#please enjoy these extremely lazy gifs

[kenobion]

Andrew Garfield at the GQ Men of the Year Awards

#please enjoy these extremely lazy gifs #andrew garfield #my gifs #when I only make a set of two you know I'm feeling lazy #and I was slow to the uptake with this cause I only just ran across something with this footage #I do still have a spiritual need to look at him #he soothes both my eyes and my brain #and I love that sparkle in his eyes #ugh despite it all I am still so soft for him #I need somebody to love for real 😭 #tw: flashing #flashing gif

[nariism]

{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]

Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞

a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3

you've been spoiling him to no end.

if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.

right now, he just feels miserable.

wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.

you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.

"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.

"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.

"it’s just a necklace."

"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.

"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."

you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"

the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."

"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"

"feed me."

"..."

his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.

if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.

and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.

the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.

so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.

that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.

you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.

either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.

"i should get sick more often," he muses.

you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.

"no... please don't."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

#— whispers in the wind ✧ #not proofread :p i'm sorry #genshin impact #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fluff #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin fic #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x gn reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin

[barcaatthemoon]

lazy day || alexia putellas x reader ||

you and alexia spend a much needed day in bed together.

you groaned as the beeping from your alarm grew louder. there really wasn't anywhere for you to be, but you had forgotten to turn it off for your day off. you tried to roll towards the noise, but surprisingly, you found yourself being held onto tightly by alexia. she wasn't normally one to stay in bed past six, and you wondered for a moment if she felt ill.

"ale, i'd like to stop the beeping," you said as you wriggled away from her. she whined, something that you hadn't heard in quite some time. you quickly turned the alarm off and situated yourself right back in her arms again. "do we have any plans for today? i was thinking that we could maybe go shopping."

"no," alexia told you. you pouted at her, and she was quick to respond with one of her own. "i want to spend the day with you doing nothing. please, mi amor."

you didn't have any real obligations, so you allowed yourself the comfort of staying in bed with alexia for at least a little while longer. you laid back and relished in the feeling of being in her arms. there was nothing in the world that made you feel safe like being with her like that. alexia's strong arms provided a comfort that you knew you'd never find again.

"you know, i'm not really tired." you could feel alexia trying to lull you back to sleep, but it wasn't working. you did love the feeling of her always perfectly trimmed nails raking gently against your scalp.

"that's okay, you don't have to go to sleep. i just want you to lay here with me," alexia said. she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as she shifted slightly beneath you. it should have been absolutely perfect, but you had a hard time relaxing when you had the feeling that something was going on with alexia.

this carried on even after she had finally gotten out of bed for the day. it was nearly 9 o'clock, which you didn't believe was late by normal standards, but it might as well have been the afternoon for alexia. she moved around her house sluggishly as she pulled out the ingredients for breakfast.

since you had practically moved in with alexia, she had gotten you used to her making you breakfast each morning. you knew it was mainly because she wanted to make sure that you stuck to the meal plans that had been made up for you, but it was still sweet of her. she liked taking care of you, something that had surprised the both of you quite a bit at first.

alexia was a caring person, but she had never really given off domestic vibes. all of it came quickly once you started to spend time at her apartment. she began to invite you over for meals, basking in the way your face lit up as she brought you something that she had specifically cooked for you.

it was more than just the food. alexia loved doing all sorts of little things for you around the house. she knew that you could take care of yourself and your own messes, but the kisses you'd give her for helping made it more than worth any trouble. today though, as alexia moved around the kitchen, you knew that the dishes would sit in the sink until tomorrow.

"to the couch. vamos!" alexia swatted your ass as she passed you by. you glanced back over at the sink, but didn't make any moves to clean up. you were no stranger to a sink full of dishes, but you doubted alexia was. she liked to get ahead of things before they piled up. "right here, on my lap. get in close. we are going to watch one of the scary shows."

"i thought you didn't like my shows," you said softly. alexia had been very clear that she had no intentions of watching any of the horror-themed shows that you tended to enjoy. alexia liked for you to think of her as tough and fearless, and those shows made her jump and squeal like a little girl.

"i do not, but i like you a lot. one could even say that i love you, so we can watch them today. if it gets to be too much, i'll just use you as a shield." alexia was being extremely honest. you chuckled as she turned the two of you to lay down on the couch.

alexia sprawled out on top of you, partially tucking her face into the side of your neck. she could still see the television, but her view would be easily hidden if she wanted it to be. the feeling of her breath against your neck was a bit distracting, especially once she had fallen asleep. in her sleep, alexia had pulled you even closer, causing her mouth to press gently against one of the more sensitive spots on your neck.

silently, you turned the television off and carefully shifted to lay a little straighter. you'd wake up from your little nap with a terrible ache in your neck, but alexia would be more than happy to rub it out for you. you closed your eyes and tried to match alexia's breathing as you quickly drifted off to sleep. you hadn't done much all day, but the week's exhaustion finally seemed to catch up with you.

hours later, you woke up curled up on alexia's lap as she sat on the balcony. alexia was chatting away to someone on the phone in spanish, carting her fingers through your hair as she spoke quietly. you pretended to be asleep for a little while longer, even though you knew alexia saw right through you. still, she didn't acknowledge it until she got off of the phone.

"i know that i should have left you inside, but i didn't want you to leave my arms," alexia said as she lifted your head slightly. you puckered your lips for a kiss, which she happily granted you. it was a light press of your lips against yours, but it was enough for the moment. anything else probably would have made your head spin a bit.

"what was all that about?" you asked her. alexia's face fell as she looked at you. her contract at barcelona had been extended, an offer that truly reflected her importance to the club. you had yet to be offered anything, and the window was quickly closing on barcelona to resign you. if they didn't, you'd be forced to move out of spain, and that was the last thing either you or alexia wanted.

"barcelona, they'll resign you for three years, but you have to spend next season on loan. they say it's the only way that they can afford to keep you," alexia said. you didn't like the sound of that, but you weren't opposed to going on loan if it meant you could still come back to barcelona.

"where would i go?" you asked. alexia shrugged. there had been a few clubs that were smart enough to really fight for you. all of them were much further away than alexia was comfortable with. although, you had yearned to play for your home country again, even if you knew that alexia would never follow you all the way to sweden.

"up north, like way up north. they want you back in sweden," alexia answered. your eyes lit up a little, and alexia felt guilty for wanting to hide the information from you. she had thought about it, but it felt dishonest, and her honesty was one of your favorite things about her. "i don't want you to go."

"it's just a season, it's not permanent. i doubt you want me to take the only other spanish team that's willing to sign me." alexia's brows furrowed at the reminder of real madrid's offer on you. it was twice as much as barcelona was willing to pay for you, but alexia had threatened to disown you if you played for them. you didn't doubt that she'd do it, the woman loved barcelona almost more than she loved you sometimes. "you can do this ale, i believe in you."

"i don't want to though. i don't want to wake up without you right here next to me. it's selfish, and i know that i'm being a baby about it, but i deserve to be sometimes. it's not fair," alexia whined. you cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. alexia grumbled a little as you pressed kisses all over her face before you finally kissed her lips.

"don't think about it for now, just enjoy these moments with me right now. let's make a million memories so that when i'm gone, the time just flies by until i can come back to you, okay? you've already given me today," you said. alexia took a deep breath, and if you noticed the tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to blink away, you didn't say anything.

"we can't just lay around all day tomorrow. there's media and training," alexia reminded you.

"i don't need to tomorrow. whenever things get to be too much for me, i'll just remember this day that we spent together. i'll think about the feeling of your arms wrapped around me when i get cold and lonely. anything to put me back in this headspace."

"god, i love you so much," alexia muttered as she squeezed you. you quietly repeated her words back to her, but they were muffled as alexia lifted you up and carried you back inside. this time when your body hit the bed, you knew that it wasn't just for a bit of extra lounging around.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putel #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Heyy! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night! I would like to request a yandere ADA dazai alphabet please. Thank you :)

Yandere Armed Detective Agency Osamu Dazai Alphabet

Author's Note: No problem! After this alphabet is done, I think I'm gonna write Chuuya's next.

Warnings: Mental Abuse, Murder Mentioned, Death Mentioned, Suicide Mentioned, Possessive Behavior, Clinginess, Masochism, Sadism, Self Hatred (Dazai), Manipulation, Minor Gaslighting, Physical Assault, Implied Torture, Torture Mentioned, Sexual Abuse Mentioned and Somewhat Implied, Possible Anime Spoilers If You're Not On Season 4, and Trauma.

Links: {Masterlist} {Alphabet Used}

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Just like in the Port Mafia Alphabet, Dazai is extremely affectionate and he's probably even more affectionate now.

He loves sitting in your lap, kissing you, buying you gifts and flowers, and he loves having all your attention.

There is some evidence in the manga that kinda implies he's a yandere in canon sooo.

He's kinda like a cat, if he wants your attention he'll get it.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

ADA Dazai is less likely to kill people now after Oda's death and the promise he made to him. Plus, he can get rid of his competition in ways that don't make him have to kill.

He can literally cut them out of the picture and they'd still be alive.

If he were to kill though, fragments of his former/true self will surface. It'll be scary.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Firstly, you and Dazai would officially be dating once his yandere tendencies sink in, and he wouldn't kidnap you. He'll slowly become more an more possessive and toxic, and that's when you realize what you got yourself into.

Dazai let's you go out on your own, but that's because he makes sure you're painfully aware that anything you do, he'll know or find out about. Dazai is way too smart to hide things from him for long periods of time.

And you're no secret to anyone. Everyone, even his enemies, know about you. So he is a little worried that Fyodor might do something to you when he isn't there.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Ehhh, depends.

Dazai is, how can I say this, extremely pushy and persistent. He's a womanizer, and the way he is with the woman he ask to do a double suicide with, he'll do the shit to you but worse.

Like, for example, if he wants a hug and you say no, he'll cling to you and whine and whine and whine, like what he does to Kunikida, and you'll eventually give in to him just to shut him up.

Due to his lazy and childish nature, it's easy to forget how dangerous Dazai is and can be. This nature of his makes it so easy to ignore his possessive behavior.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Dazai rarely lets you see how bad he's really doing. He can be crying in the living room at the thought of him losing you, remembering Oda's death, and just his own self hatred, but the moment you come down stairs he's wiping his tears and puts on his flirtatious, childish, lazy and teasing act back on.

It's hard to read Dazai because you never know what he's thinking. It's hard to know how much he's really hurting inside.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Amused. I see Dazai as a masochist with some sadistic tendencies. He'd beg you to hit him more, hit him harder. He'll pin you down to the table and beg you to hit him, to fight back, be his cute little feisty girl/boy.

You'll eventually start crying and he'll feel bad, but only a little bit. Don't forget, the worst part about Dazai is his torture methods, if you go to far you'll see why Dazai was so dangerous in the PM.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

If you were to actually escape, Dazai would've known about your plan way before you actually did it.

The thing is, Dazai as a yandere feels more like a toxic boyfriend than a capture. So I wouldn't call it escaping, I'd call it breaking up with him.

Dazai would let happened, but don't think you're free to go. I'd say the perfect time to escape is right before Dazai gets arrested by Jouno. Because 1, he won't be able to find you directly, and 2, it can buy you some time.

Dazai would've known, he'd see it coming, he just has to wait for this entire thing to get over with. Once the whole prison thing is over, you'll find him lying down on your couch, saying that he was sorry.

Dazai is so pushy and persistent that you'll eventually get back with him, but this time, it's just a little bit worse.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

If you ever push him too much to talk about his life in the PM, or more specifically Oda. It would cause him to snap.

Now Dazai in ADA wouldn't want to hurt you physically, but he never said he wouldn't.

The more the persist with him about it the more hostile he becomes. He'll eventually pin you to the ground with a gun to you head, asking you if you wanted to die. His eyes would be empty like they were in the PM, his old habits are slipping through again.

You'll scream and cry, begging him to not kill you. He wasn't even going to, he didn't take the safety off. He'd lick and kiss your tears before picking you up and dragging you to your room. The next day you'd wake up with your arms and legs covered in bandages, dried tears sticking to your face, and Dazai sitting next to you with an empty smile on his face, but you can see the cried tears on his face. Whatever he did, you don't want to know, and it's obvious he regrets it.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dazai doesn't really see a future for himself. He wants to end his life in a double suicide with you, that's all he wants.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Dazai doesn't get jealous easily, but when he does it's hard to tell.

There's two kinds of jealously with Dazai, fake jealousy and serious jealousy.

Fake jealousy is when it's extremely obvious. Dazai is whining, clinging to you, begging for kisses and attention, this is mostly common when the two of you are with Chuuya, or anyone Dazai likes/works with. Dazai isn't actually jealous, he's just being annoying.

Now serious jealousy is extremely rare. When he's jealous he's quiet, and he has his arm around your waist or shoulders. He could feel his eyes twitch.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Annoying. He's like a really clingy boyfriend. He's cuddling with you, and if you work at the ADA, he'd beg you to do his paperwork if Kunikida said no and if you say no too he'll whine and whine.

Dazai likes to tease you and whisper the most sexual or teasing things your ear until you walk off, them he'd start laughing and beg you to come back to him. Like I said, it's easy to ignore his red flags.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Like all the other woman he asked to do a double suicide with. But then the longer he spent time with you, the harder in love and obsession he had for you fell. He'd officially ask you out in a beautiful park, it'd be so peaceful.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Dazai's true colors are both dangerous and tragic. Dazai is tragic character, no doubt about it. Rarely anyone has seen them, including you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Dazai doesn't really sexually punish you as often or really in general until his PM counter part. The reason why, eh, it just happened.

Dazai punishes you mentally, physically is rare, mental though is consistent. It breaks you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You surprisingly have a lot of freedom. The right he takes away though is the fact that he'll never let you break up with him or leave him long term.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Dazai is a pretty paitient person.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die, he'd break down. Everything he loved and cared about either left him or died, that's why he was so scared to get attached to anyone. He shouldn't have let himself get attached to you. He'd be pretty empty, he'd try to keep up his facade, but when alone he's crying and just wanting to end his suffering.

Leaving and or breaking up with him I already answered.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He never abducted you in the first place.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I'd say it gotta do with his past. I don't see him ever getting any love and care for the majority of his life. Chuuya pretty much being his first friend, or at least the first friend around his age, Ango's betrayal and losing Oda who he cares a lot about. Dazai is scared of getting attached, or too attached to anyone, because he's scared that he'd lose them because that's what happened in the past.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

If you're crying because of him he'll leave you to it. If someone else made you cry he'd comfort you while your sitting in his lap, crying into his shirt while he rubs you back while saying it'll be ok.

If you isolate yourself he'll whine for you to let him in. If you continue to refuse he'll sigh and give up, he'll probably go bother Kunikida mext.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He doesn't kidnap you, lots of freedom, feels like a normal relationship most of the time.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Good luck finding those. I don't think anyone has out smarted him just yet, correct me if I'm wrong. But if you think you can successfully do it, you're funny.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Dazai worships you. He'll do anything for your attention and praise.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

You got into a consenting relationship at first. I'd say a few years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Possibly, it depends.

#dazai x you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #yandere dazai #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #yandere osamu dazai #yandere dazai x reader #yandere x reader

[xjulixred45x]

Can I please request the female douma in hasbin hotel I just saw the new trailer and thought about my favourite demon lazy demon .

Ohhhh, Hazbin Hotel! That pretty cool! Deal ;)

Thanks for the Request ❤️

Hazbin Hotel x Douma Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: Douma itself is a Warnings (Cults, cannibalism), Hell, Alastor, mentions of alcohol, long work.

You died during the Taisho era, in Japan. having lived a fairly long and…full life, so to speak.

You were born with a unique appearance! with Rainbow irises that made you extremely popular in the area where you lived.

So much so that the people in your family believed that you had a special gift for speaking with the gods, so they formed a cult around you.

without knowing that in this way they would be awakening the darker side of your being.

As you grew up, being worshiped by the cult your parents had made, you couldn't really learn to differentiate emotions, which was frustrating. You wanted to feel SOMETHING, anything. have the experience.

and you tried everything.

do good things, do bad things, help the cult people with words you didn't really mean, scam, hurt, hurt animals, hurt yourself, hurt others in multiple ways, etc.

Even if they generated a certain feeling of emotion in you, you wouldn't say that they filled you up.

until you decided to try killing certain disciples and eating them to get rid of them.

and it was a success!You finally started to feel the emotions that others talked so much about!

Although of course, not all good things come for free, when you died there was no doubt that you would fall to hell, and so it was.

Honestly, You were very surprised to have fallen into hell, not because you didn't deserve it, but because you were an atheist all your life, believing that everything you preached was a lie.

And it turns out that it was true?? How curious.

but it didn't mean you wouldn't take advantage of your new playground.

With your natural charm, your unique and striking appearance (almost the same as you were when you were human) you were able to convince several low-ranking demons to trust you with their souls, rising in rank exponentially.

To make it easier for you, with your demon abilities you created a place similar to what your cult was like, there you could more easily control the people who gave you their souls.

In record time you became an Overlord. one quite well known but very mysterious. One that had a striking appearance and powers, but was rarely seen.

You could do anything you wanted in hell! which made the scope of your misdeeds increase exponentially, you couldn't be happier!

If we're talking about interacting with Hazbin Hotel's rl cast, of course you did! You were somewhat curious to know how Lucifer's daughter's attempt at humanitarian aid would fail. Also, bother Alastor? You are in!

Technically you already knew Alastor, you two died at similar times (you died before) and you saw how he rose very strongly among the Overlords, you liked him.

Unfortunately Alastor did not enjoy your company in the least, precisely because it made it very difficult for him to read you, either because of your lack of GENUINE emotion or because, like him, you used the trick of always having a smiling and pleasant facade.

Still, of course, he would rather be killed again than admit that.

But it was really a shame, he found some aspects of you pleasant.

For example, your taste in Canibal cuisine, Alasror recognized that you had good taste in that aspect.

Apart from that, you came from a VERY rich culture and spoke fluently in both English and Japanese, which was a great sight. Alastor normally wouldn't think that someone (at first glance) so airheaded would be able to speak a language like that so fluently.

but he is definitely something like your Akaza.

I mean, every time you push him out enough, Alastor will use Elrich magic on you and destroy you in the most grotesque ways possible.

That's until he realizes that you like it when he does that! That you make him hurt you on purpose because you're a masochistic son of a bitch!

The worst thing is that he doesn't realize this until Husk tells him...having already known you for years.

Speaking of, Husk doesn't trust you, not in the slightest.

he thinks you're a freak, a second Alastor but even worse, at least Alastor is honest about how horrible he is unlike you.

He serves you drinks when you ask, but if he can, he throws the glass directly in your eye or head, simply because he can. for your delight.

He is quicker to realize your intentions than the average person, and if he realizes that you want to turn one of the hotel members into your "dinner" he is drawing the cards SO FAST---

lots of offensive nicknames, to counteract the "affectionate" nicknames you give to people you know.

Don't touch it or ask it by surprise. Have you seen how cats do when they step on their tail? that's Husk when you surprise him.

Charlie...she's insecure about you.

and she feels BAD about it! She is supposed to be impartial and that everyone deserves a chance to change their ways! but you...well, it's you.

Charlie is not so naive, when more than one member of the Staff warns her that you are bad news, she is considerate of them and tries to make you leave, they have already had incidents with Overlords before, she wants to believe that you are different.

but it proves quite quickly that not when you show your more... somber side.

She tries to be cautious, failing miserably because she wants to know everything about you. You are someone very interesting!

Charlie definitely didn't have much of an idea who you were when she met you, your name did ring any bells, but she didn't think it was that important ---

until you casually blurted out the information that you had a fucking cult.

and that you eat demons.

FROM THE SAME FUCKING CULT YOU HAVE.

There Charlie decides to put into practice everything given in "setting boundaries" and tells you that although she likes how... you liven up the atmosphere of the hotel (and the air conditioning in some way) she DEFINITELY does not want to associate with you having Alastor.

if she KNOWS that you are trying to do something against the hotel or any of the staff members (especially Vaggie)...ohohoho buddy, prepare yourself for an ANGRY Charlie ready to show you WHO'S THE BOSS HERE.

(She definitely tries to get several members of your cult to go to the hotel with her to protect them from you).

You get on Vaggie's nerves. A Lot.

not only because you cool everything you touch, but because you are very similar to Alastor.

She knows you're hiding something, that you want something from them but she can't get it out of you easily, so she's content to just watch you from a distance and make sure you don't mess with anyone.

VERY PROTECTIVE WITH EVERYONE WHEN YOU ARE THERE, it increases the hotel's defenses by 130% and keeps you away from where others are.

You definitely like to annoy her by calling her names that are too friendly for your type of relationship or even using her as an armrest. In these types of cases you usually receive a few good punches in the ribs or a headbutt.

If you try to get too close, she applies the pilot's weapon to you, that is, she takes out her angelic spear and threatens you with a lot of violence. cursing you in Spanish in the process.

She's not as intimidated by you as she is by Alastor, but she definitely doesn't think you're safer for any reason.

less after finding out what you do with the people in your cult.

good luck keeping Vaggie from killing you!

Angel Dust is scared of you, like, really scared.

It's not because you're similar to Alastor, or because you're a Cannibal, or because you're a powerful Overlord. not at all.

It's because you are very similar to Valentino.

You pretend to be a good person, that you give a shit about what happens to the people at the hotel, but really no, it's all fake. REALLY fake.

you feel nothing.

and that terrifies him. He doesn't know how he acts around you. so Angel avoids you as much as he can, going near the fireplace since you don't like the heat, or near Husk.

he keeps making jokes at your expense, but it's really his way of handling the situation.

apart from the fact that Angel genuinely thinks you're pathetic, because you couldn't find any other way to enjoy your life and another life other than hurting people.

that's pathetic.

