#because it MAKES SENSE to be so frustrated right now even if you’re very happy for the CC’s

[sabertoothwalrus]

There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #long post #photos #laios touden #I LIKE HIM A LOT!!!!!! HES SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER!!!!!

[sixosix]

INFATUATED | AETHER

i. summary mutual pining but aether is a tease and you're an idiot

ii. tags 1.5k words, aether helplessly in love, reader being dumb and in denial, bff!yoimiya may be ooc and may embarrass you, set in inazuma, fluff & flirting

Aether’s always smiling whenever you see him.

At first, you thought it was because he’s just a happy little guy, always wearing a grin as bright as his hair. Like the sun, and you’re but a flower soaking in his light. But then you hear how people talk about him—

“He’s quite terrifying, isn’t he? Sometimes I get too scared to ask for help…”

“They weren't joking about what they said regarding the Traveler. He looks young and yet has the eyes of a seasoned warrior.”

“Scary. And a bit strange. His eyes are so… blank. It’s like he’s drifting out, and it’s why he has that pixie around to do all the talking.”

—and now, you’re not so sure. The Aether you’ve met is nowhere near the Traveler they keep raving about. Are they dealing with a doppelgänger?

Yoimiya mulls over your words with a thoughtful hum. She loudly sips on her drink. “Hmm, have you ever considered it might be because he’s just happy every time you’re there?”

You scoff, nestling into your chair with crossed arms—to protect yourself from Yoimiya’s wild imagination, no doubt. “That’d be absolutely presumptuous of me to even think about.” Aether? Happy to see you? Absurd.

She tilts her head as if she pities you. “I’m blessed to not have turned out this oblivious.”

“Hey!”

“Listen to me.” She sets her glass down; it rattles the table. The owner casts you both a stern look. “He’s really just infatuated with you. How hard is it to see that?”

Very hard. Yoimiya is reaching. This is one of the truths she’s trying to pursue—except there is no truth here, just plain fantasy. “It doesn’t make sense,” you insist, growing frustrated. “He’s the Traveler, I’m no one important.”

She hums. “I’ll admit no one in Teyvat can compare to the Traveler, but no one else seems to make him happier than you do. Which is why I’m saying that explains why he’s smiling whenever you—”

“Bold assumptions you’re making,” you interrupt quickly.

“Trust me! He liiiiikes you in that way.”

“Why? How do you know that?”

“‘cause,” Yoimiya grins, her eyes sparkling. She’s as excited as she usually is talking about fireworks. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I can ask him, if you wanna be sure about it.”

“Please don’t ask him anything weird,” you plead. “He’s met so many people, Yoimiya. Why me? What do I have to offer to the holder of the dragon-defeating, god-slaying, renowned fatui-slaughtering reputation? Nothing!”

“Does he have to be with someone who’s done all of that?” she asks, and your thoughts come to a halt. Does it? No, certainly not—unless that’s what he wants. And that might be what he wants!

“Well,” you clear your throat. “Perhaps, if that’s what makes him happy.” At Yoimiya’s quirked brow, you slouch in defeat, cheeks heating up at even thinking about what Aether’s type is. “You’re enjoying this,” you murmur at the sight of Yoimiya’s conspiratorial grin.

“I’m not, I’ve just never seen you act this shy and cute before! So this is what you’re like when you have a crush?” Over Yoimiya’s shoulder, you spot a familiar pixie and a mop of golden hair from afar, walking over.

Your eyes widen, “I am not acting shy and cute—”

“What’s this? Y/N has a crush!?” Paimon’s shrieky voice is unmistakable. It’s hard to mistake her even if you tried. They’re still a few feet away, but Yoimiya’s voice can be very loud.

“I don’t,” you want to snark, however meeting Aether’s eyes has your voice going quiet. Maybe Yoimiya’s right: you are acting very shy. “Hi, Aether, Paimon.”

“Ooh,” Paimon giggles, kicking her feet. “What were you two talking about, huh? Paimon heard Yoimiya talking about a crush.” Paimon notices your wide-eyed panic. “Oh, Paimon can kick Aether out!”

Exasperated, Aether casts Paimon a look. “Who’s gonna pay for your order?”

Paimon deflates. “W-Well, Paimon can ask Yoimiya—”

“No can do; I spent all Mora on me already.”

“—Then, Paimon will—”

You arch an eyebrow. “I don’t think I can afford your usual orders. Don’t look at me. I’m a starving artist already.”

She huffs. “Fine! Paimon was trying to protect your secret but she guesses that no one’s appreciating it anyway!” Paimon, the only one who’s terrible at keeping secrets, says. She turns to her companion, hands clasped together. “Aether…”

“Alright, alright,” Aether sighs, pulling out his wallet. The poor thing.

You and Yoimiya share a look as Aether orders food for him and Paimon. You weren’t anticipating that the Traveler—the subject of your predicament—would end up here, out of all the corners and food stalls in Inazuma. Then again, that’s his thing: he’s everywhere, all at once, including the nook and cranny of your heart.

Aether turns to you, a smile blossoming across his face, which is nice, actually, despite the flutter of your heart that is starting to feel like horror. His side profile was driving you crazy, anyway. “Should we leave you two to talk about crushes?”

Just one word directed at you is enough to have you fidgeting uselessly in your seat. And this doesn’t go unacknowledged by Yoimiya, who springs up to save the day. “Don’t worry about it, Traveler! We were just talking about this—this novel that we started reading the other day.”

“Really?” Aether doesn’t sound like he believes it one bit. “Well, Paimon and I have been looking for reading material anyway. Would you mind if we borrowed it?” Said pixie is too busy stuffing her face with Dry-Braised Salted Fish to care about reading materials.

You turn to Yoimiya with a forced smile, then back to Aether, who seems so visibly amused by how you’re acting. You must look like a mess. You feel like it. “Well, I haven’t really finished it…but—but we can tell you about it!”

“Yeah, exactly!” Yoimiya looks like she’s having the time of her life. “Y/N has a big crush on the main character, which is why we were talking about him.”

Aether hums, chewing, “What’s he like?”

Yoimiya narrows her eyes, grinning as she tilts her head. “Why do you want to know?”

Aether levels her with a flat look. It’s a bit strange with you in the middle of them. “Because I want to read the story.”

“We never hear you talk about anything romantic, Y/N!” Paimon says, bits of fish spewing out while she talks. Aether reprimands her. “Whenever Paimon sees you, you’re always working!”

Is that how everyone sees you? “Are you saying you thought I was too boring to experience love?”

Paimon decides to tune out the conversation once again, wolfing down her next plate of food.

Aether’s still looking at you, a smile on his face. No, perhaps a slight smirk would be more accurate. You can feel yourself melting. Perhaps those people were right when they called Aether ‘terrifying’—the swarm of butterflies his gaze is leaving you is downright frightening.

He tilts his head, waiting.

You stammer, “W-Well, the main character’s nothing special. It’s like those things where they make the hero really likable, really…”

Yoimiya butts in, “You just have a thing for guys who have defeated dragons and faced gods head-on. Nothing special.”

“Yoimiya!”

Aether throws his head back laughing.

Yoimiya settles in her seat, looking mildly surprised. “I’ve never seen you this expressive, Traveler.”

You throw Yoimiya a warning look. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve brushed that off, but Yoimiya is clearly hinting at what started your crisis in the first place.

Paimon chugs her water like a madman dying of thirst. “He’s always like that whenever we’re around Y/N. Paimon already told him to stop bullying Y/N!”

Right. Bullying. If only the shared glances and longing stares were bullying. If only Aether lingering in your thoughts was because he’s bullying you, and not because you’re developing a massive crush on him. That would’ve been easier to explain and believe.

“Bullying?” Aether echoes in confusion.

“Flirting might be the more appropriate word for it, Paimon,” Yoimiya corrects with a gleeful grin. “So romantic. Reserving your lovesick and longing smiles to Y/N only,” she sings. “No wonder why you’ve been so happy recently.”

“Yoimiya,” you seethe, though it’s mostly desperate, humiliated. It seems that her name is your only vocabulary this evening.

Aether laughs, his eyes crinkling as he shares your gaze. And if you let yourself believe Yoimiya’s words, you might even call it fond. “You can’t blame me if I can’t help it. Surely that novel taught you what it’s like to have a crush on someone, right, Y/N?”

A/N i love aether so much im sobbing hope u liked reading!!1 bc i cried while writing this!!!! also thank u earthtooz for proofreading i love u big sibling.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n

[bloompompom]

˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗

☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand

Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass. 

At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.

Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet. 

Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too. 

And it’s about time he does something about it. 

Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.

That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.

You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.

If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.

Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.

He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want. 

Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there. 

He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him. 

So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten. 

Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him. 

“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’

“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”

“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.

You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it. 

“That’s one way of putting it.”

It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.

You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.

You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy. 

“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”

Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.

You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours. 

“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end. 

You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this. 

At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start. 

Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel. 

Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.

I am absolutely not above this.

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time. 

Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it. 

You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him. 

You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you. 

“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.

Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go. 

“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him. 

“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice. 

It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.

You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry. 

Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”

He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”

Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good. 

You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you. 

“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”

It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.

Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”

Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head. 

Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him. 

“Lay on the bed,” he says. 

You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing. 

You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.

Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.

“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”

You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come. 

“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck. 

You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.

You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.

This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?

Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric. 

Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically. 

Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.  

You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly. 

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.  

He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach. 

He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.

He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.

Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.

“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you. 

You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor. 

You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”

He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later. 

“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment. 

“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”

So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight. 

Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.

“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”

The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens. 

“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”

You moan something incoherent.

“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”

Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.

You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more. 

Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much. 

“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”

His good girl.

Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.

What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.

You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully. 

“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off. 

“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”

Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too. 

You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway. 

Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?

Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.

“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.

You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack. 

He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.

You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.

Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”

You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip. 

“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”

His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.

“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours. 

He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.

“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”

That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.

Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.” 

You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you. 

You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.

Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.

“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”

When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.

Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.

You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.

You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren one shot #eren smut #aot x reader

[randombush3]

Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight

sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol

[...]

I slam the door behind me. 

There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy. 

She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key. 

