#he adores to play the lovesick fool part

[madame-fear]

꒰ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐂 | 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. ꒱

ೀ amira speaks! : okay so,, I know this isn’t what I’m used to writing on this blog — but lately I’ve been hyperfixating on this man so badly, that I felt the need of writing something for him myself! Anyways, enjoy this lovelies !! 💗 I felt kind of shy writing for Enzo, but I think I will write more things for this man jakdkdjdjkl ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : just dating headcanons for our beloved man. 💕

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : mostly fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : enzo vogrincic x (fem)!reader

˗ˏˋ REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN ´ˎ˗

: ̗̀➛ i can definitely picture him as the type of boyfriend that would be extremely loving & devoted to you. A bit clingy as well... A bit too clingy, but you can’t really complain — it simply makes you love him even more.

: ̗̀➛ Expect to be showered in praises & kisses from day to night. I think Enzo would always find the perfect opportunity to show you just how stromg his undying adoration for you is no matter the place, or timing.

: ̗̀➛ Lazy morning kisses that go from your neck, to your jawline, to your cheek while he cuddles you tightly from behind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear to gently wake you up? Yeah, he definitely does that.

: ̗̀➛ “linda”, “princesa”, “mi vida”, “mi amor”, “bonita”, “muñeca”, “chiquita” — those are just some nicknames he has for you, and you only. I have the feeling he’d have many other nicknames for you, even some silly ones, but these would be the ones he uses the most with you.

: ̗̀➛Whenever your back is facing him, Enzo would take the opportunity to show up from behind and give you love. Maybe he randomly takes you into his arms and spins you around in the spot just to make yoy giggle, or maybe his arms would wrap themselves tightly around your waist, as he nuzzles your neck with the tip of his nose in a rather loving — and teasing — manner.

: ̗̀➛ Don’t be surprised if, while you’re doing the most basic mindless thing, like scrolling on your phone or watching TV, you find him staring at you like a lovesick fool, smiling to himself. I can totally see him doing this, and I think it would be very sweet.

: ̗̀➛ Lap sitting, lap sitting, lap sitting. It really doesn’t matter if both of you are reading a book, talking together, or are on your phones — you need to be sitting on his lap. He just absolutely adores how it feels to have you tightly pressed against his body, or how you become flustered everytime he sits you on top of him (or pats his lap invitingly, instead of straight up sitting you there).

: ̗̀➛ You know when cats rub their heads against one another to show affection? Yeah,, I have the feeling he does this when he’s needy to show you his love. Change my mind.

: ̗̀➛Not a single part of your body would go to waste when it comes to kisses. Tip of your nose? Kissed. Your cheeks? Obviously, kissed. Forehead? Most definitely, yes. Hands & knuckles? All the time. Jaw? Yes, checked. Neck? His favourite spot to kiss you, double checked.

: ̗̀➛ Sweet man also loves having you cuddled by his side. Perhaps you’re talking about nothing in particular, or perhaps you’re reading a book together... Or he’s reading outloud to you, in a very gentle manner — it doesn’t matter. The feeling of having you cuddling him while one of his hands play tenderly with your hair is the best feeling that there is to be.

: ̗̀➛ If you prefer to keep privacy, Enzo would be very understanding with that, of course. But otherwise, if you don’t mind, expect to go to the Red Carpet, to every single premier and event by his side, and have him proudly show you off to everyone.

: ̗̀➛ Have I mentioned cuddles, tons & tons of them all the time? I don’t think so. 👀

: ̗̀➛ You’re so pampered by him, that you would have an endless showers of gifts for you. Be it jewellery he knows you’d like, a bouquet of flowers with a love poem written in a small card attatched to them, makeup, plushies — you name it. Whatever you like, and whatever helps to show his love, he will gift it right away to you.

: ̗̀➛ He’s very attentive to your every mood change. If he notices something is wrong with you, Enzo will ask you if you’re alright, if you need anything, or if something happened to upset you. It kind of makes you melt seeing him so soft & caring & understanding around you.

: ̗̀➛ coughcough — he definitely thinks about you carrying his last name and how well it suits you & about having children together — coughcough

: ̗̀➛Often he volunteers himself to do your makeup (you would probably have to teach him how) and to do your hair as well. And. . . I think. . . He would kind of stare at you with puppy eyes if you refuse, and would insist until you allow him to do so. 🥺

: ̗̀➛This man cooks for you no matter how much you insist on doing it yourself. He just enjoys cooking whatever you love eating the most, and getting to see your flustered reactions at it.

: ̗̀➛ Stealing borrowing his clothes? That’s one of your favourite things to do, and you often do it to tease him. His clothes would obviously be a bit too big for you, but does it really matter? It’s a win-win for both of you. You get to feel him even closer to you, and feel his warmth and sweer scent; and he gets to swoon over you wearing his clothes.

: ̗̀➛ This man would be extremely overprotective with you. He would be the most delicate, gentle, loving, and protecting boyfriend you could ever have. If someone either flirts with you, or does the slightest thing to make you comfortable, you would have him there protecting you in any possible way.

: ̗̀➛That’s it. Just prepare yourself to be loved & cuddled to no end by a fool who is sick in love with you. But he would give you the proper care & attention you deserve — absolute princess treatment at all costs. 💗

#enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic fluff #enzo vogrincic y tu #enzo vogrincic smut

[sadienita]

SKZ Reaction - When you’re not very cuddly or touchy

Chan

Okay he, like, kinda likes it. We already know he loves the members that run from his affection. How many times have we seen him capture Minho or Seungmin with the biggest grin on his face the whole time? If you don't mind a hug from time to time he’ll honestly have a lot of fun. He kinda loves that you don’t want his cuddles every second of the day but it will lead to him sneaking up on you for a surprise hug and kiss or else chasing you down the hall, giggling the whole way until he tackles you onto the bed. He will let you go quickly each time though, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. And he’ll always assess your mood before playing around too, if he sees you’re having a rough day he’ll ask how he can make it better, only ever touching you if you request physical comfort. He is a little sad that you aren’t up for bedtime cuddles most nights but more than once you’ve rolled over in your sleep and somehow ended up in his arms and it always melts his heart when it happens. Some part of you will always seek out some form of comfort from him no matter the situation.

Minho

He’s very okay with this. He doesn’t like being touchy all the time and honestly prefers small touches here and there to constantly being in contact. He will be a little sad if you don’t want to sit on his lap often, that’s maybe the one thing he would like but he respects your boundaries and he wouldn’t be happy knowing you were uncomfortable on his lap anyway. He loves the interactions you do have. He loves staring at you and giving you a soft smile and a slow blink when you catch him, a silent way to say “I love you.” He loves the light way you touch his arm to get his attention, like a feather. He likes the way you’ll absentmindedly link your pinkie with his if you’re both quietly taking in a beautiful view. He loves the gentle, soft way you touch his face to move his hair or remove the eyelash that’s fallen on his cheek. He likes your small, quiet way of loving each other.

Changbin

He doesn’t mind it too much. He likes a more casual touch with you so at first it’s not an issue but over time he has to find where the line is. He likes having an arm around you but knows you get uncomfortable if he does it for too long. It ends up getting reserved for when you’re out at a party together, a quiet reassurance that he’s right beside you. He does like holding your hand but he won’t initiate if it isn’t your thing. He will, however, giggle like a lovesick fool if you lace your fingers with his no matter the situation. He really adores it and cherishes those moments. He can be playful with it too. When he can tell you’re in a good mood he’ll suddenly try to scoop you up or if you’re very unlucky, he’ll run at you and grab you so he can use the momentum to spin you around; he is not always careful of your surroundings. He thinks it's fun to catch you off guard and make you squeal or yell, chuckling to himself every time.

Hyunjin

He’s honestly somewhat similar. He doesn’t need to be in contact with you 24/7 and he likes that you feel the same way. It takes so much pressure off that you don’t constantly expect hand-holding or cuddling. In fact, his favourite thing is being alone together with you. When you get to the point of comfortable silence he’ll start inviting you to come sit with him while he paints, or to come and hang out in the dance studio while he practices. Your presence makes him feel so calm and happy and he knows if he wants your attention it’ll be easy to get. When he’s painting he likes to reach over and touch you from time to time, just to remind you he’s right there. He’ll show you what he’s working on from time to time. He loves when you bring something to work on yourself and share your own progress with him. The fact that you value his opinion makes him feel so incredibly special. When he’s dancing he can be a bit silly, a grin drawing over his face before he flops his sweaty body on top of you simply to annoy. He does delight in that. When he does touch you it’s always so gentle, adjusting your clothes, fixing your hair or head covering, pressing a very soft kiss to your nose, forehead, or knuckles. He loves treating you with the utmost gentleness.

Jisung

It’s all fine at first. He’s nervous when you first get together, not wanting to screw it all up. And knowing that you’re not that into skinship means he can just avoid it. But as time goes on he wants to. He wants to hold your hand and hug you and kiss you and cuddle with you. For a long time he’ll just try to swallow those needs down, as if they aren’t filling him to the brim. But eventually, during a particularly hard week, he’s desperate to ask you for comfort. He still doesn’t call you over but when he misses plans with you you show up at his place and take no time at all to cradle him, wrapping him in your arms and slowly calming him down. He finally admits after that that he wants some contact sometimes. It takes negotiations and trial and error to find where the most comfortable boundaries are. He likes sitting next to you during movies, feeling your leg pressed against his, and he likes when you fall asleep on his shoulder. He likes when you doodle along his skin sometimes, absentmindedly. He likes when you play with his hair, it always makes him feel so cozy and sleepy. And he loves that when he’s struggling that he doesn’t even need to ask, you’re quick to wrap him in a warm hug and give him the comfort he craves, holding him together whenever he’s close to falling apart.