Yes, she won't let you be near the most vulnerable residents, like Niffty (when she's drunk) and she definitely won't let you be near Fatt Nuggets.

Try him and he will show you what he lived by while he was alive.

Niffty isn't scared of you in the slighleast.

In fact she is attracted to you on many levels, but Alastor will NEVER LET you be even a kilometer close to her in his presence.

In fact, there is a high possibility that you and her will secretly become friends, but Niffty better take care of herself around you.

She makes you use your ice powers so she can make things in the snow, snow angels, dolls, kill bugs with snow picks, etc.

she likes you and you like her :) surprisingly.

Sir Pentious is quite similar to Angel with you.

Sir Pentious is very aware of your reputation as a fearsome Overlord and definitely does not want to join the list of victims with his Eggboys, so he stays as far away from you as possible.

He has tried to make inventions resistant to your frozen currents, since it costs Charlie quite a few resources (because you don't pay a shit for what you break, you cheapskate) and certain artifacts that counteract your ice powers.

He brings several of his smoke machines to the hotel when he knows you're coming to visit (and if you come as a surprise, most likely everyone will hide in Pentious's warship because it's very hot in there.

Yes, he doesn't let his Ehgboys be near you in the slightest, he tells them horror stories with you like the big egg-eating monster.

and if you try something with his Minions PREPARE FOR THE DEATH RAY--

In general, you are a pain in the ass for everyone, everyone, always :)

^when they find out You come to visit

Thanks for the Request ❤️

#headcanons #fem reader #neutral reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #kny douma #hazbin hotel sir pentious

[aajjks]

Scream, Baby. (m)

synopsis. He had a lot of victims but unfortunately, you became the victim of his love.

pairing: yan!ghostface!jungkook x fem!reader.

warnings: YANDERE, extreme themes, horror, mentions of bl*od, killi*gs, m*rders, d-ad bodies, self h-rm, obsession, unstable behaviour, possessiveness, unhealthy way of “loving”, manipulation, triggering themes.

part of @taetaecherub’s fear festival! ^^ please check out the other fics as well, all of them are a treat!!! 😭🙏

note. HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS. the collab finally comes to an end 💔 I had so much fun with all of the girls and the fics???? Oh my gosh. I had the chance to work with so many amazing writers. thanks neon for hosting the collab. I Hope you all will love this, leave feedback please? ENJOY.

wc. roughly around 3k

*not edited*

taglist. [will be added later]

Spending his time with you was his favourite part of the day, Jungkook adored you so much, you were his favourite, his favourite person, You were his only best friend.

“Jungkook! Not again, seriously?!” You whined, your voice like honey to him, Jungkook turned his head to look at you sitting on the couch right beside him.

He smiled. “What Y/N?” He knew but he just loved to hear your voice, so much.

He watched you as you rolled your eyes at him, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile.

You were just so cute.

“Another horror movie?! Gosh! JK, I seriously don’t get your obsession with them!” Jungkook clicked his tongue, looking at you with a lazy gaze.

“You know I love them almost as much as I love you, sweetheart.” He winked, flirty tone dripping from his lips.

You suck your teeth in. “Ehh you’re so bad at flirting,” laughing, you grab the remote from his hands.

Catching him off guard.

“But first… I want to watch the news.” It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, not at you though, never you.

Just at the upcoming situation.

Jungkook sighed, watching you change channels after channels until you come across your favourite one.

Fuck.

“One body has been found at the downtown Derryviles alley, the victim has been unable to be identified due to the disfigured face.” The news reporters voice echoed in Jungkook’s ears, his eyes glued on the T.V screen.

He remembered that so clearly. How could he not? He never forgot.

“This is the 34th victim killed with the same pattern. An unknown knife type used to stab the victim 17 times in the gut and disfiguring of the face.”

You gasped.

“JUNGKOOK?!” The man almost jumped from the couch at your loud voice. He turned his head towards your direction.

Your E/C eyes filled with fear and shock, you look at him like he’s the one who’s done this.

He is the one.

“W-What Y/N?!” Jungkook stuttered, avoiding your eyes. It was like you could see right through him, it was like you could see all of the things he’d done that night.

“I-It happened near the café…kook.” Your tone was wavy, Jungkook’s eyes softened, you were scared.

You were scared of him.

“I-I can’t believe this…. Th-This psycho killer is absolutely nuts!” You bite your lip, if your expression wasn’t so lovely, he would feel a little insulted.

You wouldn’t understand him even if he told you.

“O-Oh my god…. W-What if that killer kills me next!!?”

“ARE YOU STUPID?!” Jungkook cut you off. He grabbed your body and shook your shoulders, his eyes were wide.

How could you even think that?

Jungkook stared deeply into your eyes, his gaze filled with a dark glint, he chewed on his lower lip. You noticed a change in his demeanour.

He was being weird.

“I’ll always protect you! N-Nothing will ever harm you- I-I won’t let it! Don’t worry!” He sighed deeply.

“Are you okay, kook?”

He blinked, “I-I just don’t want you to be scared, Y/N.” Jungkook smiled, his shoulders relaxed, you noticed. 

He was always a weirdo, you loved him for that. But his reaction was quite actually weird. But then again, it was your friend, jungkook.

“And didn’t you notice? Most of his victims are men anyways…. If anything? You need to protect me!” 

“literally shut the fuck up!” you both giggled together as the news anchors voice faded under the loud sound of your laughter, you punched him playfully and his giggles only became louder.

“UGH STOOOP!” You cried as he tickled you. “I-I UGH NEED T-TO TELL YOU SOMETHING PLEASE!” You giggled from the sensation.

“What?” He breathed heavily, his eyes crinkled from his expression. “Did you know a creep tried to hit on me at the coffee house?”

Jungkook stopped laughing.

“But y’know that coworker of mine? y’know the one I think hates my guts? Come on! You know his name is Yoongi!? He saved me and shooed the creep away….” You stretched your arms, getting up to sit on the couch.

You felt your friends gaze on you. “Ahhh don’t worry kook, Yoongi is pretty good at intimidating people…. He can be pretty scary…”

No response.

“Also shit!!! I have to meet up with Do-il! Come on let’s finish the movie so you won’t whine about how I don’t give you time anymore.”

“Y/N?” After what felt like eternity, Jungkook finally spoke, you hummed, opening Netflix to put on Jungkook’s favourite movie.

“We’ve literally watched this so- You love me more right?”

You halted your movements, the atmosphere of the room took a turn, Jungkook wasn’t kidding around, he sounded so serious,

Scared even.

“Of course kook, you’re my number 1.”

He’s my boyfriend, and you’re my best friend.

“Can’t you stay with me… tonight?”

“No I can’t, kook.”

Jungkook’s brain itched. He couldn’t see you with that loser any longer. That prick had to die.

Jeon Jungkook, your best friend hated your boyfriend, Do-il.

He was an insecure man, deeply so, he was naturally territorial of you, he didn’t like sharing his anything with anyone but you.

You.

You were always the exception. You never could truly understand your friend, why was he so attached to you? Maybe it could be because of his childhood?

You didn’t fully know it but you knew that Jungkook had some trauma because of it, as you finally walked out of Jungkook’s apartment, the cold breeze almost left you breathless.

It’s cold.

Unlike Jungkook’s apartment, you wondered as you walked. Today was awfully cold, and now you were going to meet your boyfriend at a random coffee place.

And tomorrow was Halloween. That was the only good thing awaiting you. You loved the season so much.

Your phone vibrated, taking your attention, you quickly took it out of the pocket of your coat and saw your aunts name flashing brightly.

Pressing on the green option, you pressed the phone into your ears.

“Aunt Hae-Soo!” There was some sniffling noises when you spoke into the phone, the sound continued and you were starting to get concerned. “Are you okay???”

“Y-Y/N! Dae and Han haven’t come home since almost a week! I-I even filed a police complaint b-but I’m so worried!” The woman on the other line cried as you walked to a quite spot,

Your heartbeat immediately dropped as you heard her.

they couldn’t-

“Aunt!! Please calm down….. I’ll try to call Dae… he always picks up…. Please don’t cry…” you almost cooed with a heavy heart.

How could this not be a big deal when there was a literal psycho serial killer on the loose?

“Please I-I am so worried, Y/N are you safe?!” Your aunt lived in another town, you didn’t want to worry her more.

Maybe she had seen the news.

But you were safe right?

“Y-Yes absolutely! Aunt Hae-Soo don’t worry… I’ll call dae but you please please take care of yourself!” You looked around to see some people on the road walking.

It was almost 7 pm.

“Okay dear but please let me know and you also stay safe… I saw the news about your town… oh Jesus…. What is wrong with this world.” Your aunt exclaimed.

You let out a laugh at her sentence.

“Don’t worry!”

The line finally went dead and you quickly made your way to the cafe.

Jungkook was almost losing control.

He couldn’t bear to look at the ugly asshole any longer, even behind the mask, it made his eyes itch just to look at his covered unconscious face.

His basement was dark, eerily so. Park Do-il was a shady man after all. Do-il didn’t deserve you, his best friend.

You deserved someone who worshipped you. Not an unfaithful ugly piece of shit guy.

Jungkook worshipped you. He loved you so much. He was so much better than this guy who lived in a shitty apartment with a creepy basement.

You deserved so much better than him.

“What does she even see in you?” Jungkook scoffed, talking to your unconscious boyfriend. He sucked in his breath,

Jealousy was burning inside him like an erupting volcano.

“first of all, you are ugly, you don’t like scary movies and…. You are an unfaithful asshole to my Y/N!”

He took out the familiar knife.

His beloved after you.

The buck 120 shined so brightly every time Jungkook used it. The silver was so beautiful, pointy.

It went into the guts of people so smoothly. He cherished it so much.

“Ahhh finally I can kill you and have my Y/N all to myself.” Jungkook giggled, “you can’t even protect her, unlike me. You know what I did to that bastard who tried to harass my girl?” Jungkook glanced at the knife, lowering it to do-il’s abdomen.

Twisting it so deeply inside his gut that it made a cringey noise.

Seeing the way the knife pierced directly into his skin made jungkook feel so excited, it was the first time he was killing one of his victims without his mask.

“I twisted the knife so deeply into his heart almost like this. that fucking asshole screamed so loud, gosh!” Jungkook continued.

He bit his lip as he pulled the knife out and in, repeatedly. so fast that the blood slashed on his face.

Jungkook hated messing around but right now? This was almost orgasmic. He was thinking about you.

Ways to console you, his plan was almost complete. You were going to be his forever.

“I’d love to ruin your fucking face but then my Y/N would get suspicious…. She’s so smart… my precious girl….” Jungkook cooed to the unmoving body.

“Fuck yes! You are finally dead.” Jungkook checked his wrist and sighed in delight.

“I never wanted to give you a quick death but to have Y/N… I had to.”

“Now I’ll just have to wait for her to reach your apartment.” He kissed the knife, the blood stained his lips.

“As she should be, by now.” Jungkook aimed the knife towards his arm. “Now to make my plan successful, I’ll have to stab myself.” He swiped the dangerously pointy knife across his right arm.

“It doesn’t hurt that much, surprisingly.” He shrugged, repeating the same thing right across his abdomen, making sure to look convincing for you to believe his,

Bullshit story.

“Baby…. You will finally be mine…”

You felt like crying.

Being stood up for the sixth time by your boyfriend was embarrassing to say the least, there was a serial killer on the loose, your cousins were lost and It’s Halloween eve and you are crying while standing at your joke of a boyfriends door.

“Open the door, do-il!” You softly knock on the door, trying to control your emotions. Your heart broke, how could he do this to you?!

You knocked again and again.

Until it opened. A hand came out of the door and pulled you in before you could even say anything.

“Do-il you ass! What are you doing!?” You cried as the hand pushed you into his home.

The light bulb made it easier for you to see the man standing so close to you and you gasped.

“J-Jungkook?!?” You almost screamed but the guy hushed you. You looked up and down to take notice of his appearance and a shriek left you.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU??! A-AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN DO-IL’S APARTMENT?!?”

You were so confused now, what the fuck was wrong with today?? “Y-Y/N hush! Come on. I-I have to show you something!”

Jungkook took you towards the staircase to your boyfriends basement, this was beyond freaky, “where the hell is Do-il?” The man didn’t leave your hand. You looked at Jungkook’s dirty clothes, dirt everywhere. His arm was bleeding furiously.

Just what the hell had happened here?

“Jungkook you’re bleeding!” This was concerning, your heartbeat was dropping as jungkook and you entered the basement.

His hand left yours as you stood in the dark until jungkook turned on the light switch.

The light was bright on your eyes, you blinked twice.

“What the hell.” You cursed as you tried to open them. Your eyes were sensitive, as your vision cleared.

And your knees started to shake, the view infront of you made your world crumble.

“W-Who’s that…” you saw a body in a black cloak, the face was barely covered by a weird face on the mask.

“Go ahead, and see for yourself.” Jungkook didn’t look at you but his gaze was set ahead on the body.

“Go Y/N.” Jungkook urged you on, taking your hand in his once again, your feet taking you near the body.

There was blood oozing out of it.

“J-Jungkook…” you stuttered with fear, the bile in your throat was rising, “this is the serial killer.”

“Park Do-il aka the psycho killer who killed so many people.”

Your brain registered his words, but your body paralysed with shock, goosebumps on your skin rose.

“I got a text about two hours ago… with an unregistered number with this address and a question from a horror movie quiz.”

You listened and listened, your lips sealed, this was crazy, this couldn’t be true.

“I came here because I knew this was your boyfriends house… but as soon as I entered? He attacked me.”

Jungkook stole a glance at you, you were petrified, the colour from your face disappeared.

He felt bad.

“B-But hes t-the one that’s d-dead!”

Jungkook chewed on his inner cheek to stop his frustration from building up, you were so annoyingly smart.

He loved you for that.

“Exactly. He attacked me- he was acting crazy he was going on about how he thought you were cheating on him with me- h-he wanted to kill me and you!”

Jungkook made sure to conceal his tone into one of fear. “H-He even confessed to killing that guy you told me a about! He’s crazy Y/N,

It was all his plan… he was going to kill you- I-I had to protect you.” Jungkook was a good actor. The tears came out so easily as he hiccuped.

“H-How could not have known that he was behind all of this?!” Jungkook grabbed your busy, his hands on your shoulders.

His heart hammered so loudly. “I-I c-can’t believe this…. D-Do-il was the killer all along?”

Jungkook wanted to kiss the tears away from your eyes, his plan was almost successful. “Y-Yes! Even I was shocked! I had to kill him before he could kill you Y/N!”

“Don’t scream, baby… it’s okay… I got you. I love you Y/N… I’m sorry I had to kill him.” Jungkook pulled you in for a hug.

Breathing so deeply into your embrace.

“I-I…. thank God you’re safe, kook.” You wrapped your arms around him. “Let’s g-go from here…”

“You did the right thing by killing this psycho bastard…He deserved to die.”

Yes, my 35th and final victim.

Your eyes traveled towards the silver bloodied knife, it was the same one from Jungkook’s apartment.

A buck 120.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #yandere ghostface #bts yandere #yandere smut #yandere x reader #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bangtan fic #jungkook fic #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk smut #yandere jjk #jjk smut #yandere au #ghostface #yandere kpop #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jjk x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #ghostface smut #yandere horror #ghostface!jungkook

[drabblesandimagines]

[400 requests] congrats btw!! i adore how you write for joshua so may i ask for a joshua rosfield x reader.. extremely tooth rooting fluff.. kinda domestic fluff as well.. just a soft morning with joshua.. literally can be anything! from in bed or a nice stroll around the hideway.. a picnic breakfast somewhere.. anything!

Thank you, anon! I hope you enjoy this one. I feel I can't help but write Joshua so suave. Please, please drop me an inbox to let me know what you think x

Lazy Mornings Joshua Rosfield x reader, fluff

You cannot pinpoint exactly when it had started – hazy memories of your eyes meeting his blue ones across the sanctum, followed by deliberated brushing touches, chance meetings in the library at late hours turning into deliberate meetings in the Phoenix's bed chambers. Joshua had been away for a few weeks, conducting research, and you’d been worried in his absence. As he and Jote had returned the previous evening, his eyes had only met yours for a moment but you didn’t need words to know what he was after, and so you had snuck into his chambers later that night with all intentions of slipping out before the morning had come…

You wake up, slowly at first. You’re warm, relaxed and content, but the feeling is swiftly lost when you clock that the sun is a little too high in the sky for your liking and you need to get moving. Preparing to roll out the bed, you find two arms determined to keep you held snugly in place. You tut, taking hold of one and tug in an attempt to move it, but the limb holds stubbornly firm, though you cannot miss the flicker of a smile on your captor’s face.

“Joshua…”

Silence – his blonde hair mussed up around him as he lays on the pillow, almost angelic.

“Joshua.”

Nothing – obviously determined to keep up his pretense.

“I know you are awake, Joshua.”

He nuzzles his head into your neck then, making you squirm a little as it tickles. “No, I am not.”

“You have never been one to talk in your sleep, so I disagree.” You tug again, but his arm remains heavy in place. “I need to go.”

“Mm. You do not.” His eyes remain closed, determinedly so.

“I do, though”, you stress again, trying to sit up to see if that will help you gain some leverage. “I’ve stayed too late.”

“Not late enough. Go back to sleep – you’re still tired too, sweet one.”

You’re glad his eyes are still closed as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks from his term of endearment and sigh – dramatically so - before dropping back against the many pillows that adorn the Phoenix’s bed. “You are being a little childish.”

Joshua opens his eyes then, looks up at you with a coy smile. “Mayhaps I would admit a little bit of selfishness, but why are you in such a rush to leave me?”

“That’s not fair,” you protest at his wording. “You know I wish to stay, but if Master Cyril were to catch me in here, he’d…” You trail off. You can’t comprehend what he might do, to be honest, but it wouldn’t be anything good. Of course, Cyril isn’t blind to the looks that you and Joshua share across chambers, but it was only mere speculation on his part – nothing that he could note down in his work of the Phoenix’s life and duties.

“Cyril would not dare to enter my private chambers without permission.” He sits up, though keeping his hold firm on you as he does – afraid you might vanish from his sight if he does not.

“But he will surely visit them to check on your hea-”

Warm lips cut you off mid-word. Your eyes meet Joshua’s blue ones, yours wide with surprise as he closes his, places a palm on your cheek to coax you to reciprocate his kiss. You close your eyes then, careful to exhale through your nose, and kiss back, matching his pace. Moments pass as you settle into a steady rhythm, but something pushes you forward, placing a hand on his thigh, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip and-

Three knocks at the door in a familiar pattern.

You jerk out of the kiss in alarm, almost toppling off the bed itself were it not for Joshua’s quick reflexes pulling you back towards him.

“Who is it?” He calls, smiling at you all the while.

“It is I, Cyril, Your Grace.”

“One moment.”

You look around the chambers in alarm – the window is too small to crawl through, the door is the only exit you have, but that’s right through the thoroughfare of the sanctum at this hour, not to mention the man standing at the other side of it. “Joshua, what do we do?”

“I will deal with it. You, however, should lie back, relax…” he whispers, pushing you down gently, kissing your forehead, “..and stay quiet.” He gets to his feet then, throwing the soft red knitted blanket over you, before you hear his soft footsteps head over to the door, the oak creaking as he opens it enough for him to pop his head out to greet the Bearer of the Burning Quill.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but as I had not seen you this morn I wanted to check everything was all right.”

“Fine, Cyril. I am just a little weary after the last few days of travel – I think I will take today to rest if matters can wait.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” Cyril nods, though steps to the side a little, trying to see behind the Phoenix. “Would you like me to send for Lady Jote to assist you?”

“No, no - that is quite unnecessary,” Joshua waves off, “I know she is tired from our travels also. If you could arrange for some sustenance to be sent up so I can break my fast, that would be appreciated.”

“At once, Your Grace. Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you, Cyril.”

Cyril bows, takes a step back and the door is swiftly shut behind him.

You feel the mattress dip besides you before the blanket is pulled down from over your face – a boyish grin on Joshua’s face. “See? The day is ours.”

You stare up at him, your heart pounding from your nerves – realizing what had scared you so. It wasn’t so much being caught by Cyril, but the idea of being caught and forbidden from seeing Joshua again.

“Have I lost you, sweet one?” The Phoenix questions, laying down besides you, tilting your chin to meet your gaze.

“I love you.”

The smile on Joshua’s face is as bright as the sun in the sky.

“I love you more.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #joshua rosfield x female reader #joshua rosfield x you #joshua rosfield x reader

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree 🌳 • Part 3

3/6

(gif by @basilone)

Rosie invites Y/N to London for the weekend.

warnings: none, except lots of fluff <3

thank you to my darling friends @sagesolsticewrites & @ginabaker1666 for reading this multiple times over the past week. so grateful for you both ily.

The sun has finally parted through the clouds and covered Thorpe Abbotts in a luscious golden warmth with a slight breeze underneath it, whooshing through the thick green leaves, leaving a feeling of refreshment as you walk through it. You're happy that the weather has chosen to behave itself for once and you're finally able to enjoy it, due to it being a Bank Holiday weekend.

Your lazy Friday morning consists of sitting in your favorite armchair, still in your pajamas, hair still in their curlers, sipping a warm cup of tea and flipping through the latest issue of your favorite magazine. You remain in this blissful daze, turning pages and sipping in this deliciously cozy cornucopia you've entwined yourself into, until you hear a sharp rap on your door. Expecting it to be Mrs Howell from next door, clutching her flour box in the hopes of stealing a scoop or two from your bag to make her famous rock cakes, you answer the door without a second thought to your appearance.

