#ah well it's not like it's as long as far was

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 6; ghoap x reader) parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

-

Johnny cleans up the lamp in the morning.

He might as well, being on second watch and all. Ghost wakes him up at the ass crack of dawn with a gentle kick to the ribs (gentle for him) before rolling over on the couch and going right to sleep. It’s routine for them to fall into sleep like rocks sinking in water, but the waking up is never quite as graceful. Johnny snorts awake and whips his head around sharply from side to side before confirming that he’s just in his girlfriend’s apartment and the asshole that woke him up is just his ornery lieutenant. 

“I better not hear any fuckin’ jabber,” is all Ghost says before closing his eyes. Johnny chews his lip to keep the grin off of his face.

He tries to keep it down after that. For the first couple of hours, he sits up against the wall and scrolls on his phone. That keeps him occupied until any lingering exhaustion is flushed from his veins.

There’s a broom and dustpan in a small closet in the kitchen where his girl also keeps the garbage bags and compost bin that he uses to sweep up the mess, and he tries to make as little noise as possible while he cleans up. The glass makes a tinkling sound as it’s swept up though, just loud enough that it inevitably wakes his girl up.

She comes creeping out of her room late into the morning, the shop not due to open for another hour or two. The late weekend opening hours mean she usually gets to sleep in. 

Weeks back, it used to be something that Johnny got to do with her as well, cuddled until she’d suddenly pull away, then waking up to her swallowing his cock, peeking under the bedsheets to find her pretty head bobbing up and down his length. Groaning and palming her head to press her lips down to the base, eyes rolling back at the sound of her gagging around his length, the base of his dick a mess of come and drool. 

In the present day though, she clears her throat. Johnny blinks and refocuses on her. 

Her eyes flit to Ghost’s still form on the couch and when they dart back to Johnny, he raises a finger to his lips. Let the man rest. It’s the least Johnny can do for him after he dragged him back to his girl’s place to make amends. She hazards another cautious glance at Ghost—his lieutenant lies still as a statue on the couch, motionless like he isn’t even breathing—before pursing her lips, displeased. 

In the light of day, his previous anger feels cleansed. He understands now. They’ve gone about this all wrong, topsy-turvy. He’s been chasing his own tail and making a mess of things for far too long now, but Ghost’s voice is clear in his head now. It settles him.  

So when his girl goes to open her mouth, maybe thinking that she can whisper softly enough so as not to wake Ghost up, he steps forward quickly and covers her mouth. 

She squawks behind his hand. Again, he shakes his head. Any sound would be too loud for the man slumbering on her couch. 

Johnny can feel her swallow behind his palm and it almost makes him salivate. His fingers twitch on her cheeks like he might press them into the soft skin and make her lips pout. 

“Not here,” he murmurs, almost mouthing the words.

He waits until she nods before removing his hand. Then he leaves to go dump the dustpan filled with glass into the trash. 

She corners him in the bathroom after that and it’s all he can do not to come in his pants. It’s not his fault he’s been trigger happy since Ghost tugged them off on the sparring mats and came on his stomach; he’s been pent up since the last time he saw her. There’s still flakes of dried come on his belly. He only half resists lifting his shirt to look. If his girl knew, she’d be mortified. 

He wonders if she’d be more upset that he let Ghost beat off on him or that he didn’t clean up his mess. 

Johnny lets the bird guide him to the toilet, letting her shove him down onto the lid.

“Ah, hen, ye really wanna do this now?” he teases, spreading his legs and wrapping his hands around her waist to reel her in, slipping up her shirt at the same time. 

He almost moans when she slaps him across the face, biting his lip when she gasps right after, surprised at her own actions. “Oh—fuck—I’m so sorry—”

He clicks his tongue, lips curling up into an impish grin. “Dinnae worry, baby. ‘M tougher than I look.”

It’s a small mercy that she’s too agitated to really look him over because if she were to direct her gaze even slightly south, she’d find Johnny’s shaft straining against his fly, hard enough to pound nails the second her hand touched his face. He swallows a groan and his fingers tighten, sinking deeper into her flesh. 

“I didn’t mean to—Jesus, it doesn’t matter.” He loves that when she gets frustrated, her bottom lip juts out. It makes him want to sink his teeth into it. “When your…boss or whatever…wakes up, can you please take him and leave?”

“Leave?” Johnny repeats, blinking up at her innocently. 

“Yes. Leave,” she says, stressing the word. He hums and strokes his thumb over the soft skin of her stomach, pleased that she hasn’t yet told him to take his hands off her. Sweet little bird. “We kissed and made up. That’s what you came for, right? So the two of you can get going once he wakes up.”

“No breakfast?” 

She looks distinctly unimpressed. “There’s a coffee shop down the block.”

“Aye, I ken, baby,” Johnny croons, pulling her in closer, smiling when she squeaks and braces her hands on his shoulders, his face almost cradled between her breasts. He turns his head to kiss one, mouth lingering over the cotton of her shirt, tempted almost to bite and rip it. “It’s jus’ that…seems an awful like the second Simon and I take off, you’re jus’ gonna go right back to cold shouldering me. Sure you’re nae jus’ putting on a little show for me now?”

Her fingers grip him by the fabric of his shirt. “Johnny—” She yelps when he bites the inside of her breast, snarling when she tries to pull away. “Okay, okay, okay, I got it—”

“That’s right,” he says with a content sigh, pulling back just the slightest bit. “You’re nae going anywhere. Not until we’ve talked this out, nice and civil.”

When she stares down at him, wide-eyed, like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing, it’s a rush like he’s never experienced. He feels right in the flow of things now, his head on straight for once. 

“What’s there to talk about?” she mumbles, and he almost melts. “I’m not mad anymore.”

“Nae mad? Then why’re ye trying to kick us out?”

“Because I’m busy, Johnny,” she snaps. “The shop’s opening in an hour and I don’t have time to babysit the two of you.”

“Ye willnae even notice we’re here, hen, I promise. Fuck, I’ll even help ye out—make some deliveries, go shake anyone down that still owes ye—”

“I don’t shake down my customers, Johnny—”

“Whatever ye need, baby.” He drags his palms up her sides, pulling up her shirt with his hands. Her tits pop out like ripe fruit dangling in front of his mouth, puffy nipples begging to be sucked on. “Simon and I will be right here. Ye can use us however ye want.”

He stares at her nipple while saying that, unconsciously leaning forward until his lips graze her skin and his tongue pokes out. She doesn’t budge, just curses under her breath and lets him rub his tongue over her beaded nipple, shaking in his hold. Johnny bets if he pulled down those little sleep shorts of hers, he’d find a wet little cunt begging for a fat cock to fill her up. 

It’d take nothing for him to pull them down and give her what she’s asking for. The love of his life is tucked away beneath a layer of flimsy cotton and begging for him to give her some love and affection. Johnny hasn’t kissed her in God knows how long—a week? Two? He’d probably find her swollen and aching beneath her shorts; could get her to come just by dragging two fingers up the seam of her. 

He knows what Ghost would say though, so he drags his teeth over her nipple just for the pleasure of feeling her flinch and then pulls back. The bird blinks down at him with hazy eyes when he helps readjust her shirt, pulling it back down to cover her gorgeous tits, a damp spot on her shirt over the nipple he just had in his mouth. 