Felix

He has by far the most trouble with it. He wants contact with you all the time. He wants to put his arms around you. He wants to cuddle you. He wants to feel close to you. He does his best to respect your boundaries because the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable with him. He stops himself every time he goes to touch you absentmindedly, bringing his hands back to himself. But he doesn’t consider his own desires much and over time it puts a strain on your relationship. He gets very needy for verbal affirmations of your love and constantly tries to do everything for you to prove that he cares. It’s when you get annoyed with how overbearing he can be about it and ask him to stop that he breaks down crying, admitting that he doesn’t know how to love you the right way. It devolves into both of you crying and sitting with each other, holding his hands the whole time. It takes more tears before he admits that he doesn’t feel loved, that he needs some form of contact and it makes you realize that he’s been so wrapped up in your needs and you’ve neglected his. From that point on you try to find where your comfort lies and what feels okay. You find that a quick hug and soft kiss feels alright. You find that holding hands for a little while feels alright. You find that small things like feeding each other food and letting him do small tasks for you makes him so happy. And you find that in cold weather, a little bit of cuddling for a short while is nice. You both pay attention both to your own levels of comfort and the other’s feelings much more.

Seungmin

He thought he would be fine with it but he realizes he touches you absentmindedly a lot more than he thought he would. A gentle hand on your back to let you know he’s passing behind you in the kitchen, reaching out to cup your cheek and run his thumb over it, grabbing your hand in crowded place, a back hug when he wakes up to find that despite you sleeping over, you’ve gone wandering off somewhere else in the apartment and he comes to find you. It definitely causes tension, feeling and seeing the way you tense up when his fingertips find your skin. It reminds him quickly but he seems to have a hard time not initiating in the first place. It takes you getting frustrated with him before you two agree to sit down and talk through where the boundaries actually are. In time he realizes that you certainly don’t like surprise touches and you realize that he feels a little unloved if you never touch him at all. You adopt little touches, petting or playing with his hair, pressing stray kisses to him as you pass, pulling his hand into your lap and gently playing with it while you watch dramas. He grows to tell you when he’s going to touch you, giving you a verbal indication that he’s nearby first and keeping his touches more brief when he does give them to you.

Jeongin

He ends up pretty comfortable with this. He likes to hug you or to hold your hand from time to time but it makes him shy to do it too much. And he doesn’t like doing it in public or around other people, feeling a bit embarrassed every time it happens. Instead, he loves other ways to show you he cares. He loves dressing you up. He will beg you to let him pick your outfits and gets so excited when you say yes. He’ll leave gentle touches on you when he helps you with any jewelry he’s picked out. He ends up touching you the most while posing for pics, both of you invested in getting a good picture. He does like to play with your rings if you’re wearing any but he lets you give him your hand before he does so. He also loves when you fix his outfit or hair; reaching out to straighten or adjust something. He’ll keep hugs brief and likes just to be near you more than anything. You bring him a sense of comfort whether touching him or not and relishes that.

#i feel like i always see the reactions where reader is super cuddly #and never the opposite #so um this is that #aksjdkashkd i do not expect this to do well #but hey maybe some of yall arent too touchy so maybe this will resonate with you #also if you have like a reaction request my ask box is open #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #lee know imagines #changbin imagines #hyunjin imagines #han imagines #felix imagines #seungmin imagines #i.n imagines

[dawndelion-winery]

Death Do Us Part Not

The types of immortal lovers they are in your every reincarnation

Ft. Dainsleif, Scaramouche, Zhongli

Dainsleif:

The one who pursues you in every lifetime

The most painful part of each century was watching you succumb to your feeble mortality as you withered away before him

But it was never enough closure for him to give up on you

So he searched for you every time you left him, all alone in the forsaken world he roamed

And every time, he'd find you, approaching you with that same longing hesitance

Be it as a friend or lover, he was there for you in every lifetime, because to him, there was no one else

He's always been patient, after all

Ever your loyal knight, he stays true to his chivalry until the very end

You in all your lives will never know peril or anguish from the moment you're within his reach

You look exhausted, he thinks. Yet even that does nothing to dull your appeal to him. He still thinks you're worth every risk, and every sacrifice.

"No matter how far you may be, I will find you. And I will return to you, whether you recall me enough to miss me or not, for only by your side may my heart rest at ease. Such is my yearning for you, and thus for you am I this hopeless, lovesick fool."

Scaramouche:

The one you keep bumping into, so much so that it has to be fate

He's crafty, and he knows better than to press for your affection lest he end up pushing you away

So he waits

He always finds you because of course he does, he's drawn to you, inexplicably, helplessly, and unconsciously

Yet every time, he plays the waiting game, slowly inserting himself into your life

He knows he has to appear in your dreams by this point, every encounter feeling like deja vu to you

Inevitably, you find yourself attached

He worms his way into your life as though he was always meant to be there

And frankly, you believe he is

Scara feels nothing but contentment as he strokes your hair, knowing his schemes had succeeded once again in pulling you to him. He seems too perfect to be real, so familiar with your preferences, so ideally catered to your type that it's hard to believe he's yours.

"Would you believe me if I said I exist for you?" he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. "The sun knows no splendour like your smile, and the oceans know no torrent like the warring storms you wage in my soul. So believe me, even if only in this moment, as the stars align in your grace and freeze my breath with the chill if the night air. Let my tongue feel heavy like lead unless it is to whisper sweet adoration to you...and may you trust in it, that I only speak my truth."

Zhongli:

The one you always end up falling with in the end

There is not a doubt in his mind that you are the only one for him

Yet he could never quite bring himself to say the same for you

If he thought you'd live a happier life without him, he's more than ready to support you from the shadows without you even knowing he existed

Even if it meant seeing you with someone else

But at the end of the day, there's only so much he can manage to do without your knowledge

From the moment your eyes meet, he knows he's done for; he's falling in an endless spiral and can't bring himself to let you go

"Please, be happy," he whispers to you with his hands on your shoulders, his gaze beseeching you. With a ghost of a kiss on your forehead - one you're not even sure made contact - he disappears.

Just like that you're left to ponder if he was a mirage. Yet the memory of him feels too real, his image in your mind's eye far too vivid, even in memories you swear you've never experienced, but are undeniably yours.

"I'll await your return," he says in your memory. "And I will continue to cherish the thought of you then, to crave your phantom touches until you replace them with your presence."

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @missesclaus @cxlrose @miss-fantazmagoria @astrequa @kokomist @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @ash-astrophel @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof

#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #dainsleif #scara #scaramouche #wanderer #zhongli #dainsleif x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin dainsleif #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #genshin zhongli #winery specials

[amaiyajiki]

1610!Miles Morales x Reader (Dating Headcannons)

Tags:Fluff, Before and After Established Relationship, Miles being a dork, Gender neutral Reader, Swearing, Slight spoilers for both into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, Etc, Author has some questionable Spanish skills-

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

-Having a crush on you-

-Now I feel like he would act like a very nervous lovesick fool around you. He would definitely stutter a bit when talking to you cause you're just so pretty! and handsome and gorgeous and... He could honestly go on forever.

-I also feel like he would ask Uncle Aaron on how to impress you before the events of into the spiderverse (R.I.P Aaron, you'll be missed :() He would definitely try to follow his uncle's advise but ultimately fail cause you might think it's cringy or something. PLEASE- He would definitely try that one scene with gwen in Into the spiderverse, where he goes like "Hey" and puts a hand on your shoulder.

-Ganke would unfortunately have to deal with his lovesick ass. Miles would talk about you so much that Ganke kicked his ass out of the dorm for disturbing his sleep because he talked so much about you. You guys know his sketchbook? Miles would definitely use you as an inspiration to draw a lot.

-Miles would draw you A LOT. You in every single view, in every single outfit you wear, etc. So don't be surprised if you managed to take a look at his sketchbook and see a bunch of fucking drawings of you.

-Would definitely make playlists for you guys to listen to when ya'll study together. And let me just say- Mans got some good taste. He would definitely pick songs that make him remind of you. He would also get some songs you like as well! He would definitely ask you what your music tastes are or what artists you listen to.

-I feel like Miles would do like research on what you like and dislike, just so he could talk to you. Miles would freak out every time you did something adorable or hot.

-Now after the events of Into the spiderverse and he has become spider-man. As Spider-man, if there's any danger where you may be lingering, he might save you first. Miles's heart would break if you got injured. Miles would probably guilt-trip himself about your situation. -I feel like Miles would confess to you by texting you romantic music lyrics. If you liked him as well, Miles would freak out like, "W-wait? You like me too?! Uhm- Well I like you as well! So....does this mean we're dating now-? So uh date this friday or after school?"

-On the other hand, if you didn't feel the same way, Miles would play it off or be understanding like, "Oh I see....But can we still be friends tho?" Or "Oml, I just wanted to see if you knew the lyrics or not-". Either way he would be heart broken. (BUt let's not focus on the rejection part:))

-Dating Him- -I feel like he would be such a sweetheart but oh so shy. He's still young and he's got a lot to learn. He would be kind of awkward since you're his first relationship (and probably his last).

-Kisses with him are definitely quick at first, but he starts to kiss you on the lips more. But his favorite place to kiss you is probably your cheeks and forehead. He probably gives you quick pecks. I don't think Miles is all that comfortable with PDA, but he will hold your hand and give you pecks.

-If you're a civilian, he will definitely try to rescue you from any danger. If you also know his identity, expect to come through your window every night, with flowers in hand ofc. Ya'll would definitely do the iconic upside-down Spider kiss.