I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.) 

“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away. 

“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm. 

I jerk it away from her. 

For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies. 

It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it. 

Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more. 

My dreams. 

The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach. 

I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”

Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.

“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry. 

Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough. 

Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”

“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!” 

Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else. 

“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?” 

“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”

“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–” 

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.” 

“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity. 

“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.” 

I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible. 

I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it. 

Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again. 

She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it. 

What is it worth now?

“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.” 

Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming. 

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”

#woso #randombush3 #woso fanfics #woso imagines #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

[wandasfifthwife]

never a burden

paring: (equestria girls) applejack x fem!reader

tw: pining after each other, gentle flirting, hurt/comfort (reader fails a job application and applejack comforts her), applejack showcases her element of honesty in this, this is pretty much pure fluff

a/n: this is for my underrated girl, Applejack. She deserves more love and fics honestly. Anyways, enjoy!! Do not copy my work | not proofread

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Granny spots you walking up, a funny looking grin making its way on her face as she waves. You lift a hand to wave back, “hey Granny Smith, I-“

“If you’re looking for Applejack she’s out by the barn,” your attention shifts to her figure off in the distance, “Maybe you can help bring her inside to cool off, she’s been working on fixin’ that fence since early this mornin.”

You thank granny, crossing the fields until Applejack was only a few feet away. She hears the crunching of the leaves and finds your figure standing across from her. You lean on nearby fencing, “hey you.”

“heya sugar cube,” she sits back on her calves, “what brings you all the way out here?”

You smile at her sweetly and take joy in her flustered expression. You slide off on teasing any further, explaining that you were picking something up for a friend and wanted to stop by. She wipes at her forehead, “I’m happy you did, it’s always good to see ya.”

Your heart warms at her sweet talk, “do you need any help?”

She shakes her head, going back to hammering nails into the wood. You sit in silence for a minute, watching how peaceful the moment around you was.

“Applejack,” she hums, “do you spend time in the fields?”

“Uh, well I am now. If that’s what you’re asking.”

“I mean, you have all this land, do you use it for more than just work?”

“Back when I was younger, sure I did. But things change.”

You stand straight, “what changed?”

“Granny got older, and so did I. Had to take on the responsibility for this here farm, and I couldn’t be more proud that she’s handed it down to me.”

You’re sure granny would be proud if someone where to point to a random fly and say they were her new pet, but you keep to yourself.

“Speaking of granny, she told me you’ve been out here all morning. Wanted me to come bring you inside so you can cool off.”

“Just after—“

She slows at the feeling of your hand on hers, “please?”

With a roll of her eyes, she’s walking you back to her house. You find yourself in her living room. She had excused herself a few minutes ago, turning and walking into the kitchen.

It seemed like only yesterday you just met the girl, sitting on her couch soaking wet, explaining why come knocking on their door. She had a sense of understanding, but was still very much reserved and confused, wondering why a random had come out to her house in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Her heavy footsteps announce her presence before she turns the corner, glasses in her hands, handing one to you.

“Imma open the windows, it’s hotter than a blister bug in a pepper patch today.”

You stand beside her, watching her tussle about with the window latches. It’s frustrating in how you’re blanking on how to act. You intentionally sought her out, and now that you have what you wanted, your hands are growing sweatier than they already were.

“So tell me, how’d your interview go? I’m so excited to hear,” her smile softens as she notices your body tense at her question. She makes a sympathetic sound, reaching and rubbing your arm.

“I guess I deserve it. They wanted over three years of experience and I’ve never even had a real job.”

“Hey now, don’t start on that nonsense. You have just of a right there as any other. You said they didn’t hire you because of inexperience? Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever—“

You hold onto her hand, “applejack its really alright. I’ll eventually get another interview.”

“I know you and I know how much this mattered to you. You don’t have to be all so positive happy all the time.”

You bite your cheek in hopes the pain would distract you from the tears building. She sighs, “I don’t mean to upset ya, I only am angry at the ones denying you.”

“You aren’t upsetting me. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course, sweet. Ya want a hug, they always make me feel better?”

The tears spill over and she’s cooing at you, moving your drinks onto the table near you. Her arms are already wrapping around you, pulling you near her, a hand patting your back, “go on, cry it all out.”

You laugh softly, going ahead and tightening your hold around her waist, “sorry, I didn’t mean to come over and worry you.”

“Never a burden, you’re always welcome. Let me go fetch some of that pie granny and I made just the other day, that’ll cheer you right up.”

She says, moving quickly into the kitchen. You step behind her, keeping close as she cuts a piece for you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re never a burden, sweetheart. Anytime.”

#applejack x reader #applejack #applejack x fem!reader #mlp x reader #mlp #mlp x fem!reader #my little pony x reader #my little pony #my little pony fanfiction #my little pony fic

[lilithess]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS III

water moons are just so … love naive. it breaks my heart how much these people get taken advantage of. if you come across a manipulative, hard cored water moon, know that they’ve already been hurt too much. this especially goes for cancer moons. like when a crab closes its shell

i already spoke about capricorn and scorpio placements getting the most hurt in this life but i’ve noticed it’s somewhat different. capricorn’s pain is obvious and “logical”. these people couldn’t catch a break because saturn and pluto have been transiting the sign of capricorn and now aquarius so it’s decades od having two malefics going up and down on your placements. mother died, father left, grandma got ill, parents divorced.. whatever it was, naturally, when you hear their life story, it makes sense as to why they behave as rigid or even pessimistic and frustrated with others, with themselves. they’ve been through so much and their childhoods were one of the most difficult i’ve seen (especially aquarius/capricorn stellium). burdened by everything that happens, they usually buckle up and dig themselves in their work. work is the most favorable medicine for saturnians.

scorpio, on the other hand, might not even have any of these life circumstances. i’ve noticed plutonians can create their own misery. they can be healthy, employed, even have both parents, a house, friends../ yet somehow they’re suffering. this is because scorpio needs the wound to keep it going. it needs something to die over, then be reborn, because without it - there’s no point. it wouldn’t be a scorpio to begin with. say you might be going through a heartbreak. and you hurt, you buy icecream, you go shopping, cry for a while, then move on. regular life, it happens. plutonian going through a break up is like peeling the skin of your bones. it goes on and on. it can be years over something that can be finished in a month. they hurt with every cell in their body. everything is deep, everything is big, everything is an apocalipse. this is how scorpio/pluto processes hurt and betrayal and most often in secrecy. i say - the rest of the zodiac suffers, and then there’s scorpio

venus being harshly aspected by saturn could manifest as having an extremely low self esteem that you’re not even aware of. it could prolonge a happy relationship or any sort of relationship at all. if you do get into a relationship, make sure they are treating you right. there’s a good chance you have to work on your confidence a lot

i’ve witnessed libra mars be so peaceful about an issue that i wanted to pluck their words out with pliers. they can really swipe things under the rug and just stay aggressively silent. my father has this placement as well and i’ve seen him stand up for himself and loose his cool maybe - two times. other libra placements don’t have this sort of passiveness (except maybe libra rising) so idk where the stereotype on libra suns is coming from. also, i find libras to be much darker than people see them to be. maybe because there’s a good chance they’ll have some scorpio placements as well but. i think this sign needs a deeper analyses

SYNASTRY TIME! there is one guy who has loved me for the past three years no matter where he’d been and who he’d been with. whenever he sees me it all starts all over again and these are most significant synastry aspects that we have: - my saturn and mars square his moon (he is hurt all over again every time. i have a situation where i’m the moon and i was the hurt one. beware of malefics on your moon!) - my sun conjuncts his venus (this aspect seems very powerful be it in synastry or composite, but i don’t feel it much. my venus also conjuncts his sun and i see him as nothing but another friend) - his neptune opposite my venus and mars (he is the infatuated one, not me) - my moon, venus, mars and jupiter in his 8H (feels possessive over me, stares at me to the point i have to yell at him to stop, looks at me like a lost puppy, has no control over his dignity and if he sees another man flirting with me he gets mad and the rest of his night is ruined) - my ascendant conjunct his moon and my mc conjunct his sun (i have no idea how this plays out but it seems important)

#astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astrology observations #synastry #whew this was long

[velvetcloxds]

Ohh ohh I’ve literally wanted to read some sweet tired cuddles with Aaron Hotchner! Like something where you’re both so tired that your conversation isn’t really making sense, but you’re forcing yourself to be awake to enjoy the cuddles

SELFISH | A.H.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: idk how but somehow I missed the cuddles part because I got too excited but I'd be happy to redo it with the cuddles I'm so sorry sdcs

Aaron was tired, exhausted, to be frank, with the whole team around him already asleep, he was confused why he couldn't convince his mind to rest, to give in. With his head laid back against the jet, he watched the ceiling, counting the lights, sighing in frustration, and once again when his phone vibrated on the table daring to disturb his already fleeting peace, that was until he saw your name pop up on the screen and it was shameful how quickly in prompted a smile.

"Hi, bear," you breathed as soon as he picked up, your voice was sleepy, quiet, yet laced with the same level of excitement it usually held when you spoke to him, and his heart soared.

"Hi, honey," his voice mimicked yours, although you were sure it had a completely different reaction than it did for him, a shiver running down your spine. He checked his watch, a brow furrowing when he saw the time. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" it was a familiar reprimand, one he'd give you a thousand times over but you could hardly be blamed for your own insomnia. "Is everything okay?"

You were at his place, habitually stopping by Jack's room to check on him after walking down to grab a glass of water, you paused at his door, smiling as he clutched a stuffed animal- yours, actually, he'd stolen it a few months after you'd moved in but you weren't all that bothered by the crime.

"We're fine, I just can't sleep," you were whispering, he knew why, another smile finding his lips at the thought, he could picture it so clearly. "That bed is awfully big without you," you yawned, padding back to the very bed you were dreading to be in, the covers a right mess from all the twisting and turning you'd been doing while trying to fall asleep.

"I'm sorry," and he was, terribly so, you were always eager to cuddle, a sort of fiend for it, much more since you began living together so he could only imagine how unhappy a big lonely bed made you feel. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm having terrible luck trying to sleep without you too."