On your wonky slate doorstep is Rosie, looking extremely handsome - as usual - in his dress uniform, the green coloring of it perfectly suited to his brown hair, which in the glow of the sun, you can see shining, a few red hints coming through it. You feel your eyes widen as you look down at yourself, suddenly embarrassed.

“Hi, sweetheart,” He says enthusiastically. He steps over the threshold and plants a kiss on what it meant to be your cheek but is more towards the corner of your mouth. You don't mind. You, in fact, reciprocate, your mouth absentmindedly pouting near his ear, making a kissing sound but making no contact with his face. “My, don't you look wonderful this morning. Fresh as a daisy.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks reddening.

“Hi, Rosie,” you reply sweetly, pulling him into your living room. “Tea? The pot is still warm.”

“Yes, please.”

---

After you're both settled with warm mugs in your hands, sitting in opposite armchairs, you lean your head on your hand and stare at him with a soft look in your eyes, your elbow on the arm of the chair to keep balance. “This is a nice surprise,” you say sweetly. “What's it in aid of?”

“I got a weekend pass and I'm going to London. I'd like you to come with me.”

“Rosie, I–” you stutter, mulling over his offer.

“Come on, Y/N,” He urges. “I want to take you dancing, and show you good jazz music.” He smiles broadly, his eyes growing wider with each word. You bite your lip in pretend consideration, humming a little, his face suddenly bearing an expression of suspense. “Rosie, I'd love to,” you laugh. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Then you'd better go ahead and pack,” he laughs.

---

You keep up the coziness on the train. Sitting opposite one another, you both read companionably, exchanging passages every so often. Soon enough, Rosie stops reading his book altogether, his head resting on the back of his seat. “Will you read to me?” He sees your eyes light up at his request, and he smiles softly. “Of course,” you reply, clearing your throat. “How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't.”

As you keep reading, you find your legs draped over his, his big, lovely hand upon where your Bobby sock sits, peeking out of your patent shoe. You sit like that, his hand stroking your leg ever so delicately, his fingers dancing over your skin as you watch him drift off to sleep. Suddenly, the brave man you'd been spending time with is replaced by a vulnerable little boy who needed a bedtime story to fall asleep to. Feeling your heart melt a little, you close the book as silently as possible, and watch him sleep as the countryside zooms by the window.

---

Ever the gentleman, Rosie had escorted you to your hotel room before going upstairs to his own. The room was surprisingly spacious: a large queen bed, a couch and a small desk tucked in next to a large window. You could imagine that pre-wartime, that the view would have been something to sit and gaze at. However, the window only showed you crumbled buildings below, people sifting through pieces of what used to be their home, discarding whole bricks into wheelbarrows and continuing the search for their belongings, under a cloudless blue sky that doesn't seem to fit the melancholia below it. The place is eerily silent, the only noise breaking through being an occasional birdsong.

---

Rosie had told you to be ready for 7pm. You'd napped in the lovely big bed, taking a boiling hot shower right after. Your usual bath time at the cottage looked a lot different: warming up water in a large pot over the roaring fire to dump into your copper tub. Hair washing was done over the sink, your back aching to place your head under the taps. A shower was a luxury, and you definitely took advantage of being able to wash your hair and body in the same place.

You glance at the clock after finishing up your makeup: 6.55pm. You feel nerves bubbling up inside of you as you place a yellow swing dress over your head, fumbling with the buttons as you will your hands to stop shaking. The sharp rap of knuckles on the door shocks you out of your anxious daze, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Rosie's mouth opens to say hello, but the words seem to get stuck in his throat. His baby blue eyes soften at the sight of you, his mouth slightly agape. “Woah, Y/N,” his voice just above a whisper. He shakes his head, awestruck, seemingly trying to find words.

“What? This old thing?” you smile demurely, feeling your cheeks turning pink at the way he's looking at you. He breathes out, puffing his cheeks a little.

“You look beautiful,” He says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek. “What a privilege it is to have you on my arm.”

---

The buzz of music hits you the second you walk into the dark club, horns blaring so loudly that you have to shout in one another's ears. Placing his hat down on an empty table, he offers you his hand, and immediately spins you on to the dance floor.

Spectacularly unfit and feet aching, you sit and watch Rosie dance with as many pretty dames that can get their hands on him. Taking such pleasure in watching him spin these girls off their feet, you sit and watch him intently, heat rising through your body. Not totally sure what this sensation is, you try to push it aside - but you're done for the second you see him smile, his eyes wrinkling as he dances to the music, totally in his element.

Each girl finishes the dance by kissing him on the cheek, one even planting a smooch on his mouth that catches him by total surprise, his eyes widening. You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand as he walks over from the bar, clutching a martini for him and an Old Fashioned for you.

“That sure was…something,” he says, his eyes darting nervously towards you. You laugh again, and cup his cheek to get him to look at you, then pulling his ear towards your mouth.

“I don't blame them one bit, Robert,” you smile into him, both hands now on his cheek. “Pretty dames like handsome men.” He pulls away, smiling sweetly at you, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the club. You both grin at each other like that for a moment, before he gestures for your ear.

“Maybe,” He pauses, swallowing. “But you're the only pretty dame I want kissing me.” Words caught in your throat, you lean over into the small space between you and kiss him on the cheek. A slower song starts, Rosie pulling you to your feet once again.

“Heaven, I'm in heaven,

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.

I seem to find the happiness I seek,

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

You're not sure who moves first, but you don't seem to care. Noses touching as your faces move closer together, when, finally, his mouth is capturing yours. Your hand leaves his shoulder and gently toys with the curls on the back of his neck, his plush lips moving in sync with yours sends butterflies through your entire body. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand cupping your cheek with his thumb stroking it softly. You both break apart with a sigh, noses rubbing slightly.

“Oh, Rosie,” you whisper as the song concludes, him unable to hear it but reading your lips. He takes your hand and kisses it, leading you out of the building.

---

There's a silence between you as you wander down the quiet street, hand in hand. You shiver slightly, the chill of the night air shocking you a little. Without missing a beat, Rosie peels off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, the warmth enveloping you straight away, his sweet floral scent emanating from it. He takes your hand once again, thumbs stroking at each other's hands. A small, sweet gesture that seems to say “I'm here. I'm safe. I'm happy.”

The mixture of the freezing night air, the alcohol and the feeling of Rosie's hand in yours sends your senses haywire. Before you can think, you pull him into a dark doorway and kiss him deeply. He reciprocates immediately, as if he'd had the same idea but was too nervous to follow through with it. Breaths mingling, you pull on his tie to get him impossibly closer, your bodies flush against one another's. His hands in your hair, yours on either side of his face…it's magical. Nothing has ever felt this good before, and you feel your toes curl as he moans into you, somehow trying to make the kiss even deeper.

“Oh, darling,” you murmur as you break apart. His pretty blue eyes lock on yours as he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for just a second.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything, Rosie,” you reply, leaning in to kiss him once again. He kisses your mouth three times before having you look at him.

“Will you be my girl? I know it's a little quick but–” You silence him with another kiss, smiling as your lips touch again.

“Yes, darling. Yes a million times.”

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal fic #rosie rosenthal x reader #rosie rosenthal x oc

[veeisgayasf]

Could I please request a Larissa X reader where they are both just chilling reading by the fire when Wednesday and Enid burst in destroying the one day off they have been able to share together in a couple weeks and Larissa just very lovely and sternly tells them to get tf out and go bother someone else but her office is open tomorrow if they wish to come back and r is just sitting there trying to die from laughter?

Thank you so much for this request. It is such a fun and cute idea and I absolutely loved writing this! I hope you like it!

A Day Off Larissa x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, FLUFF. Cuteness overload.

Word count: 900+

You sat on the couch with your legs draped across Larissa's lap, finally relaxing together. It was the first time you both had the same day off in over two weeks. The fire was flickering brightly, the warmth enveloping you both. Larissa had asked you earlier in the day if you wanted to stop by her office and spend some quality time together. You obliged happily.

You had fought your feelings towards Larissa all through the summer as you both formed a strong friendship. Scared to ruin what you had, you tried keeping your thoughts to yourself but ended up confessing to her that you found her stunning and enjoyed her company. To your surprise, she felt the same. After that, you two were inseparable. 

Larissa had a contented smile on her face as she turned the page of the book she was lost in. One hand came down to draw lazy circles on your lower leg. You sighed in contentment. No one really got to see this side of her, the caring soft side, so you felt extremely lucky to be at the receiving end of it. You reveled in moments like these, as they did not happen often. Once the school year started, you were both swamped with paperwork and meetings. 

You went back to the book you were reading, picking up where you left off. You had probably read the same sentence at least five times, unable to fully focus. Your mind was distracted by the soft stroke of Larissas fingers against your bare skin. The shivers that ran up your leg caused goosebumps to form all over your body. The effect this woman had on you was intense, but not nearly as intense as the love you had for her. The slight smirk on her face made you realize that she was purposely distracting you, a distraction you gladly welcomed. 

Just as you were finally comprehending what you were reading, you both heard shuffling outside the office door. Larissa sat her book down, raising her head up with an inquisitive look on her face. She turned to you and you shrugged your shoulders, unsure of who could be outside her office at this hour. The door came flying open and in walked Enid and Wednesday. “Miss Weems!” They both said in unison. “We need your help deciphering what these symbols mean in this book.” Enid held the book up as she walked closer to you both. “Hello y/n.” Wednesday said without blinking. You smiled in response.

“Miss Addams, Miss Sinclair. You both know that there is such a thing as knocking, correct?” Larissa asked rhetorically, pulling your legs up off her lap as she stood up. You whined at the absence of her contact. “Yes, but Miss Weems, this is important.” Enid said with puppy dog eyes. “We need to figure this out right now.” Wednesday deadpanned. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait for an appropriate hour.” Larissa quipped, towering over the two girls as she ushered them to the door. You stayed seated, pulling your legs up under yourself. You had a feeling this was going to be entertaining.

“Y/n, please tell her this is important!” Enid almost sounded desperate. “Enid-” you tried responding, but Larissa cut you off. “Miss Addams. Miss Sinclair. I understand the importance of trying to figure this out, but this is the first evening I have had off in over two weeks.” She sounded rather annoyed and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. You always found her adorable when she was annoyed, but you would never tell her that. “If you could just tell us what this me-” Wednesday attempted to talk, but once again Larissa cut in. “That’s enough Miss Addams.” She said sternly. “You and Miss Sinclair need to, and I mean this in the most loving way, GET OUT.” 

If you could have taken a picture of Enid and Wednesday at that moment, you would have. Their eyes went wide and their mouths dropped at those last two words. You had to hide your face to keep from laughing. Larissa gestured her hand to the door, trying to get the girls to leave. The look on her face was priceless. “If you two would like to come back in the morning, I will gladly help you decipher the symbols, but at this moment, my charity has its limits.” She was so stern.

Enid and Wednesday both continued whining to no avail. Finally, they gave up and walked to the door, looking back at you. You lost it at that moment and let out the built up laugh you had tried hiding. Larissa snapped her head in your direction giving you a threatening look which only caused you to laugh harder. She shut the door behind the two girls and turned, making her way back over to where you were sitting.

You were cracking up hard and couldn’t contain your laughter. The look on Larissas face would have intimidated you if it weren't for the fact that it was so damn adorable. She plopped down beside you, nudging your shoulder as she did. “You think that's funny, do you?” she questioned with a small smile creeping up on her face. “Actually, I do. Watching those two trying to get you to crack is not only adorable but funny as hell.” You said, between giggles. Larissa reached over and pulled you closer, planting small kisses all along your face while tickling your sides. You squealed trying to escape her grasp. “Here, let me give you something to laugh about.” Larissa said as she let out the cutest giggle.

In that moment, you knew this was the woman you were going to spend the rest of your life with and in that exact moment, Larissa knew you were the woman she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

#larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #fluff and comfort #cuteness overload #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #fanfiction #first request #loved this

[dejinerate]

His Muse

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Brief summary: Hyunjin has a *special* art project in mind with you, and he needs your help desperately.

Story contains: explicit sexual themes, brat, dom, self recording

Rating: SMUT, MA

18+/MINORS DNI

It’s a lazy afternoon, a warm and slow Autumn day. Your eyelids start to close as you rest on the couch, waiting to succumb to the nap that’s about to overtake you. Today was such a cozy day. No tasks needing done, no plans for once, and no chores needing completed. It would’ve been a perfect day…  Except Hyunjin wasn’t here. Early in the morning, he said he had to run a few errands, but… he was far too excited when he said that. You decided to let him have his fun though, seeing that excitement means whatever it is, is important. Noticing he was in a rush, you didn't ask any questions. He kissed your cheek and practically ran out the door.

 “I’ll be back soon, I promise!! Wait for me!” 

It was getting close to evening. You don’t usually worry about him, he texts you if something is wrong. You sigh, shifting your position on the couch and ready to take a short nap, as that would make time pass by quicker. 

Your phone pings. 

“I’m headed home, I’m so sorry I took so long! I have so much to show you! Get dressed. I have a surprise.”

A surprise? Well, surprises are always welcome.  You text him back:

“What’s the theme for the evening? You always know what’s best to pick.” 

The response is almost instant and your phone pings, but this time, it's an audio message. You listen to him speak as you can hear his fast footsteps,

“Wear that one dress I love so much, baby. I have an idea. Can you wear a robe over it, though? I'll explain why when I get there. I just.. won't be able to focus.. and I need to focus, I need your help with something. Please do as I say and be good for me.. I know you wanna tease me, brat. And trust me, it always fucking works... You drive me crazy. This is important to me though. Behave for me, just this once? ” 

You huff at his response but bite your lip, knowing he’s right. He knows you so well though, he knows how much you enjoy teasing him while you wear that dress. You think about disobeying, but.. , he really does seem excited about something, and you want him to have his fun, too. He never really pleads like this. Mentioning that it was important to him means serious business.

“I’ll behave, Hyun.” you text back.

Another audio message pops up.

“Good girl. I’ll be home in 20 minutes.”

Well, so much for napping. That woke you right up as if you just chugged an entire vat of coffee. Excited, you rush to the bedroom, immediately knowing the dress he spoke of. He always had such good taste in fashion. He frequently would give suggestions for what to wear and would help you choose outfits, and he often liked to match you in colors and styles when you went out together. You trust his judgment when he tells you to put something on. He knows your body and what looks good clinging on your curves. You find the garment, a cream colored silk dress with tiny straps, that bows at the cleavage, and clings at the hips. The way the fabric shifts in the light looks like flowing liquid. It’s such a luxurious piece. It’s a show stopping high end designer brand dress that Hyunjin bought you for your first anniversary. He spoils you so much, but he especially spoiled you that day. The dress wasn’t cheap by any means. After an entire day of making meaningful memories, you went shopping together, and he was the one that spotted the dress and picked it out. As soon as he saw it on you, he told you to get changed, knowing you didn’t need to try on anything else. He’s been obsessed with it ever since. He makes sure it’s well taken care of, as it always gets professionally dry cleaned after it’s been worn. 

 It’s such a flattering shape. It really highlights the plumpness of your chest, the curve of your ass, and the dips of your hips. It’s… extremely short. It rests right below the bottom of your cheeks. When you wear this in public, Hyunjin likes to drape whatever coat he’s wearing on your shoulders, claiming you as his. He finds a lot of satisfaction seeing you in that provocative dress with his jacket, which is far too big on you. His protective instincts kick in, knowing how gorgeous you are. Don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves showing you off in public, knowing how good the two of you look together. But this dress is his weakness. This is a dress he only lets you wear when he reserves an entire restaurant for a private dining experience. He wants to be the only one to see you this way, and he’s extremely possessive when you wear it. It’s surprising he hasn’t done any damage to it yet. Just thinking about what the night could possibly entail leaves you so pleasantly anxious. You feel your stomach fluttering, knowing he’ll be driven mad over the sight of you soon. 

As you slip the dress on, a thought comes to you. Though you have to wear a robe when he gets home, he never said anything about…. Underwear. You giggle to yourself, and take off both the bra and panties you usually wear for this. He can suffer tonight. You’ll make sure of that. Satisfied with your choice, you grab your house robe and put it on, then get to work on your hair and make up. You curl your long hair with just a few waves, and you keep it nice and soft and elegant with the make up look, nothing too dark. While you’re putting on the finishing touches of mascara, you hear the door open.

“Baby, c’mere!” 

Your heart leaps at the happiness in his voice, and you run to the living room to greet him.

He has lots of bags in his hands, but also has a camera strapped around his neck. You don’t remember him leaving home earlier with a camera… 

You give him a quick kiss to greet him, and he puts the bags down on the dining table. 

“So, I got an email this morning that the brand new camera I’ve been waiting for was finally in stock! It was at that one store down the street that we went to that one time, they have so many cool lenses… I picked up a new wide angle lens. I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to try it out. I've been running around the city all day, taking photos… I can’t wait to show you and see what you think. I took quite a few that you’d like. Oh! After I got done taking photos, I went to the art store on the way home and bought more canvases! I think i’m going to try acrylic or watercolor paint this time, but I couldn't decide, so I kinda went overboard and bought everything…” 

You giggle at him, he’s truly nerding out right now, and you love that he can show you his excitement over his hobbies. You both are artists, so it’s a shared love that you two bond over. You mainly do photography, while his normal medium is painting and sketching. He recently got into photography, so to see him so inspired to create art just melts you. Hyunjin glows when his face shows he loves doing something. 

“I’m happy for you, Hyunnie. I bet you took some amazing photos today.” 

After he’s taken the camera off his neck and set it down, he walks towards you and wraps you in his warm embrace. He smells like.. the smell of outside. He smells like the scent of leaves and crisp Autumn air. You embrace him in return, and he puts a hand on your cheek and starts giving you happy little kisses as he mumbles against your lips.

“I-” kiss  “have-” kiss  “an-”  kiss “-idea.” 

You laugh at his assault of kisses, returning his enthusiasm. 

“Tell me, I’ve been dying to hear.” 

He pulls away from your lips as he holds you around your waist. He’s gazing intently at your face, looking at your eyes. He looks a little nervous now. 

“I want to photograph you tonight. It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten to be creative together. I want to paint the pictures I take of you.” 

You smile back at him, “That sounds like a ton of fun actually, where do you wanna go? The leaves are so pretty this time of year, the reds and oranges just now started to show, we could go to the park…”

“No,” he interrupts you, “we’re not leaving the house tonight.” 

Oh.

He continues, “I want to photograph you… in the shower. With that dress on. The new lens I bought is perfect for water shots.” 

Oh. 

The look in his eyes is pleading. That definitely took you by surprise. He must really want this. He doesn’t really ever ask you for anything, he’s usually carefree about choices between you two and if you say yes or no to ideas. But… he must be craving this. You never know how an artist will envision a scene. It seems like he’s been envisioning this, a lot, and the desire is blatantly apparent in his eyes as they search for your answer. He notices you hesitating.  

“I’ll buy that dress again for you, I promise. Ask me for anything. It’s yours. Please do this for me, baby. I need to paint how beautiful you are.” 

Well fuck, when he puts it that way, how can you say no? He asked so nicely, too. 

“Let’s do it, Hyunnie. You’ll have to direct me though, okay? I want you to get the right shot.” 

His face lights up and he swiftly picks you up, you shriek at the surprise and your legs automatically lock around his waist so you’re held securely. His large hands support your legs while he carries you to the bathroom, as he’s profusely thanking you for being open minded to the idea of being so vulnerable in front of the camera for him.

He sets you down on your feet in the bathroom and says, “Now turn the shower on for me, my gorgeous girl. Go ahead and take the robe off. I’m gonna go grab the camera, and grab the music speaker as well. We should play some music, maybe it’ll help us both relax.” He scurries off, and you giggle at his chaotic retreat. You do as he says though, shrugging off the robe as you turn the shower on. It can’t get too steamy in the bathroom, or else it’ll fog the lens, so you leave the water on lukewarm. The main bathroom of the home is huge, it’s actually quite gorgeous. The walls are white and the flooring is white tile as well. The lights in the room create a warm glowing ambience, and there’s large windows right before the view of the shower.. The shower itself has clear glass shower doors, and is big and spacious. There’s a huge tub in here as well, with enough room for two. Golden hour lighting is currently filtering into the room, the sunset beginning to peak outside. 

Hyunjin comes back in the bathroom, concentrated on setting up the equipment. He looks up at you, finally seeing you in the dress. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes slowly drifting up and down on your body, head to toe. His eyes rest on your breasts. They widen in realization. He knows you aren’t wearing a bra underneath… You tease him.

“I’m not wearing panties, either.” 

He makes eye contact with you. His gaze is full of heat, and you see him blush. He looks away, a little embarrassed that he's already getting worked up so easily, and has to push down the growth currently happening in his pants. “Fuck, You little brat... You had to go and tease me already, huh?." He looks at you again, biting his lip. "This is gonna be…. difficult for me.” He swallows, you can tell he's struggling while he's trying to gain self control.

You smirk at him. 

“Good.” 

He groans. 

You turn around and walk towards the shower, waiting patiently for his instructions. You look at him, tilting you head with feigned innocence and ask,

“Are we ready to get started, Hyunjinnie?”

 He loves that specific nickname. You know this. You wanted him to suffer tonight, afterall.

He lets out a frustrated breath, and mutters, "Ugh, fuck..." he sits on his chair and closes his eyes, bringing his hand up to his face to hide it from view, seemingly at war with himself.