“We’re not going to…?” she asks, letting the question dangle in midair. She says it without thinking—clearly, because the second it dawns on her that she just asked if they were going to fuck in the bathroom with Johnny sitting on the toilet, she looks horrified with herself. It’s beyond endearing. 

“No’ with Simon in the other room, baby. Wouldnae be fair for him to have to listen in.”

He doesn’t tell her that fairness in this case doesn’t mean cruel. It means that it wouldn’t be possible. 

Still, he needs to shoo her out of the bathroom to tug one out into the toilet bowl. Johnny would be half tempted to jerk off onto her mirror just to leave his mark where she could see, but he has some manners. 

He gives himself a nice, leisurely tug with the help of his girl’s expensive hand lotion. It’s not as viscous as the lube in the gallon tub on his nightstand back at the barracks, but it’s a good substitute; makes his hand glide nicely over his shaft.  If he closes his eyes, it even smells like her, like it’s his girl giving him a morning reach around, and part of Johnny wonders whether he was too quick to kick her out of the bathroom. Ghost wouldn’t begrudge him a quick and dirty jerk.

The thought dissolves the longer his hand flies over his dick though. Hard to think about anything outside the present moment when his hand is braced against the wall and his orgasm barrelling towards him. When he comes, it’s with a deep, shuddering grunt, not even bothering to muffle the sound. He hopes his girl hears him from the other room. He hopes it makes her squirm and ache. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, another voice takes him by surprise.

“Johnny. You’re on breakfast.”

Ghost’s voice is gruff in the early morning hours, abrupt. Rarely could it be classified as gentle, but it’s like chert rattling in a leather bag after hours of disuse. Especially since it comes out of nowhere, the man asleep one moment and awake the next. Johnny’s worked with him long enough to not flinch at the sudden sound of his voice, but his girl hasn’t; she yelps when his voice comes unbidden from the couch, big body suddenly upright like he’s been awake the whole time. 

He’s no cook, but Johnny can rustle up eggs and bacon like any other self-respecting serviceman. On deployment, they used to rotate cooking duty every night, no one skilled enough to take over the post permanently. Still, Johnny eyes Ghost worriedly when he takes a seat across from the bird at her little kitchen table. It’s not a table meant for two grown men, just a small wooden thing with four chairs, only enough for one on each side. It means that Ghost’s knees knock against hers when he takes the chair across from her, forcing her to curl up into herself, tucking her legs under the chair. 

He stares her down. Menacing eyes. Not the kind of man you want sitting across from you, no matter the circumstances. It makes Johnny anxious to turn his back on them when he has to crack the eggs into the pan, checking over his shoulder religiously. The whites go crispy at the edges before he remembers to flip them over.

“You work downstairs in the flower shop,” Ghost says bluntly, breaking the silence. His first words to Bird all morning. Not a question.

“…Yes,” Bird answers gingerly. Her palms are clamped over her knees, sweating likely. “I own it.”

“Since when?” He doesn’t blink before firing off another question.

“Um…two years.”

“Where’d you work before?”

“In…in London. I was a shopgirl there though—”

“Where’s your family from then?”

It goes on that way for a time, an interrogation with no rhyme or reason. Even Johnny has to wonder at Ghost’s intentions—knows that there’s no shot that Ghost hasn’t already done a background check on her. Why interrogate the bird then? Why rattle off question after question in such quick succession? Why make her tremble and look down at the tabletop and stutter out her answers and fidget under his stare—

He notices Ghost’s hand slip beneath the table to grip his length, spreading his legs to help readjust.

Ah. Mean bastard. Of course he’d get off on making her squirm.

The bacon burns. Johnny can’t help it. He listens attentively to her clear voice—softer in the morning hours, still sleep-laden and flowery—whispering out her life’s story, dick getting hard behind the kitchen island. He bites his lip to hold back a moan when she trips over her words. Thrusts forward to rub his bulge against the underside of the island when she chews on her lip, relieving some of the pressure. It drives him mad that there’s a wet cunt going unsatisfied just a few feet away. 

Ghost shoots him a sharp look as if he can hear his thoughts. “Johnny.”

He turns around to flip the burner off.

#there are like 2 more parts to come btw - it's not done yet. im just doing 2k chunks #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader #soap x reader #soap x you #soap/reader

[infictionalwonderland]

Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)

(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)

“She’s here!”

The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily—a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.

You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.

You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.

(You were in love)

“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.

Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.

“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.

As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.

“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”

“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.

“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”

“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.

All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.

“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.

“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”

“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.

She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.

“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”

“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”

“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”

Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.

“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.

“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.

Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.

“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”

“I would like very much.”

You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.

“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”

“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.

Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.

She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.

“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.

“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.

“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“

“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.

He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.

The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.

Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.

“This—this is hardly—“

“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.

You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.

“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”

“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”

“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”

“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.

You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.

In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.

All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.

The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.

People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.

Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.

Eloise and You blinked.

“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.

The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.

When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.

“Besotted—?”

“Shut up!”

As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.

Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.

#eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #wlw #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine

[obeymematches]

very fluffy and in depth hcs of a mc that basically lives off of cuddles? if you dont wanna do all of them can you only do lucifer, mammon, beel & diavolo? its fine if you dont wanna write this request tho! <3

i just need to snuggle up with them and maybe receive a forehead kiss yknow?

(also its def not bc of their man boobs wdym..)

thank you baby for sending in this ask, writing it cleared my skin and watered my plants- 💐🌸🌻

also your taste in men is very good 💯💯💯

this just teeth rotting fluff. GN MC.

❤️Cuddling HCs❤️

Lucifer:

Cuddling can only happen at night / the evening. Even on the weekends he is too busy to be cuddling during the day.

When you get in bed next to him he usually smells like coffee & sweat ngl. At first he does try to hide it with a nice expensive perfume but it might be best to cuddle after taking a shower.

He loves it if you curl up against him, laying your head on his chest. He is surprisingly gentle with his strokes in your hair!

He prefers not to talk or just very short I love yous are accepted. This is his calming, recharging moment.

His arms are strong as he puts them behind your back, or under your head if that's what you prefer. His weakness is stroking his head between his ears and forehead.

He is very glad to kiss your forehead without you having to ask! He is actually very affectionate if he is with you, and only you! Prefers holding one of your hands the entire time.

My love... Holding you in my arms in this moment makes me feel tranquil. As if nothing could ever go wrong again... I am aware it only lasts such a short time... I'm truly sorry we can't do this more often. Can you forgive me, my dearest?

Mammon:

Here is some Mams cuddles

Beelzebub:

Cuddling Beelzebub feels like the most natural thing. You fit just right under his arms, his legs. He can go on like this for hours. Nothing else has to happen and he is the most content demon in the world.

Being so close to him makes you realize he smells like deodorant and grass.

Likes to eat as you cuddle! Always brings you your favourite snacks! He can fall asleep very quickly like this though. Please just stroke his back he is going to melt into your touch.

He is going to kiss you with his hand holding yours to the bed. He kisses you very passionately, towering over you, using his tongue as he should; gluttony gets the best of him.

Very gentle with you the entire time. Carefully moves every inch of his body not to hurt you.

If you decide to lay too far away from him he just sweeps you right where you should be; entirely next to him!

Skin on skin contact is very important for him, pls don't wear too many clothes!!

I'm stronger now, but I can grow even more if you stay by my side. I'll do everything to support you, and I hope you will continue to support me too. I love you. So very deeply. Thank you for being here with me.