-But if you're also a spider-person, he would be ecstatic but also very worried. What if you get hurt badly? What if a villain kidnaps you? what if- Just reassure him that you'll be fine and give him a kiss. I mean- What's better than fighting a villain with partner who's also a spider?

-His friends would definitely know about you, whether you're a spider-person or not. Why? Cause he gushes so much about you. Gwen sometimes fake gags just because Miles is so lovestruck. Peter would tease him and say, "Ah...young love" with a proud grin. Pavatir would tease you two about being so in love with each other. Hobbie would tell them to cut it out and maybe give Miles some advice. And ganke already knows it:)

Rooftop dates are kind of common in your guy's relationship. After a long day of fighting crime, you and miles just wanna cuddle together on a rooftop and watch the stars. You guys would definitely have study dates and help each other out. You and Miles would make playlists for each other and listen to them together.

-If you're an artist as well, Miles would want your opinion in his artwork or his graffiti. Maybe do graffities together! Even if you can't do it, Miles can teach you! if you want to do it ofc. Miles would be respectful if you didn't want to show your art to him. But if you did show him your sketchbook, he would be complimenting you despite of your art style. Miles and you could give each other tips on how to make your art better.

-His parents would LOVE you, especially if you call them Mr or Mrs. Morales. (I swear- I was so shocked when gwen called them by their real names-). His mother would love you that you're making her son feel so loved. She would invite you sometimes for dinner and such. Miles is so glad that you're getting along with his mom. His dad definitely appreciates you that you and Miles are happy with each other.

-If you speak another language, he would definitely try and learn and maybe teach you some Spanish too. (If you aren't already familiar with the language and know how to speak it). His petnames for you would consist of some Spanish names like, Mi corazon,(My heart), Amor (love), Mi vida(My life) ,Mi alma (my soul), Mi amada (My beloved) and so on. (Trust me- I don't speak Spanish- So I hope I didn't say anything wrong over here-)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/n: I hope yall enjoyed this writing I had for all of you! Make sure to drink water and eat food! Also! Requests are open for everyone! I write for many other fandoms as well! Have a good day now!

#spiderverse x reader #miles morales #x reader #gender neutral reader #miles morales x reader #1610 miles morales

[lunareclipses-moments]

Red string of trouble

Idia x FAB reader

Words count:1.2k

That's part 2 , but you can read both of them separately

Part 1

Tags: @ryuuisthecutest

As the first rays of sunlight nudged the humans, some were reminded of their responsibilities, reluctantly emerging from the small safe haven known as bed, groaning and clearly dissatisfied with being awake. The other half remained wide awake, potentially completing a late assignment, gaming into the night, shedding tears and seeking forgiveness from God (Rollo), or possibly grappling with insomnia.

One the other hand Ortho Expecting his brother to be wide awake, Ortho anticipated the usual sight of him glued to his computer screen as if it were his lifeline. However, that morning brought an unexpected change. His brother was sprawled on the floor, fixated on his thumb like a lovesick high schooler, giggling, and mumbling words in a charmingly incorrect manner.

"Ortho!! You're awake! How was your power nap?" exclaimed Idia, unusually excited and brimming with life, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

"Who is this?! What did he do to my gloomy, depressed older brother? Is this the real world, or am I still dreaming? Yeah, probably,"Ortho pondered deeply. Deciding not to spoil his mood, he chose to ignore it for now.

"It was great, nii-san. But what put you in such a great mood, especially in the morning?" Ortho inquired.

Huh, me? I'm always in a good mood when I see the most adorable robot, who happens to be my lovely younger brother," Idia said, faking an innocent face to lure his younger brother.

'Liar! Oh, that's probably because I took his lab coat and forbade him from wearing it indoors to game,' Ortho thought, starting to feel slightly annoyed by his older brother's bad hygiene habits.

"No, I'm not giving your lab coat back. Deal with it," Ortho stated as he made his way towards the door. Idia hurriedly closed it, panicking, "No, wait! That's not what I was going to ask!"

"So you want something from me. I am hurt, nii-san," Ortho faked an expression of being hurt to tease his brother. Idia was starting to think he hurt the little robot's feelings.

"No, no, no, you got it all wrong—" but Ortho interrupted him before he could continue his sentence.

"I'm just joking, nii-san. Of course, I am happy to help with anything, except illegal behavior, of course," Ortho finished with a little giggle.

"You know, maybe I'm starting to regret letting you resign from the film club," Idia said, feeling like a fool being played by his brother like that.

"You still didn't answer my question, though," Ortho asked, ignoring his last pity remark.

"Define illegal?" Idia asked, not meeting Ortho's gaze. On the other hand, Ortho was starting to worry about what kind of foolish things his brother got himself into, or maybe he was planning something harmful.

"I don't know, maybe kidnapping?!" answered a very concerned and confused Ortho.

"For your information, the king of the underworld kidnapped his lover, and she still loved him back."

"Idia... That was a story our parents used to tell us before bed. You're not planning to kidnap someone, are you?" Ortho was in a frenzy from his brother's crazy ideas, and a very uncomfortable silence fell between them.

"Is this the part where you tell me you were joking?" asked Ortho, trying to break the silence.

"Nope, I am dead serious," replied Idia without hesitation.

"But that's the part where I leave and forget that this conversation happened," giggled Ortho.

"Unless you want me to cook up a plan that doesn't involve kidnapping and Stockholm syndrome," ortho suggested as idia analyzed his plans and the possibilities. He thought that maybe giving Ortho a chance might help him.

"But if it doesn't work, we'll go back to my original plan," Ortho couldn't help but sigh at his brother.

"Ah, fine. But only because I know my plan will work just fine. Go get some sleep; you look like a sleep-deprived zombie," he added, knowing he was dealing with Idia.

"Sleeping is overrated."

"Go to bed, or I am calling Mum." Ortho was ready to stoop that low just to get his brother to bed.

As the day went by, Idia couldn't help but feel like something was amiss. After his previous conversation with Ortho, the little robot was nowhere to be found. Worry started to gnaw at him, but his concerns were momentarily replaced when Ortho sent him a text, instructing him to go to the woods behind the ramshackle dorm in the dead of night.

'I have a very bad feeling about this,' Idia thought to himself, screaming internally.

Meanwhile, with Ortho and the ramshackle perfect, Ortho was set on putting his plan into action. Following his unconventional conversation with Idia, he sought out the perfect. If his brother couldn't talk to her normally, then he would help him, whether Idia liked it or not.

This led him to engage in a pleasant conversation with the perfect, highlighting how wonderful his brother truly was and how much of a sweetheart he could be once you got to know him. Surprisingly, the perfect seemed to take a liking to Idia.

'Everything is falling according to the plan,' Ortho couldn't help but think to himself.

"You know, Ortho, I actually enjoy talking with you. It feels nice conversing with an intelligent being once in a while," her words filled Ortho's ears, eliciting a giggle from him.

"You know, Perfect, I made a surprise for you," Ortho's words reached her, and she couldn't help but feel confused.

"Huh, me?"

"Yeah, you. I heard that you were searching for your soulmate, and I think I can help you," Ortho's voice carried a hint of knowing something she didn't.

"Well then, what are you waiting for?! Lead the way, lil guy."

"Heheh, I knew you would listen to me,but you will lead the way , we will you the string around your finger as our guide " their laughter filled the small forest as they ventured into the pitch black forest

On the other side, as Idia walked into the small forest, he couldn't help but groan at the soreness he felt, and the burning sensation around his thumb wasn't helping at all.

'Ortho, you're lucky that I love you because if I didn't, I wouldn't be here,' he sighed. Despite the discomfort, he continued walking, occasionally bumping his head into random tree branches. After five minutes of aimless wandering, he heard voices.

The voices were familiar, in fact, it was his brother's voice along with another. Out of curiosity, he stealthily made his way closer to eavesdrop on his brother's conversation. However, his not-so-subtle attempt at stealth was thwarted when he accidentally snapped a stick under his foot, prompting the perfect and Ortho to look around in confusion.

"Huh, no, I didn't hear anything at all," Ortho replied, attempting to divert the perfect's attention away from the mysterious noise who was probably his brother;to salvage his plan.

"I swear I heard something."

"Well, if you're interested, I can look for it, but you have to follow the red string on your pinkie, though."

"But—"

"No 'buts,' go!" Ortho insisted, lightly pushing her forward.

"Fine, but if I get kidnapped, it's your fault."

"Don't worry, no one will kidnap you today, at least," he muttered the last words to himself with a sarcastic laugh.

"What was that?" the perfect questioned, catching Ortho off guard.

"Nothing at all"

As the perfect followed the red string, she felt like she was chasing prey that kept slipping away every time she got close. Unbeknownst to her, Idia was indeed running away from her, fueled by a desperate attempt to avoid being caught. However, his limited stamina betrayed him, leaving him gasping for air while leaning against a tree for support.

"Finally found you! Do you know how many sticks and stones I tripped over to reach you?" she exclaimed as she approached the crouched and breathless Idia. Despite the guilt creeping in, he mustered the courage to turn around and face her.

"Well, congratulations on finding what you were searching for. But sorry to disappoint you, though. I'm not going to be your knight in shining armor or the prince that will whisk you away to his fairy castle. Feel free to turn around and go home. I'm ready for rejection," he added with a touch of sarcasm before turning away and attempting to walk off.

Just then, he felt something grab his hand. "Look, we landed on the wrong foot here. How about we get to know each other first? Even though Ortho told me a lot of great stories about you, I'd like to hear it from your mouth. I'll start first," she suggested, extending her hand for him to shake.

