloud. Better they think he died.
It kind of feels like he had, anyway.
Meeting adjourned, you stand and make your way back to the stairs, tossing your full paper cup in the trash as you go. You’re out the door and hiking your jacket up around your shoulders when you hear your name called behind you.
Turning, you find Alan, one of the group leaders hurrying out the door after you. His soulmate died a few years ago, poor guy. He beams when you meet his gaze and gives an awkward half wave as he catches up to you.
“Hey, uh, thanks for coming tonight.”
Weird. “Yeah, it’s…um, nice to be with people that get it, you know,” you comment, forcing a wan smile to your face. Alan nods, glances at his feet, back to your face. He sucks in a breath before he speaks.
Oh no. No, no, no, no—
“Um, hey I was…I mean, if you’re feeling up to it, would you, uh, like to…to get some coffee sometime?” You bite the inside of your cheek and muster every ounce of willpower to keep from grimacing.
He’s nice, really, but it’s just too soon. God, you’re never going to be able to come back here, are you?
“Oh! Oh, goodness, that’s…that’s really kind of you, Alan, but I’m not…not sure I’m ready. Yet.” You add the last word to soften the blow. Would you ever be ready? You’re not sure it’s even possible.
Alan smiles gently, warm understanding all over his face. You hope your expression is passive. “Hey, I totally get it. Maybe another time.” He moves to head back inside, then quickly spins around again to add, “Please don’t let this stop you from coming. We’re good, really, okay?”
You fake a grin and nod, hastily turning away so he can’t talk to you anymore. Shit, there goes that group. There have to be others, right?
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you bow your head against the frigid breeze as you hurry back to your car, mood now as sour as the weather. Why did he have to go and ruin this for you—
“Hey.” You startle when a voice speaks directly into your ear. Whipping around you find a young man inches away from you. You hadn’t heard him approach over the blasting wind.
You try to back away but he grasps your arm tightly. “Money. Now. Don’t make a scene.” Your stomach plummets when he produces a knife from his pocket, streetlights glinting off the blade.
You stammer, “I-I don’t have—
“Shut up. Give me what you have.” Blood rushing in your ears, hands shaking, you nod, wondering what the hell you’re going to give him. Everything is in your car. Maybe he wants your keys…?
Behind you, quick footsteps approach. The young man balks, releases you, backs away. Hurriedly, you stumble backward, bumping into whoever had interrupted. Strong hands grip your upper arms, steadying you.
Glancing over your shoulder, your mouth falls open in shock. It’s him. The man from the grocery store.
Your soulmate.
He wears that same cold expression he had at the supermarket. He’s not looking at you though, his dark gaze instead trained on the would-be thief.
He releases you just as the young robber attempts makes his escape. You watch in stunned silence as your soulmate pursues, powerful legs giving him a surprising burst of speed. The thief darts down an alley, the man hot on his heels.
Now, silence, save for your frantic breathing. Your wide eyes are glued to where you watched them disappear, your heart throwing itself wildly against your ribs. What if he gets hurt, or worse? What should you do?
The wind blusters, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You’re about to call for help when a dark figure emerges from the alley. The air leaves your lungs in a rush of relief, your trembling hand gripping the front of your coat. He’s okay!
And he’s walking right toward you.
You swallow thickly, your heart now hammering for a different reason. What will you say? How will he respond? Are you about to get your heart broken again?
Wait, what the hell is he even doing here?
“Are you alright?” You blink and dazedly look up into his eyes. They look black in the darkness, glittering in the light of the street lamps just as the knife had.
“I…yeah, I think so. T-Thank you.” Your voice quivers as you speak and you realize you’re trembling from head to toe. Is it from fear or the chill air?
“I lost him,” the man laments, motioning to the alley. You nod, amazed he even went after him in the first place.
“Should…do I need to call the cops or something?” You hate that you sound so helpless in front of him.
“Do you remember what he looks like?”
You pause, realizing you can’t even recall what clothes he’d been wearing. Timidly, you shake your head. The man shrugs.
“Not much they can do then.” You nod, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. The urge to reach out and touch him is almost too great to resist. He watches you so intently, keen eyes trained on every shift of expression, every movement of your nervous hands.
What is he thinking, you wonder? Is this it? Will he leave now, for good?
Instead, he surprises you. “Let me walk you to your car.” You can’t suppress the hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
Your heart stutters when his warm palm finds your lower back. He turns and guides you down the street toward your vehicle. His body is warm too, comfortingly so. You hope it’s not too obvious when you lessen the gap between you, your arm brushing his as you move.
You walk in silence for a few beats, gathering the courage to say what’s been on your mind for weeks. Clearing your throat, you steel yourself.
“Why did—
“I panicked,” he interrupts. Taken aback, you glance up at him. He offers you a wry smirk. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
You shake your head, baffled. “Does anyone?” you ask. A quick breath leaves him, the barest hint of a laugh.
“I suppose not.”
“And…what are you doing here?”
“I just happened to drive by, as crazy as it sounds. I saw you walking and knew I had to turn around.” His words make you look down to your shoes, heat spreading across your cheeks. Fate had intervened again, it seems.
All too soon, you reach the parking lot. Coming to a stop next to your car, you turn to face him. His lips press into a line and you can almost see him thinking, considering. Your hands wring anxiously.
“My life is…complicated,” he says finally. His words are measured and there’s something there just under the surface, some urgent need for you to understand.
“I don’t care,” you reply instantly, taking a step closer to him. It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling you in. “I don’t. I just want to be a part of it.”
This close, you can see the muscles in his jaw flex. He breathes in deeply, his exhale a heavy sigh. “My name is Asa,” he says finally.
You smile so wide your face hurts.
**
Asa watches the taillights of your car until they disappear around a corner. Only then does he allow a victorious smirk to cross his face. He will never tire of the satisfaction of success.
The Collector turns on his heel and strides back down the street. One more task to complete before the night is over.
Everything had gone optimally. The druggie had played his part of “thief” perfectly, thanks to the cash Asa had given him a few hours prior. Snapping his neck in the alley had been so easy. Heaving his dying body into the dumpster had been less simple, but still manageable.
What he said to you was a different matter. Telling you the truth was difficult, much harder than he previously anticipated. Indeed, he had panicked when you’d run straight into his arms, or panicked as much as someone like him could. Meeting his soulmate had not been in his plans. Asa doubted such a thing even existed for him in the first place, and that was preferable.
You were a liability. Getting caught was not an option. The last thing Asa needed was you stumbling into his carefully curated life and spilling marina all over the place. So, he’d left.
But, you would not leave his mind. Your meeting had awoken something deep inside him, some need. The obnoxious ache gnawing away at his gut grew tiresome. As he followed you home from the grocery store parking lot, watched you leave from work to attend your silly support group, as he learned your schedule and your habits from afar, his thoughts had drifted to the potential.
A partner, even more so a soulmate would aid with his disguise: Dr. Asa Emory, entomologist, professor, and now one half of a loving Pair. It’s the epitome of “normal.” Perhaps having you around would also quell the incessant nagging of his coworkers. This is not necessary, of course, but it would be welcome none the less.
You saw him, as well. When you’d collided, you looked into his eyes and caught a glimpse of what he kept so well hidden from everyone else. Asa had seen it on your face, the fear, the understanding. And, still, you chased after him. You wanted this, wanted him. Maybe you could want the Collector too.
Could you learn to understand?
Faking tonight’s emotions, the nerves, the story he fed you about “just driving by” shouldn’t have been so simple, but you’d accepted everything without question. Your gullibility is ideal. Everything about you seems to work in his favor. Is this luck? Or is this what it is like to be a Pair?
Time will tell.
Now, Asa turns his attention to the church door. He only has to wait a few minutes before it swings open. A man exits, papers clutched under his arm. The light above the door illuminates his face when he turns to lock up. It’s him, the one who asked you out earlier this evening.
Peering around the corner, Asa watches the man adjust his coat before heading off down the street. After a slow count to ten, Asa follows, stalking silently.
One more task tonight; a lesson to be taught, a price to be paid in blood.
You belong to the Collector, and the Collector does not share.
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sleepingdeath-light · 5 months
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relationship hcs ; astarion
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requested by ; mod / self indulgent
fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; astarion ancunin
outline ; “dating headcanons for astarion”
note ; i have never played this game and am going completely off of the clips and guide videos i’ve been watching pretty much nonstop for the past week so apologies if my characterisation is at all shaky in this piece
warning(s) ; brief references to canon torture, self worth struggles, and other related angst — but otherwise mostly fluff!