He commands, quietly, "Don’t step in yet. Come here for a second, baby.” 

You smirk and obey for once, and he beckons you to sit on his lap. He envelops your frame, his large hands gliding along the silk dress, relishing the feel of the fabric under his fingers. He reaches for your face, one hand on the back of your neck and the other cupping your cheek as he pulls you in for a hot, lingering kiss. You whimper at the intensity of his desire, you can tell how bad he’s already burning for you. His head dips down to your neck, and he languidly kisses it with an open mouth, his tongue brushing against your skin. He kisses his way close to your ear and whispers, “Thank you for doing this, sweetheart. You’re gonna do so good for me, I can already tell… you're too beautiful, you know that? My gorgeous, perfect baby...”  His voice is low and deep, and the heat between your legs aches. You can tell how aroused he is, you feel him hard and hot through his pants as you sit on his lap. You groan in response, ready to just forget the entire photoshoot, but he gently kisses your neck for one last time before pulling away. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” 

Head hazy, you nod and shakily stand back up. 

“I’m gonna miss that dress” he whispers.

You laugh, knowing how conflicted he must be that this will most likely ruin such an expensive, delicate piece of clothing. He must've been saying his final goodbyes to it while you were on his lap.

You nervously step into the shower, and he starts up some music. He turns on some slow, seductive tunes. You understand the mood he’s trying to go for. He wants sensual. 

“Tell me what to do, Jinnie.” You say quietly.

His voice is gentle. “Alright pretty girl, go ahead and step under the stream with just the dress.. Hold off on dipping your hair and face, let’s keep that dry just for the time being.” 

You obey and follow his direction, and the water hits the silk dress. The fabric immediately clings to your body, the light cream color of the dress turning completely transparent as it gets wet. Goosebumps show up on your skin at the change in temperature, and you feel your nipples harden under the wet silk. You pose for him and look directly at the camera, and you can see him peek up from the camera to look at you, in awe of the beautiful image in front of him. You look like a marble statue of a goddess, the way the fabric clings onto you, the water accentuating every detail of you. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous. All for me. So fucking gorgeous.... I’ll never get enough of you.” 

He shifts around the glass doors, getting the shots he wants as he directs you to tilt your head, raise your arms, close your eyes… 

You get fully immersed in the mood, the creativity affecting you, no longer feeling nervous or shy. You slip the straps of the dress off your shoulders and look up at him through the camera, keeping your face as sultry as possible. The shutter clicks away as he goads you on with encouragement. Feeling satisfied with those shots, you ask him, 

“Should I dip my head now?” 

“Yes, love. God, please do.” 

You slowly place your head under the stream of the showerhead, as the water drips down your face and hair. It finally hits you mentally, how erotic this is, how incredibly sensual and hot this is, and you feel so completely powerful in this moment. Your eyes lock on Hyunjin through the glass door, and he can tell immediately that your energy has changed. Your gaze is burning with fire. You smirk at him, and your hands glide slowly down your body to touch yourself on top of the soaked dress. 

Hyunjin forgets he has a camera for a moment, entranced by your movements. He can’t look away. He stumbles a bit which makes him remember he’s supposed to be taking photos, and reorients himself, knowing he has to capture the moment correctly. He praises you.

“That’s it baby, that’s my perfect girl. Get into it. You know how fucking hot you are, don’t you? Be a pretty little slut for daddy. You do such a good job for me, my little brat.”

Ah. The magic words. 

You moan and close your eyes as one hand touches your breast, while the other hand drifts down to your aching heat. You arch against the glass shower wall, giving him a full view. Your hair is chaotic, strands of it plastered on your face and your shoulders, and you feel suffocated. 

You need to be naked. There’s too much on you. You need to take it off. Right now. 

Knowing he’s had enough shots of the dress, you grab the hem of the dress, and start to peel the fabric off of you, grimacing at just how stuck it is on your body. You finally pull it over your head and drop the dress on the shower floor. Finally free of the fabric, you tilt your head back under the shower, letting the water cascade again over your long hair and fully exposed body. You prop yourself up against the wall and pose beautifully, but there's no sound of the camera clicking.

You look at Hyunjin, and the poor man looks so dazed. He looks like he forgot he was there... his mind looks lost in another world, as if you’re not real right in front of him. His own personal strip performance. He’s so entranced in watching you, eyes wide open, absentmindedly touching himself over his jeans, camera slack in the other hand. 

“Focus, Hyunnie.” 

That snaps him out of it and he growls, picking up the camera begrudgingly, and you can tell he won’t hold out much longer without touching you. You go back to posing for him, completely wet and naked, pressing against the glass, making it fog up. 

“That’s it, baby, my God.” You hear the shutter of the camera work fast. 

You press your nipples against the door and lick the glass, knowing he’s about to go insane getting that shot on camera. You hear the shutter go nuts, as Hyunjin struggles to keep concentrated. 

“We’re done,” he commands. “Out. Now. I need you, baby.”

You need him just as badly. You turn off the water, completely satisfied, knowing you did your job well. 

When you step out of the shower, he has a towel ready for you. He wraps your body in it, and as soon as it’s covering you he captures your mouth in a hard, searing kiss that makes your head spin. He’s ravenous. Goosebumps erupt on your body, making you shiver. 

He pulls away, ready to take you right then and there, but notices you’re shivering…

“Let me go get another towel for your hair, little baby, you’re soaking wet.” Without second thought, he leaves the bathroom to grab a fresh towel from the laundry room. Hot and heavy Hyunjin always turns you on, but considerate and loving Hyunnie makes the insatiable fire even worse. You shut off the music, and spot his camera sitting on the chair where he just was.

An idea…. hits you. 

With the towel still wrapped around your body, you grab the camera, and walk into the bedroom.

You place the camera down on the nightstand. You begin drying your body off when Hyunjin walks into the room, towel in his hand. 

“Let me.” 

The look on his face is full of love, and he walks over and begins to dry you off, putting slow kisses on your neck and shoulders as he does it, taking his time.

“You did so good for me in there, baby. Those shots were amazing. That was absolutely perfect. Let Daddy take care of you now, pretty girl.” 

He picks you up gently, his strong arms holding you effortlessly, and lays you down on your back, head cradled by the pillow. He crawls on the bed, hovering over your body. His gaze on you is soft and needy.

The feeling of anticipation runs through you as he opens the towel, exposing your naked body to him. The cold air hits your semi-damp skin, and he sees you shiver. He sits up quickly to take off his shirt, then lowers himself back down to you, engulfing you in his warm skin. He lays there for a moment, letting you steal his heat. He peppers your collarbone with gentle kisses, and begins to slowly make his way down. Stopping at your breasts, he gives both nipples a kiss, and continues to drag his mouth down the front of you. He’s immersed in you, completely, eyes closed in bliss, kissing down your stomach. He drifts his large hands down your naked thighs while he kisses down your navel, until his hands reach your knees.

He pushes your legs up, fully exposing your aching heat to his lustful eyes. You’re completely soaking wet for him.. 

"Aww, brat... Look at you." He bites his lip as he admires your cunt, speaking in his teasing, deep voice. "This little pussy wants me so badly... You need Daddy, don't you? Look how pretty this pussy is, dripping wet and ready for me... you're a mess, little baby. We can't have that now, can we?"

He lowers his face to your cunt, making you squirm with his hot breath.

While he’s not looking at you, you realize…. Now’s your chance. 

You try your best to not shift much, as you grasp for the camera right beside you on the night stand. You quietly turn it on, and begin to set up the settings. His mouth is kissing on the innermost part of your thighs, then glides to the outside of your lips, completely unaware of what you’re plotting. You hold the camera up to your face, and once you see the view in front of you through the lens it sets your body completely on fire. He looks so good, eating you.

You feel his mouth capture your clit. The moan you let out is straight up gutteral, and you click the shutter button of the camera. 

Hyunjin snaps his gaze to you, without moving his head from your pussy.. His eyes widen when he realizes you have the camera out.  

“Keep going, Hyunnie. It’s my turn. Make me yours.” You breathe at him. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. Are you sure?” He hesitates, though you can tell how badly he wants to continue.

“I need to watch you fuck me with that mouth, Daddy.”

His eyes roll back as he groans into your cunt, his tongue swiping the entire length of you from your entrance to your clit.

He looks up at you while his mouth is lingering against your pussy and gently spreads your legs as far as they can go, giving him maximum exposure for his mouth. "My naughty little brat..." he whispers, dipping his head back down to worship you.

He begins to devour you with a loving passion, his tongue swirling as he sucks the sensitive bud of your clit, his lips gliding against you, making you dizzy. He knows exactly how you like it, and there's nothing else in this world that he loves more than making you feel good. He's so experienced to your pleasure... He would spend days doing this if he could. You begin taking photos of him this way, trying not to let your head fall back and give in to the overwhelming sensations of greedy need and lust. You moan his name, and his gaze sets back on you. He looks into the camera with blazing hot eye contact, as he languidly makes love to you with his mouth. It’s deliberately slow. He wants you to capture him devouring you. You shakily take the photos of him lapping at your cunt, barely able to concentrate on the framework, and you see his eyes smirk at you. He's watching you fumble with the camera, he knows you're struggling to focus on your task. He chuckles against you, and suddenly, you feel his tongue plunge inside your desperate little cunt. Your body flushes all over, and you arch your back, begging for him to take more of you. 

“More, daddy, please. I need you. I need more. Please.”

He sits up a little and takes one hand off of your leg, and drags it down your heat to wet his fingers. 

“Whatever you want, brat.” 

He plunges two fingers into you, making you cry out in relief, while his tongue is still sucking on your clit. You forget the camera, finally letting yourself cave into the desire, and throw your head as your hand searches to grip his hair. You grind yourself into his face. He figures out the tempo of your hips and begins moving his fingers to the speed of your needy little thrusts. His mouth never wavers, as he moans greedily onto your clit, enjoying the fact that he’s driving you crazy. 

He can feel you tighten as you get closer to your release, and he breaks away from your clit for just a moment to whisper against your pussy. “Come for Daddy, baby.” He dives back in, licking circles on your clit, keeping the same rhythm as his fingers as they curl inside of you, diving in and out of you, hitting you deep. You feel your orgasm come on fast. 

“Fuck, Hyun, I can’t hold on!” 

Your breath heaves as you close your eyes, and white hot heat sends ripples through your body, pleasure shaking you at the core. You cry out, locking your legs around his head, riding the high, his name tumbling from your lips over and over. 

He smirks up at you, "You always taste so sweet, baby. Good girl. You love when I make you come like that, don't you?"

He kisses your thighs before he raises up, and you open your eyes to take sight of him. His cheeks are red, his mouth is drenched, his hair is disheveled, his chest is flushed with red. 

His eyes are hungry. 

He makes quick work of the rest of his clothing, shrugging off his jeans and underwear, and crawls back on the bed to you. This time, he grabs your thighs, and pulls your entire body to the edge of the bed, with full force. He looks up at you, and leans down to kiss you. The taste of you is heavy on his lips, and he opens your mouth, hungry for your tongue on his. You groan into each other's mouths. Kissing is always so easy, so effortless. So entirely consuming. He pulls away from your mouth, but keeps his face close to yours as he positions himself at your entrance. His head drops to your neck, as he teases his tip against you, bucking his hips and shivering just at feeling how wet you are. He must’ve been suffering, badly. Poor Hyunnie. He's so desperate for you. Right before he buries himself into you, you put a hand on his chest and stop him. 

He looks at you, eyes questioning what’s wrong. 

You smile at him mischeviously, holding his face and kissing his cheeks, then bring your mouth against his ear and whisper,

“Grab the camera, Daddy.” 

He pulls his face up abruptly and looks at you with a burning look you’ve never seen. Without a word, he lifts up and grabs the camera where it was laying, and turns it on. 

He looks at the view of you underneath him through the camera lens, your body waiting for him as your legs are spread open, as his cock rests against your entrance. He growls at the view, your hair a damp mess, make up strewn on your face, cheeks flush with red, eyes full of fire for him. Nipples taught, body writhing. You decide to hold up your legs for him, grabbing your thighs underneath the knees, opening your cunt farther open for the camera, and for his viewing pleasure. 

“Holy fuck, baby, I’m gonna lose my MIND.” The camera clicks. He grabs the base of his cock and lines it up with your center. He’s taking photos as he slowly moves, capturing every moment. You both moan at how fucking naughty and erotic this is. He pushes himself inside of you, his eyes rolling back, as he releases a loud, deep groan. He looks back at the view of being inside of you. He says your name, completely incoherent, as he tries to take a picture of him buried in you, the sheer eroticism of it making his hips buck without his control. Praises fall off his lips. 

“Your daddy’s perfect little slut, aren’t you? Look at the camera, baby. Such a mess underneath me. You’re mine, brat. I own this pussy, do you understand? I own you, pretty girl. Forever.” 

“I’m all yours, Hyunjinnie, you own me.” You moan breathlessly at him, needy and whining at how deep he is inside of you, and he takes a photo as your mouth opens as he starts to thrust at a faster speed. 

He puts the camera down, and grabs your hips as he fully immerses himself in eye contact with you again. He’s biting his lip as he watches you bounce underneath him, your tits moving with every thrust, as he's letting go of the primal vocals he’s been holding back all evening. He’s succumbing to the desire completely as he loses full control, while you feel your cunt tighten again, your orgasm coming dangerously fast. His gaze darkens as he feels you tighten around him, and you know he’s close as well. He lowers his entire body onto yours, sloppily kissing your neck as his thrusts are relentless, making you a whining mess of nerves. 

His breathing quickens, “Ah fuck, I’m cumming baby, cum for daddy, I need you, pretty girl.” He breathes out, his release hitting him fast, and you feel your muscles tighten and explode as you cry out and come with him.

He collapses, trying to hold some of his weight off of you, and kisses your lips sweetly, his hair and body completely drenched in sweat, placing his forehead against yours. Exhaustion hitting him, he shifts his body and nestles himself beside you, grabbing you up, placing gentle kisses on your shoulder while whispering against your skin... He breaks the comfortable silence, his mind a messy drabble of words.

"That was... I can't... baby, do you know how I love you? The ways that I love you... " his voice is hoarse, emotion evident that the experience you just had was a lot for him to register. "I've never felt more alive than when I'm doing... exciting new things with you. I want to keep doing all the spontaneous moments, all the time." His lips are a bit garbled as he's speaking against your skin, too tired to move his position. "Being with you is my favorite thing, being in our own little world here... Life doesn't get better than this." he trails off, as he dances his fingers up your neck and into your hair, sweetly moving some strands to tuck behind your ear.

You look at him and smile softly, the intimacy of love in his eyes making your heart do flips. "You're my sweet Hyunjinnie... " you say. "I've never loved anyone like you, everything that you are is a gift to me. I love you so much it hurts, Hyun. I want to do new things with you, always. You are my entire heart."

You lay there, spent and exhausted. Realizing what you’ve just done together, you giggle to yourself, and grab the camera. You turn it on to look at the photos that were taken this evening. You angle your body to where Hyunjin can see the screen as well, and you start going through the photo gallery. 

“Oh my god, baby. These are so incredible. I can’t believe we just did that..” 

He snuggles against your neck. 

“We look fucking good together. And we look good, fucking.” and you hum in response, agreeing with him. You feel him harden again as he spoons you, each photo turning him on all over again.

He perks up inquisitively, laughing, realizing this entire project was so he could paint a portrait. 

“How am I supposed to paint all of these? I can’t choose a favorite. That’s impossible. I guess I’m gonna have to buy some more canvases….” 

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fic #stray kids fic #hyunjin smut #hyunjin romance #skz smut #Hwang Hyunjin x Reader #Hwang Hyunjin/Reader #Stray Kids x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin fanfic

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin - Chapter 3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut. Oral (fem receiving), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of blood, overstimulation.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to an exclusive party at his place, you wake up and enjoy a lazy afternoon with Tyrone learning more about his kind.

Word Count: 5,036k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: WHEW! They make me sick, lol. They're so cute. (I say this as if I didn't write them that way) Thank you SO MUCH for all the love towards this series! It means the world to me! I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony977 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque

You slowly rose to consciousness. It was a lazy thing, sensations hit you first. You were warm, extremely warm, and Tyrone’s arm was around you like a leaden weight. There were no sounds in the room, figures, but the silence was eerie. You had your own place so you were used to quiet mornings, but you were usually alone. Waking up next to someone was a completely different experience. Your one night stands were exactly that, one night.

You shifted, opening one eye and searching the room. You were still in the same room that Tyrone fucked your brains out. You were sore. Fuck, you were so sore. You ached in muscle groups you didn’t think were possible. You had a slight throbbing on your thigh. You peeked under the covers.

Tyrone’s bite was still there, but the pinpricks seemed tinier. You’d have to ask about that. If he was going to continue biting you, he’d have to do it in areas you could easily hide. Somehow, you just couldn’t think of a proper excuse for why someone would bite you hard enough to draw blood.

Tyrone lay like an anchor next to you. He didn’t breathe. In fact, if you weren’t sure he was a vampire, you would have sworn he was dead. Technically, yes, you knew he was dead. But not dead-dead. 

Since he was at rest, you took the moment to study him. He had long eyelashes fanned over ebony cheeks. Even after everything you did last night, his hair was still perfectly braided. You’d have to ask if that was him or vampire magic.

His full, plump lips were slightly parted mimicking breathing. He was so damn gorgeous. You had to pinch yourself, a little, to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. That you really did meet and fuck a vampire. Too bad you couldn’t tell anyone that part. Your friend, Amanda, would flip the fuck out!

You grabbed Tyrone’s hand, looking at his massive paw. Long, delicate fingers like a musician’s hand. There was so much you wanted to discover about him, you only wished you had more time to do it. You carefully took his arm off of you and went to the bathroom to take care of yourself.

You stumbled towards the door. Your legs were too weak to support you. You had to take slow, measured steps. Each footfall felt heavier than the last. You were unprepared for the appetite of a vampire. If this was any indication of how your sexual relationship was to go, you needed to look into stretches or something.

You made it to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. If there was a definition of “fucked”, your picture would be right beside it. Your hair was a mess, sweated through and frizzy. Your eyes were shiny and slightly red from all the crying you did. Your lips were swollen from all the kisses and bites. 

A deep line was etched into your cheek from the sheets. You slept well. Really well. Who needed sleep aids when you had a vampire? 

You smiled at yourself as you took care of business and then headed back to bed. You fished your phone out of your clutch and answered texts and emails, waiting for Tyrone to wake up.

You weren’t stupid enough to go traipsing around the mansion without him. You gave everyone a show last night because you wanted to fuck Tyrone and thems the rules. But you were not a free-for-all. 

A little under an hour later, Tyrone finally stirred. It was like life was sucked back into him. His chest rose and he twitched as life or magic or whatever kept him animated flared up. He blinked a few times, turning his head and sniffing the air.

“You do that a lot,” you mentioned softly.

Tyrone smiled and opened his eyes. He licked his lips as he drew the pillow closer to him and rested his head on it. He was content to look at you. But the longer he stared, the more nervous he made you. 

“You can tell a lot by scent,” he said. “For example, I know you had an omelet yesterday morning.”

“Eww!” You said and giggled. 

“Hm, you smell like me too,” he said. His voice got deeper, surely on purpose, but you loved it. 

“Do I, now?” You asked.

“Mhm, I smell good on you,” he said. His eyes turned a shade darker, more like crimson. His hand darted out to tug you closer. You yelped as you were tucked under him. He leaned up and ran his nose against yours. 

“Okay, show mercy. I’m still human,” you said.

Tyrone grinned, showing off his fangs. “My apologies. I’ll try to remember that. You did so well last night, it’s easy to forget,” he said. 

“I know some things, but not everything. I thought I was going to pass out,” you told him. You gripped his shoulders, feeling just how solid he was. You simply couldn’t get over it. Here was a man with presence. Humans had no chance at competing with him.

How could you go back to human men after getting a taste of Tyrone?

He kissed your cheek but it pulled one of the bites on your shoulder. You hissed and Tyrone pulled back. His eyes took on a feral gleam as he looked at the bite on your shoulder. He was such a caveman. 

Tyrone bit his finger, blood welled up. He rubbed his blood on your bite. Warmth spread from it and made you tingle all over. You moaned as he continued to rub your bite. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice a little slurred.

“Cleaning up after myself,” he said. “We take your blood, absorb it. It mixes with ours. The resulting magic lets us do a lot of things. Like heal the bites we make,” he said. 

“That is so fucking cool,” you said. You wanted to learn absolutely everything. How much of the vampire myths were true? How many were false? 

“Gonna heal the one on my thigh too?” You asked.

“Fuck no,” he said. You giggled while his hand searched your thigh for the bite. You hissed a little as his fingers ran over it.

“That’s my spot and I’m keeping it. Every other vampire will be able to smell me on you. Know that you’re mine,” he said.

You grinned and melted under his words. Maybe you should see a shrink. Belonging to a dangerous creature should not excite you the way it did. You wanted to be his, for however long you had him.

You were certain that he’d grow bored eventually. There was no way a vampire would attach himself to a human. Yuck. Spare you the mercy of growing old, ugly, and frail while he still remained young and beautiful. There was no time to think about such things now, though. You weren’t old yet and you could enjoy him.

“So I just have to live with a perpetual wound from now on? Say goodbye to bikinis forever?” 

Tyrone grinned. Well, you had your answer. You shook your head and focused on his arms. His neck. You wanted to commit every inch of him to memory. 

“Up for a tour?” Tyrone asked.