Diavolo:

I just think he enjoys being the little spoon. He can be the tiniest little spoon if he wants to!!

Loves to talk. This is no time to be quiet for more than 5 minutes. Something always comes to his mind which he wants to share.

His smell from up close isn't so easy to describe; it's a lingering smell of expensive parfume but also pine tree.

Can and will cuddle you in the afternoon if he/you needs it. Tea time can buzz off this is 300% better.

Talks about how nice it was to Barbatos. Poor Barb doesn't know how to react to this information.

Ah he definitely plays with the blanket; he likes to tuck you in real well, sometimes pull it over your head and kiss you in the dark.

Tickle fights are inevitable if you cuddle for too long. (He doesn't want to let you go pee but you must. So you tickle him.)

Sometimes he can forget how heavy he is though and if he falls asleep while on top of you, you'll be sore by the time he wakes up.

Ah just imagine the pure joy in his eyes the entire time.... sigh

My darling y/n... You are my most precious treasure in the entire world. You enchant and fascinate me, and each day, you ignite me.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x mc #obey me swd #obey me! #omswd #omswd lucifer #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #swd obey me

[sorceresssundries]

Writing promp:

Gale and Tav’s first night in Waterdeep, post-wedding. Both are cuddling on the couch under a blanket, Tav slowly drifting in and out of sleep.

Gale’s in tears as he really can’t believe his luck, with Tav comforting him.

(I’m a romantic sap this evening.)

By the Firelight

Pairing: Gale x male Tav - SFW

Word Count: 800

Now i'm a romantic sap!! I hope you enjoy a little bit of sweet, newlywed bliss. Thank you anon, for the prompt xx

The two Mr. Dekarios were curled up on their favourite sofa in their tower, both still in their wedding robes, drunk on love, joy, and far too much wine. The warmth of the crackling fire beckoned them towards sleep, and they were so entwined they might as well have been one person. They were, really - these husbands of Waterdeep. The broken heroes who had met in dire circumstances and somehow fallen in love amidst shadow-curses and bloodstained battlegrounds. The clash of steel had been their ballad, relentless travel their courtship. Yet, by some miracle, love had settled, flourished, endured, and wrapped them into one person.

Gale had always been one for the grand gesture, for loud declarations and intricate acts of service, it was only now he was able to sink into the quiet, delicate moments he could fully understand the true depth and balance of being the other half of a person. How lucky he was, to be the other half of someone like Tav. No, he thought, correcting himself. Not someone like Tav. There was no-one else like Tav.

Before, he had believed that in order to be loved wholly, he had to chip away parts of himself and squeeze and twist into the cramped chambers of hearts he did not belong in. Tav’s heart was a welcome sanctuary, and no sacrifices or tolls were required to settle into its soft comfort. It was the place he realised he had always been working towards, and now he was there - it felt like finally coming home.

Gale raised his hand from his beloved so the new ring adorning his middle finger could catch the light. The flickering flames made the colours dance together, and the shimmer in Gale’s eyes made it look to him as though the ring was giving off its own glow. As was tradition, they had each designed a ring, which, during the ceremony, had been cut in half and the non-matching halves fused together to create their union rings. Gale was delighted with the blend of their two designs, with how different they were and yet how seamlessly they flowed into each other. Half of the ring was a simple, slim band forged from pure silver, a mythical metal said to offer protection to its wearer, and the other was intricately braided from gold and copper, resembling a beautiful autumn vine. 

“Are you crying again?” Tav murmured sleepily, not raising his head from Gale’s chest. 

“Not at all, Mr.Dekarios. ”Gale cleared his throat and blinked away the tears. “Just got some dust in my eye.”

“Ah, more dust is it? How strange. There seemed to be plenty of dust in the tavern as well” Tav raised his head to offer Gale a sweet kiss, before settling back down and nuzzling his face against his chest like a cat.

“Is it because of the whole incident with Lae’zel and the cake?” Tav’s voice was low and tired “Because I think she was just trying to be helpful.”

Gale smiled at the memory, “My mother spent a fortune on that cake, and she sliced through the middle of it with a steel sword.”

“She thought there may have been a Kobold in there.”

“Yes, well she also thought the priest may have been a shapeshifter, but luckily we managed to avoid that potential bloodbath. All that was in that cake was a small fortune’s worth of traditional almond sponge.” 

He felt Tav’s laugh rumble against his chest “I found it very funny.” 

Gale kissed the top of his head, “Well, as long as it made you laugh, my rose. I’ll forgive her.”

The day had been filled with laughter, Gale had never laughed so much in his life. He had laughed so much with Tav it became as instinctive as breathing. They had danced, and kissed (to Tara’s disgust), and smiled until their rosy cheeks ached with joy. He was alight with unfiltered happiness.

Gale let the tears spill and held Tav tighter. 

Tav stirred once again, and when he kissed Gale he could taste the salty tears on his lips. 

“Normally, I would tell you not to cry.” He smiled and kissed at each tear on his cheek. “But you have earned your joy, and I don’t think you should hold any of it back.” 

They settled back together in gentle silence, their breathing in sync and touches reverent and loving as they held each other in comfortable bliss. 

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Tav’s voice was just a sleep heavy whisper, barely audible over the crackle and popping of the simmering fire. 

“What’s that, my love?” Gale stroked his hair, and listened as Tav’s breathing became deeper and their eyes fluttered with the weight of oncoming sleep.

“The next adventure.” Tav sighed, before slipping away to dream of his dusty-eyed husband.

#gale x male tav #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale fanfic

[lulublack90]

Prompt 23 - Desk

@jegulus-microfic May 23, Word count 773

Previous part First part

Regulus had spent so much time in Gryffindor Tower this last month and a bit, that he might as well swap his green and silver tie for a red and gold one. He clamped down on that thought. James could almost read his mind and if he even caught a whiff that the thought had flashed through his mind, James wouldn’t let him leave the dorm room without one of his ties around his neck. It had been bad enough last night when James had suggested to the others that they should make Regulus a marauder after helping with the prank. 

The common room was eerily quiet, even with a handful of Gryffindors milling around. No one batted an eye at Regulus appearing at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Another sign that he was spending too much time there. Strangely, no one in Slytherin had said anything. He was finding it hard to believe that no one had mentioned it around the school. Something like this should have spread like fiend fire.

Sirius finally joined them in the common room, and they headed towards the portrait hole. 

Regulus’s hands instantly snapped up to cover his ears as the fat lady’s portrait swung open. People were shouting and screaming in the corridor. But when Regulus looked out there was no one there. He blinked and looked again. There must have been at least twenty invisible people there. Something clicked as the fat lady’s portrait closed behind them. She’d disappeared, but there were three of Sirius’s pigs rutting up the grass in the garden behind where she usually stood.

The five of them walked forward. Remus passed around fluffy earmuffs he’d conjured and Sirius immediately snatched the pink ones from Remus's hands. The first portrait they got to was a landscape of a Scottish farm house. The farmer and his wife were outside with their giant scraggly dog herding six of the pigs into a large pen. The farmer and his wife were shouting at each other loudly. 

“Hamish, they need to go to the left.” The wife told her husband as the pigs went the wrong way. The scraggy dog was having the time of his life by the looks of it. 

They moved on to the next painting. Seven astronomers brandished their wands at the pig blocking the staircase out of their tower. The pig seemed quite happy where it was sleeping and for some reason their spells had no effect on it. The wizards yelled and threw their telescopes in annoyance.