when it comes to being in a relationship with you — a real relationship, that is, and not the act he was putting on to try and manipulate you at the start of your journey as a group — astarion is, for lack of a better analogy, very much so a fish out of water
and, thankfully, that’s not something he’s ashamed or scared to admit to you, so the early days of your relationship are filled with a lot of trial and error as you navigate your new dynamic and he adjusts to being permitted to make his own decisions and set his own boundaries
some things definitely come easier than others for him — namely verbal shows of affection like using pet names for you or being playful or flirty whenever you’re together; things that are more instinct than anything else, but no less genuine in their use
as one might expect, astarion does also use quite the variety of pet names for you — to the extent that your friends have a running joke about him not actually knowing what your real name is (which he always refutes with about as much sass as one might expect) — with his main terms of endearment being ones that he settled into using early on like ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’ (or ‘handsome’ if that is your preferred term), ‘my dear’, and, when he’s being a bit of a tease, ‘my little treat’
actual physical intimacy, however, is a much different story given his rather unfortunate history with his body and how he was forced to use it by his tormentor
of course he knows that you’re different, that you’re not like cazador or his ilk, but that doesn’t make those old habits any easier to break, nor two hundred years of trauma easier to shake from his mind — love and patience can only go so far, after all, and those memories and their effects on him won’t just vanish overnight
so, naturally, that means that adjusting to physical touch unrelated to sex is a very slow process for him — though he’s thankful to have you there with him throughout
there are a few things that he learns he really quite enjoys and makes that abundantly clear to you when you’re together: kisses, gentle touches to the hand, and hugs, mainly
oh and his kisses are truly marvellous once you help him accept intimacy unconnected to sex — they’re soft and sweet but no less passionate for it, starting off with a brief peck before he turns his head and gently (oh so gently) grasps your chin or cheek or neck and pulls you closer to him, almost as if you’re melting into each other as the kiss either deepens or makes way for a string of chaste pecks before you eventually pull apart for whatever reason
he also always makes sure to sooth any places he’s bitten with some apologetic kisses once he’s had his fill (as well as plenty of compliments on your person and about your blood)
his other favourite places to kiss you are either on your hands or wrists (the gentleman that he is): the insides of your wrists, the tips of your fingers, each of your knuckles in sequence, the backs of your hands, your palms when you cup his face in your hands — truly the list is endless and he delights in finding new ways to fluster you and make you smile
shit talking and gossipping amongst yourselves is extremely common and astarion has mastered the art of saying just the right thing about someone he doesn’t like just loud enough for you to hear at the perfect time to make you laugh (or try your best to cover said laugh if you’re currently talking to the subject of said shit talking)
when it comes to sleeping arrangements, astarion just loves being held (but not too tightly so he still has the freedom to get up and walk away for whatever reason if he needs to), but the specifics of the position don’t really matter to him — he’s just as happy to have you laying on his chest, or him on yours if you’re larger than him, as he is to cuddle you on his side (though he does secretly prefer to either be the little spoon or to have his face level with your chest when you’re both on your sides as it makes him feel safer, though it will take him a long time to ever even consider admitting to that)
he is naturally very protective of you and has been known to pull a dagger on anyone he deems as a threat to you — which is very beneficial in combat scenarios or situations where you are actually at risk, but a bit inconvenient when you’re trying not to draw any attention to yourselves and the issue is just some drunk that can’t keep quiet (still not good and something that should be called out, but perhaps not worth having to leave the town you just got to early as to avoid getting charged with yet another crime)
he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself whenever you’re unwell for whatever reason (especially if it’s something a healer can’t contend with) because it’s been centuries since he’s experienced any sort of illness so he can’t even really empathise with you about your situation — he tries his best, of course, but it’s easy to tell that he’s really out of his depth
no matter how long the two of you have been together, astarion still melts whenever you ask his permission to do the smallest of things (like asking if you can kiss him or hold his hand, for example) — but he melts even more when you accept when he declines for whatever reason becaus the novelty of being respected and loved without expectation or conditions never really wears off for him and he appreciates it all just as much as he did the first time
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Trying Something New  - A Doctor!Joel x PharmaRep! Reader Fic
Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 1: Trying something New.
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NSFW 18+ minors DNI. Warnings: This is mostly just porn, very little plot, Joel is mean, Manipulative!Joel, Mean!Joel, fingering, edging, smut, praise kink, dom!Joel, dark!Joel, reader insert, public sex/voyuerism, dirty talk, Joel’s mouth, Joel is a sleaze bag, transactional sex (implied), sex work (implied), power dynamic, coercion (if you squint). Let me know if I missed anything! No Reader description, no use of Y/N.
You chew on your bottom lip as you wait outside the conference hall. Your stomach in knots as you tap your foot impatiently against the abstract carpeting that looks like a piñata vomited into the ocean. Swirling vortexes of confetti are baked into the threadbare carpet in hues of orange, pink, and yellow; like rancid sprinkles on a stale sheet cake. 
Your head snaps up as the rumbling baritone of Doctor Miller’s voice, bracketed by a gruff chuckle, catches your attention. He strides through the double doors, hair slicked back, dark glasses atop his brow, and patchy facial hair trimmed and purposeful. 
His white dress shirt is open at the collar, way too many buttons undone to be justifiable at the conference. But this man is a legend on the Pharma circuit, so no-one dares challenge his laid-back approach to fashion. Tight black slacks fall over his toned legs and his dress shoes gleam like polished black mirrors. 
Fuck he’s even hotter up close.
You almost forget to speak up as you watch him glide past you, other, less important, doctors trailing after him like lost puppies. Desperate for some of the Miller charm to rub off on them too. 
“Excuse me, Doctor Miller?” 
He stops dead in his tracks, one of the other doctors almost crashing into him at the abrupt halt. He turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised, his lips pursed into a hard line as he unashamedly looks you up and down. He lingers over your exposed cleavage, and you try not to smile too obviously at that. 
I knew this dress would work. 
You think to yourself as you feel vindication at spending two hours planning your hair, make-up, and outfit this morning. It was worth losing those few hours of precious sleep over. 
“Hey there,” He drawls, his dark eyes raking over you, slower this time, as he addresses his entourage, “I’ll see you gentlemen later, golf in the morning yeah?” 
The groupies nod eagerly in unison, like they wouldn’t miss it for anything. It’s almost pathetic, until you realise what you’re about to do is much, much worse. 
You’re drowning in debt from college, your hopes and dreams crushed by an oversaturated job market in journalism, rent is due, and you’re behind on your sales quota. You’re running out of options, fast. So, trying something new had seemed like your only option when you booked into this conference weeks ago.
“What can I do for you sweetheart?” Joel’s dulcet southern drawl snaps you out of your thought spiral and you look up to see an amused smirk painted across his plush lips. His cheeks dimple and the rush of arousal that floods straight to your core is almost embarrassing. 
“I-, I know this is bold, but could I buy you a drink?” 
He pauses for a moment, and your heart sinks as the prospect of rejection hangs over you like a guillotine. Ready to cleave your last-ditch attempt at evading eviction in twain. Then the corner of his mouth twitches up and his eyes crease at the corner as he shrugs his broad shoulders. 
“I think it would be mighty crass of me to accept such an offer, how about I buy you a drink?”  
“Are you sure? I’m happy to-!” 
One of his broad fingers presses firmly against your lips and every shred of feminism and self-respect leaves your body as his rough skin catches on your own. It’s like the pad of his finger is searing your skin, branding you with his mere touch. 
“I won’t take no for an answer. Let’s go.” 
He drops his hand only to move to your side, his broad palm splayed across the small of your back. It’s intimate, disarming, and suddenly you feel like you have lost all control of the situation. Your lips tingle at the ghost presence of his finger on your lips. 
Joel guides you through the hotel lobby and into the bar, settling on a booth in a dingy little corner of the room. You slide into the booth, expecting him to take the seat opposite you, but he follows you, crowding you in towards the curve of the U-shaped seating. 
Your heart all but bursts out of your chest when you feel the rough, hot press of his hand on your leg. He’s not even trying to hide the way he digs into the meat of your thigh, riding the hem of your dress up with the heel of his palm. You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache that pulsates through your cunt.
“Doctor Miller-!” 
“Joel. Call me Joel sweetheart.” 
His voice is low in your ear, and you can smell his expensive cologne as his lips brush the corner of your jaw, his breath fanning against your skin as he hails a waiter with his other hand. The bridge of his glasses presses against your cheek and you can’t help but pine at the way he is too eager to even take them off. 
“Joel, what are you doing?” 
“What does it look like sweetheart? I’m giving you exactly what you came here for, a quick fuck in return for me prescribing those nasty little pills of yours right?” 
Your cheeks flush with heat and your ears burn as you feel the shame of being caught out so easily. You want to protest, deny the accusation that pours into your ears, soaking into your bones with shame and arousal. But you can’t.  
“I’ve never done this before, sales are down, rent’s due. I needed to try something new.” 
You plead as you watch the waiter get closer, his smile bright as he looks at the two of you with a glimmer in his eye. Joel’s broad hand pushes further up your leg and you feel a thick finger ghost the lace of your panties and you gasp. Joel nips your earlobe painfully and you stifle the noise threatening to spill from your lips at the pain and tumbling pleasure that follows it as his tongue kitten licks against the sore skin. 
“Shh, keep that dirty little mouth shut, don’t want him seeing what ‘m doing sweetheart. Can you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” 
Your lip quivers as he grazes his knuckle against the already drenched material of your thong. You should be embarrassed, maybe deep down you are, but the white-hot drip of arousal down your spine takes priority as you nod silently. 
“Words sweetheart, come on, he’s almost here, ‘f he catches us I’m out of here.” 
“Yes Joel,” You whimper, legs trembling as he eases a finger under the fabric, pulling it to the side as he growls in your ear at the way your slick paints his thumb as it glides through your obscenely wet folds, “I’ll be good, keep my mouth shut.”
“Good girl.” 
Those two words make your brain short circuit. Your legs spread of their own accord as you feel him smile into your skin, his strong nose pressed into your hairline before he turns just in time to address the waiter. You can barely breathe as a thick finger teases at your entrance. 
“Hey there, what can I get for you both?” His nasal twang barely registering as you focus on the sound of your own ragged heartbeat roaring in your ears. 
“I’ll take a double of Lagavulin sixteen, neat.” Joel says with a syrupy sweetness that makes you want to roll your eyes. But you hold firm, smiling sweetly at the waiter as you order.
“Same for me.” 
“Coming right up.” The waiter nods as he turns on his heel, seemingly oblivious to the depravity unfolding just below the table edge. 
“Good taste in scotch.” Joel grumbles almost absently as he buries his face in your neck once more. His lips catch on your skin as he mouths a trail of kisses up to your ear. It’s excruciatingly slow, and your pussy clenches in anticipation as you silently beg him to just get on with it. 
The waiter returns with your drinks, but they’re forgotten as soon as they’re set down as Joel slides a thick finger inside you. Your eyes roll back as he stretches your tight cunt out deliciously. He hooks his finger up against your g-spot with precision and he hums in your ear as he feels you clench around him. 
“So wet. So desperate.” 
His voice vibrates through your jaw as his facial hair burns against your skin, you’re so fucked out you wouldn’t care if he ripped you off the seat and fucked you over the table. You buck your hips to meet his thick finger and he chuckles against the shell of your ear. 
“Being such a good little slut for me. Going to fuck you so dumb, fill up this tight little cunt with my fat cock until you’re leaking out around it. You want that sweetheart?” 
“Yes, I want it, want it so bad, Joel.” You whimper as his thumb swipes lazily against your clit. You’re so close, your pussy flutters around his finger as he picks up the pace. Your eyes close as your spine crackles with electricity, flooding through your core as you feel the white-hot wave of pleasure crest—
Joel pulls his finger out of you harshly, knocking back his whiskey in one with his other hand before sliding out of the booth without so much as a look in your direction. You’re reeling as you look up at the broad span of his shoulders as he throws a few bills on the table along with a keycard. You clench around nothing, feeling painfully empty as you suppress a whine that tickles up your throat. 