You groaned. “I can’t fucking walk!” 

Tyrone only chuckled, a smug look passing his face before he mockingly pouted. “Aww, sounds like someone needs some more dick,” he said.

“Don’t you dare,” you giggled. “I’ll be paralyzed!” 

Tyrone tickled you and you squirmed. “Nah, you can still move. You’ll be alright,” he said. 

“Tyrone!” You squealed.

Tyrone stopped and tugged you closer. He licked his lips before pressing his lips against yours, kissing you slowly. You relaxed into the kiss, letting him dictate the pace. His kisses were addictive. He knew how to do so without nicking your lips. 

You were growing wetter by the second. Your body wasted no time getting acclimated to someone like him. 

“I can smell you getting wet for me, too,” he murmured against your lips.

You groaned. “I’m not going to be able to hide anything from you, am I?” 

He pulled back and stared into your eyes. “Nah,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes. Well, when you ask a stupid question… “So what kind of tour are we talking about?” 

“Tour of the house. I don’t live here, but I keep an office and a few things,” he said. 

“Where do you live?” You asked.

Tyrone grinned. His hands idly rubbed your lower back. Yup, you could easily get addicted to this man. 

“Are you asking me to trust you with my resting place?” Tyrone asked.

“No need to be so dramatic about it,” you said with a grin. 

“It’s not a big secret, but vampires are a little more wary of who they trust their resting place to. Here, everyone agrees to be civil. But their true resting place is a well kept secret. It’s personal,” Tyrone said.

“So, I’m guessing no surprise pop ups in nothing but a trenchcoat and panties?” 

Tyrone’s hand flexed against your waist. He grinned. “Maybe I can make an exception for you,” he said.

You giggled and shook your head. “It’s okay. If you say it’s personal, I believe you.”

“So, tour? Food? We have a well stocked kitchen for donors,” he said.

Your stomach had been cramping since you woke up. “After last night? Food first,” you said.

“As you wish,” he said. He kissed your cheek and then stood up. He wore gray boxer briefs that looked divine against his rich, dark skin. You, on the other hand, did not bring any undergarments. You didn’t think through the morning after that well. Your fancy dress was not your usual morning after attire.

Tyrone picked his dress shirt off of the ground and held it open for you. You were not joking about not being able to walk. You struggled to roll out of bed and plant your feet on the ground. It took you two tries to stand up.

Tyrone offered no assistance, instead watching you like a bird watching an insect. You stood on your own and walked towards him. You turned around and slipped on his shirt. There weren’t many things you could snatch from a significant other. Other girls got to, but you always found yourself with men whose clothes were smaller.

Not Tyrone. He wasn’t that tall compared to you, but he was thick. His dress shirt draped you nicely, hiding the important bits. You buttoned it on, leaving the top two undone. Tyrone’s eyes roamed over you, eyes turning brighter as he took you in. 

“I want to rip you out of that,” he said.

“Would that you could,” you said with a smile. You were more than willing. But your body was not. 

Tyrone stepped closer and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Arousal pooled and Tyrone growled into your kiss. 

“Food. Kitchen. Otherwise, I’m definitely going to work that shit out,” he said.

You giggled. You had to find the strength to pull away from him. He was the stronger of you two, an entire vampire, but you were the one that had to remain strong and clear headed. Knowing that he was so feral for you only turned you on. You could only be around him in small doses. Long exposure to this type of passion was going to turn your head to mush.

Tyrone grinned and turned around. “Hop on,” he said.

“Are you crazy?” You asked.

Without waiting for you, he scooted back, grabbed your thighs, and hauled you onto his back. You yelped, not used to being picked up like this. Your arms flew around his neck and held on. You eased up, so as to not choke him, until you realized that he didn’t need to fucking breathe.

Your breaths were caught in your throat as he threw off your balance. The world looked strange from up here. The errant thought made you giggle. It bordered on hysterics as he left the room. 

“I got you,” he said.

He didn’t grunt or struggle as he walked down the hallway from last night. His paintings were no less intimidating in the light of day. There were so many of them.

“Practice in vanity or does this fit in with your lord of the manor vibe?” You asked.

Tyrone chuckled. “I have been a patron of a lot of artists in my life. They thank me by painting me. I didn’t want that shit in my house. So I guess a little of both,” he said. 

He carried you through the house, explaining this painting or that painting. He told you about some of the artists he met, some you heard of and others you hadn’t. “Most people don’t value art ‘till after your death. Like people can’t appreciate it until you’re not there to hear them.” 

You supposed there was some truth to that. It was nerve wracking interacting with your favorite artists. You were in such awe of their work, you didn’t really want them to know you existed. 

He moved through the house with ease. You passed a few remnants of the party. A stray cup here, a lonely panty there. A pile of vampires had passed out on the rug. Outside the windows, the sun was descending rapidly. 

“Are you able to be up when the sun is up?” You asked. 

“Older vampires can. We’re all slaves to the sun, but some can get up before nightfall,” he said. 

“Like you,” you said.

Tyrone agreed as he deftly stepped over vampires or avoided mysterious substances on the ground. You couldn’t tell if it was wine or blood. 

“So that makes you…?” 

Tyrone chuckled. “You should never ask a vampire his age. It’s rude,” he said with another chuckle. 

“Is it, though?” 

Tyrone pushed through the door, into the kitchen. The kitchen was huge. Spacious. You could fit four of your kitchens in here with room to spare. The marble tiles on the floor were a soft gray and white. The cabinets were done in a soft wood with darker gray countertops. 

The stove was top of the line. Wait, make that stoves. Plural. Two fridges as well. Tyrone really had a whole sex mansion complete with food. Why the hell would any vampire not fuck and feed his way through existence? 

He deposited you on a bar stool. Your feet dangled, it was up so high. He kissed your cheek as he went to one of the fridges. Inside, you could see meal prep containers. He tapped through some of them, calling out the ingredients. You wanted the salmon bowl. You probably needed something heartier. Well, you should probably look into supplements for all the iron you’re going to lose donating blood. For now, you just wanted something to calm your stomach.

Tyrone heated it up and served you, handing you a fork that looked damn expensive. He sat on the stool next to you and encouraged you to eat. 

You moaned on the first bite. The flavors smacked you in the face. The salmon was juicy, well seasoned, on a bed of rice and complimentary veggies. They must have a Black cook. There was no way anyone else would produce such a work of art. 

Tyrone talked to you while you ate. It was weird. You wouldn’t be able to share a meal with him either. “We can eat to blend in, but we gain no nutrition from it.” 

He told you more about donors. The rule of thumb was catch and release. Vampires kept a rotation of three donors to not wear any one of them out. Only for a short time, as long as it suits either party, but vampires were expected to eventually let them go and return to their lives. 

You kept a neutral face. Inside, you were already dying. Your time with him was even more limited than you thought. You focused on your plate as he explained more about it. But all you could hear was that you’d have to share him with two other people.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said.

“Nothing, keep going,” you said. You gave him a smile but he only frowned.

“This only works if you’re honest. If you keep things from me, I can’t fix it,” he said.

You slowly chewed as you mulled that over. That was true but…what could he fix about sharing him and needing to feed? 

“How many donors do you have?” You asked.

“None. Just you,” he said.

You tilted your head. “But you just said…”

“Usually, yes, I would have three donors. The older you get, the more you can get selective and wait longer in between feedings. We have supplemental ways of feeding too,” he said.

You stared at him and licked your lips as you thought. “Will you get any more donors?”

Tyrone gripped your hand and brought it to his lips. He placed a kiss there. He turned his sharp red eyes towards you and held your gaze. “You are the only donor I want. And I will not feed unless you say it’s okay,” he said.

“But I’m not gonna let you starve–”

“You let me worry about my food,” he said with a grin. 

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t be serious,” you said. You didn’t want details, but you were trying to guard yourself. You were already feening for him. Needing to touch him as often as he touched you. You had known each other for a few short weeks, having gone on so many dates. 

He had kept himself apart, unwilling to touch you. Last night rang the dinner bell. Literally. You smiled at your joke and Tyrone pushed you to tell him. When you did, he laughed. His throaty, raspy laugh was loud in the spacious kitchen and you loved hearing it. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if he took another donor like he was supposed to. 

“I will only feed from you if you allow it. I have other ways to feed that don’t involve inviting someone else into this,” he said. He squeezed your hand.

“Yes, but it doesn’t sound like vampires do the whole…exclusive thing,” you said. Ugh. Were you really trying to define whatever this was? Couldn’t it be two normal people fucking? Perhaps not, now that you thought about it. Nothing about this was normal. He was a vampire. You were human. He was a predator. And you were food.

“Normally, no. Nothing about you is normal. Nothing about this is normal. I don’t want to share you, so it would be unfair to ask you to share me,” he said.

You hummed and took a bite to keep from saying anything stupid. Like melt all over him and declare to the entire world that he was yours forever and ever. He must’ve had this conversation a thousand times. You stopped yourself. You did not want to think about the countless donors he’d had over the centuries he’d been alive. It was none of your business.

“Okay, point made.” You smiled and took his hand again, amazed yet again at the heat that radiated from him.

“How come you’re so warm?” You asked.

“I’m well fed and riding that high,” he said with a grin, flashing his fangs.

You rolled your eyes. Now that you were fed, you were a little more stable on your feet. You could manage to walk, but it was slow going. Tyrone offered to carry you, but you weren’t a damn baby. You could walk under your own steam. 

You looked at him as he walked beside you. He seemed content to do so. You wondered if humans were disgustingly slow compared to his speed. 

The food helped in a lot of ways. Moving around helped ease the stiffness and soreness from all the rough fucking from last night. He took you through the major rooms downstairs, the playrooms, the living room, the dining room. He took you to receiving rooms and tea rooms and all other kinds of rooms usually reserved for English estates.

“So no one’s allowed upstairs?” You asked.

“Private rooms people can rent,” he said with a shrug. 

“Your cleaning bill must be through the roof. How does one get into cleaning up blood for vampires?” 

You had stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the grandness of it. He shrugged. “Vampires have their hands in a number of businesses. Cleaning services too.” 

“You know you don’t have to answer all of my questions if there’s some huge secret,” you said. 

He smiled. “You’re a donor now, claimed in front of everyone. I can share a lot more,” he said. 

You tilted your head and nodded. He was willing to try so you will too. You headed up the stairs. Tyrone made appreciative noises as he played with your ass. You playfully slapped his hands away, but he only went right back to caressing the globes of your ass. At the top of the stairs, he pulled you back into his chest and he kissed your neck.

This man was so dangerous to your well being. He took you through the wide hallways, big enough to fit four, maybe five people comfortably without bumping into each other. He pointed out the private rooms in the east wing. Some were occupied so you crept carefully.

Tyrone seemed tense during this part. You weren’t sure why, so you kept quiet while he pointed out a few things. He took you into some of the empty rooms. There were all manner of whips, chains, and fresh toys in new packages. You lifted your eyebrows at some of it. And you thought you were adventurous. 

Tyrone led you by the hand towards the west wing. His office, his private bedrooms. The main bedroom was, you guessed it, huge. You didn’t know rooms came this big. There was a large gap between the door and the king sized bed. An ottoman was placed in front of it, dainty pillows on top of it.

Your feet sunk into the plush carpet and you groaned. It was like walking on marshmallows. He showed you the walk-in closet. It was about the size of your living room at home. You wanted to move into the walk-in closet. You’d kill for a walk-in closet.

He had a neat row of tailored suits in varying shades of blue, black, and gray. He had dressers in the middle of the room with jewelry, watches, chains, cufflinks. His shoes were arranged against one whole wall. This was wealth. 

Oh, but the bathroom. You could marry the bathroom. A large jacuzzi tab was pushed into the corner of the room. Opposite it, there was a shower with clear doors and a bench seat. The backsplash looked like chevron tiles. The sink almost spanned an entire wall, with dual sinks, brushed steel hardware, and a few smell goods on the sink. Your hand caressed brands you’d never heard of. There was probably a list of rich folk brands not released to poor folk. 

The tile underneath was warm, which surprised you. But the tub! You ached to sink down into it and never leave until you were nothing but shriveled prunes. Tyrone came up behind you while you gushed about it.

“After we finish, we can take a bath. Clean you up,” he whispered against your neck. It tingled with the promise of that particular activity. Maybe you had one more round left in you. Maybe. Hard maybe.

“I’d really love that,” you said. 

Reluctantly, you left the bathroom and his bedroom, already missing something that was never yours. He took your hand again and you grinned. The gloves had come off. You had been touching and feeling on each other all throughout the tour. You were still dizzy from the kiss he planted on you against the railing in between the east and west wing.

He pointed down the hall and said that there were workout rooms and a lounge area where he relaxed, nothing fancy. But he stopped in front of one door and looked at you with a grin. He opened the door and your eyes bugged out of your head.

He had a library. Scratch that, a mega library. You were running out of ways to describe how massive his home was. Every wall was covered in books. You headed inside. 

Dark wood floors were shined to perfection. Directly in front of you, there was a floor to ceiling window with intricate iron decorations outside of it. Under it, there was a window seat. To your left, there were plump blue chairs set all around so you could flop in and read all day. He actually had ladders, rolling ladders, in the library. 

To your right, there was a small neat desk with a lamp, computer, some folders. Behind that, more books. And a door set off in the corner.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” you gasped. You had no words. “This is some Beauty and the Beast shit,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled. “You can use it any time you want,” he said.

“Oh, don’t tell me that. You’ll get sick of seeing me!” You raced to the bookshelf behind  the desk. There were modern books mixed in with old books. Really old books, kept in neat condition. Your finger lightly trailed some of the titles, unwilling to get your greasy fingerprints all over it.

“I will have to ask that you don’t read the books behind the door,” Tyrone said as you inched closer to the mysterious door.

“Can I ask why?” You asked.

He took your hand and opened that door. Inside, it was probably the smallest room of the whole house. Which wasn’t saying much. It was still bigger than your room. There was only one desk, empty, and one chair. The surrounding bookshelves all held uniform black bound books. 

“My journals,” Tyrone said. His voice was tight. You looked at this face. He frowned at the room. “I used to write everything down when I was turned. But…gets depressing seeing so many. So many memories lost,” he said.

“So you don’t have perfect memory?” You asked.

“Like humans, we remember what we choose to,” he said. You could tell it was still a sore subject, so you squeezed his hand. 

“You don’t have to share more, I get it. Off limits, say no more,” you said. Although, you’d be a rotten liar if you said you weren’t curious. Of course you were. All those secrets. All those lives. You wondered if you were to read them, would you be any closer to understanding him? Were you capable of understanding the lives he lived? The magnitude of living for centuries? 

Possibly not. But he said hands off so you’d keep your hands off as instructed. He smiled, no more than a lift of his lips, and closed the door. Sealing off his journals. 

You moved back into the main library, but he followed you with a sudden hunger. You tilted your head as you backed away, but he only pursued you. His eyes were narrowed and focused, a wild gleam in his eyes. A smirk hovered on his lips. 

“What you lookin’ at me like that for?” You asked.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He asked, though it seemed more to himself. He pursued you, eyes raking over your body, ready to devour you whole. You briefly wondered if that wasn’t driving this. If he truly only saw you as food and wanted to play with you before sucking you dry. 

That should terrify you. But he had plenty of opportunities to kill you. And you watched one too many crime dramas.

He pushed you against the desk and then lifted you effortlessly on top of it. You yelped from the sudden cold from the desk. Tyrone’s hands quickly massaged you, squeezing your booty and rubbing some warmth back into it.

“I–”

Tyrone cut off your protests with a scorching kiss. It was wet and sloppy and so damn hot, your toes curled. He lifted up the shirt you wore and knelt on the ground. It made his face level with your dripping pussy.

He tongue darted out, catching wayward drops. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned.

His hands pressed your thighs as far as they would go, your feet dangling over his shoulders. He attached his lips to your clit and began to vigorously suck and flick his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god. Ouueee,” you moaned. You leaned back on your elbows and tried to survive another orgasm. Your legs shook. Tyrone’s thumbs rubbed circles into your thighs. You were on stimulation overload. 

His sloppy eating heightened your pleasure. Feeling it, made your eyes roll back into your head. He ate with reckless abandon, slurping up everything you leaked out. “Oh shit, oh shit,” you moaned. Your orgasm was coming in like a bullet train.

“Let it go, love,” he said. His voice was hoarse, rough from licking you.

You moaned once more as you exploded on his tongue. Your thighs tried to close but he held you open still. He retreated as you came, but his lips were close enough to feel them. He was murmuring something but fuck if you heard it.

You collapsed onto the desk, spent and worn out. Now, you truly were paralyzed. You physically could not get up. Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling and you stared at the crown molding. 

Tyrone replaced that view and smiled down at you. “Ready for that bath now?” 

“Fuck you,” you groaned.

He chuckled as he picked you up, bride style, his arm tucked behind your back and under your legs. He carried you as if you weighed no more than a feather. You rested your head on his smooth shoulder as he carried you to his room and then to that lovely tub.

You only hoped you could stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

&&&

Masterlist | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Vampire!Tyrone x Black!reader #Vampire Tyrone x Black reader #x Black reader #Vampire Tyrone #Vampire!Tyrone #Vampire!Tyrone x Fem!reader #Vampire Tyrone x Fem reader #AU Tyrone #Vampire!Tyrone x Plus size reader #Vampire Tyrone x plus size reader #Vampire!Tyrone smut #Vampire Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction #They Cloned Tyrone #Midnight Sin Series

[inniessick]

Cream Pie / Choi Beomgyu

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

word count: maybe 1.5k?

warnings: cursing, mentions of reader being jealous, beom and reader argue (nothing extreme literally minor plot), this is basically pwp imo. names (beomie, gyu, beom, slut, whore, bitch, babe, baby, love), cream pie, no protection (don't do this i'm just too lazy to write a condom scene i'll be honest), lowk manhandling maybe, kissing, uh maybe that's all?? not proofread, mayhaps improper grammar capitalization. if i missed anything please let me know!

likes reblogs and feedback are appreciated! my requests are open! let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist.

"God damn it gyu, why do you have to be like this?" You furrowed your brows, throwing your hands up. This was the second time this week that you and beomgyu had gotten into an argument because of your jealousy. It wasn't always this bad, but lately one of beomgyu's coworkers just seemed to be getting way too friendly.

"What do you mean why am I like this Y/n? You literally started this!" His voice had finally started to get louder, "Well maybe if you would tell her off I wouldn't feel this way! Don't you see the way she touches you? It's like how I do! That's not okay.. Only i'm supposed to do that." His eyes softened but his voice became more stern, "Seriously?" He grabbed your wrist causing you to look up at him, "Just how many times do I need to fuck it into you that nobody else compares to you. I tell you that all the time, I show you what you mean to me."

Now, sure this was a serious argument conversation, but something about the way beomgyu was speaking to you had you clenching your thighs together. As angry as you were, he always got hotter when he was a bit irritated. Your anger was starting to dissipate into lust, and at the end of the day the truth was you simply wanted beomgyu. You pouted your lips, looking off to the side, "You haven't paid any attention to me this week gyu.. haven't touched me or nothin'.." You heard him laugh a bit, "So that's what all this was for?" He gestured his hands up into the air, "Don't need to argue with me to get me touch you my love, you just have to ask." His hand trailed up your arm before sitting against on your neck, "..but considering you did start this argument with me, don't you think you deserve a slight punishment?" Your eyes lit up just a bit, and your panties started to stick to your core.

"Now, why don't you head to the bedroom and get undressed for me since you want to be such a needy slut?" You rapidly nodded, hurrying off to the bedroom and quickly ridding yourself of your clothing before laying down on the bed. beomgyu came in shortly after. His hand traveled down to your pussy, his fingers running small circles around your clit. you let out a suppressed moan, "gyu, please wan' more." He hummed in response, slipping a finger inside, "No cumming until i say so." stuttering as your eyes went wide, "B-but that's no fair! 's mean.. always mean to m-" He added a second finger quickening his pace, forcing you to close your eyes and arch your back. gyu was hitting that sweet gummy spot, the one that makes you feel oh so nice. "You like it when i'm mean to you like this, you enjoy it as much as i do. Don't put on this "good girl" act with me when you're acting like a bitch in heat." simply nodding your head letting out breathy moans here and there. "Ah, beom, more please~ feels good.. close." Pulling his fingers out before quickly taking off his clothes, "Mmph- ah! beomgyu! What are you doing?" "I told you you're not cumming until i say so, baby. I'm going to have my way with you and then we'll see if you can finish."

He leaned back onto the bed, holding your thighs open before aligning himself with your entrance. Gathering a nice amount of slick, his tip continuing to bump against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you. "Don't tease... please just fuck me." "So damn desperate, do you want it that bad?" He ran himself through your folds a few times, continuing to tease you, just to see how much you'd beg. "Yesyes, please gyu just do something." He smirked slightly, pushing your knees against your chest before slamming himself inside your warm cunt, beginning at a pace that already had you gripping the sheets and biting your lips. "If that's what you really want baby, i'll give it to you. Ah shit- don't wanna hear you say it's t'much. You're gonna lay here and take it like the whore you are."