In the next painting, they watched as a knight on a squat pony raced across the grounds of a ruin with about fifteen of the pigs charging after them. 

“Back, back you mangy curs!”

The grand staircase was even more chaotic. There were hundreds of paintings hung there. Regulus and the others hand to press the earmuffs into there ears to block out the deafening sounds of the pig squealing. 

The great hall was blissfully quiet, there were no paintings or portraits there. For once, the doors were kept closed for the whole of breakfast. Regulus had had to wait for a few moments before he followed the marauders in and had pulled off his earmuffs as they were all still sporting theirs, and he didn’t want any of his fellow Slytherins to make the connection. 

“It’s nuts out there,” Avery grumbled as he ripped a bite from his toast. 

“My money's on Potter and his disciples,” Snape sneered in their direction. Regulus had to work hard to keep his face blank at how spot on Snape was. He tucked into his porridge and checked he had everything for the day ahead. 

He had Charms first, so at least he wouldn’t have far to go, but he couldn’t deny the thrill he felt at the chaos that had taken over the entire castle that no one would ever think or believe that he’d been a part of it. 

He sat at a desk at the back of the Charms classroom. Silencing charms had been put on the door so they could learn in peace. It wasn’t long into the lesson when a piece of parchment appeared on Professor Flitwick’s desk. 

“Ah, yes.” The tiny professor exclaimed as he scanned the note. “Right students, Professor Dumbledore has cancelled classes for the day, you are all to go back to your common rooms and wait there until your head of house gives you further instructions.” Regulus couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face. His first prank had been a complete success. He headed up to Gryffindor Tower without even thinking. 

#may 23 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus fic #regulus black #james potter #dead gay wizards #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #sirius black #remus lupin #Avery #severus snape #professor flitwick #professor dumbledore #the marauders’ era #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders prank #james x regulus #regulus x james #james and regulus #regulus and james #james potter x regulus black #desk

[starstruckkittensweets]

Paper Cranes

Osamu Dazai x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

I've had this fic idea in my head since Christmas, and finally finished it up when I was supposed to be doing my homework. (Help I've started grad school and I already regret everything.) Also I've never written for Dazai before, so I'm a little nervous as to how this will be received. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

warnings: fem reader, a bit of profanity because learning origami is hard damn it, Reader is a bit insecure but she tries, and Dazai is a little shit who loves attention || words: 2.1k

It’s nearly an hour after closing when he finds you, still hunched over at your desk.

The rest of the agency has gone home, the first rays of the setting sun streaming through the windows. He’d left a few minutes ago, just to kill time at the café until you’d finished your work. But it’s been nearly a half hour by now, and Dazai’s starting to get a little antsy.

He just wants to spend the rest of the day strolling through the city without a care in the world, with you at his side. So what’s taking you so long?

But you don’t seem to be doing paperwork like you were when he’d left; instead you’re focused on a piece of colorful paper in front of you. A shade of green, folded in half on both sides with a few messy creases down the surface.

You haven’t even noticed him yet, too engrossed on the little piece of paper. Folding it in half again, before tucking the sides underneath the top flap. Eyes dart back and forth between the paper and a little book sprawled open at your side; your tongue pokes out the corner of your mouth as you fold the sides of the paper to meet the crease in the center. 

As quietly as he can (and he actually tries to be, Kunikida would be so impressed if he saw him now), he makes his way towards your desk. Careful not to disturb you, although you seem to be lost in your own little world. You don’t even realize his shadow’s crossing your own on the floor. 

Are you…? 

His suspicions are confirmed when you pull the top half of the paper back, forming a long diamond shape with the sides tucked in. The wings of a crane, albeit a little messy. And slowly but surely, he can feel the corners of his mouth pull up in a smile—you seem to be doing really well so far… 

But then you tug just a bit too hard on the second flap, tearing the paper straight down the middle. You stare at the broken pieces in your hands, lips parted slightly, unable to tear your gaze from 

“…Fuck it.” 

You shake your head with a sigh, toss the pieces in the trash with a little more force than necessary—and nearly jump out of your skin when you see Dazai standing just a few feet away from your desk. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a smile (and noticing the way your bottom lip trembles between your teeth), “I thought you’d be done by now, no?” 

“Ah…”

Your eyes dart almost nervously back to your desk, as though you’re just now realizing you haven’t been doing any actual work for the past fifteen minutes or so. Your chest heaves with a sigh, arms stretched out in front of you as you roll your shoulders.

“Sorry, just killing some time. Anyway, you wanna head out now?”

But his eyes are fixed on the little trash can beside your desk, and the multi-colored scraps of paper decorating the top. Your cheeks flush with heat as he glances back up at you, a playful smile on his lips.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for origami!”

“I…don’t.” Your throat feels unnaturally tight when you swallow. “I’ve never done it before, I thought I’d try it out, but…”

Turns out it’s actually much harder to do than it looks. Turns out that, no matter how many instructional books and videos you follow along with, you can’t seem to grasp even the most basic concepts. For the love of God, it’s folding paper into different shapes—how hard could it possibly be?

Very fucking hard, as a matter of fact.

You’re about to slap the little book closed and shove it back under the stack of paperwork on the corner of your desk (you know, what you should be working on instead), when a shadow blocks out your sun. Dazai hums to himself as his eyes skim the instructions, the little detailed pictures above the words, bold and dotted lines to mark each fold and crease.

Then he shakes his head with a laugh. “No wonder, they left out a few important steps…”

Your mouth falls open as he grabs a random chair (probably the one from Kunikida’s desk) and plops down right beside you, his elbow brushing against your own. He takes a small slip of paper from the stack in front of you—pure white this time—and gives you a smile that makes your heart leap in your throat.

“I can show you the right way to do it, if you’re interested?”

You don’t have the strength to deny him, even when he uses that familiar teasing tone. You simply nod your head and grab another sheet, a light pink shade that’s easy to see any creases you’ll make.

He waits until your eyes are back on his to start your little lesson. Folding the paper vertically, horizontally, diagonally until eight little creases stare back at you. He nods when you’re finished; the silent praise sends your heart hammering in your chest.

“Now shift it like this”—he turns the paper diagonally—“and tuck the sides in like this. Like you’re making a smaller diamond shape.”

He folds the paper so elegantly, so beautifully, you almost don’t realize he’s talking to you. You swallow and follow his lead. A bit shaky with your creases, but at least now you have a diamond shape that roughly mirrors his own. 

“…Looks like a frog’s legs, huh?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Wanna learn how to make little frogs next, huh?”

“If you don’t mind teaching me,” you answer with heated cheeks.

“I’d be delighted to! But one thing at a time. If you can make a crane, you can make anything.”

If you say so. Dazai can be incredibly convincing when he wants to be. Has a habit of pumping you up over the smallest of tasks. Sometimes it’s helpful (when it comes to handing in paperwork on time), other times it’s overbearing.

“See this middle line right here?” A finger slides over the crease in the white diamond. “Fold these edges so they meet in the middle.”

Seems easy enough. Now both papers look like little kites.

“Now what?”

“Take the top corner and fold it down. On both sides.”

Wait a minute. “…Could you repeat that?”

“This corner,” he points to the top of the kite shape, “fold it over like this.” He angles it down, creasing it down to meet the line in the middle.

“But…why?”

Must be one of those extra steps he mentioned, you don’t remember anything like this in all the books or worksheets you’ve read through. But you don’t really see the point in this one. Won’t the crane still look the same if you don’t do this part?