“Meet me upstairs in twenty minutes, and maybe you’ll get to come.” 
Your chest heaves as you snap your legs shut, slick coats your thighs and drenches your ruined panties. You watch him as he stops at another table and your eyes go wide with shock. Your boss Chris, an utter sleaze-ball of a human is standing up to greet Joel. Your blood runs cold, and you swallow around the lump in your throat as both men turn to look at you. 
I’m so fucked. 
You think as a few words are said before Joel extends his hand to him and you watch in mortified horror as he shakes hands with the one that was only moments ago buried inside your cunt. They part ways and you sit there, unable to move as Joel reaches the elevator at the other end of the bar. 
Your boss flashes you an uncharacteristically friendly smile and gives you a double thumbs up. Your eyes return to the elevator to see Joel’s eyes locked on you. You notice his middle finger buried to the knuckle between his plush lips as his cheeks hollow. He’s sucking himself clean of your arousal and you groan softly to yourself as your desperately empty pussy clenches at the sight. He winks as the elevator door closes and you slump back against the seat with a heavy exhale. 
You wait fifteen minutes, checking the time on your watch every few seconds, until you can’t wait any longer. You finish your drink and snatch up the keycard. Your heels click loudly on the wood flooring and before you can reach the elevator you hear your boss call out your name. You turn slowly, anxiety bubbling up in your throat as you wait for that guillotine of shame and regret to fall. 
“Not sure what you did, but Doctor Miller just agreed on a partnership deal with us. You’re getting a raise and a bonus honey, keep up the good work!” 
Your smile is tight as you try and process the words coming out of his mouth. You lick your lips as you nod slowly, your head spinning and you look down at the keycard, then back up to your boss.
“Thank you, Chris. I’ll do you proud.” 
You stumble into the elevator with an elated giggle spilling out of your mouth. You don’t know what the hell was waiting for you upstairs, but you do know that whatever it is, it’ll be worth it. 
Tag List: @yvonneeeee @notsosecretspy @jadealicious06 @famouslyanonymous @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi @pimosworld @brittmb115 @bitchwitch1981 @cool-iguana @beefrobeefcal @lucyeyelesbarrow @anoverwhelmingdin @beskarandblasters @wannab-urs @pastelnap @patti7dc @gasolinerainbowpuddles @jksprincess10 @gracieispunk @toxicanonymity @chloeangelic
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yanderes-galore · 2 months
Note
Sans from Undertale romantic concept, please?
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Combined these two as my concepts tend to default to human darlings. Not proofread!
Yandere Alphabet For Sans Here
Undertale Masterlist For Other Content
Yandere! Sans The Skeleton Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Human Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Slight clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Self-Aware Sans, Kidnapping mentioned, Violence mentioned, Sans is slowly going insane, Forced/Dubious relationship.
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Honestly, Sans is probably one of the most laid-back yanderes.
He's naturally lazy as is, which probably carries into his obsession.
I combined these two requests because I naturally default to a human darling when I write.
He would make a terrifying yet laid-back yandere due to the knowledge he holds.
Maybe he's even known you from other timelines, similar to other Sans AUs I've done.
Which may be an idea that feeds into his obsession.
Similar to canon Undertale Sans, I feel as a yandere he would be more than meets the eye.
To you he just seems like a laid-back protective skeleton that you naturally see around all the time.
He seems nice to be around and you just don't suspect anything weird.
Yet you have no idea how much he knows about you...
You have no clue about his powers, or how much he cares about you.
This probably isn't even the first time you two have met, but you don't know that, you wouldn't even understand it if he told you.
Truthfully, Sans has met you and fallen for you many times.
It's just after every reset... you never seem to remember fully.
That's one way to work for Sans, it works betters with a monster darling.
However, for a human darling you could view it like this.
Maybe you are a human with Frisk or even replace Frisk who thinks no one else knows about the resets.
Soon you'll find out that's untrue once Sans stops pretending he doesn't.
In fact, an even better idea is you keep resetting the timeline to try and fix Sans' obsession with you.
Soon you'll have to eventually tire out, right?
His obsession isn't going to go away... it'll just persist through timelines.
Just your luck.
But, enough of that, how is he as a yandere?
As said before, usually very docile at first.
He would treat you like any other human he's seen, even if it's all just an act.
Sans would be a very "casual" stalker.
He mostly stays out of sight due to his teleportation, but when he's caught he easily plays it off.
Oh, he was just check in on you.
He's just being a kind friend.
His more sinister behavior is unbelievable unless you actually see it.
For example, you do a Genocide Run.
You'd think he hates you after that, maybe somewhere in him he does, yet he can't seem to let this obsession go.
Definitely just follows you around it plays it off for the most part.
But I do think there's times he does get jealous to the point he feels he needs to step in.
Oh, is he interrupting something? Sorry!
Sans is around you all the time.
He is even capable of subtle threats towards other monsters, or maybe even you if you push him.
He is capable of using his powers, but would rather not resort to violence if he doesn't have to.
He prefers not to be like Chara.
I did say in other concepts that Sans would kidnap.
However I feel it would be a last ditch effort.
You'd have to make him desperate enough to do it as he is so laid-back.
Laid-back does not mean harmless.
Sans is capable of some heinous things, he just has self-control.
He wants you to have freedoms, unless you're going to hurt him in some way.
He may even pretend he's no longer madly in love with you after a reset to keep you around longer.
I just think the idea of Sans knowing more than he lets on like in canon is a fun idea to toy with when speaking about his obsession.
Truthfully, you are both the only ones aware of your resets.
So why bother resetting anymore?
No matter what you do... in some way Sans will love you.
So why not accept him?
He's sure he'll find some way to keep you in one timeline beside him.
After all, you drive him insane with every reset.
He doesn't understand what you want.
Sans loves you, he wants you...
One way or another he'll find a way to have you... even if it requires breaking that dreaded reset button or convincing you to stay with him willingly.
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actual-changeling · 2 months
Note
Hey, about your meta on how Aziraphale emotionally manipulated Crowley in the final 15: You explained how Aziraphale didn't defend his position to Crowley after he said "I think I understand it a lot better than you do" because he knows he's in the wrong.
Sorry if you've already answered this somewhere, but can you elaborate? Theories aside, I've always interpreted Aziraphale in the final 15 as someone who genuinely thinks they're doing the right thing.
If Aziraphale knows he's in the wrong, why would he go to Heaven in the first place? What would his motivation be? And what made you think he's aware?
Thank you!
A good question!
It's a central issue when it comes to Aziraphale because a big struggle of his is that he can belief two technically incompatible things at once.
There is always his initial belief, e.g. heaven is fundamentally good and angels cannot do the wrong thing, but then he is confronted by an experience he cannot ignore that shows him the opposite, e.g. God and heaven being fine with killing Job's children for a bet with Satan.
Now, he could take those two beliefs and realize what Crowley (and most demons) probably realized at some point: heaven lied to them and is not infallible, so when reality proves to be different than what they were taught, they can make up their own mind—there are more options than what they were presented with.
However, doing so would require Aziraphale to do several things.
become self-aware enough to realize that he made wrong choices
accept that he can still make wrong choices and that being an angel gives him no moral superiority
understand that "angel" and "demon" as categories are fundamentally meaning- and useless
move away from seeing heaven as the one true authority and build his own moral compass
find an identity for himself that is completely separate from heaven, angels, and demons
learn how to have healthy relationships without replicating the dynamic he had with heaven
Crowley was forced to learn all of this in quick succession before, during, and after his fall, and he's been in a good place for millennia at this point
Aziraphale, on the other hand, was never actually confronted with a situation that would explicitly force him to change his thoughts and behaviours. He got comfortable on earth, was mostly left alone by heaven, could do what he want, and had Crowley around—who, no matter what he did, always eventually came back to him.
Aziraphale benefited from Crowley's severe abandonment trauma and fears and decided that he does not have to make himself uncomfortable because Crowley will do it for him. All of the points I have listed above would vastly improve his relationship with Crowley and with himself, but they would mean making himself uncomfortable.
It would mean having to work through feelings of shame, self-hatred and guilt, learning how to actually listen to Crowley and treat him like an equal, understanding and accepting that he has hurt not just Crowley but probably also many humans throughout the centuries (e.g. the entire situation with Elspeth and Morag).
In short, it's a never ending journey that will make you feel really bad at times but is ultimately necessary to have healthy relationships and a content life.
Aziraphale KNOWS all of this, otherwise he would be at peace being exactly like the Archangels are. He wouldn't even TRY to convince Crowley that his morals are wrong and his own correct because why try to convince someone of something you are 100% sure of?
We never see any of the other angels and demons having those morality discussions because they are at peace with who and what they are. On top of that, it's not like Aziraphale does not notice when he hurts Crowley or makes him intentionally upset—he does notice, and he does not like it.
BUT, and there is, unfortunately, a 'but', he prioritizes his personal comfort over Crowley's wants, needs, and emotions.
For example, he coerces him into giving him the Bentley and leaves him alone with Gabriel, two things that deeply distress him. When Crowley does not do what he wants, he threatens to withhold his presence/affection and punishes him with rejection, which is him abusing Crowley's trauma for his own comfort. Any moral arguments are not about Aziraphale making a realization, they're him trying to come up with EXCUSES so he can justify continuing to think/do x-thing even though reality is telling him that he's wrong; Edinburgh is a great example for that.
In the final fifteen, we basically see how far Aziraphale is willing to go to protect his own comfort. I made a rough little list of his initial belief, the reality he gets confronted with, and the conclusion he comes to/decides on:
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However, Aziraphale has finally reached the one boundary Crowley will never be willing to cross, not for him, not for anyone else. He will not go back to heaven and he sure as fuck has zero desire to be an angel again. Aziraphale could pull out whatever manipulation tactics he wants (and he does) but Crowley will not change his minds and is rightfully upset that Aziraphale is asking that of him.
So where does that leave us?
Belief 1: Returning to heaven and taking that position means he will be in charge and can change heaven so it is 100% good the way it is supposed to be. It's the right thing to do as a Good Angel.