Beomgyu was always so good at this. Not just the way he fucked you, but everything that went into it. Even the things he said had you clenching around his dick, it made your brain foggy. He leaned down slightly, face coming closer to your ear, "Wish you could see yourself, barely started and you look so fucked out already.." his breath sent a shiver down your spine, "feels so good beomie.. please," he let go of your thigh, grabbing at your hip and going deeper, practically kissing your cervix. "Shit! mm~ gyu please please," "Please what, babe? Gonna beg for somethin'?" He let out a few moans each time he felt you clamp down on him, "gyu, wanna cum. Feels good, so good." "No." He was stern with his voice. You whined, grabbing at his bicep, "Please! can't take it, need to." He gripped your face, "I said no, I told you this was a punishment." His hand moved down, between the valley of your breasts, brushing over your nipple even so slightly before trailing further down. Thumb gently brushing over your clit, a small smirk across his lips, "You better not cum, or it'll be a whole two weeks before I touch you again." You shook your head, nails leaving crescent shapes on his arms from how hard you were squeezing.

His pace quickened, "Don't do that, can't hold it, s' too much," "You can wait, hold it f'me." Tears pricked at your waterline, "Baby, please let me. Wanna cum for you so bad." beomgyu let out a groan, he loved when you said things like that. "I'm close, just wait for me," both of his hands traveled to your hips, gripping them harshly before fucking into you. "Ah! Right there please! gyu~ againagain," "Shit.. look so pretty spread out like this for me. My pretty bitch, pussy made just f'me." You turned your head to the side letting out a moan, "Just for you.. beomie~ need to cum," "Let go baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock." And you did just as he said, your orgasm washed over you in intense waves. Beomgyus thrusts became more and more sloppy, a tell that he was close. He groaned, "close.. fuck.." "Want it gyu, please give it to me." He nodded slightly, throwing his head back and letting out such a pretty moan before painting your walls white. A few more thrusts before he slowed to a complete stop.

He took in a few deep breathes before that stupid smile of his began showing as you looked up. You giggled a bit, "What are you smiling about?" "You're just so cute, you know that?" You face began to heat up, you slapped his chest, "Don't say stuff like that when we're in this position." He laughed before leaning down to kiss you. Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him farther into the kiss, "Love you s' much, even when you're jealous." He mumbled. "Love you too." he finally pulled back from your lips, lightly tapping your thigh, "Time to clean up my little oatmeal cream pie right?" Your hand came up to your mouth, covering it in shock as you squeezed your thighs shut. "Beomgyu! Shut up!" He laughed as you threw the pillows on the bed at him.

Laughter and small shouts filled the bathroom as he continued to tease you while you both bathed. It was times like these that reminded you even if your jealousy overcame you, things would always be fine. It was "your beomie" after all, he would never fail to find a way to mend things. That's what made you love him so much in the first place. Even if you both argued and your emotions got the best of you, beomgyu would always be there to make you feel better, in multiple ways.

a/n: hey cuties looks like ur fav author ghosted u again and is giving u their biweekly post as an apology. it's gyu smut this time. forgive me 🩷. i have stuff in the drafts i'm finishing up rn. i know the ending was rushed i tried my best guys. it's 5am. goodbye.

likes reblogs and feedback are appreciated! my requests are open! let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist.

#*yoori writes #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #choi beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together fanfic

[depravitycentral]

General Yandere! Osamu Miya Profile

Yandere! Osamu Miya x fem! reader

Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, extreme possessiveness, unhealthy/toxic thoughts, mentions of dub-con, slight misogany/traditional gender roles, mentions of motherhood/forced motherhood, mentions of harassment, basically Osamu is obsessed with you congrats love </3, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

DARLING PROFILE

Introverted

It’s not that Osamu isn’t capable of being attracted towards a more social darling, but rather that there’s something very endearing and appealing about a darling that isn’t out with friends 24/7.

He doesn’t like the idea of other people monopolizing their time, and consequently it would make him much happier (and quell his protective tendencies) to have a beloved that spends most of their time at home.

Even a homebody would be perfect for him – of course, he wants his darling to have hobbies and activities that take place beyond the four walls of their home that they enjoy, but he likes knowing that ninety percent of the time, they can be found in pristine shape inside their home.

It fuels his more domestic fantasies as well; he likes to imagine spending lazy Sundays with his darling, snuggled up on the couch while rain pours outside, watching Top Chef or other favorite movies and shows, popcorn and other snacks slipping past their lips as he criticizes the chef’s cooking alongside Gordon Ramsay.

He likes to imagine the way his darling would look so pretty wearing his clothing, the hickeys he’d decorated their neck and collarbone with in last night’s passionate throws of intimacy standing out like a beacon as they sleepily rub their eyes, yawning out that fucking adorable morning ‘Samu.

He just likes knowing that his darling is mostly content with staying home most of the time – he hates the idea of them being out with strangers, with people that could potential hurt them or have ill intentions, and in his mind this is a perfect win-win. He’s a homebody too, and this way he can spend all of his time with them, by his side, preferably cuddled into his chest or with his tongue down their throat.

He just loves the way his darling slowly sees him as the most important person in their life, because he’s the only person in their life – it’s a dream come true, and to see their face light up when he gets home from work not only gets his heart racing and his palms sweat, but his pants so fucking tight.

Artistic

Now, this particular trait isn’t a must-have for Osamu, but it’s definitely a factor in what attracts him to his darling.

He likes the idea of a beloved that has hobbies of their own – someone who finds passion in their lives, and devotes a substantial portion of their time to practicing and perfecting their chosen art form.

This could be quite literally anything – painting, playing an instrument, drawing, cooking (Osamu’s personal favorite, though he must be a better cook than you, no exceptions), writing, sewing, crocheting, anything that gets his darling’s creative juices flowing.

He loves to watch them practice; there’s something about the expression on their face as they concentrate that really gets him going. Maybe it’s the way their tongue sticks out just slightly as they put the final touches on the cupcake batter they’re mixing, the way their brows twist together as they brush the ink over the paper, how they tap their foot as they try to keep their rhythm while playing a difficult passage on their instrument.

He just loves the way they look so invested and passionate, and if Osamu is being honest, a lot of this fascination comes from his hopes that one day they’ll think of him with that degree of devotion.

He loves the idea of his darling paying him so much mind and attention that he becomes their hobby, that their artistic urges get focused onto him – maybe the little scarves and knickknacks his darling makes start being his size or having gray hair and gray eyes.

Maybe the poems they write start depicting a man of strong build, with callused fingers and a heart of gold.

Maybe the pottery they mold starts resembling two hearts beating together, symbolizing his and his darling’s everlasting love.

It’s sappy and he knows it, but there’s something about his darling being passionate that really speaks to him – maybe it’s because he sees himself reflected in them, but regardless it only fuels his obsessive tendencies, pushing him to learn as much as he can about the craft so he can impress you, just as he desperately wants to.

Smart

Again, this particular trait isn’t hard and fast for the chef, but it’s most definitely a plus in the stages of his infatuation forming. He’s always had a thing for smart, capable women; he likes the idea of a girl who isn’t afraid to be right, who doesn’t try to dumb themselves down for other people.

Of course, humility is important too (no one likes a braggard, do they?), but Osamu takes pride in the fact that his darling is so smart, that his darling is so talented. And this can take the shape of many different things – perhaps his darling is a gifted mathematician, able to solve equations with little trouble because they just get numbers.

(He likes to imagine the way their math skills might falter as he holds them over his knee, their pretty ass bare to him as he spanks them again and again, hearing them count aloud and grind their pussy against his knee in a way they think is oh-so-subtle.)

This could be his darling being strongly empathetic; able to understand the way others feel, putting them at ease and investing in making sure they’re okay while Osamu flounders to understand why they’re crying in the first place.

(He likes to think this is a sign that his darling would be a perfect mother, always able to calm down their children and make them giggle and smile, even while their knee is scraped up or their favorite toy is broken.)

It could be that his darling has knowledge of a very particular, niche topic; he could listen to them talk for hours upon hours, never losing interest as he nods along to their words, watching the way their lips move and form words, part of him forcing himself to listen while the other part wars to reach out and shut you up with his own mouth.

He just really likes the idea of a smart darling, one he can be proud to call his own, and if you were to tell him off with some logical, well grounded argument? Well, he’s still not letting you out of the basement, but fuck it all – one glance at his pants is enough to show you how your little speech has affected him, and he has no qualms showing you, either.

Optimistic

While Osamu isn’t necessarily a pessimist, he’s most definitely in the middle of the spectrum in terms of his outlook on life. He likes to consider himself a realist; he has no delusions about what life is (though, he most certainly does have delusions about what the two of you are), and he’s not embarrassed to say that more often than not, life has a way of choosing the non-ideal routes.

Of course, things could obviously be much worse (how can he say life is bad when it’s led to him meeting you, the single best thing that’s ever happened to him), but they could be better too. He’s neutral, really, which is why a darling that’s more optimistic would be a perfect fit for him.

Overwhelming negativity is exhausting, and if his darling only ever complains without anything positive to say, Osamu would quickly grow annoyed and tired of their presence, snapping at them to shut up, I can’t listen to you bitch anymore.

It’s not that his darling has to be always happy, always looking at the bright side (as this, too, can be equally as annoying as constant negativity), but he likes that his darling just naturally assumes the best in people.

Of course, it terrifies the protective part of him, the one that’s always paranoid about their safety and the intentions of others regarding them, but even for as much sleep as it causes him to lose at night, it’s just too damn cute. When they’re smiling at others and encouraging them through difficult times, Osamu can’t help but swoon; they’re just too adorable, too motherly, too fucking perfect.

He likes that they’re just genuinely a happy person – he’ll always lend an ear to them when they inevitably have a bad day or need to complain, but he’s quick to give them kisses all along their face and neck, whispering that they’re absolutely right babe, I hear ya.

He just likes how sweet it makes him, and only furthers his idea that they need protection – the world has a nasty way of dimming those that shine brightest, after all.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS

Controlling

While it isn’t necessarily purposeful, Osamu has a bit of a problem when it comes to being a prominent figure in your life.

He’s used to having to share everything, from the limelight to the occasional toothbrush, socks to volleyball shoes with his twin. He’s used to being known as ‘the other Miya’, as the chef with the famous athlete for a brother.

So to finally have you, something all completely his own, how can he be blamed for being a little more paranoid? Can he really be faulted when he’s just trying to make sure that you stay his and only his?

He’s not even really conscious of the way he slowly begins becoming an omnipresent part of your life, how those cold metallic eyes are always watching over your shoulder, staying fixed on your figure because every little thing you do is riveting to him, fascinating and something he needs to see, to make sure you’re doing as you should, that you’re staying safe and healthy and happy.

He doesn’t mean to come off as the controlling boyfriend (though, his tendencies of being more intrusive than he should be will start much earlier than the boyfriend stage – when you’re both still acquaintances, friends, when his obsession is still freshly new), but with the way he slowly begins demanding more and more from you, the message will be pretty clear.

You’ll likely write it off at first; his insistent questions of who are you going with when you tell him you’ll be out for the afternoon seeming oddly serious, but it’s ‘Samu, right? It’s Osamu Miya, a man you know isn’t as petty as being jealous over your time being spent with another, who isn’t bothered enough to be weird about it, right?

You’ll just laugh it off, though this has the opposite affect on the man in front of you – your laughter has him on edge, wondering if you’re lying to him, wondering if you’re going out to meet another man – what’s Atsumu up to tonight?

Suna?

Ginjima?

The paranoia eats away at him as he paces around, terrified that you might be flirting with another man, chatting and making eyes at some piece of shit, that he could be touching you and fucking you and making you scream out a name that isn’t Osamu fucking Miya – the paranoia is really rather extreme, the deeply rooted fear forcing him to get more serious much quicker than he’d expected.

Soon he’s not only asking who you’ll be with, but where you’re going, how long you’ll be out, what you’re expecting to do, when you think you’ll be home, where and when to be checking your phone for texts or calls from him.

You’ll think it’s strange, confusing why he’s being so weirdly protective over you (and being so damn insistent, as he’s literally grasping your hands in his and forcing you to repeat back a promise to check yer damn phone every five minutes, what if something happened? Ya understand, right? I have to be able to check in with ya when I need to.), but, just like before, you’ll just brush it off, nodding hesitantly and slipping out the door, unease crawling up your spine.

You’ll slowly come to feel as if Osamu is suffocating you, his presence overwhelming and always there, as if there’s no escape from his probing questions, his insistence on you always contacting him (though, the tracker he’s placed on your phone makes it so that his demands to update him on your location via text aren’t really necessary, but it makes him feel better).

And from there, things only get more extreme – he’s catching your wrist as you go to pluck a piece of fruit out of the pile, narrow gray eyes watching you as he tells you to choose something healthier, why don’t I just make ya somethin’ to eat?

He’s sighing and blocking the door when you leave the living area, telling you to sit down and drink the glass of water he’d given you before you go lay down in bed, before you use the restroom, before you shower or brush your teeth or yawn or speak.

He quickly becomes the sole dictator of your life, making you ask permission for every little thing, making you feel subservient and below him, making you feel as if you’re nothing without him, as if you can’t properly take care of yourself without his guidance, without him metaphorically (and literally) spoon feeding you.

And frankly, as irritating and terrifying as it is, it’s difficult to get mad at him – after all, Osamu doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. It’s not even about explicitly controlling you for him; it’s more about making sure you’re his and that no one else can get to you, to make sure that you aren’t being swept away or stolen by anyone else.

And of course, it’s to get you trusting him, relying on him, needing him, because isn’t that what relationships are about? Mutual love, dependence, desperation?

Protective

Going hand in hand with his paranoia and controlling tendencies, Osamu views you as someone who, despite your best efforts, isn’t really able to take care of yourself. He trusts you and loves you, at least as much as he can given his staggering devotion to you, and yet he doesn’t inherently trust you with you, with your health and safety and care.

No, that’s his job, him as the man and your caretaker and the only one who can actually take care of you, who can adhere to your every need, whether you’re aware of it or not.

He’s fairly domestic at heart, loving the softer moments, and you’ll notice this extremely early on with his obsession with you. He’s always trying to cook you things, and while it’s sweet, soon it’ll start getting a bit weird.

He’s got a full course meal for you every lunch, always your favorite foods cooked exactly how you like them despite never mentioning it to him in more than passing. He’s raising his chopsticks and telling you to say ahh, his voice soft and gooey, practically purring at you. He’s placing the sushi against your tongue and smiling boyishly at you, his cheeks dusted pink while pride swirls in his chest that you’re eating his food.

It’s sweet, at first, and damn can he cook, but once he starts showing up at your door with breakfast and dinner as well, inviting himself inside to eat with you and your family, chatting up your father and helping your mother cook, you’ll start growing uncomfortable, unsure of why he’s there.

You won’t know why he seems to care so much and why he’s subtly tapping your wrist under the dinner table, smiling softly and telling you to slow down a bit, you’ll choke if ya keep eatin’ like that.

It’s strange and it’ll feel beyond out of place, but Osamu is a charmer. He may not be as obvious or charismatic as his twin, but your parents will quickly be won over, everyone around you telling you how good of a person he is, how he’s such a catch, how he’s so sweet to you, won’t you just give him a chance?

He’s always pulling you closer to him, keeping you by his side so that you don’t stray too far, keeping a hand on your wrist or shoulder or waist or back, warm fingers pressing into your body as a discreet but strong reminder that he’s right there.

He’s grasping your hips as he maneuvers you to the side to avoid the crack in the sidewalk, sending you a strangely shy, boyish smile as his cheeks turn pink and he murmurs something about you being oblivious as hell, yer always getting’ hurt.

He’s quick to grab your wrist when you’re opening doors or grabbing something sharp or hot, sending you a small look as he does it for you, murmuring something under his breath about you being too delicate, can’t have ya doing something so dangerous.

He’s genuinely concerned about your health and safety, truly – he doesn’t mean to be overbearing. He’s not trying to be condescending by saying that you’re incapable of doing anything substantial on your own; of course not! He’s just concerned that you tend to be clumsier than he’d like, and what would happen if you tripped and skinned your knee, broke your arm, got a life threatening concussion that altered your life forever?

(Or, worse yet, made you forget about him?)

He’s just doing what he thinks of best, and the trouble with Osamu is that while he’s not particularly delusional, he’s also not particularly great at seeing the reality behind his actions. He knows he’s a bit more overboard on his protectiveness over you than he should be, but he’s able to honestly write it off as being chivalrous, as being a good, caring partner.

He thinks he’s being romantic and exactly what you want when he cuts the crusts of your sandwiches off for you (even if you didn’t ask).

He thinks he’s being attractive when he doesn’t let you package your own leftovers from the restaurants, claiming the food is ‘too hot’ even though it came out more than forty five minutes ago.

He’s just trying to help, and he’d never be able to forgive himself if you were hurt when he could’ve prevented it – after all, what does that say about his ability to take care of you? Does he even deserve to call himself yours if he can’t keep you from getting bruised or scraped?

Would you even want him if he can’t protect you like a man should?

Obsessive

Generally speaking, Osamu’s devotion to you knows no bounds.

He’s busy with his restaurant, cooking orders and managing paperwork, but in between shaping the rice and signing his name, every single thought is aimed towards you. He’s constantly idly wondering about what you’re doing, what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking, whether you’re happy or sad or whether you miss him.

He likes to imagine the way you look at any given moment you’re apart; he’ll imagine the soft smile on your face as you see a particularly cute pet when you walk down the street, your fingers itching to reach out and give it some love.

He’ll imagine the way you’d sigh to yourself and roll your eyes when your coworkers are being annoying again; he’s told you so many fucking times to just quit so you don’t have to worry about it anymore, but you always refuse and laugh him off.

(It pisses him off that you so lightly reject his advice; can’t you see how being there is ruining your mental health? Can you not see how it’s deteriorating you, how you’re so much more stressed now, how the money isn’t worth your time? It infuriates him, and he’s sure that once you’re living together, your full time job will be taking care of the house, not your own finances. He’ll cover that, so don’t you worry your pretty little head.)

He’s imagining the way you shrug on your jacket, zipping it up until it stops right below your nose because it’s fucking cold outside, how you’d look like a cute little hedgehog all wrapped up for winter – no doubt warm and soft and perfect to hold in his arms.

He’s always thinking of you in sweet, domestic situations; you’re just too adorable to him, and it’s always been his fantasy to find a partner and live out those horribly cliché romantic tropes he always sees in TV or reads in books.

He wants to be the one spoon feeding you warm soup on cold days, watching as you flutter your lashes shyly at him and compliment to new recipe he tried out (or, more accurately, the recipe he made up knowing your favorite ingredients).

He likes to think about waking up in the mornings with you, the sunlight streaming onto your face as you let out soft little breaths and even the occasional snore, making his nose scrunch up and a snort leave his laugh because fuck, he’s heard that nose through your window for years and now that it’s right in front of him?

He’s imagining falling asleep with you, too, helping you with the skin routine he demands you set up and carry out with him – he wants to have dozens of photos on his phone of you making a kissy face in the mirror with him, a white mask covering your skin and making you look like some sort of slasher serial killer.

He’s plagued by thoughts and fantasies of you in every shape and form. (Some much, much more explicit than the kind, domestic ones – images of you on your knees with cum dripping down your chin and onto your tits, your fingers holding open your pussy and turning away your head in embarrassment as he stares from above you on the bed, the way you’d wantonly moan out his name and scratch down his back because he just feels too damn good.)

And so, the basis of his obsession with you starts out almost immediately with gathering information about you.

He wants to fantasize these sweet (and not-so-sweet) moments with you, but in order to this he needs to know more, to learn more. He wants to know everything he possibly can; when do you fall asleep at night?

Do you spend hours staring at your phone in the darkness of your bedroom, or are you out the moment your head hits the pillow?

What kind of food do you like?

Do you eat breakfast, and if so how would you feel about breakfast in bed, with you woken up to the scent of freshly scrambled eggs and a few (much too heated) kisses to your forehead by Osamu himself?

Do you prefer to spend time with others or by yourself?

Are you an animal person, and if so would you consider getting a pet with him as a trial run for your first child?

He wants to know every possible detail there is about you – and he’s frighteningly good at it. He’s just so unsuspecting; he’s nice, funny, a stand-out guy to everyone that knows him, and why would you have reason to think any differently?

Sure, it may be slightly offputting with how insistent he is that he’s always with you and making sure others don’t get close to you, but you’ll answer every question he throws at you.

After all, it may seem a bit odd to be asked what your greatest fear is, but you’ll just  at him and puzzle over the answer, pressing a finger to your lip as you hum in thought.

It may be strange initially to be bombarded with so many questions about your future plans (where do you want to live? What do you see as your ideal marriage? Your ideal house? Your ideal number of children? Could you see yourself becoming a housewife or a stay at home mother?), but you’ll shrug off the sense of unease coiling at your shoulders and answer him honestly, because that’s just what friends do.

However, once his questions start teetering to a more questionable side, things that you don’t feel comfortable sharing with him, with another man, red flags may begin appearing for you. After all, why does he need to know your bra size?

The package of fancy lingerie that appears on your front door the next day in delicate lace of your favorite color surely can’t be connected to him, right? Even if the fit is perfect?

Why does he need to know how heavy your periods are; what knowledge could that serve him?

(Quite a bit actually, if the some twenty boxes of pads, tampons, and menstrual cups he’s hoarded into his closet in his apartment is any indicator.)

You’ll slowly grows confused by his efforts to know more and more, but Osamu is slick; he’s good at keeping information at bay, at comforting your fears because he's just such a nice guy, now won’t you please take another sip of your beer and tell him what position gets you seeing stars every time?

He just loves you, and he expresses his love by overfilling his brain with information of his favorite variety – you.

DEALING WITH RIVALS 

While it would be a stretch to say Osamu never feels jealousy, he wouldn’t be lying if he said that the majority of his unease with other men earning your attention lies from the perspective of simply wanting to protect you.

Of course, he doesn’t like the possibility of your attention and love deviating away from him, your pretty eyes no longer focused on his, your smiles and laughter no longer aimed at his words and jokes. He likes that you seem to like him – he needs you to like him, after all, but that isn’t the entirety of what fuels his jealousy.