"I can tell, can hear it in your voice," you pulled his pillow against you, breathing in his scent, letting it surround you, careful with the phone still against your ear. "And it doesn't help, at all," he scoffed, it was a soft sound and you wouldn't know but he could feel himself growing even more tired as if the very sound of your voice was lulling him to sleep, and now, despite himself, he had to will himself to stay awake.

"You can hear it, huh?" he was teasing, sinking back even further against the seat, looking over to find the blanket you'd insisted he take along on every trip, just in case.

"I can," you nuzzled further into his pillow, balling up around it, looking out at the window through the curtain which you'd left open despite his constant reminder not to. "Your voice gets so low, it's always low, but when you're tired it's slow too like you're taking a little breath between each word- and your lips drag a little, can't hear that but I know it's happening."

"Smart girl,” he breathed and then he heard it, your little profile of him being far too on point. He pulled the blanket onto his lap, hesitantly, but he then realized why you were so persistent to have him take it, you'd sprayed it with your perfume, very generously, not enough to overwhelm him but just enough to trick his mind into thinking you were there next to him. Not next to him, no, if you were with him you'd have already maneuvered yourself onto his lap, as impossible as the act might seem with the little space provided, you'd find a way.

"You still there?" you were whispering again, for his benefit this time, though you'd very selfishly prefer that he stay up talking you to sleep, you knew he needed the rest probably more than you did but just maybe he needed to hear your voice more- you definitely needed his.

"Always," he didn't sound very convincing, but you grasped at the reply, smiling into his pillowcase as you checked the time on the clock next to his bed. "Did you have dinner?" silly question, of course, you did, Jack needed to eat so you would too, he checked anyway.

"We did," he was right. "We had some pasta concoction Jack helped me make- I saved you a plate, didn't even realize until I put it into the microwave."

"Oh, you did? Did I get a note too?"

"Obviously," you giggled, maybe you hadn't realized how hopelessly you'd been missing him until the little admission. "We miss you, you know," you informed him and his heart soared again, we miss you, his people, his family, it was enough to make an overtired man wish he could make time fly faster just so he could get to you sooner. "Oh, I bought you a shirt," you backpedaled, shy at the comment, very lovesick of you to tell him that in the middle of the night, sickeningly sweet- he lived for it. "Maroon, think it'll look very handsome, very dreamy," you were digging your grave deeper, his little laugh made it worth it.

"I'm not usually handsome, am I?" another stupid question, you scoffed at him. "Was that a scoff?"

"A small one. You know you're very handsome, always," you were getting drowsy, wiping at your eyes, begging them to not betray you now, you had more to say, you hoped he had too. "Don't let me fall asleep," you begged him.

"You should fall asleep, it's late," hypocrite, he couldn't lie to himself, he wanted you to stay awake too, talking with you was comfort, a guilty pleasure, he'd never get enough, always greedy. "You'll be tired tomorrow if you don't."

"It'll be worth it," you quipped and he couldn't agree more. "Did I tell you that I miss you?"

"You did. I miss you too," a second passed, and you yawned, it somehow broke through the phone to him, he brought his hand up to hide it, smiling as Spencer rolled over in his sleep, nearly falling off the couch. "Why maroon?"

"It'll make your eyes pop and it'll make it impossible not to stare at you," you knew what he'd say, thought you'd beat him to it. "I always do that anyway."

"I haven't noticed," he definitely did, his smile gave him away, you could hear it, knew it well enough to picture it. "Bet it'll look good on you too," he conjured the idea, he was very right.

"You think?" your cheeks burned, very rude of him to be charming you all the way from another city, over the phone no less. "Because it's maroon?'

"Because it's you," you giggled again, he was drowning in the sound, and he subtly brought the blanket higher, breathing you in, heaven, he thought. "We're talking in circles," he informed you, but you knew, couldn't care less because at least you were talking.

"I don't care," you paused, another yawn and you could tell you weren't going to be able to keep up this fight for much longer. "I love you- in case I fall asleep, I wanted to tell you."

"I love you too," he decided to be selfish, he'd make up for it tomorrow. "But I'm not going to let you fall asleep."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

[outivv]

Can we get some separate headcanons of Xiao and wanderer with a Timid but kind reader?

Reader is extremely quite at first but show lots of act of service (like when they were injured, reader is the first one to try to help n stuff), and because of how timid and weak the reader look people always take advantage of themm(￣∇￣+)

It's alright if ya don't want to,have a nice dayy!^^

Synopsis: timid/ quiet reader who’s love language is acts of service!!

Warnings: not proofread

Characters: xiao, wanderer, and dehya

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello hello!! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you don’t mind me adding dehya, I just reallllly wanted to write for her :’). Anyways!! Hope you enjoy, and have a great rest of your day!!

— Xiao —

I think your more timid, and quiet personality mixes with xiao’s really well. I don’t know why but it’s givingggg power couple.

Anyways, I feel like xiao is pretty oblivious to your acts of service, he appreciates them but he doesn’t know why you’re doing them you know? Like when you help him with his wounds, or make him food, or do literally anything for him, he doesn’t understand… why.

You hum happily as you tend to xiaos clothes, mending them, and sewing back the tears in his clothes. Xiao watches from afar, seeing you so happy just… doing something for him. He doesn’t get it. Why are you being so nice to him? You even lent him some spare clothes you had, the thought of wearing clothes that are originally yours makes his cheeks flush. “Here you go!! All better now.” You say handing him his clothes and returning his thoughts to normal. Your sweet smile, and the way his clothes are gently folded- it’s all too much.

“Why do you do things for me?” He asks rather bluntly. Your smile drops, “what do you mean?” He glares, not out of malice, but out of frustration. He feels his question is rather silly to be honest, “I mean you help me when I’m wounded, you fix my clothes, you tidy my room at wangshu inn, and I don’t have to ask for any of it. Why do you do it?” Your blank face turns to one of pure adoration, and almost… pity, “because I care about you. Taking care of things, and people- it’s how I show love.” Your response isn’t what he expected, he honestly expected you were doing it an an exchange for your guaranteed protection. But in reality it was just as simple as… you loved him. He took his nicely folded clothes and disappeared, his heart racing, and face flushed. He hoped you didn’t notice before he left. 

I think after that encounter he gets much more flustered, and aware of your acts of service. He definitely appreciates it, and voices that appreciation in various ways. By checking in on you, idly hanging around you more, developing a crush on you you know. Simple things like that :)

He really hates that people take advantage of you, but he’s also very concerned that he’s doing the same… unintentionally JEGJEG. He’s like “that jerk just took advantage of [name] and I know it. Oh my god am I being a hypocrite right now? Am I doing the same as that jerk? Oh…” he’s very self conscious and worried that he’s taking advantage of you without realizing it. He’s not. You know he’s not.

— Wanderer —

Respectfully. He probably has told you to have a spine because of how often people take advantage of you. He’s harsh with his words, but they hold a strange sense of genuine concern, and care in them. He sees how these people hurt you, and he doesn’t want that of course, but he’ll express it in a way that comes off as much harsher than intended.

“I just don’t understand.” You say wiping your tears and sniffling. Wanderer sighs, and moves your hand from your face to wipe your tears himself, “I do. It’s because you don’t know how to tell others to do it themselves.” His usual glare is focused, worry pooling in his eyes, though he hides it very well. His heart may break a thousand times from seeing you cry, but you’ll never know that.

You look up at him, your tear filled eyes, and red face drenched in sorrow, and confusion as to why people are continuously walking all over you, how they have the audacity to do so. “I just… I wanna help people, I want to show them that I care.” You sob harder, your words broken up by hiccups. Wander thinks back to all the times you help him and his gaze softens, “people who have the sheer nerve to take advantage of you, don’t deserve your kindness. You need to actually have a backbone, and ignore them.” His words sting a bit, but you know he’s right. You wrap your arms about him to hug him, a sign of thanks for his advice.

He appreciates your help, and everything you do for him, but he’s the type to be like “no it’s fine I can do it myself” and be all stubborn even if… he can’t do it himself KEVEKEG. It’s rather annoying to be honest, you wanna showcase your feelings for him, and you can only do that in a simple way, and he won’t let you because of his own pride!!

He does let you do some things for him though. Mostly just things he doesn’t necessarily know how to do, like I feel like he isn’t superb at writing. Not that he’s bad at it per say, but he just isn’t great at it. So when you write him things, or write for him, he’s very appreciative. :)

— Dehya —

Strong independent woman!! Who will crumble by the fact that you so kindly do things for her, and enjoy doing them, and ahh. Dehya is a big acts of service person, it’s one of her main love languages too, so if you’re trying to tell her you love her (in a platonic/romantic way) then she absolutely loves it.

Dehya returns to your camp to notice food freshly made, clothes folded, and tents and beds made. “[name] did you really do all this while I was gone?” Dehya asks astonished. You turn around from folding another pair of clothes “hm? Oh yes!! I wanted to get some stuff done so we could enjoy ourselves. We’ve been traveling for a while, and while you were gone completing a commission, I just thought I’d be helpful…” a smile grows on dehya’s face at your words, her heart swells with all the love in the world for you.

I feel like dehya would try to do the same for you in a way. I don’t know how to explain but you both do things for each other, and it’s just a never ending cycle of basically saying “I LOVE YOU” “I LOVE YOU MORE” “NO I LOVE YOU MORE” “NO THATS IMPOSSIBLE I LOVE YOU THE MOST” “NO I-“ you get what I’m saying.

No one dares to take advantage of you, especially by the mere mention of dehya’s name :), so thankfully, you don’t have to worry about that.

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin xiao #genshin wanderer #genshin scaramouche #genshin dehya #xiao #wanderer #Scaramouche #dehya #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #dehya x reader #xiao headcanons #wanderer headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #dehya headcanons #xiao fluff #wanderer fluff #scaramouche fluff #dehya fluff #xiao x you #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #dehya x you #xiao x y/n

[vodika-vibes]

Hey, babes, I'm back, but only because you asked for a Dogma request, lol. I am very happy to oblige 🥰

I left my paper with all my notes on it at work, so I'm trying to remember what gemstone and time I haven't asked for yet...