"Hello there, my soulmate. My name is Y/n; I am the ramshackle perfect. I'm not from here, and I would like to know more about you." To say Idia was stunned was understandable, but he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away, so he shook her hand.

"Idia Shroud, Ignihyde dorm leader. Nice to meet you too, I guess."

"Ortho was right; you can be nice when you want to be," she exclaimed with a little giggle.

"Speaking of Ortho, where is he?" she wondered, looking around.

"No idea, but I wouldn't worry too much. He's probably here hiding somewhere."

Unknown to them, the little robot was sitting in the tree above them, silently observing as they chatted the night away. Ortho, perched in the branches, watched with a contented smile as his matchmaking efforts unfolded. The trio enjoyed each other's presence without realizing that this ordinary night would lead them to something even more magical.

As they laughed and shared stories under the moonlit canopy, the small forest became witness to the beginning of a beautiful journey. Little did they know, the magic of that night would set the stage for countless more enchanting moments and enduring connections, weaving a tapestry of memories that would last a lifetime. The little robot, hidden among the leaves, silently celebrated the success of his unexpected and heartwarming adventure in bringing two souls together.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twst idia #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst imagines #twisted wonderland incorrect quotes #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twisted wonderland idia #i love feral ortho #ortho best boi #ortho shroud best wingman #ortho shroud #ortho twst #ortho twisted wonderland

[lxclerc]

Arthur + Can i be him

pairing: arthur leclerc x reader prompt: can i be him by james arthur rated: angst

lex's 2k party

i swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me like it was a private show

the sound of your voice echoes around the room beautifully, having arthur completely mesmerized as he watches the way your nimble fingers strummed the guitar strings, your eyes close and your lips moving so softly. 

at that moment, in your perfect moment of serenity, you’ve never looked more beautiful in his eyes. tt felt intimate somehow. the way you sat before him, your legs crossed and your guitar leaning on your thigh and him right in front of you. it makes his heart beat in a rhythm, matching that of your melody. it felt intimate knowing you’re here with him. it almost feels like his very own private show, one with the lovesick lyrics you’re singing dedicated to him. 

he knows different though. he’d be a fool to let himself hope it is, make this something it isn’t. the song isn’t for him the same way the soft smile on your face as you sang isn’t. he’s played this game before – let himself hope for something that isn’t there, led himself on from signals you never gave out. arthur has one place in your life and it will never be the one he wants. 

your song comes to a close and after the last strum of your guitar, your eyes slightly open, a shy smile on your face as you were greeted by the awestruck look in his eyes. for a moment, arthur did nothing but stare at you, in complete awe of your beauty and god given talent. 

you’re an angel, he’s sure. and he should count himself lucky he’s even part of your life.

“well?” you press lightly, starting to feel anxious by his staring. “what do you think?” 

finally, he’s brought out of his daze, a smile spreading across his face as he all but tackles you to the ground, making you release a yelp. 

“arthur!” you screamed out, trying to push him off you as his much bigger frame seems to crush your ribs. “get off me, you idiot!” 

“do you even have to ask?” arthur only laughs, placing his arms on either sides of your head to support his weight. “mon dieu, y/n, tu es la personne la plus talentueuse que je connaisse.” my god, y/n, you are the most talented person i know.

you can’t help but laugh as well, knowing you can always count on your best friend to always be your biggest supporter. “okay now get off me!” 

little giggles still escape him as he finally moves off of you, flopping down to the space next to you as he smiled at the ceiling. at times like this, he can almost forget. when you’re next to him, laughing that beautiful laugh of yours that he adores, smiling at him like he’s the one who hung the moon, it’s so easy to forget that you aren’t his, that you’ll never feel the same way, that you will never be his. 

you move to your side so you’re facing him, a gentle smile on your face. arthur’s heart seemingly wants to beat out of his chest as he meets your eyes – so gentle and so beautiful and so familiar that it almost feels like home.

“thank you, arthur,” you say softly. “for always being there.”

he forced a smile on his face, swallowing the urge to scream that he loves, that he’s so madly in love with you it physically hurts sometimes. but instead, all he says is “always.”

he will always be there, always be by your side cheering the loudest, always loving you without asking for anything back.

i heard there was someone but I know he don't deserve you

there’s a certain glow to you as you sit before him now, the usual monocan sun bouncing against your head, making it look as though you had a halo. or maybe it’s just arthur. you’ve always been the most beautiful girl in his eyes. 

the usual monte carlo coffee shop that you used to spend your afternoons at as a teenager feels comforting as you smile at your best friend, a school bag over your shoulder and a smidge of pain on your hand. your hair is hastily braided and the freckles on your cheeks prominent under the sun. 

arthur notices every little thing about you. he notices every little detail and every little change. he knows you as well as he knows the back of his hand. 

“désolé, je suis en retard,” you say with a smile, placing your laptop down as you order your usual hot choco. sorry, i'm late.

arthur narrowed his eyes, placing his chin on his hands as he studied you for a little bit. “are you wearing make up?” 

your eyebrows furrowed together as you look up at him. “maybe.”

“did you have a presentation for class?” 

a light blush covers your cheeks. “maybe i just wanted to put in more effort this morning. ever thought of that?”

arthur playfully scoffed. “you wouldn’t get up early even if there was a house fire.”

“okay fine,” you roll your eyes before thanking the server as your cup of hot chocolate is placed before you. “maybe, possibly, i’m seeing someone.”

his heart dropped to his stomach then. he had been expecting something, anything but that. he thought perhaps it was a class presentation or maybe a meeting with your manager, but not that. “oh.” 

of course, you’ve dated other men before. and of course he knew you’d eventually start dating again but the two of you have been single for so long, only having each other, that the news and the idea feels so foreign to him. what did it mean? does it mean less time together? what if the new guy you were seeing doesn’t like him or is not comfortable with the closeness of your friendship? it’s definitely happened before. hell, it’s been an issue with every girlfriend he’s ever had. only, those girls definitely had a reason to be jealous of you. it seems obvious to everyone but you that he’s madly in love with you.

but he saw the way you’re nervously chewing on your lower lip, hand beginning to fidget with the hem of your long sleeve shirt and his heart shattered. he knew then that this isn’t just ‘seeing someone’. you like this guy and arthur’s approval means something to you and god fucking damn it, arthur would have to act like he’s happy for you. he would have to play the role of the supportive best friend he’s always played. 

so he plastered a smile on his face, hoping it hides the cracks in his heart. “now who did you scam into dating you? does the poor guy know you drool in your sleep?”

his teasing seems to immediately put you at ease and you let out a playful scoff. “i do not drool.”

“i have many pictures to prove otherwise”

and despite the smile on his face and the little giggles as the two of you continue joking around, all arthur wanted to do is crawl into a ball and cry his heart out, feeling the heaviness in his chess as his heart breaks into a hundred little pieces.  

can i be him?

charles. it was charles. it was fucking charles. of course it had to be him. everything that arthur ever cared about, ever wanted to excel in, he had to stand in charles’ shadow. all his fucking life, he’d stood in charles’ shadow.

and arthur never minded it. he never minded that charles is the better racer or the better son or the better brother. none of it ever mattered because he had you. he always had you to turn to, always had you to comfort him. 

and now charles had taken you too. 

and the worse part is, you look so happy, so in peace and so beautiful as you sat next to his brother, the brightest of smiles on your face, one he’s never seen before, one you’ve never offered him. he’s never seen you like this – so content with life as you placed your chin on charles’ shoulder, laughing at something he said. 

and arthur wanted to scream. he wanted to scream and cry and start a fight. he wanted to be mad and angry. he wanted to accuse his brother of stealing you. he wanted to shake your shoulder and ask why. if you wanted his brother then why couldn’t you want him too? why was he never deserving of your love? what did charles have that he didn’t? 

but he remained quiet. he stayed seated and watched like the masochist that he is. because at the end of the day, he loved you too much. he loved you too much to take this away from you. he loved you too fucking much to destroy your happiness even if it comes with the expense of his own. 

he’s loved you in silence and now his heart breaks in silence. 

but pascale taps her youngest’s arm, pulling him along to the hallway and into arthur’s room where she cupped his cheeks, watching the way his eyes immediately filled with tears. 

“oh mon coeur,” she muttered sadly as she pulled him into her arms. “it’s okay. it’s okay to hurt.” 

arthur couldn’t help it then. his tears fell as his head fell on his mother’s shoulder, arms wrapping around her as though he’s a child again. his body shakes as broken sobs escape his lips. “c'est tellement injuste, maman. he already has everything” it's so unfair, mum.

and pascale only hugged him tighter. “je sais, mon coeur. c'est normal de pleurer.” i know, my heart. it's okay to cry.

“why couldn’t it be me?” he asked in between sobs. how can anyone ever live with heartbreak when heartbreak feels like this? he thought if he loved you enough maybe you’d learn to love him too. he always did pour too much love.

“why can’t i be him?”

#lex's 2k party #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc angst #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagines #formula 1 #formula 2 one shot #formula 3 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Imitation is the best form of flattery, isn’t it?

TW/s: delusional thinking, yandere tendencies, unreliable narrator, toxic dynamic/s, implications for Ayato’s and his matchup, stockholm syndrome(?), nsfw tws include implied self harm, abandonment, power imbalance, degradation and twisted imagery of oneself. Please dni if you are uncomfortable.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day! Thoma has been waiting for you for so long, you know. You shouldn’t have left him waiting like that… After all, it’s unwise to leave someone like him on his own.

Thoma always adored the thought of Valentine’s Day.

He has always imagined it to be as sweet as he saw it with his lover: being with them in private, holding them close, going out and taking care of animals together, and even eating together. He even had everything planned for them, almost like he wanted to make everything proceed as normal as he possibly could.