“Here, I’ll show you.”

Dazai presses down on the newly made fold, before folding it back up to maintain that kite shape. He flips it around and glances over at you; you jump and take it as your cue to continue, following his lead with shaky hands.

“See? You got it.” He gives you a smile, and you swear you feel your heart leap in your throat.

…Stop looking at his hands.

But you can’t help it—they just look so dazzling against the paper. His fingers glide against the surface, tucking each corner perfectly, pressing along the sides with just enough pressure… He’s built up quite a bit of experience, with all the paper airplanes he’s made out of his paperwork (along with Kunikida’s and Atsushi’s).

A snicker pulls you from your daydream, and your cheeks flush with heat when you see his eyes fixed on your face.

“Don’t daydream on me now, love, we’re only halfway done!”

You clear your throat and glance back at the kite shape in your sweaty hands. “What’s next, huh?”

 “Now open it up, tuck these edges in, and it looks like this.”

You follow his lead, eyes darting back and forth between your paper and his—and you have to admit, folding the edges is much easier now with that extra top crease he’s made. The kite slowly stretches into a longer diamond, with two thick flaps on top and two skinny tips on the bottom.

“Fold these in, so it’s a thinner shape.”

You fold the edges of each side into the middle, a small smile donning your features. This is further than you’ve ever gotten on your own. Maybe all you needed was a damn good teacher.

“Alright, see these little tips?” Dazai taps his finger against each one. “You’re gonna bring them up to the same height as the top one, like this. Then the next one…”

He folds each tip upwards, meeting the top flap and pressing down on the crease.

“And now you’ve got a cute little crown!”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat as he holds it above your head, even more so when you see a soft smile on his face. You don’t have the heart to brush him away, even as you focus on your own paper. It’s a little uneven and bent a weird way, but when you’re done you hold yours up and over his head as well.

“Like this, huh?”

“Perfect,” he says, and your heart skips a few beats. “Now, which one’s your favorite?”

His finger dances back and forth between the smaller tips of each crown. You pause, and then point to the one on your right side, closest to him.

“That one? Alright, take it like this…and fold it down. Now he’s got a little head.”

He shows you with his own, expertly folding the tip down to crease right down its middle, bending it to give the little paper a head. Yours is a little clunky (you’ll never understand how he moves his hands the way he does), but it still gets a smile out of him.

“And spread his wings slowly…”

Slowly, carefully, each delicate wing pressed between your fingers.

“…Ta da! Say hello to your new little crane!”

Dazai holds up his own, a perfect white bird with no corner or fold out of place. The prime example of a paper crane.

Yours is roughly the same thing, with a few beginner mistakes thrown in. A slight tear on his nose, his head hanging a bit too low, and he doesn’t stand on his own when you place him down. But he’s here, right in front of you, next to Dazai’s own crane. To be honest…

Not bad for your first try.

“…Here, take it.”

In all your years of knowing him, you can’t recall ever seeing Osamu Dazai stunned into silence. It almost makes you laugh, the way his mouth tightens into a line, his soft brown eyes unusually blown wide. It looks…kinda cute on him.

He’s still staring at you, so you take the lead and grab his hand, careful of the bandages around his wrist, and place the tattered pink crane in his palm.

“I…I wanna give it to you.” You can feel your face start to burn, but force the words out anyway, no matter how stupid they sound. “So here, take it. It’s for you.”

It’s not perfect, nowhere near it. It’s messy and crumbled in some places, and the more you look at it the more you wonder if this is a good idea after all. If he would even want something like this in the first place.

But then his hands close over the crane and hold it up to his face, inspecting each and every crease and fold. You hold your breath, nails sinking into the corner of the desk.

You’re three seconds away from snatching the thing out of his hands and taking everything back—but then he places it on the corner of his desk, propped up against a stack of paper so it won’t fall over.

“No fair if you give me yours,” he says with a smirk, “and I don’t give you anything in return!”

So he slides his own paper crane towards you, urging you to take it. It almost makes you want to cry, the soft way he looks at the pink crane on his desk, tracing his finger along the edges. You hold his own crane close to your chest, before placing it on the corner of your desk, its nose touching the pink one’s.

“…Thanks, Dazai.”

The smile he gives you sends a swarm of butterflies straight to your stomach. And when it’s time for you two to finally leave the office, with the last rays of the sunset streaming through the window, you can’t help but steal one last look at the little pair of cranes, right there on your desk, their noses brushing against each other’s.

A perfect sight to walk into tomorrow.

The thought makes you smile, as Dazai’s hand slides into your own, and the two of you close the door behind you.

#osamu dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd fics

[lorcandidlucienwill]

Lol this is incredibly fucked up and I don’t think Tamlin or Lucien in canon would ever actually do this but it was too freakishly weird not to write. Based on this post by @nocasdatsgay This takes place the day after the Solstice after Lucien gifted Elain those pearl earrings.

Tamlin found his old friend once more in his delapidated manor, looking even more miserable than the face Tamlin saw in the mirror every day. That’s when Tamlin knew it was bad.

His friend, his Lucien, always so bright and witty and strong, reduced to this lifeless thing. Part of it was Tamlin’s own fault. Much of it was his family’s fault. And the rest…well Tamlin guessed it was the Night Court’s fault. He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut to try and control the emotions roiling through him.

Tamlin walked up behind Lucien slumping on the couch. He showed so little reaction that for a moment Tamlin almost thought he couldn’t sense his presence.

“I don’t understand,” Lucien said at last.

Tamlin stilled, listening to the Autumn court male speak.

“I protected her in Hybern. I traversed Prythian for her. I demanded she get sunlight and fresh air from the Inner Circle. I journeyed across the content to seek an army based on her vision. I returned with a retinue complete with her own father, and I fight across the battlefield to reach her, and she asks me to stay in Velaris. Then nothing. Avoids me like the plague. I understand she wasn’t expecting all this and she was in love…but was I not also? Yet I’m trying to make the most of this and she…pushes me away. I learn about her. I gift her garden gloves. I gift her pearl earrings. She loves gardening and pearls. She seems to dislike my gifts. She cringes away. I feel her attention towards that dark angry shadowsinger. He despises me for some reason. I don’t understand. Am I that unlovable?” Lucien seemed to be talking to himself.

Tamlin’s heart strained at the longing and anguish etched on his face. All these years, Tamlin had hid much of his true darkness from Lucien, not wishing him to ever wear that expression. His hopes had been for naught, for there he was. Oh, he wore it so well, but he should never have to bear the burden of this pain. Part of it was Tamlin’s fault; he’d do whatever he could in order to make up for it.

Tamlin swallowed and cleared his throat. “You are not. You’re not unlovable, I mean.” He finished with a whisper, “I love you, Lucien. And I’m so sorry.”

Lucien looked at him then, his mismatched eyes burning with a fire that raised the temperature of the entire room. “Are you her? Are you my mate? Elain?” he demanded with a bitterness that threatened to undo Tamlin’s composure.

Tamlin swallowed. He had sworn to never do this long ago, but he was a different man then. A better one. More whole than he was now. Now he was but a shred of a man, a broken man with a broken throne.

“I could be,” he croaked. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. Monster, a voice hissed in his head. Oath-breaker. Ah well, what was another thing broken?