No, it’s the paranoia that eats away at him every time he sees you in public with any number of other people around you. He knows what kinds of monsters a lot of men are – he went to school with a number of them, and while he considers his friends to be good guys, even his closest companions have said questionable things over the years.

Hell, he’s though some questionable things over the years – of course, he’d never act on them, but idle thoughts of wow, she’s got nice tits or those pants are tight, wish she’d bend over again shocking him and making his cheeks flush red. He always feels guilty, immediately leaving the room and not able to look the woman in the eye ever again, but if he, Osamu Miya, someone who likes to think of himself as a feminist and non-threatening to women, is capable of such thoughts?

Then what do the men that don’t hold themselves to higher standards think? What kind of sick, perverse thoughts are rolling through their heads when they see a pretty woman nearby, a pretty woman like you?

It makes his skin crawl to just think about it, and so while he knows that rationally four out of five men would never hurt you, there’s always the what if eating at the back of his mind. He likes to think of himself as a the chivalrous, traditional male partner who cares for and protects his lover, and what kind of a man would he be if he wasn’t able to keep vicious hands – and heaven forbid, cocks – away from you?

What does that say about his ability to protect you, his ability to keep you happy and safe by his side? And so, while jealousy happens to him fairly often, most of the time it’s an ugly mix of his own personal jealousy, his protectiveness, and pure selfishness that cause him to tense up and watch the scene with an extra careful eye.

Towards the beginning of his obsession with you, Osamu was much more reluctant to actually interfere in situations in which he suspected something bad may happen. Of course, the moment anything bad actually did happen, like the man talking to you and reaching out to touch your shoulder, forced him to spring to life, to come to your aid and make him out to be not only the knight and shining armor, but also to get you out of that situation.

He’ll always remember the first time he did this – you ‘d been cornered by a man at a park while Osamu ‘happened’ – at least, you think it was an accidental meeting – to be passing through. The man had been sneering at you and backed you up against a tree in a less populated area, with no one seeming to notice.

You’d been visibly scared; shoulders tensed up and little stuttered pleas for him to move falling past your lips, but the man didn’t seem to care – or maybe, didn’t seem to mind. He’d been quick to swoop in, stepping between you and the man, and while Osamu doesn’t quite have the same physique as he did in high school, his height and the still very clear muscles coating his arms were enough to have the man scuttering off, spitting at the ground and glaring at Osamu.

He’d immediately turned around to help calm you down, leaning down and placing his hands on your shoulders, and it’s safe to say that the way you hugged him and whispered your thanks only further cemented his obsession for you – if you were to ask in the future, that’s the moment he’d say he knew he was in love with you.

And so, after that initial turning point, Osamu hasn’t hesitated much when it comes to defending you against unwanted (or, even wanted) attention from men – it’s his job, after all, and the reward of you clinging to him is so damn worth it.

The bell chimes right as expected, Osamu’s back facing the door to Onigiri Miya.

He can’t help the wide grin that takes over his features, even as he tries to bite it back so as to not lose his cool. He’s sure a flush is coating his cheeks; you always come in around five o’clock on Wednesdays like today, ordering your usual – onigiris that Osamu makes specially for you, but would never tell you is only willing to make for you.

He’s molding the rice with his hands at the counter, grateful for the open concept kitchen and eating area because as he turns around and sees you walking up to the register, the breath gets sucked out of his lungs.

Fuck, you’re so pretty.

And you’re looking right at him – chuckling as you call his name and wave your hand again, breaking him of the stupor he’d been trapped in. He clears his throat in embarrassment and fixes his cap, wiping down his hands on his pants as he approaches the register.

You greet him and give him your order, mentioning off-handedly you’ve been looking forward to his food all day – it must’ve been the only thing that got you through work, you’re sure. Osamu’s heart melts in his chest, the feeling in his fingers fully gone as he lets the compliment sink in, but he’s almost on autopilot as he rings you up and takes the money from your hand, already pushing the tray containing the onigiri your way.

(He’d already had it prepared, something you asked with a laugh as you took the tray, though you’d turned on your heel after thinking him before you could hear his small, vulnerable of course.)

His shift takes what seems like forever after that – he’s trying to focus on cooking, on making sure the seaweed lays perfectly against the rice, the filling being mixed to perfection, not letting any customers wait too long at the register, but it’s hard.

It’s hard to not watch the way you enjoy your food as you sit at the table by the window, the overcast sky shining in on you and making you seem to glow.

It’s also hard to ignore the way the man at the table next to you keeps sneaking glances at you, and when he opens his mouth to finally speak to you once you’re roughly halfway through your food, Osamu’s hand involuntarily crushes the rice in its grasp.

He curses under his breath as he sets it aside, perking his ears up and straining to hear the conversation. He’s flirting, Osamu realizes with a gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach – and badly, too. All compliments about your looks; you’re looking pretty today, love that skirt on you. Do you work out? You’ve got great legs. Osamu feels a shiver roll down his spine, and suddenly the mishappen rice is forgotten as he can only stare at the interaction, feeling his body temperature rising rapidly the longer the stranger talks.

You laugh weakly at the man’s comment, clearly uncomfortable as you shift in your seat to get further away from the man who’s clearly leaning in towards you. Your fingers tap nervously against the table you’re seated at, the shop suddenly feeling much too empty to you.

Oh, uh, that’s very nice of you… you trail off, hoping to end the conversation in its tracks. Unfortunately for you, the man doesn’t seem to pick up your hint.

He resumes on, rambling on about his own workout regimen, even going so far as to pull back the sleeve of his t-shirt and flex, cocking a brow at you and offering to let you touch his bicep.

You refuse, as politely as you can, and turn back to face your food. This seems to displease the man, and Osamu watches with a sharp, dangerous inhale of breath as the man reaches over and grabs your hand, setting it on his arm as he murmurs out a doesn’t it feel good –

Osamu’s moving before he knows it, having jumped the counter and practically sprinting to reach you. His wrist slaps away the man’s hand, your own fingers retracting immediately. He stares down in anger, disgust, barely contained rage, watching as the stranger’s lips part, anger and fear swimming in the man’s black eyes. Get out. Harassment is not tolerated in this restaurant. Get the fuck out, and don’t ever come back.

His voice is deep, the scariest you’ve ever heard it, and for a moment even you’re terrified – of Osamu, of all people.

But it seems to do the trick; the man is out of his chair in an instant, almost cowering away as he shakes his head and haughtily scoffs, walking towards the exit and keeping his shoulders taut all for show.

Osamu growls, before spinning on his heel and facing you, his hands on your shoulders as he searches your eyes with his own. He asks frantically if you’re okay, bombarding you with questions while you simply stare, before lunging at him and wrapping your arms around him, your shoulders shaking slightly as you whisper your thanks over and over. Osamu freezes for a moment, a pink flush spreading across the plains of his cheeks, before his arms return the embrace, squeezing you so much it nearly hurts.

He stays like that for who knows how long, before you pull back and he begrudgingly lets you go. You gulp and tell him you’re okay, that you’ll just finish this last bit of onigiri and then you’ll be off, and Osamu only nods, a displeased look on his face.

He scruffs your hair as he stands up, smirking down at you as you whine a bit, before he steps out the door, following the path he’d seen the man take.

It’s not hard to find him, nor is it hard to shove him against the alley wall, his fist meeting flesh once, twice, five times as the howls in pain. He’s clutching his face in his hands and crouching down by the time Osamu is done with him, but all the chef can do is spit at him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and cursing under his breath.

Disgusting, treating women like that. Especially my women. Don’t you ever fucking come back, or next time I’ll kill ya. I’m dead serious. Yer fucking dead.

He seems happier when he steps back inside the shop, sending you a little wave to which you return, unknowingly making his heart flutter and his resolve harden.

Yeah, he’d do whatever it takes to make you safe and happy – even if it means roughing up his own criminal record.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY

To be quite honest, the prospect of kidnapping you occurs to Osamu disturbingly quickly.

He’s always seen himself as wanting to end up with a partner one day – a pretty wife that he cherishes and who cherishes him back. He wants to live in a nice, downtown apartment a few blocks away from his restaurant, the whole place painted shades of white and gray (he’d never admit it, but just to match his hair and because his skin tone looks best against the color), with maybe a cat or child running around not too long after.

It’s a fantasy, pure and simple, but while little fourteen year old him was embarrassed to be daydreaming about such a sappy idea (Atsumu had been more than willing to make him aware of how weird this was when he’d accidentally let it slip at sixteen), the embarrassment has faded with age until Osamu began viewing the idea as less of a desire and more of a sure aspect of his future.

And so, once his feelings of such magnitude for you form, you seem to fit perfectly into this image he’s built in his mind.

You’d be such a good partner – he’d love to live by your side, sharing the dinner table with you, a bed, a shower, even a toothbrush if you wanted to. (And in case you’re wondering, yes, he wants to.)

It’s remarkably easy to imagine stepping into a bath tub with you, his bare chest against your bare back as you lean against him, letting your wet hair fall over his shoulders and his chin hook above your head. He'd rub his arms up and down your shoulders, admiring the way you shiver in his touch before relaxing, the heat of the water making your muscles loosen as the shiny diamond on your ring finger winks up at him, validation that you’re his, that he earned you.

It’s surprisingly easy to imagine poking your nose with a dollop of whip cream as he makes a batch of eclairs, seeing the way your nose scrunches up and you giggle, wiping it off your skin and instead placing it on his lips, following it up with a kiss and mischievous tongue that licks away all the cream.

It’s disturbingly easy to picture the way you’d breathlessly whisper to him that the test is positive – we’re – you’re – you’re gonna be a dad, ‘Samu.

You just fit the entire fantasy oh so perfectly, and so it just feels natural to substitute in your form whenever he finds himself idly daydreaming about his future. It’s mostly during long shifts at the restaurant or late nights alone in his bed that the thoughts come, but after only about two months of his obsession reaching it’s full fledged rage that the notion that he needs to live out these fantasies really solidifies.

No longer is it something he sees himself eventually doing – no, he will be living out his hopes for his future life, and you will be the one doing it with him. And so, while he’d ideally have you consenting to this and choosing to move in with him, Osamu isn’t above forcing you, either.

Of course, he’ll ask you first; it’s intended to be casual, the way he brings up moving in together, your brows shooting up in confusion because we’re not dating, ‘Samu, right? So why would we move in together…?

And really, you don’t have to remind him of that – you’re practically dating, aren’t you? With the amount of time you spend together, the longing glances he gives you that he swears are returned, and the way you melt into his touch when he gives you what you think is a friendly hug or kiss on the cheek.

You’re basically already together – which is why Osamu decides that sure, you may be pissed at him for the first few days, weeks, hopefully not months of being his captive, eventually you’ll come around. You seem to have a soft spot for him, and he can treat you like he should – he promises.

He can make you happy, in ways you’ve never been happy before.

And really, as much as you won’t want to admit it, Osamu is right.

You are mad when you first wake up to a semi-familiar but not quite known bedroom, your chest rising and falling rapidly because this isn’t your home. You don’t remember going home with anyone the night before, so where are you?

It’s only once Osamu slips into the room, his face lighting up at seeing you awake that the pieces slowly start connecting, the lock he sets into place on the door’s deadbolt making panic eat away at your gut.

You’re mad, enraged, terrified, and all Osamu can do as you struggle and yell at him to let you go is sigh and nod his head, telling you that it’s okay, I understand this is scary, but it’s what’s best for you. For us.

Of course, that doesn’t get you any calmer – you’re quick to spit out allegations of him being crazy, telling him that there is no ‘us’, that it’s not okay for him to be locking you away with him for the rest of your life – as he so brazenly tells you.

Osamu is patient, though, at least at the start. He’s not delusional enough to believe that you’d be happy the moment you wake up in your new home, that everything would be rainbows and butterflies.

However, Osamu does eventually expect you to straighten up; maybe it’ll be Stockholm Syndrome, maybe it’ll be those feelings of attraction you’d held for him before being stolen away resurfacing once more.

Frankly, he doesn’t care – all he cares about is now you’re in his grasp, by his side, where he can keep you safe, secure, and his. And safe he’ll make sure you are; the entire house is nearly babyproofed, because while he doesn’t think of you as an infant or treat you like one, there’s a part of him that’s too terrified that you’ll see the knife and start getting ideas.

He’s scared that if he doesn’t have covers on all the outlets, you’ll take the fork and jam it in as far as you can go, hoping your heart will eventually stop beating. The thought is too much for him to bear, and so he’d begun planning to make his apartment (in a very exclusive part of town, thanks to Atsumu’s connections, complete with soundproof walls and more square footage than he could ever hope to use) as perfectly fit for the both of you as early as he could.

And so, once you wake up that fateful morning to his bedsheets, you don’t really have a chance at escaping. And despite being kidnapped, you’ll find that you don’t particularly want to; you don’t have too much anonymity, but at least Osamu respects you enough to let you do your basic hygiene alone.

He’s not accompanying you to the toilet, nor does he brush your teeth for you, nor does he dress you himself. Of course, he’d love to do any number of these things, but he still sees you as your own, respectable person – just a person that needs him, is all.

Some things Osamu will still force you to include him in, though; showering is an activity that is always done together, your wet, nude bodies hovering close as he runs the loofah over your back, dipping dangerously close to your ass as he breaths a heavy kiss against the shell of your ear.

Cooking is an event that while he mostly does alone (he doesn’t trust you with a knife yet), you’ll be seated at the dining room table, expected to keep him company while he flies around the counters with pots and pans.

He’s really not too terrible of a captor, really. He’s pretty physically affectionate with you, always pressing kisses against the crown of your head, your fingers, your thighs, your lips and neck, and his arms are always around your waist while he sighs and relaxes against you.

He’s touchy, yes, but every amenity under the sun will be yours when you’re under his roof – nice TV’s with access to every streaming platform you could want, because he knows you get hankerings for programs that are difficult to find.

You’ll have exquisite food, always prepared by him and hand made with love (and perhaps, other things as well, though you’d rather die than find out the secret ingredient of his famous fried rice).

You’ll have an assortment of fluffy, warm sweaters (all of which have been worn by Osamu and spritzed with his cologne, just to get you falling in love with his scent), and all the blankets and stuffed animals you could ever want.

He wants to spoil you, and his only rules are pretty easy to follow; obey him, don’t try to escape, and don’t try to do anything that could hurt you.

It’s not horribly complex, is it?

It’s really not, and after a while of being stuck with Osamu as your only human contact, his kind words, compliments, gentle touches and earnest desire to please you, you’ll slowly find yourself letting your guard down, developing begrudgingly loving feelings towards him. You’ll hate it at first, hate both himself and yourself, but at the end of the day you really don’t have a choice.

Because while Osamu may chastise you for attempting to crack your neck (you’ll break it, baby, don’t crack it like that) or wear something light weight when the heating is broken for a few days in January (put on yer jacket or my sweatshirt, can’t have you walking around in shorts and a t-shirt for Christs’s sake), it’s difficult to ignore the way he looks at you with such reverence and devotion.

And while it may have scared you at first, eventually you’ll come around to it – isn’t it nice to know how much Osamu needs you? Isn’t it nice to feel wanted and desired, to know you’re the reason your captor is living, breathing, smiling?

It’s a head-fuck, sure, but who cares? All you’ll ever know for the rest of your life is Osamu Miya, so why not make the best of it?

PUNISHMENTS

For the most part, it’s true that Osamu is a fairly lenient captor.

He’s not particularly harsh nor demanding, and he does genuinely want to see you smile and return his feelings. Those fantasies of having a loving domestic life with you that he’s harbored for so long bar him from any truly atrocious acts, like burning you or leaving scars on your pretty body.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, not only because it would ruin his fantasies of being your perfect, caring lover, but also because he’d never be able to live with himself if he knew he was the reason for you being in pain. He’s driven to madness by his love for you, but he’s still not fully detached from reality – he knows that causing you pain is wrong, particularly physical pain. He’d be no worse than all those men he was trying to keep you away from when he was still developing his feelings for you.

And so, Osamu tries to give you as much freedom as he can within reason. You’re obviously not allowed to venture into the real world by yourself, nor are you allowed to do anything he deems dangerous (though, while belittling at times, eventually you’ll start to agree that it is dangerous for you to handle knives and razors, that you should just let him cut your apples and shave your legs).

You’re not allowed to disobey him, either, because if there’s one thing Osamu can’t tolerate from you, it’s disrespect or purposefully going against his words.

He doesn’t particularly enjoy brats, and he wants to be able to trust you to keep yourself out of harm’s way; it would save so many stress induced headaches, his eyes wearily watching the clock as he desperately wishes time would hurry up so he could close up shop and head home to you. He’s not super strict, and frankly it’s pretty easy to placate him – just hug him and compliment him, tell him you appreciate everything he does for you, and let him pamper you for a while.

He’s more than happy to take care of you; grabbing water and whipping up a nearly Michelin level meal of your favorite foods, with a yummy dessert for the both of you to share.

(With only one spoon, of course.)

He’ll turn on your favorite movie and have you lean back against his chest, his fingers idly massaging at your scalp as you watch the bright colors and action, familiar with every line and making him chuckle as you recite it.

He’ll lift the covers over your tired form when you’re about to fall asleep, diving down below them as he trails kisses down your stomach and between your legs, wanting you to fall asleep while feeling good, even if it leaves him hanging and having to either fuck his fist or your pretty thighs while you sleep.

And so, you’ll discover it’s actually pretty hard to tick Osamu off enough to get him to punish you – but when you do, he’s remarkably good at shutting down the behavior, even if it kills him to do so.

Osamu’s always known he’s soft on you; he doesn’t claim to pretend that he’s the traditional man of the household, putting you into your place so that you’re always the subservient woman.

No, if anything, Osamu plays both roles – being the strong man in the relationship, and caring to your every whim and need. And so, while it makes his heart ache and his gut wrench in agony to do it, he knows that the best way to punish you is to stop taking care of you.

He thinks the fastest way to show you that he’s your everything is to stop being it for a while – not cooking for you, not holding you in his arms, not engaging you in conversation and asking about your day, not giving you more attention than you would ever know what to do with.

It hurts him (more than it hurts you, if we’re being honest), but it’s the only way – and so, as Osamu watches in displeasure as you shake your head at him, he’s internally sighing. You’d refused to let him bathe you again – you’d been feeling rebellious lately, and while you’d only been with him for about a month – not nearly long enough for the Stockholm Syndrome to set in to the degree he wanted it to – he was starting to get sick of it.

Can’t you see he just wants to give you the proper love and care you deserve? It’s so hard to properly wash yourself, and it’s such a sweet, intimate moment to let him take control of your body, to run the soap through your hair and down the expanse of your arms and legs. Your rejection of bathing feels like a rejection of him, and so he merely nods his head, those gray eyes fixed on you.

Okay, he tells you, sitting up from the dinner table.

The barely touched food in front of you is snatched away from you in the blink of an eyes, being scraped into the garbage bin before you can even utter a word.

You’re confused, your rebellious flare dying down as you stare at him, unsure of what he’s doing. Osamu doesn’t say anything more, merely washing the plates in the sink while willing himself to not glance at you.

(It takes an inhumane amount of self-restrain to accomplish this task, as he’s so used to stealing looks at you nearly every minute of the day, too mesmerized by your beauty to do anything more than gape like a fish, but he manages.)

And maybe it’s petty, but hearing the way you mutter his name has his resolve hardening, because fuck, you’re already cracking.

Once the dishes are done, he dries his hands and whistles a tune to himself, heading down the hallway to his office. Paperwork is strewn across the wooden top, evidence of the way he’d been procrastinating for days on doing it in favor of spending time with you, but now is the perfect time. With a heavy sigh, he plops down into his rolling chair, picking up the pen and getting to work signing and approving business transactions, visualizing where he wants the company to be this time next year.

He slowly grows immersed in the work, having chanted to himself too heavily at the start of the paperwork to ignore you, ignore you, make her dependent on you by ignoring her needs, it’s the only way.

And so, when you peek into his office room, biting your lip in worry, Osamu genuinely doesn’t notice. You’re not sure what’s going on – he’s never this dismissive of you, always asking you if you’re hungry or need anything, if you’d like to read a book together or take a nap.

He’s never gone this long with at least smiling at you, and while it’d likely only been forty five minutes since you’d told him in a moment of bravery that you didn’t want to bathe with him, it feels like a lifetime.

You watch for a few moments, before carefully sitting yourself in the plush armchair in the corner of the room, situated so that you’re watching his back as his pen flies across the paper and his finger across the calculator.

At some point, Osamu notices your presence, but he steels himself to remain visibly ignorant to you and your eyes that seem to be boring into him.

Soon he finishes for the night, groaning as he stretches his shoulders and arms, but as he gets up to leave he doesn’t bother to spare you a glance.

You heart aches; are you missing him? The thought has you biting your lip harshly, tears stinging at your eyes at the realization, but before you can anything you hear Osamu turn the faucet on the bath on, the sound of rushing water making you stiffen up. Perhaps… if you want his attention back, maybe you’d have to…?

Osamu's brows are tightly drawn as he strips himself of his clothing and steps into the tub, trying to let the warm water relax his tense muscles. He peeks at the (purposefully) open door to his left, wishing that you’d appear, but after five minutes of you not showing up, Osamu sighs.

This is the right thing to do, he just knows it – how else is he supposed to get you dependent on him, on his love and protection? He knows it, he swears, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, that his lungs don’t feel like they’re crushing under the weight of his heartache –

He’s brought out of his reverie as he feels a poke at his hand, opening his previously closed eyes to see you standing next to him, a nervous and somewhat embarrassed look on your face.