No one can blame him for that, could they? After all, he’s never had a chance to have someone stay by his side. In his eyes, he’s seen that they went with everyone else, and for him, he was simply the friend that helped them hook them up together.

That was the case up until he met them.

He never knew how it felt to fall in love with someone that was… right for him. It felt like a sin, actually— Thoma recalled how he fell in love with them, how the skies became clear when they first went on a group date together with their friends, and how nature seemed to breathe life in his mundane everyday routine the more he hung out with them.

He enjoyed it. He enjoyed the feeling. He seemed to thrive in it so much, it felt unnatural when they had to part.

Was this what love was meant to feel? Thoma didn’t anticipate it to be so intense, and yet… He couldn’t even get mad at the idea. If anything, he enjoyed the idea of it being intense between the two.

Although many would assume he would be an intense lover, the fixer is not one of the sort. He always adored the slow romance, and seeing his lover and him do it, it felt like a dream come true to him. He even remembered how he simply would brush his hand to theirs and gently intertwine their fingers, his grip loose if she ever felt the need to let go.

She didn’t. He knew that to be true. He was watching, after all.

Sure, their dates were something of a twisted fairytale— there are days the two would relax together, with one being so exhausted and being straight to the point. Other times, they would simply roar to life, passion pouring out of their body like how light would to his moth-like self.

He was drawn to her, flames and all. He loved each side of them, and he adored seeing each side for what they are. He did not feel ashamed to even say that, to him, she just felt… Like his other half.

It was intense, but passionate. It was wrong, but to the two of them, it felt correct. It felt that they’re both bound and free at the same time.

He is what anyone would call a lovesick fool. A hopeless romantic, one may say. One that can’t see a single thing from each and every red flag that they may give, no matter the consequences. Especially at the heat of the moment.

What he never enjoyed in love, though, is the countless ‘arguments’ they had. He hated hurting those he considered precious, and it was how he treated her at the time.

(He forgot how it was him who caused those to happen. His memory often forgets the worst of human’s sins.)

Twisting and weaving through the red fields of flowers, the opera plays onwards as the two lovers danced. Both seem to glide over the dance floor, the room echoed with the laughter of the two, glass flying everywhere, and even the beats of the instruments.

It was what love felt for the two of them.

Thoma was happy to be in that love. To dance with the one he adores so much, and for the one he adored to finally take on the dance.

How metaphorical, one may say. After all, each time they did that, it simply shows the amount of effort their relationship had been built. However, people often said that he would simply act too odd and ‘immoral’ (their words, not his) to be fit for a lover.

He was too possessive, too obsessive, he love bombed his lover too much, he’s raised a hand on them, he has emulated what his lord’s orders were, he had almost harmed himself and stopped for her—

He hardly remembers those. He hardly remembers the accusations people gave him. Those scorned looks ruined the moment every time he remembered, and when those ceased, he still felt bitter.

It was not enough. He needed more.

Thoma needed to be more ‘befitting’ of his role.

He took on the advice of his lord, but it seems that the others have said that it was not the wisest to do. So, he decided to take on the lady’s advice, which was too kind and (in his dearest’s perspective), ‘too eerie’. Because of that, he had simply dropped it, far too concerned to scare his new beloved away.

He took on more from others— Itto, a rapper, suggested he play something for her; something that can be chosen and made by himself. Although the fixer prides himself on being a jack of all trades, he is not musically gifted, so he had to instill their help to be able to understand what to do.

Alas, this did not end well. They made him use their music, and it had simply made things awkward between them.

(He never returned to help them after that. Not even if the world simply burnt itself to the ground.)

He took on the detective’s advice, which led to them having an interesting date. They went out to solve an escape room together, and it was a mess.

(He shouldn’t have relied on Heizou. He had almost killed his lover, and it was only right for him to be murdered, too. It made sense for an eye to be given in return with lies.)

Kazuha’s was a bit better. He told Thoma to make poems for her. Should the heart be able to feel your emotions and return to it twofold, then he had succeeded. Granted, Thoma did not know jack of what poetry is, so it was a nice change of pace after almost being left to rot in an (unescapable) escape room.

When he showed his work to her, he had expected nothing but a grimace. Much to his surprise, though, she was overjoyed. She told him how even if he first started making these, she saw that it was better than the ones she’s red and made before.

For once, it made him happy. Overjoyed.

The music seemed to return to its normal tempo as he continued to dance in the ballroom. Albeit to him, this time, it felt more freeing. More alive than he had ever thought.

Those days, he spent thanking the musician. Yes, he may have asked others for help, but their advice did not aid him. Kazuha’s the only one that helped him by a decent level with letting him explore what he could do, which was poetry.

Although, he did fail to see the signs of how life seems to deteriorate. Of how the flooring and walls became more decrepit as their lives together started to crumble.

They began to have more and more disagreements. Thoma remembered those. He remembered seeing her upset and something in his perception cracking, and how he could only run from those issues, swiping from one mirror at a time to find the one he’s familiar with.

A mirror maze, it was. He kept sprinting here and there to look for it, and yet… He couldn’t even find where it was even located. He couldn’t find the single silver lining that kept them all tied together into one, the only thing that helped him remain the same.

The only thing he seemed to find were bitter, old memories of them together. He remembered their first argument, their first ‘breakup’, how they came back together, how others seem to laugh and jeer at the fixer, how they screamed as he began to enact those sorry ‘tips’ they gave him out of revenge when she got upset—

He hated them.

He hated all of them.

But how could he say that? He can fix things, can’t he? It was simply what he’s made to do.

This situation he’s in is no different, so in his eyes, he simply had to fix what went wrong. After all, should there be answers to it, it would be better he worked on it now than later.

So, he began to dig into the mystery. He began to delve deeper and deeper into things he isn’t meant to see, to begin diving into the uncharted territory that he swore to never step foot.

He gazed in the broken shards of their relationship and from then, he saw the realm— he saw what kept them bound apart.

The mirror before him was large. He recalled passing through it a few times, but when he got near, he saw that it simply showed nothing but the aetherial expanse he used to be in. It was delusional, but he sometimes swore that he’s seen his past there, almost like the fixer is haunted for the many faults he’s committed.

And maybe, in that regard, he was right to think of such a thing.

That blasted mirror is the only lifeline he had for recalling his past. For knowing who he himself is. Yet it also held his deepest pains and sorrows, the agony the two endured together to cause such a major shift in his life with her.

He hated the ugly sight of it. All he saw staring back when he looked was an amalgamation of himself, its many peering eyes glaring daggers in return.

He’s no monster. He is anything but that.

So, he raised his fist and slammed it on the mirror.

Again.

Again.

Again. Again. Again. Again.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

HE KEPT SLAMMING IT OVER AND OVER. HE DESIRED TO BE OUT.

HE DESIRED TO BE RID OF THE FANTASY HE LIVED IN FOR SO LONG.

HE WANTED OUT.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Thoma kept doing the action. He could feel the flowers and splinters of glass go through his body and fists, cutting his fantasy to nothing but what it really shows itself to be.

He’s deluded himself for too long.

HE NEEDED OUT.

AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN.

Then, the mirror FINALLY breaks.

…

…

Heaving for a gasp of air, Thoma felt bits of his clarity return. Gone with the haunting sounds of opera and the ballroom they’ve been dancing in, and gone were those red flowers and the fields.

Even those mirrors didn’t exist in his mind’s eye. It was like… He was free.

Still, this didn’t mean he wasn’t fully able to get away scot-free.

Looking down at his hands, he saw the sight of a mutilated girl’s body, his face blank as blood poured from the many gashes and stab wounds. His fingers shook as he struggled to breathe, tears pouring out of his eyes.

He didn’t know who it was that he killed, but all he knew is that he murdered an innocent woman.

He hardly knew what he could do to remedy this. To fix the mess he made.

His chest heaved as he struggled to regain his breathing, those memories of what occurred catching up to him. He recalled how they had that fight, how it all went wrong, how he became physical with her…

… And how he murdered her in cold blood. The lady he murdered was his lover.

How did he know that was his answer?

The heart he held for her was riddled with glass shards, which were of the same quality and clarity as the one he’s seen in his delusions.

It was far too clear to know who had been guilty for the case of the glass-ridden heart.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: thoma #💌 ;; to: 🌑 anon #💌 ;; promising letter: one last call #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere gi #genshin impact #genshin #gi #yandere #yandere writing #yandere text #male yandere #genshin impact thoma #genshin thoma #yandere thoma

[depravitycentral]

General Yandere! Aran Ojiro Profile

Yandere! Aran Ojiro x fem! reader

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, extreme spoiling/forced financial dependence, guilt tripping, desperation, jealousy, mentions of dub-con and masturbation, mentions of forced physical affection, mentions of creeps, fem reader, MDNI

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

DARLING PROFILE:

 

Sweet

Aran himself is naturally quite nice, despite his penchant for not putting up with other peoples’ bullshit. He’s able to stand up for himself, but he’s never been particularly fond of people who are mean just for the sake of it. He can appreciate a funny joke, a biting comment here or there, but someone who’s entire personality is based off of this? Not so much.

And so, a darling who is naturally quite kind is a perfect match for Aran – he thinks of his beloved as innocent, a little lamb he must protect, and whether this visage of innocence is real or not, Aran believes it to be so. All it takes is a few compliments, a few sweet smiles, some kind favors, anything showcasing his darling’s kindness, really, and Aran is smitten.

And how can he not be?

How can he not imagine how wonderful it would be to spoil someone so kind and compassionate, to reward them for rewarding others? He views himself as hid darling’s protector, and it melts his heart to see his beloved caring for other people, even if it causes these same protective tendencies to flare up when others take advantage of them.