Belief 2/Reality: He knows heaven is cruel. He knows there was a revolution with thousands of angels trying to change heaven and they failed. He knows that demons are not inherently evil and that angels are not inherently good. He knows that Crowley wants to save the world, that he makes choices are are kind, that he saves people, that he cares—and he won't go back to heaven. He knows he does not want to be without Crowley.
If the Metatron had given them the time to properly, actually talk about it, I think Aziraphale would have come to the conclusion that Crowley is right about heaven and has been all along—but the Metatron was purposefully hurrying him along and so they didn't.
When Aziraphale panics like he did then, he (like many other people) stick with the belief(s) that feels safest, the one that is instinctual, the one that requires the least amount of thinking. For Aziraphale, that is do as heaven tells you, so that is what he argues for. He gets stuck in that corner and when Crowley rightfully sets boundaries, he panics even more because that hasn't happened before, Crowley always relented in the end.
So he panics more and more and more, says increasingly hurtful things and becomes more manipulative, which in turn makes Crowley more upset, and they spiral until Crowley reaches his breaking points and accepts that he is choosing heaven over him.
Again.
By the time we reach the "you don't understand what I'm offering you", Aziraphale is out of arguments. I mean, what's he going to say? No, you the demon who fell for trying to change heaven don't know better than me, the angel who never faced any punishment from heaven whatsoever?
He pushed his angelic superiority as far as it will go and resorts to what he always resorts to once he is out of arguments.
Rejection. Silent treatment. I will never talk to you again, we're not friends, it's over, you're at liberty to go, if you won't you won't, then there is nothing more to say.
The Metatron has planned the entire encounter very carefully, he intentionally does not give him time to think, urges him to talk to Crowley immediately, enters the bookshop immediately after Crowley leaves, keeps walking when Aziraphale tries to change his mind, enters the lift first with his hand above the button.
Don't allow him to think so he will do as he is told, and it works unsurprisingly well.
I hope that helped clear that up, he is definitely very. convoluted in his decision making at times.
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Note
Hi hi i hope im not lateee. Since you know chainsaw man and you're caught up in the manga, may i request makima with an F!reader? Im thinking of a scenario like makima controls everything except her s/o idk idk smth to do with that. Thankyouu and have a nice day!
Out of Her Control
Makima x She/Her Reader
A/N: I wasn’t sure where I should have gone with this one so it’s mostly snippets of before they got together and then ending with them as a couple. It’s mostly me trying to figure out how Makima would act if she had feelings for someone. I’m pretty sure everyone should know that something is off about Makima by now, but if you haven’t read the manga yet, probably skip for now just to be safe. Thanks for the request, hope you like it! Word Count: 3,564
Humans were just too easy to manipulate, to bend this way and that. More often than not, Makima could get what she wanted without using the full extent of her power, sometimes she didn’t even have to use it at all. And as much as she loved humans and their amusing little moral nuances and loyalties, it could be rather dull leading them on a leash, there was no challenge.
When Makima was informed of a few prospective team members applying to join her division of the Public Safety Commission, she scanned over their files and résumés as if paging through summaries of animals looking for their forever homes. She let out a disappointed hum, unsure if any of them were worth taking under her wing.
She would give them all a job, of course she would. Devil Hunters came and went as surely as the tides changed each day. They needed all the bodies they could get, but Makima definitely played favorites when it suited her.
Perhaps she’d get a clearer idea once they began their new profession, but she wasn’t holding her breath.
And for the most part, the new recruits were exactly as she imagined them to be, people pleasers, Makima pleasers, to be specific. Always doing as she asked without another thought in their heads. Reasonable people would say it was because of her senior standing among most Devil Hunters, but Makima knew better. If any other senior Devil Hunter sent one of their juniors off on a thinly veiled death march, they would not be half as successful in getting what they asked for.
“And that is how we will take down the devil in position of this sizable piece of the Gun Devil. Any questions? Concerns?” Makima asked with a overtly saccharine smile. She expected no resistance, but she always asked anyway, an illusion of choice. She inhaled to speak again, to dismiss the small group to what would likely be their last job, but an important one nonetheless.
But then a little ways across the table, a woman loosely raised her hand from where it had sat over crossed arms, without waiting to be acknowledged, she spoke,
“Miss Makima, I do have concerns. This plan will undoubtedly lead us all to an early grave.”
The rest of the table cast the woman dirty looks and grumbled under their shared breaths, judging the woman for not only questioning Makima’s plan, but even going as far to say that it would fail them so spectacularly. Makima subtly grinned.
“Ah, Miss…” Makima trailed off, she hadn’t bothered memorizing any of their names in the three weeks since they had arrived. If she had been anyone else, she might have been embarrassed by that now.
“(Y/n).” The woman supplied, her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows angled ever so slightly downward, conveying a mild annoyance that made Makima’s own eyes light up in response. No one ever looked at her with even the smallest hint of disapproval, wariness, sure, but never disapproval. Unless you maybe counted Kishibe, but he had been in the business forever so it was to be expected from him.
“(Y/n),” Makima tested the name on her tongue, “please do share what you mean.”
The other juniors in the room jumped in before (Y/n) could say a word, assuring Makima that her plan was perfectly acceptable and that they could handle everything just fine.
Makima raised her hand, motioning the group to quiet, which they did almost immediately. No different from her dogs at home, really.
“There is no need to become so defensive on my behalf, we are all working towards the same goal and have humanity’s best interests at heart. I would be remiss if I didn’t take the thoughts of others into account before possibly making a grave miscalculation. So that being said,” Makima’s eyes found (Y/n)’s again, “the floor is yours, (Y/n).”
“Thanks, anyway,” (Y/n) pushed her office chair away from the conference table and strode over to the city map projected on the wall near where Makima stood.
Her peers shot her questioning and displeased looks as she went. Makima stepped back to give her room, hands clasped behind her back, waiting, intrigued.
“This route makes no tactical sense,” (Y/n) pointed out, “It would bring too much attention to us if we were all grouped up like this. The devil would see us coming and with its Gun Devil enhanced power, it would wipe us out in a single attack. I strongly suggest…”
(Y/n) went on to mark three separate routes on the map and even went on to share the strengths of each individual in the room and who should be paired off and take which route.
“…Finally, if all goes smoothly, we should all converge near this point, and take care of the devil then,” (Y/n) looked over to Makima who’s face still wore a ghostly smile, “Of course I’m open to more discussion, but if you insist on your initial plan Miss Makima, then you can count me out.”
A few strangled sounds of disbelief littered the room, but Makima simply tilted her head to the side, eyes boring into (Y/n)‘s.
“You would quit?”
“Perhaps. Private Sector makes more money anyway. And despite my clear lack of popularity with my coworkers’ at present, I would rather them not die if it can be helped. What do you say?”
Makima chuckled at that, leaning into (Y/n)’s personal space. (Y/n) didn’t fluster nor back away, but she did raise an expectant eyebrow, a curious expression visible as she waited for Makima’s denial or approval of her idea.
She had Makima’s approval alright, in more ways than one.
“Very well,” Makima nodded, unblinking, “let’s give it a try.”
***
(Y/n) stared down bitterly at the graves long after the service had concluded. Then she heard a rumble roll across the sky accompanied by the rustling of grass and approaching footsteps. The dark shadow of an umbrella fell over her head and a long, black coat came into her periphery as the first drops of rain began to fall around them.
“Would it really have killed them to listen to me?” (Y/n) murmured without thinking.
“It certainly killed them not to listen.” Makima provided, tone neither one of mirth nor despair, simply apathetic. “For what it’s worth, I thought your plan was better. At least their sacrifices hadn’t been for nothing.”
“I suppose.” (Y/n) sighed wearily.
When the day of the mission had arrived, (Y/n)‘s stubborn peers acted on the original plan detailed by Makima. (Y/n) had linked up with some of the senior hunters from another unit and together they killed the devil and retrieved the fragment of the Gun Devil that it had coveted, but not before a good chunk of the city block had been destroyed. Several civilians as well as her peers littered the street crushed and mangled.
“The rain is getting stronger,” Makima noted, twisting the umbrella that hung over their heads, “I’d like to invite you to my home. I’ll make you something warm to eat and we can drink our sorrows away.” Allow me learn what makes you tick.
(Y/n) surprisingly shook her head, “I appreciate the offer Miss Makima, but I need time to reflect on my own I think.”
Makima’s lips parted, a honeyed insistence already on her tongue, but then she stopped herself, a small smile painting her lips instead.
“I understand. Perhaps another time then.”
“Sure. Well,” (Y/n) paused awkwardly, then flicked up the hood of her coat, “see you Monday.”
“Monday,” Makima confirmed.
She made a move to press her umbrella into (Y/n)’s hands, but she was waved off as soon as their hands touched, (Y/n) thanked her anyway but she had still denied the silent offer, order? Makima watched on as (Y/n) walked briskly out of the cemetery, a taxi already waiting for her to climb into it.
Makima watched the car roll off before starting to walk to her own. She could have easily persuaded (Y/n) to join her, but she found it much more compelling to let the chips fall where they may, for now at least. It was rather exciting.
***
Makima never used her power on (Y/n). A self-imposed rule. That didn’t mean she didn’t have little eyes and ears on her almost constantly. She enjoyed checking in on the unsuspecting Devil Hunter, watching what she did when she wasn’t working. It seemed silly, but Makima felt like she might have been falling for the young woman.
Perhaps it was an unhealthy amount of self-confidence provided by her constant stream of admirers, but she couldn’t have been more surprised when (Y/n) politely declined her proposition. It wasn’t obvious, the biggest hint of her bafflement being two blinks in rapid succession.
“I’m sorry Miss Makima, I just don’t think it would be appropriate for the workplace. Not to mention how dangerous this job is. It’s not a good idea to get too attached to anyone here. I learned that pretty quickly…”
Makima squeezed her hands behind her back, reminding herself that (Y/n)’s will, free from her own, was what drew her to her in the first place. Besides, who really knew what the future would hold for them.
“No need to apologize, I understand your concerns. However, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here.”
(Y/n) shook her head, a sympathetic smile on her face, “Don’t wait for me, Miss Makima, you do deserve to be happy with someone, but it probably isn’t going to be me.” Then she left Makima’s office, closing the door quietly behind her.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Makima leaned back in her chair, smiling to herself.
She was still committed to not using her influence, and she was confident that she wouldn’t need it. She’s seen many questionable human couples, if they could stumble into a courtship, she certainly could. She would just need to be patient and drop subtle reminders of her availability.