With a start, Osamu notices that your cheeks are wet and your eyes still a bit red, and immediately guilt is crashing into him; he made you cry, fuck. He blinks at you, trying to keep his face emotionless, and watches as you gulp.

I-um, can I get in with you? You’re asking in such a quiet, unsure voice, and for a moment Osamu threatens to break his careless façade, the urge to swoon at your cuteness nearly too much to handle.

He blinks once more, prompting you to keep speaking.

You play with your fingers as you stare down at them, letting the words fall off your tongue. ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a brat. I’m just – I don’t know. I’m scared, ‘Samu, of how I’m feeling. You stole me away, and I’m not supposed to love you or even like you, but I don’t think I hate you anymore. I think – I don’t know, it’s confusing, but I think that I’m starting to need you.

Osamu’s heart is racing in his chest, your admission making his chest flush bright red, joy eating away at him because are you being honest?

Are you speaking from the heart?

The way you look so frustrated at yourself tells him that you are, and with a swallow much too loud to be unheard by you, Osamu speaks. Do ya understand that I’m just trying to take care of ya?

You quickly nod, chancing a glance at him, only to find his gaze stuck on you, the intensity making you shrink back.

It’s silent for a moment, before Osamu’s face splits into the softest, happiest smile you think you’ve ever seen, his arms opening wide as the water splashes lightly against his chest. Hurry up, cold water’s no fun to be in.

Your lips part and your eyes widen, and quickly you’re stripping off your clothes, too relieved at the way he’s looking at you to be embarrassed as every inch of yourself is revealed to his prying gaze. Soon you’re clambering in, burying your face into his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso, letting him return the embrace as you whisper against his skin.

I’m sorry ‘Samu, I know you love me and just want me to be safe, I’m sorry I acted out. I won’t do it again, just – just please, don’t ignore me. I need you too badly for that.

Osamu’s never had such a warm, pleasant feeling sit in his stomach before, and neither has he had such wonderful, romantic sex in his life as that night – with you clutching at him, not letting a single inch of space between your bodies, his name rolling off your tongue in waves as you came again and again and again, all for him.

OVERALL DANGER

Overall danger rating: 6/10

Osamu isn’t too terribly dangerous.

As far as yanderes go, he’s somewhat tame; he’s mostly just extremely devoted to your safety, and in turn devoted to making sure he knows everything about you so that he can properly fulfill his duty as your lover.

He’s a bit of a sucker at heart, and so while he’s capable of hurting others on your behalf (and isn’t afraid to do so, if he feels your safety is being threatened), Osamu treats you with delicacy.

You’re precious to him, something he can think of as truly and wonderfully his; he doesn’t have to share you with another soul on this planet, and he cherishes the idea of being your one and only in the same way. He’s lovestruck, truly, and while his protective tendencies may scare you at times, it’s truly coming from a (mostly) good place.

He just wants you to be safe and happy and his, and so while it likely doesn’t win him many points to be relocating you to his apartment, chasing off any rivals for your affection, time, or attention, Osamu sees it as a necessary evil.

He’s always wanted to have and be a loving partner, and you’re the one he’s decided has to be it. So while he may not be the traditional knight in shining armor, all Osamu cares about is you falling for him, just as you should.

All he wants is for your dependence on him to grow, so that the two of your can be mutually addicted to one another, unable to go nary an hour without at least some form of contact, be that a smile, a touch, a kiss, or feeling your wonderful, perfect little cunt squeezing around him.

Osamu just loves you, and try all you can, but eventually you’ll return his feelings. And how could you not?

There’s something wrong with him, yes, but have you ever felt so loved?

Have you ever felt so seen, validated, wanted?

You never have, and you never will, so just accept it. Accept him.

#_lee's profiles #_general profiles #_osamu miya #_inarizaki #yandere haikyuu #yandere osamu miya #haikyuu x reader

[biwitchenergyz]

When Dragons Dance

Content Warning: Adult Language, Mentions of Drug Use, and hints towards grooming. I do not own any of the characters or songs used in this story, but I hope you enjoy and if you do, please let me know!

Chapter 2: Scream For Me

Songs used: I Was Made for Lovin’ You by KISS

It’s Aegon who shouts first. Running to the edge of the stage as the crowd erupts into cheers. Jace tries to talk but the fans are too loud to hear what he says, instead, Daeron hits the drums, and the voices die out until only Aegon’s is left. “Tonight, I wanna give it all to you. In the darkness, there’s so much I wanna do.” You heard this song before but for the first time, you flush. Aegon’s voice in the studio is nothing compared to his live performance. Singing on the stage his voice is sultry and seductive, it’s almost bedroom talk in a way that the recording hadn't been. He moves on stage like a predator, randomly finding prey in the audience that he sings to. Aegon wears a custom-made green jersey with his name on the back, it hangs loosely around his pale collarbone showcasing the silver chain around his neck.

Cregan startles you by yelling Jace’s name at the top of his lungs. Laughing, you snuggle into Cregan’s shoulder, a move he happily allows while his eyes remain fixed on the band. It’s hard not to enjoy the hype that these men cause. Everyone is filled with energy; fans hold up homemade signs or flash Aegon when they get the chance. He doesn’t seem to mind; he gives his all in the performance. Even taking the time to read signs while Aemond does a riff on the electric guitar. You find that it is hard to look away from Aemond. His Jersey is green, but it barely peaks out from his leather jacket and unlike any other member, he wears dark-shaded sunglasses that fully cover his eyes, but the longer parts of a scar still peak out from his right side. He shares the platinum white hair of his brothers but his is the longest and as he moves it seems to flow with him. His slim fingers play with the cords of the guitar as if they are elastic bands that he can bend to his will. It looks so natural that it almost appears lazy but by the determined, extremely sexy, look on his face you can tell he is giving it his all. Aemond appears like a fantasy. He has a look and a style that is unlike any you have ever seen, and he holds himself as if he knows it.

Your heartbeat begins again when Agon approaches his brother, signing to the audience as they both play, “I was made for lovin' you, baby, you were made for lovin' me. And I can give it all to you, baby, can you give it all to me?” You sit up, suddenly pulling away from Cregan’s embrace. The rest of the band plays on but your eyes are stuck on the two brothers as they move around on the small stage. There was something magnetic about the two of them, it was in their enjoyment of performing. All the boys seemed to enjoy what they do but something about Aegon and Aemond screams that music makes them come alive and that is what they show you as they perform. Aegon is clearly on a high, jumping and dancing along with the crowd. The cheers of the crowd set him alight with passion. Aegon bathes in the red glow of the stage lights, his voice echoes through the room as though he is a siren luring the audience in. Aemond is a completely different story. He doesn't approach the crowd, rather he stays back and focuses on the music which he is lost in. Four songs go by and yet the boys play on with the same energy as when they first came in. You think it may be one of your favorite concerts. An hour or more pass before you even realize it and soon enough the band begins to say their goodbyes. It isn't until the curtains close on them that you finally turn to Cregan, still smiling with adrenaline. “That was amazing!” You exclaim. You are almost shocked that you had never bothered to listen to them before. Cregan gives a knowing grin, and he proceeds to bow his head as though he was receiving an award. “So, you admit I was right about them.” For a moment you consider being snarky with him but with a sigh you say, “You were right…about them. Nothing else though.” Your teasing doesn't bother him in the slightest. Instead, he leans back, “Would I be right in saying you want to go meet the band with me?” You have never agreed to anything so quickly.

#aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond one eye #aegon ii targaryen #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #alicent hightower #aemond the kinslayer #helaena targaryen #jace x cregan #actress reader #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen

[fan-fantasies]

A Little Push

Warnings?: drug use (weed), I think that's it.

A/N: woah, I'm alive. It's crazy. It's been rough wanting to write literally anything, but here I am. Heather and I have been hyping each other up like crazy so I'm super excited. Just as a fair warning, this is not proof read, I'm super lazy and just don't want to. Regardless, I do hope you guys enjoy this, it was fun to write. -Breezy

Vermont was always lovely this time of the year, the leaves would change and the true beauty of nature would emerge for a small portion of time before winter would come along. You'd lived in Vermont for the majority of your life, having met your best friend, Heather, at a young age. She was the main reason you knew you weren't alone.

It was hard growing up being different, even if it was fairly easy to hide, but kids were ruthless and they were always willing to spill the tea to anyone who would listen. Nevermore was the one place you knew would be best for you, even after high school, a university for those who were different made you feel at ease. Though, even at a place full of outcasts, you couldn't help but feel different. As a siren, it was almost certain that you would have the confidence of God and the charm of an enchantress/enchanter, but you had found it very difficult to rise to those expectations.

Bianca was a prime example of who most people believed you should be. Everything about her is beautiful, her skin, her eyes, she just radiated beauty and honestly you envied her.. Maybe that’s why you never really spent time with the others, instead hanging out with Heather and the other gorgans. All of them were chill, never expected much, plus they were extremely funny. The notorious stoners were fun to watch as they got high, hell, it was fun to join them on occasion. They were just so excepting. Maybe that was why you and Ajax had gotten so close. To Heather it was pretty apparent you had a thing for him, you of course denied that. Even if you did, dating had never been in the cards. Being an outcast does that to you.

"Dude, come on," Heather began, "just ask him to hang out, hell, ask him if he wants to smoke a joint with you. He won't think twice about it." She rolled her eyes, "plus, he'd be hanging out with you and I know for a fact he'd never turn that down."

You sigh, putting your head down on the table you were currently sitting at. "Don't say that, you'll get my hopes up," you grunt, "no one ever wants to hang out with me, besides you." You whisper.

You hear Heather sigh in what you thought was defeat. You were wrong.

"Ajax! Come here!" She shouted causing your head to snap up, now looking in the direction of where she called. Sure enough Ajax came jogging over.

"Hey Heather, what's up?" His eyes met yours, "y/n, hey." He nervously said.

Before you could speak, Heather responded, "Y/n wants to hangout and have smoke, you in?" The way she said it was calm, forward but not in a pushy way.

You watched as a smile grew on his face, "Hell yeah, mine or yours?

You swallowed, "Y-Yours?" You stammer bewildered that he agreed.

"Great, stop by a little later." You respond with a simple nod before he walked off. You sat there stupefied, did that really just happen?

"Told you." Heather smirked, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I can't believe you."

She laughed, "I think the word you're looking for is, thank you." She teased.

Your expression must have shown your anxiety, Heather's face softened.

"Look, I know it's hard to believe someone other than me would want to hang out with you. Let's be honest, I'm not the most social butterfly either, like I legit could turn people to stone but please," she began, "give him a chance, at least be his friend." She begged. You listened to your friend, you'd been through everything together and you knew she'd never do anything to hurt you.

You nod, "okay, I will. Thank you."

She smiled, "Now, how about we go back to yours and get you ready for your date." She teased.

The hours leading up to meeting up with Ajax seemed to drag out causing anxiety to bubble up inside of you. You were finally gonna hang out with Ajax, alone. The idea of all of this made your heart flutter, it was finally happening. You'd snuck out of your dorm, down the long, and seemingly endless, corridors towards his room. When you arrived, you knocked softly hoping to not alert anyone around.

The door swung open with haste, Ajax stood there in his casual clothing with a small smile on his face.

"Hey come in," he spoke as he stepped aside letting you enter. He had some quiet music playing in the background, nothing that you recognized though.

"Did you kick Xavier out?" You joke, seeing as though it's just him.

Ajax rubbed the back or his neck, "would you believe me if I said no?"

You laugh softly, "no." You admit. He chuckled softly, not speaking again. He motioned you over to his side of the room, "make yourself at home, I'll go get a joint for us."

You hesitated before slowly walking over to his desk, taking a seat in his desk chair. You could hear him shuffling around, opening and closing drawers before coming back over. He had everything ready to go, he must have prepared ahead of time.

"What, you don't wanna sit with me?" He joked with a smirk before he flopped on his bed.

You felt your cheeks heat up but you nervously laughed, "Buy me dinner first." You threw back. A wide grin spread on his face, one that even the Cheshire cat would be proud of.

"Maybe after." He winked before motioning you over. You comply, standing from your current seat and making your way to his bed, now sitting across from him.

He took the first step, lighting the joint and taking a few shirt puffs before offering it to you. You carefully take it from him, bringing it to your lips and inhaling. The familiar burn filled your lungs as you held the smoke in for a few moments,then allowing yourself to relax before exhaling. You take another hit before handing it back to Ajax. The atmosphere was comfortably silent, the both of you just enjoying each other's presence.

"I'm really glad you wanted to hang out." He admitted before taking another puff.

You glanced over at him, "really? I know I technically didn't ask but I've wanted to hang out. We don't get to just hang out together, usually Heather or Xavier are with us." You ramble looking at your hands.

He chuckled, "you're right," he began, "which is why I'm glad." He explained.

You take another drag before responding, "I never thought you'd want to," you blurt, traces of smoke passing by your lips.

His eyebrows knit together, clearly confused, "why's that?" He questioned curiously.

You weren't sure how to respond, you sat in silence for a moment.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. Just know, whatever it is, you can trust me." He mentions calmly.

Your mind began to swirl with thoughts, you weren't sure if it was the weed finally starting to take effect.

"It's just," you begin, "I've never been good around people, Heather's always been my only friend since we were kids." You explain.

"You've known Heather for that long?" He pressed.

You smile softly, "Yeah, we grew up together, lived in the same city in this wonderfully cold state." You tell him, "it's kinda crazy to think about." You giggle. "But she's been the only friend I've had, once my abilities as a siren began to show most people avoided me. As sirens, I would say we are pretty charismatic but I've never seen myself as that."

Ajax remained quiet as he listened to you.

"Hence why I don't really hang around with the other sirens. I consider myself an outcast among outcasts."

Ajax shook his head, "well, if it makes you feel any better, I'd say you're the better of them." He put the, now finished, blunt in the ashtray, "in fact, I'd say you're the most attractive of them." He admits.

You felt your heart stop, had you heard him right? "W-what?" You stammer looking at him.

He lit another joint, "Yeah, I think you're beautiful " He clarifies before putting the joint between his lips. You look at him, taking in his features, his gorgeous eyes, kissable lips and the few unmissable snakes that would peek out from his beanie. It was a few moments before he noticed you looking at him.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing… I just…" You stammer, "can I kiss you?" You ask, having a sudden burst in confidence. Thank you weed.

He didn't hesitate, he placed the joint in the ashtray before moving it. You scoot closer to him, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You were nervous, and clearly so was he. You decided to just take the leap, closing the distance between the two of you, your lips brushing against each other. Your heart was hammering against your ribs as he pressed his lips now firmly against yours. The kiss was slow, warm, it sent electricity through your body. It was a strange feeling, but not anything you were against. It was clear Ajax was a bit hesitant, you weren't sure if it was nerves or something else, regardless you couldn't help but let out a giggle before pulling away. You could see the faint blush on his cheeks, his eyes slightly glazed over due to the effects of the weed. A dorky smile grew on his face, he didn't speak for a few moments.

"Please tell me we can do that again."

You laugh, "Yeah, I'd like that "

#wednesday imagine #imagines #ajax petropolis x reader #ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus imagine #ajax petropolus imagines #wednesday netflix

[spenceswife]

The boss’s idea

I made this a long time ago hope you enjoy :)

Errors along the way just to lazy to fix

Spencer has always been a little standoffish to me since I joined the BAU three years ago. So I’m still the newest, when I joined everyone welcomed me and we all got along fine. I got closer to Penelope Garcia of course but I couldn’t help but notice the team genius and I barely talk or knew anything about each other.

-

It was my first day at the BAU and I was nervous as ever. Kept checking the mirror every second I got before leaving for my new job. The outfits were very professional but very uncomfortable, the pants fitted but they were very tight showing each curve, the shirt sorta tight showing my back rolls and stomach. But I did look as good as I could and with that I left for a new start.

Arriving at the BAU I got my ID and headed to the clear doors. Before I could open it a handsome darker man opened it for me. “Here you go Miss” he smiled opening his hand to shake “Thank you so much. Uh do you know were Aaron Hotchner is?” He chuckled “You must be Yn Ln, I’m Derek Morgan. And yes he’s in that room up there. I could show you if you want?” He smirked.

We walked into the busy room seeing people walk by. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be fi-“ I was stopped by a very colorful dressed women. “Hi, oh my gosh! You must be Yn It’s so nice to finally meet to you! I’m Penelope Garcia the best Tech Genius in the whole entire world” she came in giving me a huge hug. “Chill babygirl dont kill her before she can work” Morgan laughed.

“Oh no she’s fine. It’s so nice to meet you too I hope we can become good friends!” turning back to smile at the blonde. “Hello you must be Yn I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner if your ready you could meet everyone else in the the board room we have a case.” I nod following his fast pace “I just wanna say thank you sir this is such a honor thanks for this opportunity” he smiled opening the door for me.

“Yn you did this, your a very bright girl you got yourself to this position I should be thanking you for another great agent. Now sit anywhere you’d like.” I smile going to a seat on the side. Three more people walked in a older man, a taller dark haired women she was so pretty, and a shorter blonde lady. Then shortly after a tall brunet walked in. I think I just died I have never seen such a beautiful man before. They way his hair fell messy all over his head made me turn red.

“Everyone please meet Yn Ln the newest member of the team.” He motioned them to me they all said hello’s except for the man of my dreams. “Uh sorry about him he’s just not really used to new people. I’m Emily Prentiss, thats David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau aka JJ, and the silent man himself Spencer Reid.” I nod making sure to remember Spencers name.

While Emily talked I didn’t notice he sat next to me not saying a word reading a book and turning the pages unbelievably fast. “Uhm I’m Yn your Spencer right?” I try making a little small talk sticking out my hand so he could shake. “Yes sorry about that I’m a little distracted. But I dont shake hands did you know its more safer to kiss then touch hands?” I laugh a bit at his quick fact but I worry because he still hadn’t looked at me.

“I see well nice to meet you” . He hums but I notice his cheeks become red.

-

And still to this day all he respond with is hums or only full sentences when he’s working the case with me.

We had just finished a hard case and everyone was extremely tired so Hotch decided that we could stay a night longer even though we had to go to a different hotel. When we arrived I hoped i would get a room to myself again but of course that didn’t happen. “We’re gonna have to double up tonight everyone. Rossi and I will share, Garcia and Morgan, JJ and Prentiss, Ln and Reid everyone have a good nights rest” When Hotch finished everyone looked at me smirking.

But of course Spencer was pretending I wasn’t there. “What are y’all looking at?” They scurry away going to there rooms chuckling. It was a awkward ride in the elevator we didn’t speak only looking at each other once in a while. As soon as the doors the open and we hear the ding he quickly walks out going to the room waiting for me to unlock it.

Putting the keycard in and opening it we drop our bags in disbelief there’s one fucking bed. “I will go downstairs and request another room” I sigh about to walk out. “No its fine Hotch said they’re short on rooms I don’t mind if you dont” he played with his hands looking me in the eyes. First time in forever.

“Yeah its fine with me I’m just really tired do you mind if I shower first” he nods “Yeah go ahead I need to catch up on some reading anyway.” He sat on a small chair in the corner. I smile to myself at how fast he got comfy. Getting my bag and my pajamas out I hurry to the shower ready to hit the hay.

Once I was out I did my skin routine then left the bathroom for Reid. “It’s all yours.” He looked up and smiled a bit heading to the bathroom. After fixing the bed I finally lay down and try to plan how not to touch Spencer tonight with me being a wild sleeper. I do a little reading of my own my favorite app Tumblr having all my favorite fan fics on there. Sure I’m a grown women who has a government job but I can still live out my teenage dream.

“Hey Yn I dont mind sleeping on the floor if it makes you uncomfortable” he said as his drenched hair made water drop onto the ground. “It’s ok I’m fine” a slight blush appeared onto my cheeks. Ew look at that me crushing like I’m in high school on a guy who doesn’t even like me.

He nodded getting into the bed being stiff as ever “I’m gonna turn the lights out that cool?” He whispered trying to get comfortable. “Yeah go ahead.” I yawn turning on my back. The lamp clicked and he laid back. It was silent for a few minutes while I thought. “Spencer?” I tap my fingers on my stomach “Yes Yn?” I take a few moments before responding “Why.. why do you not like me?” finally getting that off my chest.

“Not like you? If anything I like you too much.” He sat up confused only being able to see his silhouette through the dark room. “Well you dont talk to me and every time I come around you leave” I sigh out. “I’m so so dumb. I am very sorry Yn I didn’t mean to make it come out that way.” He turned towards me

“Then what were you trying to do Reid?” Facing him “I- I like you Yn but I could never tell you because all the people I lov- like they get hurt and I dont want you to get hurt Yn. So I guess I showed it in the wrong way I’m sorry.” A slight grin on my face knowing the guy I had a crush on forever likes me back.

“Spencer can I ask you a question?” Scooting closer to him “Yeah Yn?” He licked his lips a habit of his “Can I kiss you” and before I could even get a response his hands were on my face pulling me in. As our lips collided all that hate I thought he had for me slipped away. “Yn you have no Idea how long Ive wanted to do that” he chuckles pulling away. “Me too Spence” looking into his deep brown eyes.

-

On the plane back Spence and I were buddied up on the couch talking about books and movies when we felt everyone staring at us. “Hotch you were smart rooming them together because that tension could cut like a knife..” Morgan fist bumped him while we rolled our eyes.

I guess all it took was time and Hotch’s secret dating services.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #derek morgan #penelope garcia #plus size reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #fluff