He can’t not imagine how wonderful of a partner his darling would be, the compliments slipping past their lips making his cheeks feel hot and his chest lighter than air. He can’t not imagine how wonderful it would be to wake up beside his darling in the early morning, to feel their soft breaths against him, to have their soft, supple body pressed against his own in ways that make him groan, his own body oh so aware of them? How can he not imagine how kind and loving his darling would be towards their children, a few little copies of the two of them running around, laughing and giggling and calling them mama, Aran being daddy…

It’s the stuff of his deepest hopes for the future, and having a kind darling plays into these fantasies – so while Aran could fall for a meaner darling, it’s unlikely. He wants to protect his sweet baby, and give them the protection, love and devotion they deserve – he’s just rewarding them for everything they earn, after all.

Passionate

Aran’s hobby has been volleyball for as long as he can remember. He’s always loved the sport; playing it, watching it, talking about it, even just being in the gym makes him happy.

And so, a darling that has a similar sort of passion would make Aran’s obsession grow tenfold.

It doesn’t have to be volleyball, or even a sport – any sort of activity that makes his darling happy makes Aran happy. (Arguably even more happy, because watching his darling smile and get lost in their own little world as they practice the hobby has him staring like a lovesick fool, his lips parted and brows tilted in, his throat feeling tight because fuck, how can someone be so damn adorable?)

It could be anything at all – writing, cooking, playing the trumpet, watercolors, reviewing movies, fashion, anything at all. Aran just loves the idea of his darling loving something, and he’ll eagerly ask them about anything he can involving the passion. He's asking what got them into it over dinner, asking to see, hear, taste or watch some of their creations as they give him a tour of their modest apartment.

(He’s watching them nervously show off their hobby, but inside he’s cooing at how adorably embarrassed they are, because no one has ever taken such an intense interest in their passion before, and he can tell they’re nervous that they’re boring him, that he’s losing interest and thinking they’re weird, even though the truth couldn’t be further from it.)

He’s asking his darling to teach him the basics, to learn to sketch a circle or knit a few stitches or play a scale on the piano. He just wants to be involved in his darling’s hobby, mostly because he loves watching the way their eyes light up as they indulge themselves in it, their whole body language brightening up, only furthering his love because fuck, he wants them to look like that one day when Aran himself is on their mind.

He wants to be his darling’s passion one day, just as they are his, but for the meantime he doesn’t mind watching – they’re just so damn cute, after all.

Bookworm

This isn’t something that Aran must have in a partner, but it’s certainly a plus for him.

He’s always been attracted to softer, quieter people, and having a darling fits this mold is a dream come true for him. And to further exemplify the stereotype, Aran particularly likes those are deeply interested in literature.

The genre doesn’t matter – it could be hardcore fantasy books, cliché romances, historical non-fiction, or anything in between. He doesn’t care, just as long as they enjoy picking up a book and curling up under a blanket to read.

He himself isn’t too much of a reader, but he loves to imagine his darling snuggled up on a couch or in a comfortable chair, a book inches from their nose as their eyes eagerly take in the words, flipping through the pages so quickly it’s almost impossible they’re absorbing everything the story has to offer.

He likes to think of his beloved as being so enraptured by the book that they’re completely unaware of the real world around them, fully immersed in the story and becoming invested in the characters, the plot, the action, the everything. It’s just so fucking cute, and Aran has no issues asking about said books.

He doesn’t mind listening to his darling rant and rave about the text for hours on end, watching their face as they talk and talk, slowly opening up more and more as they discuss something they truly love. Speaking of watching, one of Aran’s favorite pastimes is to simply watch his darling read – he likes to see the way their eyebrow wrinkles when a character does something unexpected, the shock in their face as they read a cliffhanger, the way they bite their lip as the tension in the scene rises to almost unbearable levels.

It’s too much, really, because while Aran thinks it’s so very adorable, he has a darker, more perverse reason why he enjoys watching his darling’s face – it’s too easy to imagine the way those expressions could be morphed into something dirty, something lewd.

It’s remarkably easy to fantasize about the way they’d look when he presses inside of them, stretching them out as they tell him it’s too big, not gonna fit! He’s plagued by thoughts about his beloved, and having a bookish, almost nerdy darling would be perfect for him – in more ways than one.

Shy

Aran isn’t too picky with this particular trait either, though he openly admits that he tends to find himself attracted to those that are a bit more hesitant around new people.

Perhaps it’s the protector in him; he doesn’t like the idea of his darling constantly talking to new people, interacting with them and potentially developing feelings for them.

He doesn’t like that they could be chatting with any number of people, interacting with creeps and men with bad intentions that they wouldn’t even know about until it’s too late – it makes his skin crawl just thinking about it, anxiety sweltering in his gut.

And so, to have a darling that’s less inclined to speak to strangers is something Aran really, really likes. It means less worrying about his darling’s safety; why would a person with ill intentions go after someone skittish who won’t give them time a day when they could be going after someone who’s talkative, smiling at them and lowering their guard around them?

Aran couldn’t be happier; not only is it safer for his darling and much more convenient for him, but he loves how easily flustered his darling is. It’s oh so easy to compliment them and see them prickle up, their expression turning bashful as they murmur out a thanks or a compliment or their own, their voice getting all high and cute. It’s adorable, and sometimes it’s too much for Aran – he has to bite back a smile or cover his face, because his heart simply can’t take how fucking cute his darling is.

So really, while he could fall for a more talkative darling, a shier beloved is more his type – he wants to be the only one they talk to, the only who flusters them and makes them feel all gooey and warm inside, just as they make him feel.

It’s only fair his feelings are returned, right?

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

 

Selfless

In general, Aran is absolutely whipped for you.

He’s quite literally head over heels for you – obsessed to the point that nearly all of his waking thoughts revolve around you, and a good portion of his sleeping thoughts as well.

He’s dreaming about you nearly every night, imagining your pretty face in his hands as he kisses you, your voice saying his name, how you’d laugh at his jokes and lean into his side as you watch movies together on the couch, the relaxing night slowly turning into something much more exciting as wandering hands and eager mouths begin to explore.

Aran loves the idea of loving you, and he’s surprisingly naturally quite romantic. He’s always been a bit of a sucker for those horrible romance movies; chick flicks, period pieces, anything with a strong romantic story line in it. He’s always idolized the idea of having someone to love, and as a result, once you step into his life, someone with whom he feels so strongly and passionately for, every cute date idea, romantic line he’s ever seen seems possible, real, important.

Once Aran’s feelings for you develop, he becomes more or less your personal servant. He lives to see you happy – your smile is the most beautiful thing he thinks he’s ever seen, and when it’s directed at him?

God, does it feel good to make a tall, buff, nationally known athlete fall to his knees simply because you looked at him?

Aran would do anything for you if you asked him to; he wants you to associate him with happiness and chivalry, and he’s willing to go to any length to get this association. He’s always trying to do things for you – he’s bringing you your favorite pastries from that bakery nearby the practice courts, telling you to not bother paying him back because ‘you’ll cover next time’, even though he’d rather die than let you pay for something of his.

He’ll always show up at your workplace with a somewhat bashful smile, the little cardboard box in his hands as you gasp and hug him, your smile lighting up your face as he gapes and stares at you like some teenage boy. He’s buying you little trinkets that remind him of you; anything you collect, little plushies that are adorable (just like you).

He’ll pick them up and smile down at them, thinking of how your hair looks like this plush’s, how your cheeks are so cute and round like this one’s, how this one looks almost exactly like you – a character from a TV show that he looks up once he gets home, if only because while the two of you are vastly different, he feels like he’s getting to watch you living out your life.

Fantasies cloud of his mind of living out your day to day with you, of getting to wake up with you in his arms, your messy bed head looking adorable as you snore slightly into his chest. He’s swinging by your place with groceries fairly often, things you didn’t know you needed, only to check and find that you’re much lower on than you thought you were, despite having sworn you checked it yesterday.

Aran doesn’t like to admit that he sometimes tampers with your supplies or basic ingredients just to give him an excuse to buy you something you need – he doesn’t like that it sounds invasive, but seeing your relieved smile and being invited in for a snack or dinner is so worth it. He’s always trying to buy you things, and while it initially made you uncomfortable that he spends so much money on you (and you know the items are expensive – the brand names and quality of the products more than speaks for itself), eventually you’ll stop scolding him for spending his salary almost exclusively on you.

It doesn’t deter him, and he always waves off your complaints, telling you that it’s a pleasure, plus I get to see your smile, so it’s more than worth it. That normally gets you to shut up, your ears feeling hot, only serving to make Aran find you even more adorable than before.

He’s willing to shell out serious amounts of money for anything you’d ever want – a new car? The most expensive one on the market? Of course, and he’ll even get all the fancy additional features that no one needs, like extensive stereo systems and cool gel leather seats.

You want a diamond bracelet costing upwards of thousands of dollars? You’ll find a pretty velvet box on your doorstep the next day, a bouquet of roses accompanying it along with a note that simply says you shine brighter than any diamond.

(He spent hours agonizing over what to write, and despite the corniness, he ultimately decided that maybe classically romantic things would win you over – besides, the words are true.)

Even outside of money, Aran is willing to do anything you’d ever need of him.

Your sink is leaking? He knows next to nothing about plumbing, but he’s quick to pour over dozens of online articles on what could be wrong, arriving at your apartment merely two hours after your frantic call, a toolbox in hand and a determination in his shoulders that you can’t argue with.

You’re struggling with a project for work? Well, Aran may not understand what it is you’re doing, but he’s right beside you as you work through the issue, rubbing your back and smiling at you, encouraging you with smile and compliments each time you make a small breakthrough.