So, let's do Dogma, with a tanzanite, and 0600 (because it's Dogma, lol 😂)

Please and thank you 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

I See You

Summary: You and Dogma are nothing alike, and that’s why you work so well together. You just have to remind him from time to time.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x GN!Reader

Word Count: 661

Prompt: Tanzanite - Perceptive Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright! This is written, I'm going to take another nap on the couch now that I've eaten and hydrated. Hopefully the naps will help. Happy reading~

You and Dogma don’t make sense on paper.

The pair of you are as opposite as day and night in many ways. He’s neat and organized, while you’re not so much. He’s a stickler for the rules, and you've always viewed the rules as guidelines, rather than hard edicts.

He’s not much of a people person, and you’re something of a social butterfly.

No. On paper, the two of you don’t make sense, but you do work together. 

He brings some much needed order to your life, and you help him see that there’s more to life than being a soldier. Sure, there were some growing pains when your relationship first started, but you haven’t had any problems in months. 

So when Dogma starts pulling away, you’re concerned. 

Your immediate concern is that one of his brothers put a thought into his head, made him think that he’s breaking a rule by dating you. It’s happened before, after all. Though when you put your foot down and told his brothers that you would date Dogma or you would date none of them, that stopped right quick.

But, the more you watched him, the more you realized that this was something else.

It had to be something else.

So you wake with his alarm early one morning, when the sun is still low over the horizon, and you settle against the headboard as you watch him get ready for the day. 

He likes keeping his schedule the same, even on days when he’s not working, which is why he’s awake at 0600 every morning. It can be frustrating, but you love him, so you deal with it.

He’s watching you with dark eyes, “Why are you awake, cyare?” Dogma asks, “You never wake up this early on your days off.”

You tilt your head as you watch him pull a loose tee shirt over his head, “I’m thinking.” You muse thoughtfully, as you allow your gaze to trace the geometric tattoos that run down his arm.

He folds his arms, “About what?”

Your gaze drifts up to his face, and you trace the tattoo on his face with a small, fond smile. “You, mostly.” A flush raises onto his cheeks and he averts his gaze. His shoulders seem to curl in on him, and you frown.

Your Dogma is so clever. He knows wartime and battles and weapons and ships-

But you know people. You read people like he reads books. And you don’t like what you’re reading on his body.

“Dogma,” You slide to the edge of the bed, reaching out for him, “When did you become so uncertain of my love for you?” You ask softly, “Have I said something?”

His gaze snaps to yours, “I’ve never doubted that!”

“Then,” You muse thoughtfully, “Perhaps you’re unsure of your love for me?”

“Never,” His arms unfold and he slides his hands into yours before he kneels at your feet, “I’m not sure about a lot of things, cyare, but you…I’ve never doubted how I feel for you. Or how you feel for me.”

You slide your hands up his arms to press them against his face, “But you are unsure about something.”

He hesitates, “One of my brothers,” Dogma finally admits, “has been telling me that I don’t deserve you. And,” he sighs, quiet and slow, “I can’t help but think that he’s got a point.”

You’re quiet for a moment, “Dogma,” You lightly tug him in to brush your lips against his, “My opinion on this remains as it was when we first started dating.”

He shoots you a puzzled look.

Your smile is soft, “My choice is you. It’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

Dogma smiles, it's a small thing, but it’s real, and he pulls your head down to press your forehead against his. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I see you, Dogma. I always have. And I like what I see.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #clone trooper dogma x reader #dogma x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[aegonification]

His Property

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Drug Boss!Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Aemond is your drug lord boyfriend with tattoos and he wants to show you off at his bar.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ au, explicit language, mature content, teasing, dirty talk, semi public play, exhibitionism

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k

𝐀𝐍: been a while since I wrote something and this idea really came out of nowhere lol I was inspired by this gifset [x] and kept picturing Aemond with tattoos and being very dominant and possessive so I wrote this. it was meant to be a short drabble but I can’t shorten shit to save my life - hope you guys enjoy, as always feedback is welcomed and appreciated! ♡︎

“Yes, what?”

His deep, gravelly voice boomed into your eardrum even over the heavy rock music blaring from speakers throughout the bar, stirring the growing ache in your gut.

Aemond chuckled sinisterly in his throat, the heavy hand that once rested on your thigh snatched you by the jaw, tilting your head back. He stared down at you with his icy violet eye and the scarred, sapphire one, grinning devilishly and boy, if it didn’t make your heart flutter.

“Yes, sir.”

Your hips twisted slightly, skin rubbing the leather bench through your fishnets and a whimper escaped you, the slight pain from his fingers piercing into your jaw with a vice made you pathetically wet, more than expected.

He snickered, watching the pleasure unfold on your face and he’s quickly reminded that you’ll do anything he asks of you because you’re his.

“That’s my good girl.” He purred, gently running his thumb across your chin as he released your face from his grip. “C’mere.”

You leaned forward and lifted your leg over him, his arms guiding you into his lap. He sat back, watching you turn and straddle him, settling your ass against his black jeans.

“You know what I want, and you want to make me happy, right?” He teased, his hands sliding up and down your thighs, squeezing your flesh and dusting his fingertips under the hem of your skirt.

You nodded furiously, gazing at the ends of his platinum hair hanging down his chest, admiring how they glowed around his porcelain face. His perfectly chiseled jaw clenched, accentuating his soft pink lips but you bite your lower lip, taking a deep breath.

If you did what you desired first and kissed him on the lips, he would be very displeased and you took immense pleasure in pleasing him, in serving him. Aemond wanted you to tease him, kiss all over him, make him hard.

Swiftly dipping your face into the curve of his neck, you kiss along the large, eccentric tattoo on his throat, hungrily licking and sucking on his smooth skin, peppering kisses in between.

“Hmm…” His guttural hums vibrated into you, splaying your hands across his muscular chest and tucking them beneath his leather jacket. “Say it, baby.”

The warm air swelters around you, mixing in the heavy bass of the music and sweaty bodies dancing and drinking nearby, and two of Aemond’s bodyguards stood on either side of the vip section you two sat at, so it was safe to say there wasn’t privacy.

Eyes are everywhere, but they are especially glued on the owner of the bar and his girl.

Now that you were on top of him, you suspected more people were looking, but Aemond never cared, he enjoyed showing you off in public and he knew you delighted in it too, even if you were shy about it.

He craned his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck and jawline, moaning hoarsely as you take his ear between your lips, sucking on the sensitive skin. Listening to him vocally melt under your touch left you with a sense of pride.

Aemond’s bruising clutch roamed behind you, fisting your ass roughly and boldly beneath your flowing, short black skirt. Whoever was watching him grope you had a free show of your ass covered by only black fishnets. No panties on—Aemond hated those.

“Mmm, say it.” He growled, uttering the demand once again.

Whimpering, you let out a frustrated groan, twisting your fingers into his cotton black shirt and Aemond relished in how you squirmed; impulsively, his palms spanked you repeatedly and your sharp cries echoing into his ear only encouraged him to hit harder. You could picture the bruises that’d appear tomorrow as the stinging sensation radiated through you.

“I’m yours,” you breathed, “only yours.”

“You certainly are, and don’t you dare forget it.” He groaned, his hands making their way under your skirt and resting at your waist.

It was his full intention to get you riled up, practically salivating at the thought of him being inside you, owning your body, and if he wished to fuck you in front of all these people, you wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Nothing got Aemond excited like flaunting you around and making others jealous; envious that they didn’t get to touch you the way he did, that they didn’t have a passionate lust like you two shared for one another. You and Aemond fit together, and that’s why...

“You’re my property. You belong to me.” He growled, putting pressure on your hips and subtly pushing them down, as he turned his head and latched his mouth to yours, kissing you sloppily.

His hot mouth moved lithely against yours, sucking and nipping your lips, devouring you as he massaged your tongues together. You moaned into him, whining and unconsciously rutting your hips back and forth.

The wetness that leaked from your core spread between your folds, dampening the front of his pants as you continued dry riding him, and soon enough his cock grew harder under the denim, poking your cunt at the perfect angle for you to thrust against.

“Fuck…” He cursed against your lips, curling his large hand around your throat, choking you lightly and pushing you back to break the kiss.

“Aemond, please.” You begged through gritted teeth, clawing at his arm frantically.

You desired more of him, craved more. It was difficult to describe his control over you, it had no bounds, and you had an absolute devotion to him that terrified you. The mocking chuckle that erupts from his chest has your cheeks blushing warm with embarrassment, heart racing as your eyes lingered on his dimples.

“God, I love when you beg.” Digging his fingers into your skin, he leaned forward, inhaling the honey vanilla scent along your throat and playfully nipping your jaw with his teeth. “My needy girl, how bad do you want it?”

His raspy, teasing tone raised the hair on the back of your neck and you swallowed hard, swiveling your hips in a steady motion. It’s barely audible but Aemond growls like an animal and your gut clenched from the vibrations.

“Do you want me to fuck you right here, (y/n)?” Gripping the side of your neck, he pulls your face lower to his, his breath softly blowing over your ear. “Hmm…you want me to bend you over in front of all these people and shove my cock inside you?”

His vulgar words raised goosebumps all over you, feeling as if your body was on the verge of exploding from the sexual tension. Aemond could tell by the choked moans spilling from you meant you were on edge and very willing to let him follow through on what he wanted to do to you.

“I could tear these strings apart so easily. Is that what you need, babe?” His hand instantly dropped from your face and slapped your ass, releasing a sharp gasp from your mouth as he gripped tightly and tugged at the strings with his fingers. “Do you need me to rip these to shreds and fuck your tight cunt for everyone to see?”

Your hips continued grinding against him, rubbing your semi-covered clit but there wasn’t enough friction to get yourself off. It was clear you were becoming insanely desperate for him to grant you the relief you were seeking.

“I don’t care anymore. I need you. Please Aemond…” Your pleading whines turned to muffled cries as you stuff your face in the crease of his neck, your hand finding his head and tangling your fingers in his silky locks. “Do what you want to me, daddy.”

That singular word and your voice singing it into his ear turned Aemond on like a light switch. An intense snarl ripped from his chest as he aggressively pulled at the strings covering your ass, tearing a few of the tiny holes wider, exposing more of your plump flesh.