One might argue how Makima studied (Y/n) so thoroughly to know exactly what to say and do to get her heart pounding would be just another form of manipulation, but Makima would say that this way took a lot of time and effort and was much more heartfelt. In fact, as the months stretched on and the longer it took to win (Y/n)’s favor, the more Makima felt for her.
It had been a particularly hard day for (Y/n) when she had gone to Makima asking if she wanted to go out for drinks. She had grown out of the rookie position by simply surviving a few months and had been assigned a couple juniors of her own to look after. They had went as quickly as they had came, but it still weighed on her.
Makima made sure not to seem too eager. She would be a shoulder to lean on, but anything (Y/n) wanted, she could have it if she went for it. Truly not knowing where the night would go, excited her.
Makima ushered (Y/n) into her car and took her to a restaurant she had remembered her mentioning in passing as one of her favorites. They got a cozy little booth in the corner. The ordered their meals and drinks and quietly conversed, letting the warmth of the room and the gentle clinks of of cups and chopsticks against ceramic.
It was the most loose Makima had witnessed (Y/n), she had a couple drinks, but she wasn’t drunk by any means. Maybe a little tipsy at most, but her smile looked more genuine than it ever did at work, and she sounded so relaxed, she even laughed! But then she began hiding yawns behind her hand and final calls could be heard from the bar. It was getting late.
Makima hated the thought of having to drive (Y/n) home. She never wanted to let her go for even a moment, but that wasn’t her choice to make. How irksome it was to play by the rules of a game she had created. A game that only she was aware she was playing.
Makima scooped up the check an paid for everything before (Y/n) could even think about reaching into her coat pocket.
“Hey, I’m the one who invited you out. What do I owe you?” (Y/n) asked, cracking open her wallet.
Makima reached over the table and put her hand on (Y/n)’s to stop the motion.
“You owe nothing. It’s been difficult for you these last few weeks.”
Makima noticed a look of gentle longing, but it left as quickly as it came when another yawn passed (Y/n)’s lips.
“Let’s get you home.”
Makima ushered (Y/n) outside and into the passenger seat of her sleek black car before maneuvering around to get in herself. The ride was quiet save for the ac blowing a constant stream of warm air to offset the chill of the night. When Makima parked the car outside of (Y/n)’s apartment complex, she turned to smile at her and waited for her to unbuckle her seatbelt, but instead she just sat there, looking pensive.
“What is on your mind, (Y/n)?” She asked, inching her hand over the center console while she debated if it would be a good idea to touch her or not.
(Y/n) leaded back against the car door, halting the slow journey Makima’s hand had been making. (Y/n) bit her inner cheek and looked out upon the streetlights casting the sidewalk in a yellowish glow.
“I think I’m failing for you.”
Makima’s eyes lit up with an excited gleam, but still she left the decision of what would happen next up to (Y/n).
“What will you do about it?”
(Y/n) leaned over the center console, her hand resting atop Makima’s. She leaned in further still until her lips found Makima’s. It took a lot of control on Makima’s part to not chase her when she pulled away too soon for her liking.
“Was that okay? I’m sorry, I know you said you liked me, but that was awhile ago and I still should have asked first.”
“It was fine,” Makima assured, “No need to apologize.”
“…Just fine?” (Y/n) asked, almost incredulously.
“Could have been longer,” Makima smirked.
“Well, I could rectify that, if it’s okay with you.”
Makima was more than okay with it, she had been waiting for a development like this for what felt like ages. The longer they continued to kiss in her car, the more she began to wonder,
“What made you change your mind about us being together? I recall you not finding workplace relationships favorable.”
“That’s true,” (Y/n) agreed, between trying to catch her breath, “But I decided after attending my third junior’s funeral that I’m done with devil hunting. I’m quitting. I did leave the resignation paperwork on your desk last week, did you not notice it?”
(Y/n), leaving Public Safety? That would make watching her so much more difficult, limit their time together drastically. This both annoyed and exhilarated Makima because she could not have foreseen her making a choice like this. She would not have had her make a decision like this. It was almost enough to make Makima use a bit of persuasion to have (Y/n) sleep on that decision and think it over, but she couldn’t. A (Y/n) under her control was not really her (Y/n) at all, oddly enough.
“I guess I was too busy admiring you, to think about what you were there for.”
“Ever the charmer,” (Y/n) unbuckled her seatbelt, “Well… you have my number, let me know when you get home safe and then maybe we could exchange schedules for next week?”
“You already have a new job?”
“Family Burger,” (Y/n) groaned, “Just until I finish the degree I left hanging. I hope.”
“I guess I know where I will be getting lunch for the foreseeable future then.”
“You cannot eat Family Burger everyday, It’ll kill you!” (Y/n) laughed.
“It would take a lot more than a a little grease to kill me.” Makima grinned, maybe (Y/n) would learn that someday.
“Trust me, it would be more than a little grease. But I wouldn’t be opposed if you came by every once in awhile.”
“It’s a date.”
“No way! I’m gonna take you on a real nice date the next time our schedules sync. Mark my words!” (Y/n) promised. She pressed a quick kiss against Makima’s cheek, then opened the car door to let herself out.
“Good night, Makima.”
“Good night.”
Makima watched (Y/n) wave to her from the door and when she walked inside and shut the door behind her, Makima drove home. She was sure to text (Y/n) of her safe arrival as soon as the dogs stopped jumping all over her.
They texted back and forth for a bit, sharing possible times to meet up, and then Makima decided to take a shower before getting into bed. She stared up at the dark ceiling, going over the night’s events in her mind.
It all felt so very peculiar. Makima wasn’t quite sure she had ever felt so many emotions in such a short time. (Y/n) appeared to return her affections, she kissed her. Multiple times. She only wished (Y/n) would stay with Public Safety. It was something that she could easily remedy, but she had restrained herself yet again. Though Makima wondered if she would be able to continue that trend if she had reason to believe that (Y/n) could be in danger. It was easier to look out for her when they worked together. She may have the birds and rats to keep an eye on her, but the proximity was stretched much too thin for her liking.
Hopefully the next steps in their relationship would follow quickly now that the ball was finally rolling. She wanted to come home to see (Y/n) curled up with her dogs in the worst way.
“Soon,” she promised herself, “soon.”
***
The day did come when (Y/n) suggested moving in somewhere together. It took longer than Makima would have liked to get to that point, but at least it was finally happening. She would have liked to have a talk with whomever gave her the impression that it was customary that women moved in together on the second date. It would have humiliated even Makima if (Y/n) had known she came to pick her up with her trunk full of collapsed boxes to help her move, only to learn they were going to the aquarium.
“Awww, this is the sea lion plush I got you when we went to the aquarium, isn’t it? We should go again sometime soon.” (Y/n) smiled, placing the stuffed animal back on the bed.
Makima nodded in agreement. Despite her initial disappointment, she did have a good time and she did like the sea lion (Y/n) had gifted her. They’re like the dogs of the ocean. Makima never really understood the novelty of such toys, but she had to admit there was something desirable about this one at the very least.
After hanging the rest of (Y/n)’s clothes in the closet, they heard a few whines and a pawing at the door. The dogs had been shut out to keep them out of the way as they unpacked (Y/n)’s belongings.
“The sweet babies,” (Y/n) chuckled, “so lonely.”
“They are simply excited about your indefinite stay, as am I.”
(Y/n) walked around the bed to hug Makima, melting when the embrace was returned.
“Me too. Should we let them in now?”
“Only if you are ready to be buried in seven heavy, wiggly, fluffy dogs.”
“Oh, I think all the other times I came over to visit prepared me for this moment.”
“Fair enough.” Makima smirked at (Y/n) over her shoulder before releasing the dogs upon her.
“Nooo!” (Y/n) laughed.
She was immediately overwhelmed and shoved to the ground. Wagging tails and slobbery tongues hitting her from all sides.
“Makima,” she wheezed, “Help!”
“I thought you said you were prepared?”
“I was wrong!”
“Sit.” Makima ordered. Her voice was soft, but the dogs listened without delay, each looking up at her expectantly. Makima made a quick motion with her hand and the dogs stampeded out of the bedroom.
“Thank you, my hero.” (Y/n) reached her hand up towards Makima, while still laying flat on the floor.
“You’re very welcome,” Makima reached further than (Y/n)’s hand, instead grasping her above her elbow to pull her up so they stood chest to chest. “Is this better?”
“Much.” (Y/n) clung to Makima again, smiling contently.
“So affectionate today,” Makima teased, though she was being just as touchy.
“I would argue I’m always affectionate with you, but I am especially happy right now,” she nuzzled Makima’s jaw, planting a quick kiss against her skin, “I love you.”
It wasn’t the first time (Y/n) had told her so, but the effect was always the same. A warm feeling in Makima’s chest like a warm summer afternoon always bubbled up. It felt so strange, but she enjoyed it.
“And I you.” Makima cupped (Y/n)’s face in her hands. Her stare was as intense as it was tender. She wasn’t sure she had ever been quite as close to happiness as she was right in that moment.
That something out of her control could love her, would choose to love her, it was euphoric.
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wayfayrr · 10 months
Text
Part four for the houshusband AU! Sage gets up to more crimes but also decides to do legal things now ✨ [1] [2] [3]
As I've been asked for it this gets a taglist now! Feel free to ask if you want to be added to it <3 @browneyedgirl22 ✦ @angry-trashcan
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Didn’t take long for Sage to get comfortable, It didn't take long at all. Really he - he’s too comfortable now. Does he have no shame? Not like I’m also not a lot more comfortable now. Getting out, even just to a place like this, helps clear everything and get back to normal. Mostly.
“No Sage you can’t just go around putting whatever you please into your Purah pad.”
He’s worse than even a toddler would be in a supermarket for the first time and naturally with how he's holding me I'm being dragged along with him. Of course, I understand he's not entirely used to shops like this, I've played the games I know what he's used to. But still he still usually has a pretty good ability to read the tone of a situation.
Is it because he's not worried about what anyone here is going to think of him being this clingy?
Actually, I will admit it's adorable to see him acting like there aren’t any threats at the moment. Clingy isn’t bad, he could be so so much worse. That’s what I got from what he said earlier at least. He seems happy for once; if that’s not the sweetest thing I’ve seen I would be lying.  And he hasn’t heard me. Or didn’t listen. Great.