He’ll be there at a moment’s notice, dropping literally everything just to run to your side, like a loyal puppy desperate for its master’s affection and approval.

And of course, Aran doesn’t expect anything in return – he hopes for your love, for you to think of him as your protector and greatest confidant, but he’ll never ask for money or time in return. He’s simply happy to just be of use to you, to feel wanted, needed, like you wouldn’t survive without him.

He’s always slipping into daydreams of ways you’d repay him, how you’d pepper kisses across his cheeks as a thanks for helping change your flat tire. He’s smiling bashfully as he imagines how you’d fuss over him and make him dinner after he’d moved something heavy in your apartment, maybe moving furniture of helping put it all together. He imagines the way you’d sink to your knees and insist on repaying him with pleasure, on making him feel because you make me feel good, too, Aran, and I wanna make you feel so good that all you can remember is my name…

He just wants you to view him as a necessary part of your life, and to see your attention on him and only him for a few moments – anything to get you thinking of him just as much as he thinks of you.

 

Clingy

Tying into his more selfless traits, once Aran’s feelings for you develop, it’ll be extremely difficult to avoid him. He’s never felt this overwhelmingly for someone before, and because you take up so much of his thoughts, he finds it incredibly difficult to not be thinking of you constantly, to be idly wondering what you’re doing, what you’re thinking about, who you’re with, what you’ll be doing next.

He’s obsessive in that he’s almost always got you on his mind, and consequently he finds himself just so ‘happening’ to run into you all the time. He knows the places you frequent – certain cafes or restaurants that you like, learning your orders and preferred drinks. He knows the times you tend to frequent them, suddenly finding that his schedule is – surprise – open during that time too!

He’ll always just be there; his presence isn’t intimidating to you in any way, and as a result it’ll take you quite a while to recognize just how often these ‘coincidences’ seem to happen. It’s nearly daily, with the spiker always feigning surprise that you’re there, because what are the chances?

And once your friendship (relationship, at least to Aran) progresses, slowly he’ll stop trying to make excuses and instead simply reach out to you. You’re getting texts almost every hour from him; questions of whether you’re free, designed to not only get you talking with him, but suggesting activities to do together.

He’ll ask you if you’re free and interested in going to the bookstore with him, because there’s this new series he’s heard about that’s supposed to be so good, and oh, what’s this? It’s the same series you’ve been anxiously waiting to be published? What a coincidence!

He’ll invite you out to get a drink with him and a few of his teammates, but aw what a shame, they can’t make it! They had to cancel at the last minute, but it would be a shame to waste a perfectly good night of drinking, wouldn’t it? So just sit down and let him buy you drink after drink, his face loosening up as time passes, letting some questionable things slip from his lips.

(Slurred words referring to you as his, telling you you’ve been on his mind all day, cheekily complimenting the blue panties he knows you’re wearing under your clothes, all things that seem strange but only make your alcohol infused brain shrug.)

You’re getting texts that are simply asking questions – they’re designed to get a conversation flowing between the two of you, so that your attention is sporadically on him and he can learn more about you. He’s asking you what animal you would be, what superpower you would have, if pineapple belongs on pizza, whether you want children, everything and anything under the sun.

He likes having you speak with him, if only because it makes him feel special, like – if only for a moment – he’s taking up as much of your thoughts as you do his. It’s a thought that makes his cheeks feel hot, his whole body tingling, his muscle tightening up as he stands up to walk and get fresh air because god, why is it so hot in here?

He’s sending you photos of things that reminded him of you throughout the day – a pretty wildflower, an aesthetically pleasing photo of the clouds, gifs of animals with hearts. He likes the way you respond to him so quickly, the three little dots appearing on his screen making his heart pound, nerves eating away at him because what will you say?

He gets simultaneously excited beyond belief and nearly ill every time his phone chimes, your responses making his palms sweat and his heart race because god, you took the time out of your day to respond to him, to give him enough thought to create an answer to his question?

And once you’re actually physically with him, Aran is in seventh heaven – he’s always in your personal space, though it’s difficult to grow mad at him when he’s giving you that shy smile, his words and voice like honey. His hands are always near you as well – he’ll never touch you, because despite how wonderful, euphoric his skin against yours feels, he doesn’t want you to find him creepy or invasive, so he keeps his hands to himself.

His fingers twitch occasionally, the urge to reach out and simply touch your soft skin, squeeze at the fat of your tummy or thighs nearly overwhelming him.

You won’t notice his clinginess much when you’re still unaware of his obsessive feelings towards you – he always seems to be around, but what’s the harm in that? Aran is nice, funny, attractive, a talented volleyball player, and seems to be interested in you, so what could you possibly be upset about?

But once he’s got you in the sanctity of his own apartment, your perspective on his clinginess will change drastically. Now that he’s bitten the bullet and plunged into the process of officially making you his, Aran sees no reason why he should hold back any longer.

Suddenly, he’s always beside you – his hands are on your waist or shoulders, idly playing with your hair or rubbing circles against your skin. You’re always in his lap or within touching distance, his dark eyes fixed on you ninety percent of the time.

He’s always wanting to do things with you; watching TV (often reruns of his games, with him sneaking anxious glances at your reactions each time he spikes a ball, hoping to see you impressed with his strength and skills), cooking together (he does everything involving cutting or heat, so you’re basically resigned to stirring and measuring duty), anything that involves contact between the two of you.

He’s lovesick, truly, and despite being suffocating once he’s got you under his roof, Aran’s not too terrible – he just wants to be with you, and is that such a crime?

Is it a crime to want to touch you, to kiss you and lick you and squeeze you and fuck you and make him your everything, just as you are his?

Protective

In general, Aran views himself as your provider. He likes the idea of being the stereotypical man that protects you from the world, whether that be through financially supporting you, giving you a nice, warm bed to sleep in, or keeping any creeps away from you.

He likes to feel important to you, as if he’s a vital part of your life, and as his obsession develops Aran slowly becomes dependent on this idea of himself being your provider.

He likes to pretend that everything he does affects you in some way – like his every action is for you, designed to keep you safe and make you happy.

When he gets up at the crack of dawn and enters the gym with his teammates for pre-practice working out, he’s fueled by the thought of growing his muscles and stamina so that he can better protect you. With every rep of bench presses, he’s forcing himself to go harder, to push more because in order to intimidate any guy stupid enough to approach you, he needs to look the part of the scary, strong boyfriend. To get any creep to leave you alone when they come wandering too close to you and make you uncomfortable, Aran needs to be able to easily throw them away, to easily pick them up or beat the shit out of them so that they get the fuck away from you, where they belong.

He’s training harder in volleyball practice, slamming the ball with a ferocity that makes the coach and his teammates slightly concerned, but Aran is doing it all for a purpose. The harder he trains, the more impressive his playing, and thus the more impressed you’ll be when you come to the next game he invites you to.

(He almost always invites you to watch his games; he gets you free tickets – they aren’t actually free, he just pays for them and lies saying he got a player discount – and despite how nerve-wracking it is to know you’re in the audience, hopefully watching him, it’s worth it to hear the cheering when he spikes. And if he tries hard enough, he can even pretend to hear your individual cheering out of the masses – chanting his name as loudly as you can, perhaps even your voice yelling I’m so proud of you, good job Aran…)

He’s cleaning himself up more for pre and post match interviews, hoping to look his best in case you’re watching, because he wants you to find him attractive, to think he’s handsome as a thin sheen of sweat lies on his forehead, his biceps nearly bulging out of the volleyball top uniform he’s sporting.

He’s wearing only large hoodies around his home, manifesting the idea that if he keeps wearing them, they’ll retain more of his natural smell, so that when you wear them later it’ll smell like him – you’ll smell like him.

He likes the idea that everything he does affects you in some way, and while it obviously doesn’t, it feeds his view of himself as being your provider, as giving you everything you need in order to be happy in life.

And of course, he takes this mindset into more literal terms with you as well – anytime the two of you are together, he’s employing everything he can think of to keep you safe.

When you’re walking along a sidewalk, he’ll be closer to the traffic, so that if a car happened to swerve off the road, he’d be injured instead of you. He’s holding doors open for you, making sure they don’t slam closed and catch your ankle or elbow.

He’s helping blow on your food to cool it down, because despite what you say it’s still too hot for you to eat, he’s sure.

It’s mildly embarrassing, and while you may think it’s strange how insistent he is on making sure you don’t hurt yourself, you likely won’t fight it too much. After all, if you were to ask him why he seemed to care so much, he’d only blanch and rub the back of his neck awkwardly, telling you that he just wants to help keep you safe. And isn’t that just so romantic and sweet? This big, strong, athletic man caring enough to keep you safe, to use his time and energy to make sure you’re taken care of, that you’re in pristine condition and happy.

It’s only natural to be flattered – who wouldn’t be? Except, once Aran lets his walls down a bit, exposing just how truly obsessed with you he’s become, it suddenly shifts from sweet to creepy very, very quickly.

What started as endearing when he’d walk on the traffic heavy side of the street becomes concerning when you learn he didn’t want anyone in the cars to see you, because what if someone saw you and decided to pursue you, breaking your heart and stringing you along in the process? Besides, wouldn’t it be just so much better if no one else knew you, if Aran was all you had? At least then he’d know you wouldn’t be associating yourself with the wrong sort of people.

What started as a sweet gesture when he’d gotten you the pocket taster to keep in your purse suddenly becomes much more sinister when you discover the tracking device placed into the taser’s side, designed to help him keep tabs on your location discreetly, so that you wouldn’t know.