He quickly reached between your bodies and unbuckled his belt, letting a hand wander under you to find your bare pussy dripping onto him, his calloused fingers gently brushing the wet bundle of nerves, your mind becoming dizzy.

“Hey, boss!” A tall man shouted as he approached you and Aemond from the bar.

You moaned in Aemond’s ear, still moving your hips and sliding his fingers between your slit, working to create that stimulation you needed. Aemond, unfortunately, wasn’t moving his hand anymore and his attention was taken by his bodyguard.

He removed his hand from your cunt and grabbed your hips hard to stop your movements. The man leaned down in Aemond’s ear and whispered about business—something about a man here to see him, but the man came empty handed. You raised your head to see Aemond roll his eye in disgust then nod and wave away his guard.

“Babe…I’m going to have Antonio take you home. I have to handle some things.” He murmured, sitting up and softly pushing you off of him.

“What? Aemond, wait—don’t tease me then leave me like this. I-”

Panic seeping from your voice, eyes darting around as your brain scrambled for an excuse to get him to say. Aemond chuckled at your babbling, trying to pry you off of him but you weren’t budging.

“Fuck me. Please, Aemond. Fuck me on this table, in front of all these people. Let them hear me scream your name, daddy.” You pouted, staring at him with wistful eyes.

Grabbing his hand, you lifted his knuckles to your lips and kissed them, glorifying each metal ring with your mouth, continuing to kiss up his pale, vascular skin.

The combination of praise and hearing you beg him to make you cum, even at the expense of other people witnessing the degrading act, nearly convinced Aemond. You were about two seconds away from bending over the table behind you, revealing your entire ass and cunt to him and the two guards nearby.

It was worth it to have him defile you in public and release you from this fierce titillation.

He shook his head, hoisting you down to his side on the bench and standing tall, towering over you.

“You are so cute when you beg like that, but waiting is exactly what you’ll do for me.” He insisted, taking your hand in his to help you stand up beside him. “Tony will take you home and I’ll make it up to you when I get there.”

His arm scooped around you and pulled you against his chest.

“You’re going to behave and listen to me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll do all those things I talked about and more.” He cooed, leaning down into your ear. “My only request is that you not touch yourself. I want you to be yearning for me like this when I get home, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You pressed your thighs together, fire tingling in your belly, reminding you of the throbbing ache in your cunt that you had to ignore for now.

“Good girl.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #modern aemond #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd fluff #hotd au #aegonification* #aemond smut

[hxjikonn]

Hello,

I love your Gear Head Twisted Wonderland.

If you are still taking request, would it be possible to get Vil, Malleus and Leona with a female s/o that is really good at making their life complicated without realising it.

For example, they usually naturally have the right answer or know the right way to do something, but does it the mire complicated way because it cant be that easy.

Hooefully this makes sense. Feel free to get creative with it.

Thank you

A/N: love this prompt, I relate to this so much omfg 😭💀 Thanks so much for this request! I hope you like this and I’m sorry it took me so damn long to write it🥹♥︎

——————————————————————————

Complicated

☆Staring☆: Vil Schoenheit, Malleus Draconia and Leona Kingscholar

Synopsis: Their reaction to Fem!Reader who likes doing things in a more complex way and giving herself more work than she should do.

Warning: Leona’s part has cursing and a lil bit of argument scene in it cuz Leona is stubborn as fuck and so are you. Not proofread. Very long.

Vil Schoenheit

Would be concerned about your health, since you often forget to take care of yourself when working.

This man would share your frustration. He claims it’s like a virus, it affects him as much as it does you.

You’d fuss about how hard the work is going to be and he’d fuss about you GIVING yourself the hard work that isn’t really necessary.

“Where is that girl?” Vil paced around the hallways of NRC looking for you, he heard about the project you were going to do and he knew that there’s no good to come of it since you have a habit of overdoing the work. He asked around and a student pointed out that they saw you in the library.

He went there and found you sitting under a pile of books that seem to tower up so high that if it stood beside you it’d actually be your height. He sighed and walked up to you. “Ahem.” He made his presence know. You looked up and smiled at him “Hi hun!” You greeted him. He loved your smile, it was warm and pure. That smile made him less mad at the things you put yourself through.

“Hi…” he greeted back, he gave you a smile too, how can he be mad when you look so happy working hard like that. “What’s all this?” He asked, motioning to the pile ok thick leather books. “History of potion magic, Encyclopedias, Recipes for potions, and a bunch of other stuff I need to read for my project”

“Potato…do you really gonna read all of these potionology books for one project? I can help you yknow?” Vil stood beside you, hands on his hip as he watched you burry yourself under a heap of hours and effort soon to be wasted. You sighed “Yes I need to” stubbornly you went back to the book in your hand. “Really? Are you certain that you’d rather read than let me help?” He asked

“Vil, I know you wanna help but I wanna do this one on my own, Plus these books might have an easier solution to the project…”you said while reading, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Darling, There IS an easier solution…” he protested “I’ll teach you, if you really don’t want me to help hands on, at least let me teach it to you instead of all this unneeded complex reading” he added, trying to convince you.

You looked up from your book and open your mouth to say something but he placed a finger hovering above his lip signaling you to not try to argue, “I’ll even give you my notes if you need it. There you’ll find everything you need to know about the project…” he said trying to persuade you even more.

“but Vil…” you mumbled, he sighed “Potato, I love you, but you’re really going to give yourself so much stress that pimples might start spreading through your pretty face…And I will not stand for it. Come now we’re going to Pomfoire and I will tutor you there.” He said packing your bag for you. “Can I at least bring one book?” You asked, he looked at you in disbelief “Do you not trust me?” He stated dramatically

“No of course I do! I just wanna learn quicker so you don’t have to work so hard to teach me…” you said in defense, he crossed his arms still in disbelief, “Please?” You asked again, it took him a few seconds before he broke, “Fine. BUT! only one book, and I get to tell you which one…” he gave you a condition which you gladly agreed to. He sent you to pick up the book in the front desk as he continued to pack your bag.

“She is going to be the cause of MY acne break out, oh by the queen’s name, I’m gonna need tea and face mask for the two of us later…”

He really does care about your well-being, so he does his best in helping you when he sees you’re doing way too much.

And yes that includes the spa appointment, skin care and tea afterwards, he might die if he sees even a single pimple on your face because of stress.

Malleus Draconia

Out of the three he’d be the most chill about it tbh.

He doesn’t understand why you give yourself more work than is needed but sees that you’re dedicated to it so he supports you.

And mayyyyybe casts “little” spells to finish the unnecessary parts of your job and tells you that you’ve already finished it even though he did it.

Still showers you with praise even though his magic did half of the work since he knows you really want to do your job well.

“Tsunotaro…did you see where I put the history of magic papers I printed out earlier, I need to read all of them before I can write notes for the test tomorrow…” you looked for the thick compilation you fished out of the library earlier. Malleus sat by the window and smiled “You’ve already finished it dearest…” he said, he’s well aware that, that is not true but it was white lie, he did it for you.

“Huh?? I did?? I finished my notes?” You said and looked at your notebook, pages already filled with summaries and meanings of the lessons Trein discussed for the past semester. Malleus made sure his spell mimicked your handwriting so you’d be convinced. “See? All done. Good job my love I’m proud of you” he praised and gave you a peck on the cheek

You, still having no recollection of when you wrote all of this, stood there thinking about it. “So…if I already did this, that means I only have to review and then I’m done?” You questioned yourself “That was too essy…” you said in suspicion…Malleus gave you head pats as a form of distraction “Yes well you are a hard worker, no wonder you finished so quickly…” he cooed

“Did I really do this??” You looked up at him in confusion, “Yes my beloved you did. I’ve been watching you pace around, write and read for hours! Look at you, you must be exhausted.” He cradled your face his hands trying to make you forget about the subject. “You’re being really affectionate right now Mal…” you looked up at the horned fae in front of you

“I’m always affectionate” he contradicted your claims, slowly taking the notebook out of your hand and placing it down the table “Yeah I know but right now it’s like 10x more than usual” you pushed on. He was calm outside like usual, but he’s internally trying to come up with an alibi to defend himself without sounding guilty and he’s running out of excuses.

“I miss you.” He blurts out in panic, silence filled the air for a bit until you broke out in a fit of giggles you reached up cup his face and gave him kisses still while laughing “aw, I’m sorry, did I seem like I was ignoring you because of my work?” you asked, he kissed your wrist and nodded, he was celebrating in his head cuz his plan worked.

You weren’t suspicious or working too much AND you’re giving him attention. Mission Accomplished. “Oh alright, I guess I have been too busy, maybe I’d forgotten I already did things…I’ll take a break and spend time with you” you said to your boyfriend who was now smiling brightly

“Thank you for being patient with me…” you told him and gave him a hug “I was told by Lilia that it was a quality of being ‘husband material’ he said hugging you back, you laughed and pulled away to look at him “Wow I have to step up my game to be ‘wife material’ too then huh?” You joked “You don’t need to you’re perfect” you chuckled again at his love struck statement “Sweet talker.” You hit his chest lightly and gave him a kiss before you went to go rest and spend time with him.

He often does it to shorten the time and effort you spend on working so you dont end up sick. But sometimes he does it cuz he wants you to give him attention but he doesn’t want to disturb you

He told himself one day he’d tell you because he feels guilty from time to time, you’ll just have to wait until you graduate and marry him until he does.💀💀

Leona Kingscholar

The MOST IMPATIENT BITCHY person on this list.

He’s basically an overgrown cat, so he’ll annoy the shit out of you if it means you’ll give him attention and stop working.