He didn’t know Elain Archeron’s exact proportions, which was a relief because he didn’t want to violate her. But he remembered her face, and he willed his emerald eyes to transform to that of a fawn’s coat, his hair to darken slightly to a burnished gold, his stature to shorten, his rugged body to grow elegant curves, until he was Elain’s double. Tamlin’s pants, now far too baggie for him, slipped down his body until he was left in his oversized shirt, which hung off his shoulders.

Lucien’s fiery eyes softened, his voice filled with affection and concern as he murmured, “Elain?”

“Lucien,” Tamlin sighed in Elain’s voice. He felt so disgusting, but if it was what Lucien needed to feel comfortable in this very moment, he would do it. Tamlin could do with the comfort himself, lonely as he was now.

“Elain,” Lucien breathed again, one hand tentatively reaching out towards Tamlin-no, Elain. It was Elain he was reaching for; Tamlin had to do well to remember that.

Tamlin couldn’t bring himself to care much longer about propriety when Lucien grabbed his hand and yanked him onto his lap. His breaths became hard and heavy as that hand trailed up his inner thigh.

“I want you so badly,” Tamlin gasped as Lucien’s hand went to the hem of his shirt. Lucien leaned forward, his mouth brushing the spot where Tamlin’s neck met his shoulder. Then it trailed up, up, until he reached his ear, leaving embers in its wake. “Shall I take this off then?” he crooned, tugging on the shirt. “Yes,” Tamlin let out barely, and Lucien slowly began pulling it off, brushing the skin it left exposed as he went. One hand was firmly on Tamlin’s breast as the other lifted the shirt off of his head. Lucien then stared and stared at Tamlin with a fire that had he been standing, would’ve made him weak to the knees.

“The most beautiful faerie I have ever seen,” Lucien whispered, gently pushing Tamlin flat onto the couch. Such pretty words he spoke against his skin as Lucien took his time, starting from the forehead, moving down the slope of his nose, his cheeks, the bow of his lips, his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, skipping over the place Tamlin needed him most, caressing his thighs, his calves, his ankles. Tamlin whined and grabbed Lucien’s head, pulling it between his legs.

Lucien chuckled darkly. “So desperate for me, are you, Elain?”

By the Mother. Tamlin could not help but feel envy. Lucien wanted to do all of this to her. It was beyond him why Elain was still turning Lucien down. Were Tamlin in her place, he would’ve accepted the bond without hesitation.

Mind foggy with pleasure and envy for the lady he was impersonating, Tamlin could only form one word.

“Yes.”

#i’m scared to tag this LOL #lucien vanserra #tamlin #tamcien #elucien #kind of #eltamcien #elain archeron #it’s fucked up #angst #fanfic

[yanderes-galore]

Platonic yandere Jonathan Joestar with a childhood friend darling, please and thank you ^_^

Ah yes, your new bodyguard. Hope you like this and sorry it took so long!

Yandere! Platonic! Jonathan Joestar with Childhood Friend! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Slight manipulation, Violence, Blood, Dubious companionship.

I called Jonathan something similar to a bear in his original concept.

Well, that's true here.

Towards you Jonathan is very respectable and polite.

He's also a man who would want to defend the "honor" of his best friend.

Jonathan isn't very popular despite his attempts to be a gentleman.

Everyone always saw him as the rich kid in school.

So he was actually often a target of bullying rather than being popular.

Except with you.

Jonathan met you at school when you were young and you both became childhood friends.

As a result, while you grew up he was often protective.

You were one of his only friends except his dog and his girlfriend, Erina.

Honestly, as much as he wanted to get along with Dio, it wasn't happening.

This made you one of the few people Jonathan still talked to from his youth.

Which meant you were always under his protection.

Jonathan doesn't mind bullies picking on him, but you?

If he sees you being messed with he intervenes.

I'm talking Jonathan would get into huge fist fights if it meant defending you and your honor.

By the time you pull him out of it, he's bloody and you have to drag him off to get cleaned up.

To you both, you're childhood friends.

To others, it looks like he's a bodyguard.

Perhaps he is when it comes to you.

When you two were young you were originally of similar builds.

Although, as you got older, Jonathan's size dwarfed you.

When you're in Highschool, both Jonathan and Dio dwarf you, actually.

Before Dio came along, Jonathan often played with you and Danny outside.

You loved being around him and the dog, when Erina came over you often invited her to join you and Jonathan.

When Dio moved in, there's the canonical clashing he and Jonathan have.

Although the moment Dio slanders you or picks on you in your youth, Jonathan steps in.

Jonathan often keeps you away from Dio due to this.

When you're in the mansion, Jonathan is never far behind.

When you're at school, he's there too.

Jonathan is aware of Dio's tendency to prey on you.

He can't do it without going through Jonathan.

Dio intends to make Jonathan suffer, which often includes sabotaging relationships.

Dio would definitely try his best to make you hate Jonathan.

Yet it's not very successful since Jonathan is always around.

On a more light-hearted note, Jonathan probably likes to carry you around due to his size.

You're more of a sibling to him than Dio.

Jonathan's protective nature towards you continues even after Dio becomes a vampire.

He actually hates the fact he's bedridden due to the fire, you could be vulnerable.

But Erina always manages to meet with you upon Jonathan's request so you can both visit him as he recovers.

Jonathan is still tamer than most JJBA yanderes, just being a bit overbearing.

He'd want to get stronger and take on Dio for the sake of both you and Erina.

He wants to marry Erina and have you alongside him.

As usual, you can imagine he'd be devastated if you were harmed by Dio.

It's not just bullying or teasing anymore.

Dio could easily kill you and take your blood.

Jonathan often worries about you.

He knows his strength should be used to protect those he loves.

You may not like him violent... but he'd do anything to protect you.

Jonathan does not kill out of jealousy.

He does not kill out of sadism.

Even when obsessed with you, he only kills if he'll lose you.

The blood on his hands is for your happiness.

In fact, Jonathan would love to see his best friend fall in love and get married like him.

He wants to support you.

He doesn't want you scared of him, he's protecting you.

If anyone threatens your happiness, he'll be there.

He actually isn't that bad with you.

If you get a partner, then he judges them to make sure they have your best interests at heart.

If they break your heart then he'd probably break them.

Jonathan may be clingy and overprotective... but he's a hero, isn't he?

He protected you from Dio just like he always has.

When you were injured, he stuck by you.

Every hug he gives is caring.

It doesn't matter if he has blood on his hands for you, right?

He just wants the best for you...

So he'll never leave you alone.

#yandere jojo #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba #yandere jonathan joestar #platonic yandere

[blvdprn]

— gloomy stalker

idia shroud x dom!male reader

somebody has been following you around, but every time you look behind you all you were able to find was an empty space. that is until you cornered the perpetrator and he had nowhere else to go.

nsfw — handjob, grinding, consent IS there it just wasn’t mentioned, stalker!idia, self-deprecation (it’s idia guys), popular!reader, reader is kinda into it, semi-public?, no actual sex

wc: 1,024

Again, just like every other day, the feeling of eyes following your figure accompanied you everywhere. It’s been weeks since this started. The irritation on your face whenever you felt the unknown presence made your friends concerned, worriedly asking if you were alright. You always made sure to tell them “Yes, everything’s fine, I just haven’t slept well.” At some point, they knew that was a lie, but they kept asking the same thing, hoping you’d tell them the truth.