“So where would rings be found in here love?”
He’s serious about being my husband. He's serious about it enough to not listen to what I'm asking.
“Well, this is a general store, so nowhere in here. I mean there are a couple of places around here that sell them but you don’t need to sage. Besides I probably couldn’t afford one you like.”
“Let’s go there now then. It's far more important than any of this.”
What have I gotten into? He genuinely wants my hand in marriage. Was marriage in Hyrule always this casual? I mean I guess Hudson married his wife based on her name.  Even then he still asked normally. He didn’t just announce they were married there and then!?
Nothing really to do but play the cards you’re dealt right? And I like sage, I do, so there’s no issue. I can be Sage’s spouse, I can do this. There's no small part I'm petrified of what would happen if I didn't accept him.
“Really it’s not sage, groceries and other supplies are far more important than a ring.”
“The groceries can wait, love. People need to know you’re mine. So dearest, can you please take me to a jeweller? Also, would it be too hard to ask you to call me by pet names from now on, my love?”
Sage won’t take no for an answer, will he? Even if I keep saying no he won't drop it, honestly I'm tempted to go and just take him to a cheaper store to pick something out and have it done with. Because I’ll be the one who has to buy it after all. That other thing he’s asked as well… Could I do that?Pet names weren’t the first thing on my mind, but we are a couple now, it’s only natural right? Has he noticed I’m blushing now? Could he be saying all this on purpose to rile me up? To manipulate me?No. He wouldn’t do that. Stop assuming the worst of people [name].
“Sure, honey??? You aren’t going to drop it until I agree. Are you?”
Sage has me wrapped around his finger at this point, I can’t say no to him, but only because he’s most likely stressed out of his mind right now. So I don’t have to feel bad. I'm caving so easily, I can do that without feeling bad… And if I’m his spouse now… Well it’s only natural that I look after him, isn’t it?
Local jewellers we go then, as he clings to me like I’m his only lifeline here… which I am if I really think about it. He knows nothing here, nothing. Our relationship, his memories, his features those are the only things he really has tying him back to his own world and one of those things shouldn’t really count. Holding Sage, well being held by him to look as if I’m holding him is nice. like when he was lying to me, He’s soft.And now he’s kissing my neck.
“Well then my beloved, I’m sorry I haven’t given you a ring sooner, I should have been more prepared when I told you so my love choose whatever you please.”
Wait, is he offering to pay? With what money, he doesn’t have anything here? Actually, now I think about that, opening a current account for him might not be a bad idea… oh but he’ll need an ID for that, does he even have a surname? Should he just use mine? Lying he lost his documents in a fire could work, we could file the other paperwork today…
I’ll just choose something cheap, is that..?
“This one, it’s one of my favourite stones. I never knew it was sold here. And it’s not too expensive either…” 
“Oh my love, It’s even part of a matching pair. You have perfect taste.”
Sage’s confidence really has improved since he’s gotten here, after saying that he’s gone to talk to the salesperson all alone and handed him a single green rupee. I swear I’ve told him already that we don’t use rupees here let alone - they accepted it... AND THEY’RE OFFERING HIM CHANGE?? 
Standing there stunned until he came back over and slid the ring onto my finger with a kiss seems to be exactly the reaction he wanted though. Sticking himself back to my side and tugging the both of us back to the shops I originally wanted to go to, it almost feels like he wants my praise. Really even I can agree he deserves it after that stunt.
“That was, I mean where do I start Lavender, thank you really. How did you even know that would work?”
“Most places like that in my world trade with gems as well my love, Wind mentioned how you reacted the first time you saw a rupee so I assumed it would be the same here. Don’t you assume I wouldn’t have paid more either, I would happily burn the world down for you my sweet [name].”
“By the way Sage, about the fact you want to be my husband. There’s some paperwork to be done to make it official here, after we’ve finished here it would be a good idea to sort that all out.”
Sage’s face lighting up feels like it’s going to happen a lot more from this point on; hopefully, now that he’s got that to focus on I can finish shopping without any issues. After all of this, given there are no issues, Sage will be my husband.
And so now he is, after a couple of hours of lying and processing then lying and processing but now I won’t have to worry about being arrested so that’s one more thing taken care of. Sage couldn’t be more pleased to be my husband officially either which makes it more worth it in my eyes and…
Why is there a shadow in my window?
“You can see that as well can’t you, I’m not seeing things right?”
“Do you want me to deal with it darling~”
“No, let’s see what it is first. It could just be a friend of mine pulling a prank or something.”
Always like it was with any of the links back in Hyrule, Sage decided to go in first. Mumbling to himself about how he should be the only one to deal with any threats, taking his self-appointed role as my sole protector more seriously than anything else. Following behind him as he cracked opened the door to where the intruder was hiding is the first thing since leaving Hyrule to make me feel like I’m before some sort of threat.
“Well I will admit this is a rather strange situation, usually I don’t do at-home visits for my customers. It is somewhat comforting to see you though [name], Mr.hero’s been very worked up about you vanishing.”
That voice, that outfit, well I wasn’t wrong about the fact it could be a friend. What are the shadow’s plans? First sage and now him as well?
“R-Ravio!?”
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venus-haze · 2 years
Text
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)
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Gif credit to @karamelcoveredolicity​
Summary: You’ve been Elvis’ personal assistant since his Comeback Special in ‘68. Your work leaves you little time for a social life, but you don’t mind, you get to work for Elvis Presley, after all. When Priscilla leaves him and he finds out the truth about the Colonel, your relationship with him shifts drastically. And not for the better.
Notes: Reader is a woman, but there are no other specific descriptors. Obviously I don’t condone the behavior in this fic in real life. Please read and consider the warnings before reading this fic. All content that could be considered disturbing is under the cut. Let me know if warnings need to be updated or added. Requests are open🔮 Do not interact with my blog or posts if you are under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail, obsessive and manipulative behavior, and abuse of power, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Some sexual content that involves coercion, but nothing overtly explicit. Do not interact if you are under 18.
Prequel | Part 2 | Part 3
You were fresh out of college when you snagged a job at NBC’s studio in Los Angeles as a production assistant. The first year or so was mostly getting coffee and answering phones, only doing real work on sets every so often. You ended up getting on the good side of one of the executives when you managed to find a pilot script that had gone missing. From there, you were working directly on sets, brushing shoulders with stars you could have only dreamed of meeting.
The highlight of your career as a production assistant came along when you were assigned to work Elvis Presley’s upcoming Christmas special. You thought it sounded a little corny, but at least you’d get to be in the same room as Elvis, the man whose face adorned the walls of your teenage bedroom.
The "Christmas special" became a covert operation to actually film Elvis’ musical comeback with as little interference from his odd and overbearing manager as possible. You felt like you were part of a team, something bigger than yourself, especially when Steve Binder had asked you to personally assist Elvis throughout production, spiriting him away when needed to avoid the Colonel.
"Me? Steve, I don’t know if I’m qualified to do that. I mean, he’s Elvis Presley," you’d argued.
"Y/N, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t trust you. EP needs someone reliable in the network right now," he said.
That was more than enough convincing for you, although when you formally met Elvis, you were shaking like a leaf. He was kind, taking the time out of what you knew was his busy schedule just to talk to you. Your professional relationship developed, and he began asking your opinions on aspects of his career unrelated to the special.
You were surprised when he had approached you before production was even over, offering you a position as his personal assistant going forward. Without hesitation, you accepted, giving NBC your notice as soon as shooting for the special had wrapped up. Your friends balked at the decision, but you had the last laugh when the special finally aired that December and set Elvis’ career trajectory skyrocketing again.
He had told you about his plans to tour the world, finally be able to go to Europe, and even Japan. He’d need extra help for such an ambitious undertaking, and you nearly cried when he said he saw something in you that made him know you’d be the perfect fit. The prospect of traveling internationally was especially appealing; there were so many places you wanted to visit, but couldn’t afford to go.
As time went on, these dreams of foreign cities were replaced by sold out residencies in Las Vegas and adrenaline-filled tours throughout the United States, but you didn’t mind that much. Elvis had become a close friend to you, and you’d spent many hours just chatting with him in his suite or dressing room. It didn’t even feel like work sometimes.
You didn’t know what you’d be without him, probably still clawing your way up the ranks at NBC or another studio. You were his shoulder to cry on when Priscilla divorced him. Not that you necessarily blamed her, Elvis was by no means perfect, but he was your friend. Your heart broke further when he informed you of the Colonel’s lies and how much debt he’d put Elvis and his family in to fuel his own greed and gambling addictions.
You developed a habit of checking on Elvis in his dressing room after his Vegas shows, it was when he seemed to be most troubled, most vulnerable. The door was closed, so you knocked, making Elvis aware of your presence. You could hear a muffled "Come in," and entered.
Elvis’ dressing room was always in some state of mess despite the International’s housekeeping staff, with plates of hastily eaten meals and various glasses of half drunk alcohol strewn about the room. His elaborate costumes were either hanging on a clothing rack, or styled on mannequins.
He sat on the crushed velvet couch, his head in his hands. You noticed the empty whiskey bottle on top of the vanity and frowned. It wasn’t good for him, not with all the pills and potions Dr. Nick passed out like candy.
"You put on a great show tonight! Like you always do," you exclaimed as you approached him.
He lifted his head. "Y/N, you can’t leave me," he said, the desperation in his voice startling you. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he’d been crying. You couldn’t tell whether it was tears or sweat dripping down his face.
"Elvis, what are you talking about? Why would I leave?"
"Everyone else has. You see the news, I’m washed-up. No one cares about me anymore."
"I care about you. You’re so important to me," you said earnestly, sitting next to him and putting your arm around his shoulders. "I mean, since we first met, we’ve hardly spent a day apart."
That did make you feel guilty. You liked Priscilla, she was always kind to you, but you knew the distance must have taken a toll on their relationship. The drugs too, which you tried to curtail his use of to the best of your ability. For better or worse, you felt an obligation to take care of Elvis, especially now when he seemed more alone than ever.
Caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the change in the way he was looking at you, as if seeing a completely different woman from his personal assistant of nearly three years.