He hates this habit of yours and doesn’t understand the concept of giving yourself more work than required. He thinks it’s a waste of time and energy

Will literally shred the papers with his claws or push a pile of them off your desk just because he’s annoyed that you’re working and not even paying him any mind

You were trying so hard to focus on the notes your writing because your boyfriend kept yawning in full volume. You knew he just wanted attention but you kept explaining you aren’t done and he was being petty. Not wanting to start an argument you just continued on and ignored him. Or at least your TRYING to

“Hey herbivore, remind me again why ‘ya need to deal with all this crap when you can just oh I don’t know let the teacher teach it to ya ‘cuz yknow? It’s their job” he sarcastically asked knowing exactly what the answer will be. He didn’t get an answer out of you, so he knocked a pile off your desk again. “LEONA! I JUST FINISHED ARRANGING THOSE!” You stood up at the sound of papers hitting the floor

“So? That means ‘yer done with ‘em…” scratches his head, not caring at all. You glared at him but didn’t utter another word as you sat down to pick it all up. “Can ‘ya cut this shit out, you’re doing too much for simple quiz. If you’re gonna be doin’ this much why don’t you just teach the class” he leaned against the wall, his tail impatiently flicking back and forth.

“Why don’t you just shut up.” You snapped. It was uncharacteristic of you to do so, especially because in the relationship you’re the one with more patience. Not this time though. He scoffed, he felt slightly nerve wrecked by your tone but didn’t let that affect him. You arranged it again and took it to your work table where Leona is off limits.

You sat down. Took a deep breath, before picking up the pen to start writing again, but then the ripping of paper flooded your ears. That was it. You turned your head to Leona scratching a bundle of papers under his claw. You marched and snatched it from him harshly. “Out.” You demanded. “What?” He looked at you annoyed.

You only glared at him. You were gonna explode if you said another word. He groaned in boredom “This is stupid. You’re being stupid, you’re doing all this for what? For a quiz? Why?” He snapped as well “Oh I don’t know, maybe because I wanna do good in class. You don’t get it, maybe your able to slack off and no one could give a fuck about it, why? Cuz you’re already the ‘all powerful dorm leader of savanaclaw’ and all that high and mighty shit.” You argued pushing him back

“Meanwhile, I have to do ‘all this crap’ because I need to. I’m not powerful like you are, I don’t have magic, I don’t belong here, I wanna do well so I feel like I fit in…” you rambled, now feeling sorry for yourself, Leona only listened for once “I thought for once, you’d actually be the one to have patience FOR ME this time I need you to be… you’re just being bitchy…” you added looking up at him pained and tired, you sighed and looked down “Just go.” You said walking back to where you were before.

It was silent so you assumed he already left, you continued to work even though you felt awful now. Leona still stood there, he felt bad after he heard you say that and he knew he went too far with his attitude this time so he stayed quiet and waited. You took your work and place it down the carpet so you could have more space, you sat down and started writing again.

His tail still swung back and forth in annoyance but this time it’s because he knows you’re really not gonna give him attention cuz you’re mad. He crawled to you quietly and sat behind you, his large frame enveloping yours, he loosely draped his arms on you waist and rested his head on your shoulder.

You weren’t surprised, you continued to do what you were doing. His tail made soft pats on the wooden floor, it was a sign of anticipation, he was waiting for you to say something to him, thinking his little act of affection was enough of an apology. You didn’t speak for a whole hour. “Herbivore…” he called out. No answer…. “Y/n….” He tried again. Nothing…. “Y’can scold me some more just say somthin’ already…” he pleaded. Still no response, not even a reaction

“ ‘m sorry…” he mumbled quietly his face buried in your hair, “I’m not gonna be an asshole anymore alright? Just quit the silent treatment I hate this more than I hate your overworking thing” he added, you finally gave in to his calls “Shh, Be quiet, I’m almost done” you finally spoke. It was still monotone but it was better than nothing

“Good. We’re gonna nap after this…” he told you and you responded with a hum, he stayed quiet like you asked him to until you finished. After that he whisked you away to your bed and curled up against you like an attention deprived cat “Tell me who the fuck picks on you next time…” he says nuzzling into you, his head on your chest “Why? Cuz that’s your job?” You asked “No, cuz I need to knock some sense into them…” He said, “And yeah, that’s my job…now sleep so you can be less mad at me when you get some rest” he kisses your neck and you laugh a little “Damned overgrown cat” you mumbled earning a low growl and a chuckle from him.

A/N: Another request is doneeee aaaaaaa >< still didn’t proofread ;b Anon I hope you like this cuz I know damn well this took way too long 😭😭😭 still very sorry abt that ily ✌🏻

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland reaction #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x yuu #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingcholar x yuu #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus draconia

[purgemarchlockdown]

Autism and Amane

(CWs: Ableism, Child Abuse, Cults)

(Note: This is mostly based on personal experience and stories I’ve heard from other autistic people.)

It’s a bit of an understatement to say that I love Amane Momose. She’s my favorite character in the series, and I think about her constantly. It’s why I have this blog, I thought about her too much that I needed to write it out somehow.

A personal favorite headcanon of mine is the idea that Amane is Autistic. Mostly cause I’m autistic and I like head-canoning characters who I like with it. So now I'm just explaining why I find this reading of her character compelling.

Right and Wrong

There's no doubt about it that Amane is someone who is heavily constrained by rules and standards, and she expresses frustration towards certain rules in subtle or obvious ways throughout Milgram.

For example, the flag for vulgarity is the only one that is laying down on the ground in Purge March, something that is usually a sign for disrespect.

Implying that this is the rule that Amane breaks the most, something that is consistent with a lot of the other information we know about Amane. Since it seems like a lot of the things she finds enjoyable (cute outfits, amusement parks, performance art) are either neutered to the point of being boring or outright banned.

Outside of that, Amane doesn't operate on the rules of "normal" society. She operates on her own rules. Rules that are molded by the cult but still Her Rules. She does not care much for acting in ways that would be considered normal to people, and has stated that she is alright with that.

(T2 Amane VD)

Amane: Aren’t we the same? Me and Warden-san. You know, I’m aware that I’m out of the ordinary. That my environment was peculiar, and that everyone [else] is normal. Es: Amane… Amane: In fact, there have been people who said that to me. I’ve been told things like, “You’re being deceived.” “You can still make it right now.” “You’re crazy.” Es: … A: You are treating me as a child after all. Because I’m a child, you believe that I must have been brainwashed. It’s not like that. I, too— children, too, understand everything! Please don’t just decide that people must be unhappy.

While this is influenced by her abuse and her justification of it, even before this Amane has been very consistent on repeating this idea that she does not mind not being considered normal and is not going to change how she acts just because other people said she should, for better or for worse.

22/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)

Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either……

That isn't to say Amane Doesn't operate by rules, she does, to an extreme extent even. Something that is even shown above.

But she operates on rules she personally believes makes Sense. If she does not agree with a rule she believes to be nonsensical she will express that. If she does she'll follow it to the letter, even if it harms her or someone else.

21/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Shidou: Amane, I heard it was your birthday today. I asked Es-kun if we could get this cake to give to you…… Amane: I don’t need it. I’ll gratefully accept your well-wishes, but I don’t eat things like that. Also…… Shidou-san, I can’t say I’m especially fond of the way you assume that all children will love frivolous things like this. Shidou: ………… Is that so… I apologise. I’m sure everyone else will be happy to eat it, so don’t worry about it. Sorry for intruding. Amane: ………… ……cake……

She's very inflexible and dogmatic in that sense. But not just because of her cult. As stated she seems to disagree with her cult's view on vulgar things, and seems to have broken that rule multiple times before in the past and has gotten punished for it.

Not only that but she is insistent on certain ideas of "rightness" that are Outside of her cults worldview. For example, she consistently reiterates that children also have feelings and agency, to the point that's her Major focus in her T1 VD. Not her religion, not her crime, but her feelings about agency. The idea was just too important to her to simply let go.

Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior (e.g., extreme distress at small changes, difficulties with transitions, rigid thinking patterns, greeting rituals, need to take same route or eat same food every day).

What is a promise, if not a rule you swear to follow?

Good Interests

Now I would personally love to argue she has a special interest in religion as someone who was a kid with a Catholicism special interest (trauma is weird) but I don't think I have enough ground to argue that interpretation.

What I can argue, is a performance art special interest.

Amane seems to be deeply invested in performing arts. While it is a metaphor for how she's performing for her family and cult, outside of that she seems to actually show a genuine interest in it.

Amane is a bit of a critic. She seems to be a choirgirl that hates the songs she's singing.

T1Q14: Do you listen to music? A: Not really to songs that are highly entertaining.

Which implies that she knows what songs she Does find entertaining, and also that as established before Amane likes looking cute and pretty. She keeps on dressing herself in her MVs in cute outfits, and there is even a minigram about her being self-concussion about her hair and then getting it styled.

There's a Sincerity in these aesthetics, it really seems like Amane Enjoys Performing as an art form. The way she portrays her revenge is not her Stopping the performance, but for the marching band to break from the routine and to go full force into the "real world."

Not only that, but when Mikoto mentions he's an art student. Amane immdieatly asks him if he's good at drawing. The entire conversation shifting from their discussion about studies but about art.

20/07/15

Amane: It’s fine. If there are any words I don’t understand I can look them up later. An arts university, though…… Does that mean you’re good at drawing, then? It may be a bit rude to say, but that’s rather unexpected.

Her critic side even pops up here. Being surprised someone so "normal" seeming would be an art student.

It also seems like TV was a way for her to cope with her situation, judging by the final shot of Magic.

This stuff is so Important to her that it bleeds in Everywhere. Even when she tries to hide it to seem more like a "good girl." The visual ideas of performing arts and music come through.

As mentioned above, it seems like these interests were considered "vulgar" by her cult. It's not something a "good girl" like her should like.

It's something...abnormal.

Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g., strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests).

Normalcy

Amane is not as good of a girl as she wants us to believe or wants herself to believe. She knows it. She knows it too well.

Dear wise one, Am I worthy? Is it ok to spoil myself? I promise! A pinky promise is a pinky promise!

She's promising that she'll follow the rules this time. Promising that she'll be a "good girl." A status that gets her a modicum amount of respect and safety.

If you become a bad girl, monsters will come out This is the magic that stops that from happening

However, there's a sense of impossibility to become one, as if she was made Unable to fulfill the arbitrary conditions that were set by the people around her. Amane can only pretend to be a good girl, to...mask as one per-say. But she cannot Be One.

Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl

Amane has been masking for basically her entire life, to various levels of success. To blend into the cult, and to seem "normal" in their eyes.

Except, she's inherently Unable to be one. It's not something about herself that she can change. To turn Amane into a good girl is to make Amane into something that isn't herself.

Amane isn't Human in the eyes of her cult, she isn't good enough to be one, she wasn't born in a way that allows for her to be Respected as one.

She's even Represented by The Cat in Magic.

Her feelings of pain and anger and isolation by being different are given to something inhuman. And since this is Amane's MV, this is partially an acknowledgement that she is not good enough to be a human

Not only that, but even in the prison she's isolated. The way she speaks is surprising for a child so the people around her aren't sure how to interact with her, and her unwillingness to act in a "proper" way gets certain people (Shidou) upset.

However, she doesn't seem to even view her seeming inhumanity as a bad thing.

Amane is consistently more frustrated at people not understanding her than her not understanding them. She cares about her feelings because no one cared to adjust to Hers. She cares about asserting her agency because if she does she'll be infantalized.

Because, In spite of everything, Amane deeply loves herself.

T2Q20: How do you feel about you not being like everyone else? Nevertheless I was born as myself, so I'm happy.

Conclusion

I wrote this post partially cause I was inspired by this really good Dunmeshi analysis of Laios' autistic frustration. Which made me go "Wow I should do that but with Amane." So I did.

There's so much I can talk about really, but to me. Amane is a character who is in a world Hostile to who she is. Stuck between having to pretend to be "normal" for her own safety and hating having to do it because it's sickening and confining. Where her interests are controlled or considered "abnormal" meaning she is unable to indulge in them. Where the people around her can either demonize her or infantalize her for not fitting the standards they hold her to.

And, maybe it's just me. But I personally relate a lot to that, and I think there's something really amazing about how she's still able to love herself in spite of it all.

(And, I also think she's trans but that's a whole other discussion.)

#milgram #amane momose #cw cults #milgram amane #008 #I made this Quick cause Ive been Busy and I really wanted to write this and get it out #its not as polished or long as a result but its also very personal so uh...yknow #my proofreading is always shit no matter what though so if you see a mistake dont be afraid to point it out #cw child abuse #milgram analysis #milgram meta

[xvxni]

Hey 😊 would you do a Damon Salvatore imagine where you’re dating but then you leave the house after a fight with him and get in a bad car crash. He feels this and searches for you, just to find you I’m time to save your life. Then he stays by your side, feeling guilty and when you wake up again he’s there taking care of you, apologizes and promises to never let any harm happen to you again? Just some lovely fluff and a bit angsty. Thank you so much 😊

Apology

Summary: Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.

ANGST, fluff

Damon being controlling, car crash, reader having a near-death experience

1.5K

A/N: Thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for being my first request! I'm so sorry it took forever (this is horrible). Do let me know if this is satisfactory. Happy reading!

Damon Salvatore X Human!Fem!Reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your boyfriend of two years, Damon, was recently being very controlling and possessive. He started making your decisions for you without bothering to consult you, being unreasonably jealous of any male around you and demanding to be with you at all times, not understanding the healthy concept of giving 'space'.

But this time, it ran deep. He compelled your childhood best friend, Jake, to leave town and forget all about you. You caught him in nick of time otherwise you would've never even known about what happened to him!

Deeply hurt and driven mad with rage, you left the Boarding House for a drive after a few broken objects, wounding words and a heavy heart.

You didn't know how, perhaps you weren't in your right senses, you couldn't hit the brakes and crashed right into a tree. The car flipped over, and your arms twisted at an odd angle. Your limp and now-sore body was fastened with the seat belt, and you couldn't undo it. You were hit badly in the back of your head, and you could feel unbearable burn of a deep gash.

Your senses had perked up under the stillness of the night, and you heard a faint trickle. Then wetness across your back, your head, soon trickling down to your neck. It was a strange fluid --- coppery metallic smell, thick and red with a mud-brownish tinge. It was oddly enticing and familiar. A shiver ran down your spine when you realised it was your blood. Blood, so much blood --- your own. You were losing so much blood, and you could do nothing to stop it. You felt faint and suddenly, the hardest thing in the world was staying conscious.

You were terrified. If you were going to die, then it mustn't be like this. An accident. Your whole life snatched away just because of a mistake. God, you had so many things to do in life. Get a job, travel the world, adopt a cat --- ordinary things but they were your dreams, which now lay shattered. You didn't want your life --- and death --- so unremarkable and ordinary. And while all this time, there was a deep wound of regret in your heart --- perhaps greater than the gash on your head --- to part with Damon.

Sure, he could be such an asshole at times, but you knew that he loves you with all his heart. You didn't want your last words to him be an angry "I hate you". You had never really thought about it, what would be your last words to him. You couldn't breathe at the sheer grief that hit you at the moment. Unable to withstand the blow, you closed your eyes, succumbing to a world of endless darkness, getting lost in your way towards the blue-eyed vampire. And you couldn't do a damn thing about it...

Anger and frustration clouded Damon's mind. It was all hazy, and he was searching for a light. Ah, there it is! Remorse, regret, fear of having losing her. He knew what he did was wrong, but why couldn't she understand? He loved her so damn much, everything he did was tp protect her.

She lived her constant danger because he loved her, and he knew at times that he should let her go, but he couldn't. He needed her to function, she was his damn sanity, and without her, he lost it.

Suddenly, there was this intense urge to go find her, not to waste a single moment. He'll do anything to have her back, she can't leave him. He knew he was unreasonable, ill-tempered and sometimes too controlling, but he couldn't help himself.

He got behind the steering wheel and let his heart lead the way, for it was with her where it truly lay.

He was aghast, devastated, even. Finding her like this, so near to death, he suddenly came to his senses. He was crying, he realised. He never cried. But that's what she does to him --- make him into someone he never thought he could be.

"Y/N, no! No, no, no!" he wailed, feeling utterly helpless. He undid your seatbelt and somehow pulled you out of the overturned car. Without wasting a moment, he bit into his wrist and forced his blood into your mouth.

You drank for a moment then turned away, trying to sit up but immediately fell back and the sheer exhaustion and soreness you felt.

He was here. He was here, you realised.

"Oh Damon, I'm so sorry!" you sobbed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and you knew he was crying into your shoulder.

You simply let things just be. In that dark night, the feeling of death heavy around you, the two of you embraced a new life. Of promises of forever, of understanding, of accepting --- and it was beautiful.

After what seemed like an eternity, he composed himself, giving you some strength, too. "Let's get you home, yeah?" he whispered and you nodded. He lifted you bridal style in his arms and helped you into his car. You leaned on him, as much as you could and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry..." he began but your shook your head. He understood. Not now.

You drove to the Boarding House in companionable silence. The silence was golden. The silence spoke it all. And all you needed was the silence.

With his help you went inside. The house that was so familiar --- it looked the same --- but it promised something different.

"You don't know how scared I was today," he whispered as he rubbed your feet.

"Me too... I didn't want to die like that. Not without saying goodbye, though I wonder if I ever will be able to say it-" he silenced you with a kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you. I want you all for myself, I know that's selfish. I am prick and I don't deserve you, but I do love you very much, so much that it's frustrating, and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you. I know I make bad decisions, I know I react impulsively, but I do it only for you. I am sorry for today. I had no reason to compel Jake, but I did it anyway because I was insecure. I realised my mistake, I have no reason to be. So, if you have it in you, please forgive me...". Tears were streaming down his face.

You wiped them away and hugged him close.

"I'm hungry," you said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It made him laugh. "Pasta?"

"Yes!"

#the vampire diaries #tvd #the mikaelsons #the originals #xvxni posts #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore angst #damon salvatore imagines #damon salvatore #damon salvatore fluff #tvdu #tvd imagine #damon x y/n #damon salvatore x y/n #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert

[sirsadly]

request: orc/human - human is the orc's tailor; are they upset cuz the clothing keeps getting messed up? are the appalled by the quality of their former clothing for being so shoddy? does the orc's current ensemble simply not bring out their eyes? are they distracted during a fitting for their friend who deserves nice clothes dammit and didn't expect their ripped-ness to be such a problem because it isn't with their other customers? is this fantasy or modern? -shrugs- i apparently have more thoughts than i thought but this work training is so very boring - feel free to use none of them but the overall prompt but i crave anything that doesn't discuss "the five subcategories on this slide" pls

i hope you got through that work training okay, and you enjoy this mini fic. sorry for being beyond late ;)

Where My Hand Treads 

male orc with gender neutral reader

591 words | sfw

Their thighs ate up most of the measuring tape. Their very same thigh you perfectly custom made pants for, that now stretched taut against the gulf of their muscles.

As their tailor, you were happy about their frequent patronage, but it felt like they carefully maneuvered the small shop you worked at least twice a week with an old garment at hand needing repair.

Sometimes that garment was something you made a week prior that needed mending. You wondered what their lifestyle could be like to warrant this many repairs, not that your wallet was complaining. Curiosity that is what we will call it for now, what that shapely legs do for a living.

You could excuse the ripping and loose threads, but what had you up in arms with annoyance, frustration, and maybe even anger was how his ensemble made the least amount of sense. Though he had all the pieces of a professional suit, he never seemed to put the right colours together. And when he did something of the proportions was off, or fraying at the hems hence coming to the shop.

Most importantly it hurt to see a diamond just covered in mud, his clothes never seemed to bring out his personality or the colour of his warm brown eyes. You told him as much after measuring him again for the second time this month, to make sure his clothes were not faulty on your part.

“You want to style me? But I don’t think you provide those services.” He said slowly. “Is this an exclusive offer for my frequent patronage, if so do other clients get this treatment as well.”

“You’re right we don’t. I think I’ve never offered anyone this. It’s just that you clearly need help assembling an outfit, especially if you are going to be here every day needing a garment repaired.”

His eyes wandered towards the rumbling ceiling of your small shop under the subway tracks, rubbing at the back of his head in thought. You have embarrassed him, your banter does not always read as playful as you would hope. Your ears heat in shame, in the already hot summer afternoon. Your words might not always lift a person’s confidence but you knew what you could achieve with your sewing machine and your critical eye. You knew it every time a client looked in the mirror after a fitting. 