One day, you had the great idea of separating yourself from your friend’s side. Your lack of presence goes unnoticed, for a short while, that is. And while they were running around like headless chickens trying to find you, you were already far gone, almost sprinting to an abandoned hallway —one that held rumors of ghosts haunting it.

Hiding behind an old, and dirty human-like metal armor, you waited until you were able to hear the footsteps of the one you were excited to catch. With their back turned toward you, all you could see was that they had their hood up, blocking their hair from view. They were also skinny and quite tall, but their hunched shoulders made them look smaller.

With them looking the other way, they didn’t notice you inching closer. Now, with you a couple of feet away from them, you could hear their heavy pants, almost like they weren’t used to running a lot.

‘Unathletic.’ You noted.

Hurriedly, you took long silent strides, slamming your left hand over their mouth while the other arm wrapped around their waist, dragging them back into the quiet corner.

Turns out, the somebody was the resident's gloomy house warden. He’d been following you around like a lost puppy, either by looming over your shoulder or by watching you through the hallway cameras. That would explain why he followed you in here. He didn’t know about this place, seeing as there were no cameras for him to use.

For weeks, he tried hard to get rid of his crush on you. Often spying, he hoped that he caught a slip in your persona, thinking about how nobody was that perfect. Sometimes, Idia wanted you to catch him, to reveal an awful side of you so the one-sided crush he had would forcefully fade away with the humiliation you would surely show him. After all, he was nothing but a gross otaku. An ugly loser virgin that was nothing compared to you.

This is why when he ran after your silhouette, the last thing he expected was for a deity like you to do something out of a hentai.

Which is what brings you to now, hand deep in somebody else’s pants, his face buried into your shoulder.

Your dick was hard, begging for some attention. Right now though, you were too busy making the third-year moan in pleasure, seeing as he’d never experienced something like this with somebody else.

“Mmh…” Idia let out, biting your shoulder with his sharp teeth, making you hiss at the pain.

“Tch,” you clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Don’t hide your moans, you don’t deserve it after what you did.”

He whined in embarrassment, reluctantly releasing your shoulder from his shark-like teeth. Instead, he tried to stop his sounds by thinking of something else, but that quickly failed when your thumb rubbed around his tip.

“Ah!”

You huffed. “Pay attention to me. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Mmm— ‘M sorry..”

Your remaining hand then went inside his pants, grabbing the base of his cock. Rubbing it up and down, the other twisted at the top, your wrist aching a bit with all the movement.

“Ngh! Ohhh!” With Idia’s face in clear view, hood down, you could see the way his hair changed from blue to pink, eyes rolling back a bit.

‘Shit, he’s so cute.’

Not being able to take it anymore, you pulled out your hands and released his dick. Grabbing him by the waist, you turned Idia around so his face was against the wall, back arched towards you.

“O-ow.”

Quickly, you resumed what you were doing.

With Idia’s ass facing your direction, you pushed your hips against it, instantly liking the way his round ass and both of your pants created delicious friction. Rolling your hips and grinding, you saw the way Idia struggled with deciding on what to do. On one end, all he wanted was for your hands to jerk him off until he couldn’t cum anymore. On the other, he wanted and craved the way the outline of your dick just barely rubbed in between his ass.

Gosh, he couldn’t believe this was even happening. How could someone like you do this with someone like him? Were you not disgusted?

“What did I say about paying attention?” you groaned, increasing the pace of your thrusts and hands.

“S-sorry didn’t mean to.”

Hips shaking, you knew Idia was close, the twitching of his cock and the way his hair flared up gave it away. As if it wasn't enough, his moans and whimpers also grew in volume, and you saw how Idia’s nails scratched the thin wallpaper in front of him.

Your grinding against him turned rapid and damn near savage. One of your hands slid down, playing with the heavy set of balls below his dick. Not even five seconds later, Idia let out a pleasurable scream, feeling his orgasm come from the set of skilled hands that were still working.

With Idia’s hot cum all over your palms and fingers, you rutted your hips against him. Letting out a fat load inside your underwear, you could do nothing but wish that it was instead inside your stalker’s hole.

“HaaaAh— Please, it h-hurts!”

‘Oh shit.’

You forgot that you were still fisting his dick.

Hands instantly letting go, you had to wrap your arms around his waist so he wouldn’t collapse onto the floor. All you could hear were his loud gasps, echoing around the empty hallway.

Later on, you’d come to hear about a new set of ghost rumors. Ones that contained weird noises coming from the hallway you two were in.

notes: idia is so cute i need to give him a sloppy handjob and hear him cry about it. 😕

#twst idia #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst smut #idia shroud #twisted wonderland #idia shroud smut #twst x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland idia #top male reader #male reader #dom male reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x male reader #x male reader #male reader smut

[promisinininining]

I'm not very good at writing longfic because I jsut don't have that much to say about a thing. that means when things do get long, though, that I start to panic because, do I split it up? into chapters??? people like long oneshots though right. And it's not THAT long. And I've already got it done. And Then, Oh No, Someone Has To Edit This, And It's Going To Be Me.

#the content creator is gurgling again #im back on my bullshit babey #also ftr im happy betaing my own stuff since im not getting paid to put out anything high quality #but also #my short attention span sob #ah well it's not like it's as long as far was #ill survive #mis-types

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

i always hc'd ted as slightly older than trent--maybe a year or so--but looking up the ages of their actors actually it's way funnier if trent is like a week younger. and believe me there are jokes for that whole week

#jason is like 11 days older i think #anyway i had a childhood bestie who was like two days younger than me and also far physically bigger/taller and you BET i was insufferable #for those two days #and all the time but you know especially then #trent: ted how do long do i put this in the oven for again #ted: ah yes. wisdom gained with age...y ou know when you get to be my age-- #trent: you are LUCKY I LOVE YOU. #and that's how trent says i love you out loud ofr the first time #tedependent #tedtrent #ah well update google lied to me about the actors apparently the year on james lance is wrong but #i stand by my hcs on the characters' ages

[moeblob]

Windy at my house + power flickering = no comm work = quick laptop doodle

#my characters #i genuinely hoped the wind would die down but like ??? nah? #and the last time we lost power without an actual storm it WAS bc of wind #and so i just get so panicked over please dont fry my tablet with a power surge #if it calms down by tonight i really wanna work on art since i spent almost all day yesterday struggling with a pose and i finally #think i thought of something that could work and then (gestures to the wind) fuck me #also in regards to these two you have seen me drawing deacon a lot recently and i only drew armya once so far #she is a devoted follower to fulj which is really rare since fulj no longer has a large following nor a temple #so when fulj finds her its comforting and reassuring and she adores armya a lot #however the fact that fulj relentlessly teases deacon and calls him names is like..... ok wait would you really be mean to me if it wasnt #for her ? like would you still pick on me? :c and shes like lol yeah dude absolutely #deacon is just constantly dunked on by the lightning group and hes so sad because he wanted to be friends :c #but also the guy wouldnt really recognize the followers if it wasnt for the traces of lady fulj #so if they would wander into the city without having been possessed recently he probably wouldnt even cast a glance their way #nothing personal he just straight up doesnt decipher looks fast at all #he could think they look familiar but then not know why ESPECIALLY if they wear something he's not used to them in #like if armya showed up in something other than her loose white jacket he would not be able to go AH YES ARMYA immediately #he identifies people by hair or clothing details so it kinda messes him up if people remove whatever identifying trait they have #long hair getting a hair cut? suddenly a whole new person #and armya knows this very well since he never looked her way unless fulj was possessing her or trailing her #so she does like to tease him as just. we are both in servitude to a deity and same rank but like. bro youre too easy to mock #(fulj agrees)