He engulfed you in a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You returned the gesture and swore you must have imagined feeling his lips press against your skin. Rubbing comforting circles into his back, you held him for what felt like hours.
"Maybe you should head up for the night," you suggested. "Take a shower and try to get some rest."
He lifted his head, opening his mouth as if to respond to you, but instead he nodded, getting up from the couch and walking over to the door. You followed, taking his hand in yours as the two of you stood in the hallway.
"If you need anything, you let me know, okay? I’m not going anywhere," you said, hoping your smile would reassure him.
"Thanks, darlin’. You gave me a lot to think about," he said.
His gaze was intense as he brought your hand up to his lips, giving it a kiss. You felt your face heat up at the gesture. He’d given you quick kisses on the cheek before, but this seemed more intimate.
Someone called for him, and he dropped your hand, clearly annoyed by the interruption. You used this as your opportunity to bow out for the night, letting him know you’d be returning to your own room in the hotel.
You took the elevator up to the floor just below the penthouse, where you and almost everyone else in Elvis’ entourage resided. Of course, your room wasn’t nearly as big as his suite, but it was nicer than any apartment you’d rented in LA. Elvis wouldn’t let you pay for anything yourself, from room service to use of the hotel’s many amenities, claiming it was part of your benefits as a Presley Family Enterprises employee. You could definitely see how his generosity played a role in landing him in debt to the Colonel’s "management company," so you decided not to overdo it.
Just as you were starting to get comfortable and wind down for the night, you heard your room’s phone ring over the sound of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” playing on the TV. You sighed, reaching over to the nightstand to pick up.
"Hey, Y/N," Jerry said.
"What’s up, Jerry?"
"EP wants to see ya."
"Oh, why didn’t he just call me?"
"Who knows. He just told me to tell you," he said. "I’m headin’ down to the casino."
"Alright, don’t have too much fun," you said as you hung up.
It was odd, Elvis knew your room’s phone number. You supposed he was busy with something else, and Jerry was the closest person around. You put your dress from the day back on, sliding into your shoes before leaving to go up to the penthouse and see what Elvis needed you for.
You were the only other person who had a key to Elvis’ suite at the International. When he’d given it to you, the two of you alone in his dressing room after one of his shows a little over a year ago, you accepted it with pride that he trusted you so much. Still, you never exploited the privilege, even knocking beforehand as a courtesy.
"Elvis? Jerry said you needed me?" you called out as you unlocked the door to his suite.
The room was dark, only illuminated by the televisions on the wall. You noticed Elvis sitting on the couch in his silk robe, with little else on that you could notice.
You gasped, turning away from him. "Oh—my, I’m so sorry, I’ll—"
"C’mere," he said, voice deep and smooth. He was still sweaty from the show earlier that night, his jet black hair messy and sticking to his forehead. He had a bottle of some kind of alcohol in his hand, which he placed on the coffee table in front of him.
You stood frozen in place.
"Don’t make me ask twice, darlin’. And lock the door behind you," he demanded.
With a ragged breath, you did as he said, hearing a pleased hum rumble from his chest when he heard the door lock. A commoner entering a throne room, you approached him cautiously, his eyes blazing as they followed your every move. You felt ten inches tall, and for the first time since you met, you were truly intimidated by him.
He let out an amused scoff when you sat on the far edge of the couch. "Closer, baby."
You got up, hesitantly sitting down next to him. He put his hand on your thigh, sliding the hem of your dress up higher and higher, until you placed your hand over his.
"Elvis, this isn’t appropriate," you protested.
He gave you a sly grin, his eyes hooded as he leaned over you, effectively trapping you on the couch. "I’m just tryin’ to make my best girl feel good. Don’t you think you deserve that for how hard you work? How good you are to me?"
"I don’t need anything. Just making you happy is enough for me," you said, hoping to quell whatever was bringing on this change in his behavior.
"It’d make me real happy if you just lay back and let me take care of you for once, huh?"
Unsure of what else to do or say, you nodded. Not so long ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before, especially when you first met him, in awe of how impossibly handsome he was in person. You’d actually felt bad about your fantasies when you got to know the man behind the star, charming and kind, who seemed to take a genuine interest in you despite your having no status in the entertainment industry. Maybe he really was trying to take care of you, recognize your devotion despite everything falling apart.
You gasped when his fingers brushed over your panties. The cool metal of his rings on your thighs made you feel all the more sensitive.
Softly, slowly, the way the serpent must have spoken to Eve in the garden, he whispered, "Tell me you love me, and I’ll give you everything."
"I love you. I love you, Elvis," you whimpered.
The worst part was that it was true. You did love him, to a fault, you’d now come to realize, but you never wanted things to end up like this. There was no romance, no passion. It all seemed so desperate and dirty.
"I love you too, Y/N. It’s you and me now. Just us, baby," he panted, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders as he stripped you of your clothes. He shed his robe, and as you had expected earlier, wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. Your head was spinning as he kept muttering ‘I love you’ while he kissed and groped you, his hands warming your skin as it made contact with the cool air in his suite.
You weren’t sure when you’d ended up on his bed, but at some point when he had nearly suffocated you in a kiss, he must have grabbed you by the hips and guided you over. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you grabbed for a sheet to cover yourself, but he caught your wrist in his hand.
He clicked his tongue. "I don’t think so, darlin’. I wanna see what’s mine."
Everything was a blur from there, and when you woke up that afternoon, you felt sore all over. You remembered you were in his bed, and tried getting up, only to be kept in place by his arms snaked around your middle, holding you against him. Grabbing one of his arms, you pulled it off of you, and then the other. Just as you were about to get out of his bed and as far away from him as possible, he stirred awake.
"Where do you think you’re goin’?" Elvis asked, his normally bright blue eyes, stormy and dark.
Your eyes widened, not expecting to be put on the spot like that. "Bathroom."
He nodded. "Alright, come back to bed when you’re done in there."
You grabbed your bra and panties that had been discarded on the couch, sighing when you noticed the zipper on your dress was now broken. Continuing into the ornate bathroom, you locked the door before you even turned the light on.
As the room was illuminated, your hand flew to your mouth in horror when you saw yourself in the mirror. Your neck and collarbone were littered with dark hickies, your waist and hips with finger-shaped bruises that almost looked like stripes on your skin.
With shaking hands, you reached for a cup, filling it with water from the sink and taking small, slow sips. You didn’t want to go back and have to face him, and decided to try to drag it out as long as you could. You slowly redressed, taking care of how sensitive your skin was. A few minutes had gone by, and you hoped he’d fallen back asleep so you could get the hell out of there.
Your heart dropped when you opened the bathroom door, seeing Elvis speaking on his bedside phone. He looked at you, a smile spreading across his face. Hastily, he ended the call and beckoned you back over to the bed.
"I ordered room service, should be here in a few minutes," he said. "I got your favorite."
"Thank you," you said. What else was there to say? ‘Hey, what the fuck was last night?’ You situated yourself in his bed, pulling the covers up over your chest.
With a gentleness he failed to display last night, he moved your head to give you a tender kiss on the lips. You kissed him back, but pulled away with a hiss when he placed his other hand on your bruised shoulder.
"Oh, baby, I went too hard on you last night, huh?" he cooed, caressing your cheek. "I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ll be more gentle next time."
"Next time?"
He didn’t notice you squeak out the question as room service had knocked. He got up from the bed, throwing on his robe as he made his way to the door. The room service staff entered the suite with their cart of food and drinks, but you kept your gaze cast downward, too embarrassed to even attempt to make eye contact.
He sat down to eat, but you hadn’t left his bed yet.
"Eat up, Y/N, before it gets cold," he said.
"Can I have something to wear? My dress broke," you said.
He seemed amused. "‘Course, darlin’. I’ll buy you a new one."
Elvis handed you one of his robes to put on, and you wrapped it tightly around yourself, wanting to keep your body as covered as possible. His hand was on the small of your back as he walked you over to the table where the dishes were laid out. Your favorite dish was placed next to where he was sitting. Did the International’s kitchen even make that?
The two of you ate in silence, which you were thankful for. Despite the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite. Eating your comfort food improved your mood a bit, and you allowed yourself to sneak glances at Elvis when you thought he wasn’t looking.
You were so confused, about what had happened that night and your own feelings about him. You weren’t sure you could bring yourself to hate him, not when he caught you staring and gave you a boyish smile. He’d never acted the way he did last night before, and you couldn’t think of any time he indicated he was attracted to you, at least not that you noticed. You knew you needed time on your own to think.
"I think I’m going to head back to my room to shower," you announced when you finished eating.
"Why? There’s a perfectly good shower in here," he said.
"I need my shampoo."
"Just be down for the soundcheck at 6, alright?"
"Okay."
"I love you, baby," he said.
"I love you too."
You gave him a kiss and fled the suite, wasting no time in running to the elevator. You frantically pressed the button to your floor, and as soon as the doors opened, sprinted to your room.
Shedding the robe he had given you, you threw it across the room, along with your bra and panties. When you showered, you had scrubbed your body as much as you reasonably could, as if it would undo what had just occurred the previous night.
You couldn’t bring yourself to do more than stare at the wall, exhaustion washing over you. You were dreading the soundcheck, only three hours away, but you couldn’t claim illness. Elvis had just seen that you were fine, and you didn’t want any of Dr. Nick’s "medical care." You caked concealer and foundation over any visible hickies, and threw on a scarf for good measure, hoping to avoid any potential questions about where you’d gotten them if anyone noticed.
To your surprise, the soundcheck and next few days went smoothly, as if the encounter in his suite never happened. The only thing that changed was he’d kiss you in front of others, and introduced you as ‘his girl.’ The congratulations were sweet, but the claims from his band and the Memphis Mafia that they ‘knew it would happen sooner or later’ shocked you. Were you that oblivious to Elvis’ feelings toward you before?
On an afternoon before yet another Vegas show, he asked you to meet him in his suite. It sent a wave of anxiety through you, but you agreed, figuring what had happened a few nights ago was a one-off incident, the result of whatever had been injected into his veins before the show and the overwhelming feelings of loneliness he’d been struggling with.
You cautiously entered the suite, relieved to find the lights on, curtains open, and Elvis fully clothed, playing a tune on his piano. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he crossed the threshold to meet you.
"There you are," Elvis said, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.
"Did I keep you waiting too long?"