“Please allow me, I just think you are not shining to your highest capacity. Everyone has certain colours and cuts that make them look effortlessly put together. Not everyone gets to learn that, it’s something you either gotta be passionate about or learn early on.”

Your eyes looked straight ahead to his distracted ones, trying to catch the colour change of his mood. “I would like to extend that knowledge so that you may be your brightest self. I did not mean to embarrass you…” you trailed off after his lips pulled tight. He seemed to be enduring you, that expression twin to those braving the biting wind. 

His tusks jutted out, a bit large for his face with his brown eyes, squat nose, and long curls.

You were already imagining the colours you would pull for him, neutral reds and browns for his green skin, toeing that line to bring out his complexion. He would be magnificent. This you could do, this where your hands have tread before.

“My body is in your capable hands, Tailor.” The comment did not go unnoticed, but you knew words could only go so far.

#sirsadly writings #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster x reader #requests are open #mini fics #exophilia #monster/reader #monster/human #orc/human #orc lover #orc x reader #orc x human #request answered

[tteokdoroki]

“osamu, what the hell is your problem?”

osamu miya isn’t one to act out like this, he’s never one to run head first into a fight with no armour. he’s not brash and unreasonable like ‘tsumu. he’s supposed to be the better twin at this compared to the blonde scrub he should have eaten in the womb.

but when it comes to you, he loses all sense of rationality— the slightest change in your emotions still has osamu acting a fool after all this time.

“i was defending yer honour!” he announces adamantly, slur heavier than usual as he flinches away from the bag of frozen peas you have pressed into his swelling cheek. osamu hates frozen veg, it ruins the quality and taste of his product, so he prefers to start afresh every time to make sure everyone gets the very best of what he has to offer but boy is he glad that he kept the bag in his kitchen’s freezers from when he first started out.

he still can’t believe he got punched in his own damn shop.

your face twists as you peel back the defrosting packet, analysing the tender area on the younger miya twin’s face. still handsome, even when bruised like a softly ripened peach. “osamu miya,” he hates how his full name sounds on your tongue, bitter and still slightly resentful— nothing like the ‘samu’s he’s used to. “i do not need defending! god…you don’t change. you never do!” frustration sits caked on your features like a layer of sweat after a gruelling day in the kitchens. “when will you realise that i can be my own person outside of you? i can take care of myself. i don’t need you to back me up, tell me to sit this one out like you do with ‘tsumu. i don’t need protecting.” you shift awkwardly on your knees, the tiled floor in onigiri miya’s kitchen cutting into your skin. “and besides…i like him.”

osamu pushes the peas from your grip, brows knotted together as he scowls at you like what you’ve said isn’t true. you could tell him those words a thousand times and he’d selfishly ignore them because you’re way too good to go unprotected in this world.

“yer still s’fuckin’ naive,”

the curse word slipping from the restaurant owners lips surprises you— it upsets you, the hurt sweltering in your chest. “‘samu that’s not fair…”

“i don’t care if it is! i see the way ya grimace when he touches ya, the way ya avoid his gaze. how he treats ya like a fuckin’ pet rather than a human being!” the miya twin roars back, and if he was loud enough you’re sure he’d rattle the pots out to dry on the dish-rack. “that’s not love. you know that.”

your face scrunches up, expression foul and osamu knows he shouldn’t have said that.

“and you do?” he can hear the tired tremble in your voice, you’ve both been here before, stuck in a loop of the same argument. osamu shouldn’t cast judgement on the people you date, not when he ruined the concept of love and happiness for you in the first place. he gave you up when you’d done nothing but cherish him for years after the team went their separate ways.

he was the one to let you go.

he was the one desperate to see you again, dropping hints to kita to invite the old inarizaki manager to the reunion at his precious store in osaka after atsumu’s big game.

he was the one who threw the first punch at your now fiancé because the way he held you wasn’t right.

it was too tight, too rough for someone who deserved the world like you. osamu could read the twitch of pain on your face probably before you even felt it…because he still loved you, he still knew everything about you and he didn’t even have the right to. he probably deserved to get his shit rocked before aran and suna dragged your fiancé outside the shop ( atsumu would have ripped the guy’s head off too for hurting his brother…but kita was there and you’d pleaded with him not to ).

so osamu miya stays silent, becomes a little more reserved unlike his bastard brother and zips his lips once more— throwing away the key while he avoids your desperate gaze. “nothin’.” he mumbles simply, looking away from your wounded puppy dog eyes.

“of course,” you say quietly, even though he can hear the crack of tears in your voice. “because you could never love anyone outside of this stupid shop.”

and as you let it slip you’re crying up, and back away from him on the kitchen floor of onigiri miya, osamu realises…there’s no starting over with you. it’s far too late for that.

#miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu angst #osamu drabble #osamu angst #osamu imagine #osamu x reader #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq drabbles #osamu miya #hq angst #hq smut #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #tteokdoroki #🗑. aali’s chatroom

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam confronts Y/N on her feelings for his brother.

Warnings: basically none but it is a little angsty. Sam playing cupid. Also Sam might be ooc- sorry

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra ,

@fablesrose , @ada--44

A/N: Hi! To start off thank you so much for all the support recently I’m truly grateful for you all and i’m so happy to say I have people who seem to enjoy my writing. But on the writing note I just wanted to acknowledge a sort of plot hole:

if you have read the series up to now you probably know that it was said Y/N has a job and kept it (just doing it basically on her laptop alone) even when she went with the boys to find their Dad. I did this because I wanted a sense of independence for her as I felt like this made sense, would she drop anything to help them yes but I also don’t think she would be so quick to give up her life since she had her own house and didn’t hunt 24/7. Now as we are a little bit further into the story I don’t think she would have this job anymore but I also don’t know how to write it into the story and i don’t think i want to write a half chapter just on it (tho this might change). So for the sake of the story you can decide why she dosnt have this writing job anymore,for me I see it as she secretly quit after the skin walker hunt because she realized where her focus needed to go and how tiring hunting full time was. I also don’t think she ever brought it up to the boys out of fear of making them feel guilty, tho they probably figured it out and didn’t say anything either.

Anyways sorry for the rant i’ll let you read this now! And Happy thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate

Word Count: 819

A fool in love

(Master list, Previous Ch, Next Ch)

“Here you go” Sam says, placing a cup of tea in front of me having picked up our drinks from some local place as we sat in the library trying to find a new hunt or any clues to where his Dad could be.

He didn’t have a third cup with him, Dean having not joined us deciding instead to go find a “lead” in a bar.

“Thanks” I mumble before bringing the hot drink to my lips.

He sits down in front of me, shuffling in his chair awkwardly. “Are you okay?” I laugh lightly at his odd movements. He clears his throat, “Yeah, I, uh…can we talk?”

“Of course” I smiled at him, my eyebrows scrunched together slightly.

“Promise you won’t get annoyed” He starts off. I laugh, “Okay? But I don’t know if I can exactly promise anything when I don’t know what you’re gonna say.”

“Just…promise” He held out his pinky to me, something he knew I took very seriously. I smile harder, linking my pinky with his, the very sacred promise now in effect. He studies my face carefully as if to see if I was really serious even with the pinky promise.

He bites the inside of his cheek going silent for a beat before finally speaking, “Why don’t you just tell Dean you love him?”

“Sam-“ I sigh, not knowing what to say. We’ve had this conversation before, years ago, where it was established that Sam knew my feelings for his brother.

“Why would I confess to someone who doesn't feel the same way?” I finally say.

“But he does!” He practically yells, getting weird looks from those who sat around us- library rules and all that. His face flushes a deep pink with embarrassment, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone loves you, that he loves you?

“Look where he is right now, at a bar probably getting some girl's number or even leaving with her to hook up. He clearly doesn't feel the same for me as I do him.” I explained, a little frustrated. He doesn't say anything for a while again, “I think he does that to avoid his feelings for you.”

“Yes you think but you do not know and I…” I sigh, “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Don’t you notice the way he stares at you? He couldn’t keep his hands off of you” He points out, referring to the Hook Man case. “That was for a cover” I answer simply.

“There were a lot of times where there wasn’t an excuse for a cover up, like the armchair.” The mere mention of me sitting on Dean's lap makes my face feel hot.

I don’t have anything to counter that, I mean it was just to amplify me being his girlfriend for a cover. That’s what it was.

He becomes all sassy and self assured as he speaks, “See! Deep down you know I'm right, you just don’t wanna admit it. And you know what I noticed?”

“What?” I humor him, making eye contact.

“Every time you get hurt or there’s even a little bit of concern towards you he stops hiding his feelings. It’s like suddenly no other woman exists, only you.

You have to have noticed that at least.”

I bit on my bottom lip in thought, he’s right. I can think of numerous occasions where Dean had ignored very attractive women when I was hurt or in the prospect of danger, exactly as Sam said.

No.

No.

Nope.

Dean Winchester is not in love with me, it isn’t true.

“You know a couple months back” I begin, “I forget which hunt it was. But it was only like a month of being on the road with you guys and through that whole time it hadn’t mattered the circumstance, even when we were in the middle of hunting, or where we were, either way Dean was flirting or hooking up with some girl. And every single time I would feel this…this…pang in my heart or maybe like my heart had dropped into my stomach. Which only made me feel more like a fool.

So it got to a point where I just decided, you know what, I'm gonna force myself. I'm going to pretend that I don’t have feelings for him. That it doesn't pain me to see him like that with other women.

“Did it work?” He asks me, his eyes having a certain solemn look to them.

I sigh for the upteenth time, “No. For some stupid reason I can’t stop loving your brother.” He turns his eyes down towards the table.

I try to catch his eyes, “Do you get what I’m saying?”

He looks back up at me, “Yeah. My brother’s an idiot.”

I choke on my laugh, taking a deep breath before I speak, “Maybe. Or…maybe it just isn’t meant to be.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #romance #half chapter #blurb #writing blurb #light angst #feelings acknowledged #sam playing cupid #winchester x reader #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x f!reader #supernatural season 1 #supernatural x reader #the hunter and the witch