[sysig]

Size difference.png (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #Helix #ZEX #Crackship #Teisel #Meme #I am on a roll with these lol #I knew adding Teisel to my list was only a matter of time #I am a weakwilled individual with one fatal flaw #Anyway (lol) #ZEX really has his work cut out for him with Teisel haha - it's very fortunate he's so determined and enjoys a challenge 'cause otherwise! #Teisel is hard to pin down - I mean Other Than That lol - he's an interesting guy :0 #Rough around the edges and a family man ♪ And if I get to draw long hair and big muscles then all the better hehe #And he has a cute nose! He has the bridge of the nose thing that I like so much!! Yes!! #As for the rest of him - hm! I've only had passing thoughts up to this point and getting into his head is...Something lol #It's well done to be certain it definitely Makes Me Feel it's just hard to ascribe a name to that Feeling just yet #Needs a bit more time to tumble smooth I suppose lol #One thing I know I like because it makes me sad - lol - is ZEX projecting some of his feelings about DAX onto Teisel - unexpected! #It's extremely interesting how despite his deep abiding love and fascination with Otherness he's gotten increasingly homesick #Finding things charming about humans that remind him of VUX! You can tell he's a bit desperate for the familiar :'0 #So isolated from even himself ah 💔 Hang in there ZEX! #At least he has some fun distractions hehe ♪ New things to learn and consider! Teisel keeps throwing him curveballs! #Both of them circling each other like ''? Isn't it your turn?'' lol #They both come off as aggressive in their own way and then swing-and-a-miss lol #And then there's how Teisel frames him as far as age goes - or really how everyone does pffft #It is So funny to me every time anyone refer to ZEX as ''old'' now that his age has been more or less established - at least pointed at #The fact that he might not even be in his human-equivalent 50s what is this who this lol he's not old! And Max /definitely/ isn't haha #He is the slightest itty-bittiest willowiest little twink y'ever did see pfft #I have been waiting to use that meme template for someone for ages I am so glad that I finally got the chance ♪

[belladonnaprice]

.

#livetweeting bridgerton s3 #appalling #the worst person you know just made a good point #goal to you miss cowper 😬 #😢 mama featherington is being hella cruel rn #oh look #🙃 its the advice that always makes me want to weep and scream from the agony and futility #oh yeah no #im /never/ going to be able to watch this season again #hittin a little too close to home thanks #😳😳😳 #well thats ballsy AF #ah #and he just had his /oh/ moment #dream sequence? dream sequence yeah #oop but not pens #awwwwe besties make up? 🥹 #awwww their wicked ™️ moment #'i hope youre happy. now that youre choosing this. i rrally hope you get and dont live to regret it. i hope youre happy in the end' #polin is so goddamn awkward i hate it 😭 #awwwwwww cmon #how we gonna let debbling down #he may be a vegetarian but hes still a decent chap #i hope the show doesnt break his heart too much 😅 #😭😭😭😭😭 not the slo mo close up of her with her fingers in her mouth 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #awwww no 😅😂😭😅 is cressida actually growing as a person and will get her hea with debling? #the speaking look between eloise and pen 😂 #*dying whale noises* not pen back at her awkward turtle routine bc shes anxious 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #its taken me so long to get this far in just the first half of the season 😭😭😭😭😭 bc secondhand embarrassment #oh i like her. whos blondie? (and also bens face. poor boy cant win for losing 😂)

[xdarkabyssx]

God it's so weird. I have a LOT of friends, I tend to keep in contact with people pretty well and I've made a handful of internet friends too. But like. None of them live near me. Or if they DO They're always busy. so like. I have this vast social life of people I communicate with regularly but it's almost all over text so it's like. The duality of being alone and surrounded by people???

Idk it's also weird to think that like. 30 years ago this wouldn't be possible. Pen pals are a thing but instant messaging and the internet weren't so I'd be mostly stuck with the people around me? For better or worse I'm in this weird place between isolation and surrounded by friends who I love dearly but rarely get to see. It's a strange world I guess 😅

#bums me out tho that only one friend made it for my birthday..... #like im sure these people care about me #but its just hard with adult life and work and stuff #and some of my closest friends ive met here and yall live FAR or are super busy and it would still be a long trip. #ah well #is what it is and all that #im not lonely but id like to be able to go places and do things with people #i miss that #like im going to two concerts soon and i just didnt bother inviting anyone cause it wouldnt work out #im doing things alone and thats fine #also i suppose i got used to doing things alone so now when im not alone people stress me out #everyone has their own quirks and shit and i guess i forgot how to handle that #idk #im rambling

[shivunin]

🙤 Unusual OC Associations 🙧

(this is not just an excuse to show off this lovely bust by @star--nymph but it is a nice side benefit since we're here)

Emmaera Lavellan

Seasoning: Green Goddess seasoning; herby with a slight tang

Weather: Slightly overcast, but in the puffy white cloud way that makes for a perfect picnic

Colour: The last green of spring in the deep forest, when the logs are covered in soft moss and the plants are growing strong. The soft purple of lavender fields, fragrant and sweet. 

Sky: Violet sunsets over low-hanging clouds

Magic power: The junction between abstract and physical; magic that reminds wounds to be whole again, but also manifests stone from thin air. 

House plant: One of those little counter herb gardens, both practical and beautiful. 

Weapon: A staff that is more iteration than object; it is tested for its strengths and weaknesses, appreciated for its skill, and passed respectfully on in favor of a finer-tuned version. 

Subject: Archaeology. The junction of abstract history and physical remnants, reconstructing what must have been based on the evidence of what was. 

Social media: Tumblr; she runs a history blog and meticulously sources all of her images and facts. She has seven followers and refers to them all by name. 

Make-up product: Sunscreen. Above all else, Emma is practical.

Candy: Baklava. Time-consuming and meticulously layered, but infinitely worth the final result. 

Fear: Being abandoned/disappearing. Never recovered from her father disappearing through an eluvian when she was a child; she fears being left the same way again and also disappearing without a trace in equal measure. The worst thing, for Emma, would be for something to happen to her and leave no evidence of any kind, so nobody ever knows what became of her. 

Ice cube shape: Ice cubes with mint and honeydew melon frozen in them, to flavor your water as they melt

Method of long distance travel: By foot, so she can collect herbs as they go

Art style: Art deco; neat, geometric, and angular, but still mimicking the shapes of nature

Mythological creature: The Brazen Head, a semi-oracular automaton/animated statue that could answer any question put to it, but only with yes or no answers

Piece of stationery: A neatly trimmed and smooth piece of parchment intended for letters

3 emojis: 🧐 💐 🧳

Celestial body: Jupiter; beautiful and complex from a distance, but has the greatest gravitational pull of all the planets. 

Tarot Card: Strength; representative of all kinds of strength—not just physical, but mental and emotional in harmonious balance

Again, if anyone would like to be tagged in this lmk, and otherwise consider this an open tag :)

#baklava is pastry not candy but again i am the captain here #emmaera lavellan #tag meme #long post #kat i swear i am not going to tag you in all of these lol i just had to show off her face again #n thanks again arja for the original tag c: #gonna do like. one a day #all at once is just far too many lavellans #oh darnit i should have put wen's bust with hers too #ah well