"Y/N, darlin’, I had the best idea," he said, smiling the way you hadn’t seen in a long time, enthusiastic and full of life. You’d hoped the past few days had been a fluke, and he was back to his old self again.
"What is it?"
"You and me get married. Whattya say?"
Your face fell. Though he and Priscilla had been separated for a while, the ink was hardly dry on the freshly served divorce papers. It definitely wouldn’t look great publicly, but he was in no state to get remarried so soon, especially not to you. "I’m not sure that’d be a good idea."
"Why not?" he looked hurt, as if it had never crossed his mind you would answer with anything but an enthusiastic ‘yes’.
"I know you’re still hurting from Priscilla leaving, but—"
"But I have you. And if I don’t have you anymore then I—I’ll—" He stormed over to the glass case that housed his gun collection, which had only grown as of late.
You immediately rushed over, hugging him from behind in an attempt to restrain his arms. "I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you, Elvis. Okay?"
You panicked when you felt one of his arms pulling from your grasp, so you held him closer, pressing your face against his back.
"Why’re ya cryin’?" he asked, voice emotionless as he felt your wet tears bleed through his shirt.
"Because I’m so happy," you lied. Lied straight through your teeth.
You loved him, cared about him, but you were terrified and had no one to turn to. Everyone had either checked out or were content turning a blind eye to his increasingly troubling behavior. You supposed you played some role in letting things come to this.
Had you really been so engrossed in the glamour and chaos of it all to not notice? Whenever the topic of relationships came up, you’d joke that you were married to your job. Thinking about it more deeply, perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that your job was an all-consuming entity which overtook your life. You’d lost touch with your LA friends, mostly socializing with Elvis’ supporting band, backup singers and the Memphis Mafia. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to your family besides a quick phone conversation, and spending holidays at Graceland became a given. Your whole life revolved around him.
When you felt Elvis’ hand over yours, you resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, you relaxed your arms, allowing him to turn around and take your face in his hands. He wiped away your still-flowing tears with his thumbs.
"I knew you’d make the right choice, baby. You’re always so good to me," he said, his delusional joy evident on his face. 
You nodded, hiccuping as you tried not to hyperventilate. You were trapped. Trapped like he was. He knew how horrible it felt, and yet he dragged you down with him. Misery loves company.
“I’m gonna call the hotel manager, let ‘em know to bring your stuff from your room up here,” he said. 
“Okay,” you whispered. “That sounds great.”
The next few hours were a whirlwind as you watched your life being brought up, piece by piece in his–now your–suite. He went on about the wedding, and you silently wondered when he’d even have the time in his busy schedule. Your eyes drifted to the glass case that had just become the bane of your existence. Shotgun. It’d probably be quick, devoid of any ritual or intimacy; a witness, two signatures and a ceremonial kiss. That was all you’d get. 
Later that night, when Elvis had his next show, you stood off to the side of the stage, as usual. He was captivating as ever, and you hated that you still smiled when he sang your favorite songs and cracked jokes to the audience. He had the charisma to match his looks, and you mourned the dream man you had crafted in your mind before his true colors came into view.
“Now, before I leave tonight, there’s someone I want y’all to meet. She’s real special to me,” he began.
You felt like you were going to throw up. He wouldn’t. He never brought Priscilla on stage, and would only mention her during the shows she was actually present at. Then, to your horror he did just that, calling you by name and waving you to join him on stage with him. Frozen in shock, you stood firmly in your spot side stage, not missing the glare he shot you when it seemed like you were taking too long.
“Go on, girl!” one of the stagehands urged you with an oblivious smile.
You walked onto the stage, feeling dizzy and then dizzier. Hundreds of people’s eyes were on you, but none of them felt like they were piercing your soul like his were. You didn’t know what to expect from this new power play until Elvis got down on one knee, presenting you with a glittering diamond ring.
“Y/N, darlin’, will you be my wife?” he asked, with a lovestruck sincerity that almost made you say ‘yes’ without hesitation.
Still, you looked out to the crowd, hoping at least one of them would sense your discomfort. Instead, they broke out into taunting laughter when he said, “She’s just got a little stage fright.”
That was it. Say ‘no’ and look like a bitch while still having to marry him, or say ‘yes’ in front of hundreds of people, effectively killing any chance at arguing that he made you do it. Eyes watering, for the second time that day, you agreed to marry him. The crowd erupted in applause, and he kissed you, passionately like you’d always wanted. Like he really loved you. You almost fell for that act too, until he pulled you close, his lips barely brushing your ear.
“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he whispered, echoing the words of reassurance you had told him just a few days before.
With that, you collapsed in his arms, blissfully unaware of the still roaring crowd and pleased smirk that had spread across his face.
1K notes · View notes
howdoesagrapewrites · 10 months
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Hello
I really really loved your yandere poly pavitr
And I was wondering if you could write a situation where the reader noticed the crazy behaviour and try’s to escape them or they have a big fight about it and they try to get them back or comfort reader?
𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢
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Cw: yandere, reader x lovesick!Pavitr Prabhakar x lovesick!Gayatri Singh, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, unhealthy relationships
Notes: this happens after the reader tried to escape in Bound by Webs
Yellow wallpaper. Yellow wallpaper with little flowers decorating it. Yellow wallpaper with around 5,128 flowers decorating it, you couldn't settle on the exact number. Yellow wallpaper with 5,128 little flowers decorating it, and a clock that sometimes seems to be broken. You also tried to look at other details in your room, but nothing seemed as comforting as counting flowers, you didn't have to think of anything else, except keeping in mind the exact number you had until then, otherwise you'd have to start again. There was something about counting flowers in the yellow wallpaper that felt more normal, that felt better than going outside of your room to see what your life had become after that day in the alley.
You had needs, so you ate, you drank water, you interacted, but your captors didn't take rejection kindly and you didn't take kindly to being woken up from your daydreams. So of course fights broke often, mostly with Gayatri, Pavitr refused to engage with you entirely when you were trying to communicate all the distress you were in, that angered you even more. One day you just snapped and slapped him, his cheek now red and starting to swell, you wished this would wake him up from his delusions, that he would express some sort of clarity, even if it was to hurt you, you longed for the unmistakably human response of wrath, confusion, sadness, something, something that would make him see things as they are. But he just rubbed his cheek slightly, and kissed your forehead while holding your wrists.
"It's okay, you'll feel better soon, I know you didn't mean that" He left the room and closed the door, not even slamming it, you screamed in frustration, where's your boyfriend? Where's the man you feel in love with? The one that's funny, witty, sassy, charming, kind of a nerd, full of energy, he was so many beautiful things, and now he acts like a dog, he only ever wants to be close to you or Gayatri, you don't even know if he's spiderman anymore, if there's anything left of him.
You screamed and cried, but none of them came, you don't even know if that's a blessing or a curse. You understand why this is happening, it's because you tried to escape, because you deceived them, you manipulated them. You're the boy who cried wolf.
Sometimes you are numb, and all you can think about is how you should try to escape again, complete apathy to anything but survival, but there another times when guilt completely washes over you, when Gayatri's words repeat over and over, like a broken record. "If we're monsters, you are too, and you need to accept it." Gayatri did have a point, you weren't at all that normal, not after all you've experienced, and you cling to those last remainings of sanity, you tell yourself how you're supposed to react, to act, how a normal person should react in a situation like this, but it's getting tiring, and confusing. But you were too scared to let go of it, you felt like you're clinging on a tiny float at open sea, you are sure you'll be swallowed by the wild waves at any time, but prefer to have a slower, more difficult death, to fight the inevitable instead of letting go and peacefully letting the waters envelop you like a blanket. When you're not in that situation, it's easy to think you shouldn't dwell on it, you die either way, but now, it's the decision that will change the course of your life, and you can only take one route.
"I made your favorite" Pavitr placed a plate of a delicious looking dinner in front of you, you forced a smile and tried to not look at it like eating was a chore.
"love, why don't you tell me about your day?" He cheerily asked Gayatri
"Not much, I was waiting for you and doing some work stuff on my laptop" she complied with the small talk and continued the meaningless exchange, her pupils seemed heart shaped when she looked at Pavitr, she used to look at you that way too.
You were busy with your excessive chewing of the food, hoping it'd get you hungry, but at the third bite you couldn't do it anymore. "I'm sorry, I can't" you looked at Pavitr with shame, knowing that in his altered perception of reality, you just needed tender love and care so you'd "get back to health"
He nodded and tried to motivate you to eat a little more, even if it was slower, he was interrupted. "Don't you start now, Y/N. All Pav is trying to do is give us a nice dinner, and you can't stop acting like a brat" Gayatri was harsh on you now, ever since your escape attempt, she struggled to trust you again, but you knew she missed you, you heard her breathing outside the closed door of your room when you were counting flowers, and she kept preparing your chai the way you liked it, even if she always found it too sweet, Gayatri loved you and missed you, but she was hurt by you, she was defensive and wanted to send a message: she wasn't easy to manipulate, you couldn't play her for a fool again.
You felt your tears start to dampen your cheeks, Pavitr glared at his girlfriend. "I really don't want to, I don't want to act like this. I don't want to cause you any more pain, but my instincts keep telling me to run away, that this is wrong, that I'm in danger." Your voice breaks, and even with this sharp pain inside your chest, you feel relieved to voice this, you look at Gayatri, talking directly to her. "I'm not a good liar, all that time, I did enjoy every minute we were together, but all my subconscious yells to me is that I should hate you, and I don't know who to trust anymore" you look at Pavitr "I hate when you act like I'm crazy, but maybe you were right, maybe I do want to stay here, and all this running away nonsense is just that, nonsense. I-" you wanted to keep going, you could go on for hours, but you didn't have the strength, both Pavitr and Gayatri stood up from their seats and hugged you, you cried it all out, all you couldn't express, you blurted out muffled sounds of "I'm sorry", "I don't want it" but most importantly "I love you". You loved them, it so hard not to, even as you thought you were escaping, you couldn't convince yourself not to love them, you stopped crying and saw Gayatri's heart eyes, you knew you were far too deep in to escape. You would love them even as the void consumes them. The salty water of your tears tasted just like the dangerous open sea, you let go of the float and the water baptises you, rebirths you. You kissed both of them like it was the first time, and then you ate a bite of Pavitr's food. Exquisite.
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