Once you’re trapped inside his home, every desire, thought, fantasy and urge coming to light, you’ll know that Aran is not nearly the protector he claims to be – at least, in some ways. Of course, he’s largely successful in making sure you don’t get harmed. He won’t let you near anything sharp or hot, always supervising when you’re in the kitchen or supplies that have even the potential to injure you.

He’s always playing guard dog to you, making sure you’re happy and safe, and that nothing and no one can touch you. You’re his, and while it makes him giddy and light headed to think of himself as your protector, don’t think this role is entirely selfless – if you were to be hurt, killed, altered in any way that changed the core of who you are, Aran wouldn’t be able to function.

You just mean too much to him – you’re his life, his love, and he’ll be damned if he’ll let you walk away, scathed or unscathed. You’re just too precious to him, and isn’t that just so damn romantic?

 

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

 

When it comes to dealing with rivals for your affection, Aran is surprisingly good at controlling himself.

He’s not a particularly forceful yandere; in general, he wants you to want him. He wants you to be in a relationship with him because you deem him a worthy partner, because you’re in love with him and want to spend every waking moment by his side.

He doesn’t like the prospect of isolating you – there’s something underhanded and dirty about getting you to be his that way. There’s something cheap about not letting you have any contact with any other men in your life, or women for that matter. He’s not naïve; he understands that you’re gorgeous, that other people are more than likely interested in you too.

And how could they not be? Aran worships the ground you walk on, and is it so strange to assume that other men likely do the same?

He knows that he’s not the only one vying for your attention and heart, but this only furthers his reasoning that he wants you to want him, that he wants you to choose him. And so, while it kills him inside, Aran doesn’t outwardly try to run off his competition. He’s not immediately threatening the men that stare longingly at you, their palms sweaty as they slowly build up the courage to approach you and talk to you. It hurts his heart, yes, and it’s the worst torture he can imagine to watch, but he has to.

It makes every muscle in his body seize up as his dark eyes bore into the back of the man chatting with you, his frame so rigid that passerbys are concerned, even asking him if he’s alright. It makes his lungs feel like they’re being crushed, the breath difficult to suck in, his every bit of attention devoted to simply watching, praying that you don’t fall victim to the man’s charms, that you won’t be wooed by his clearly inadequate attempts at flattering you.

He’ll be mentally chanting that this stranger, this piece of shit, doesn’t deserve someone as lovely as you. They’ll never be able to care for you like he can; no one knows you as well, no one is willing to go to such extreme lengths to make you happy.

He’ll always be watching, if only because he’s always slightly on edge – not even just out of fear that you’ll develop interest in another man, but simply because he’s terrified that you’ll somehow be hurt. He’s scared that you’ll be taken advantage of, that this man will reach out and touch you, that you’ll develop bruises and scream and cry because Aran couldn’t protect you like he’s supposed to.

He’s scared that if he looks away for even one moment, you’ll disappear, gone forever, the love of his life. It’s a horrible feeling, one that claws at his chest and eats at his heart, but Aran almost thinks the torture of watching is worth it. It strengthens his love for you, and with every refusal you give, every awkward smile and lame excuse of why you need to be going, he feels his chest swell with pride.

You want him, he’s sure of it. Why would you be denying so many other men if you weren’t already in love with the spiker himself? It’s obvious, and while it hurts more than anything he’s ever experienced, Aran has to let other men approach you, at least unless they hurt you.

It’s the only way to know for sure that you’re his.

Aran frowns as he notices the way the man behind you in line keeps glancing at you. You’re still waiting to order your sandwich, the line at the deli decidedly long. Aran already had his – you’d claimed you weren’t hungry, and despite Aran’s insistence, you didn’t allow him to buy you any food.

However, as you watched him eat his sandwich, something in your attitude must’ve changed – you should’ve let him wait in line for you, to pay for the sandwich he knows is your favorite, but you didn’t.

He should’ve insisted more, been more forceful, but it’s too late now – most definitely too late as the man behind you puffs up his chest, clearing his throat and telling you something. You jump slightly and turn around to face him, a small smile on your face as you answer whatever question he’d asked you.

Aran’s too far away to hear what you’re saying, but with the way the man laughs, he can’t help tightening his hand into a fist under the table. His blunt nails dig into his palm, surely leaving indents in the calloused skin, but he can’t find it in himself to care. His gaze is fixed on you, his sandwich pathetically forgotten on the deli paper before him. His lips are slightly parted as he watches, murmuring under his breath to ignore him, ignore him please, don’t laugh at his jokes, don’t smile at him, stop touching her…

He doesn’t even realize he’s speaking, but it hardly matters – because despite smiling at his joke, the man doesn’t seem to realize that you aren’t nearly as interested as he thinks, because a moment later he’s reaching out and lightly touching your arm.

You recoil immediately, shrinking back slightly as your smile turns tight, and suddenly the air in the room has returned, Aran heaving a massive, massive sigh because you obviously don’t want him to touch you. You obviously don’t want his filthy hands on you – but you do want Aran’s, if the way you let him touch you is anything. You don’t shy away from his small touches; a hand on your back to guide you, a pat on your head when he calls you short or fun-sized because he knows it annoys you. He bounces his foot against the ground, internally swearing that the line would just hurry the fuck up, so that you can come back and get away from the man who has now fallen quiet, fishing in his wallet for nothing.

You order your sandwich, keeping your back to the stranger, and as you return, the intensity in Aran’s gaze surprises you.

Those dark eyes are fixed directly on you, not wavering even the slightest bit, and a small shiver wracks your spine because fuck, why does his gaze feel so heavy and crushing?

You shrug it off, however, when he smiles at you, the grin so bright that it almost blinds you. There’s something making him indescribably happy, you can tell, but you don’t know what. You make some comment about him not having finished his sandwich yet, but Aran doesn’t pay any attention – he’s too focused on the fact that you didn’t want that man.

You rejected him essentially, and instead chose to come stay with him, with Aran, the only one who really loves you. He’s too lost in his fantasy happy land to return the teases you give him, instead relishing in the the warm, fluttery feeling in his heart, his eyes occasionally darting to the other man to watch him hurriedly walk out of the sandwich shop, sending you a last cursory glance before slamming the door behind him.

Pride swells in Aran’s chest, and once you’ve both finished, he’s quick to place his hand on the small of your back, opening up the door for you. And to his intense happiness, you don’t flinch. You let him touch you, let him guide you, let him care for you and lead you out onto the busy street.

He’s in heaven, and as he smiles like a fool, you won’t suspect a thing. He’s always been so happy, it’s just who he is – his labored breathing and the excited, desperate twitch of his fingers to keep touching you has nothing to do with you, right?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

 

Because many aspects of Aran’s relationship with you are normal, kidnapping you isn’t something that crosses his mind until very, very late into his obsession with you.

He likes the idea of keeping things somewhat natural between the two of you; organic and warm, with nothing too forced. He wants to woo you, to have that perfect romantic courtship where he brings you flowers, making you flustered, takes you on lavish dates by candlelight at the most expensive and exclusive restaurants in town because he can afford it.

He wants you to feel spoiled and loved, and most of all he wants you to choose to be with him. He wants you to want him out of all the other men you know, for you to decide that he’s the one for you just as he knows you are for him.

And so, while the idea of having you knowingly in his home, kept safe, pristine, and his is extremely appealing, Aran struggles to let go of his desire for your willingness in the arrangement.

He can’t deny that having you stuck at home, spending your days safely under lock and key gets him feeling strangely domestic, butterflies igniting in his stomach as he bites back a smile, his cheeks feeling hot. He’s always daydreaming about how you’d look so pretty chopping up vegetables in the kitchen when he gets home, maybe a cute apron around your waist as you hum and sing to yourself, only stopping when he hugs you from behind, letting yourself melt into his arms.

(Of course, he’d never let you actually chop anything alone – too scared of you cutting yourself with the knife, but the fantasy is still appealing.)

He’s fantasizing about you doing the laundry, him coming home to a house that smells like detergent and new sheets on the bed; soft, warm, and oh so pristine.

(Though, they won’t be by the time the night is through – you’ll have to scrub out the new white stains, but that’s nothing new.)

He’s imagining the way you’d lay your head on his chest while you shovel popcorn into your mouth, the wool blanket strewn over the both of you making him feel all warm and fuzzy as you stare intently at the TV screen, the movie he'd chosen capturing your interest perfectly.

He’s got all kinds of domestic fantasies in his head, and Aran is terrified that by kidnapping you, he’s ruining any chance of any and all of these daydreams from becoming real. He’s too attached to the idea of seeing you with his baby on your hip, your pretty face smiling at him while you coo at the child, nursing it and telling him that you were wondering if you could take Friday off, I’ve been feeling awfully lonely around the house, and the baby’s normally asleep for a few hours during the afternoon – maybe we could break in those new sheets we got last month?

He’s too attached to the idea of having a normal, healthy, perfect life with you to really seriously consider forcibly relocating you.

However, Aran is nothing if not practical – and so, while it pains him immensely to do so, if something serious were to happen to you, he’d be left with no choice but to steal you away. It’d have to be something quite significant, however; perhaps an attempted home invasion, or a robbery, or maybe you were hit by a car or contracted some horrible virus that meant you needed care at all hours of the day.

Whatever the reason may be, he’ll be sighing and wringing his hands, but nonetheless gathering the softest rope he can find, setting up pillows in the back of his car so that you’re comfortable on the ride over, even going so far as to keep his face covered during the event, so that he can perhaps fabricate some story of how he was saving you from another robbery – and isn’t he just such a good guy for doing that?

For being so considerate, kind, being your knight in shining armor?

As a captor, Aran can be described mostly as incredibly giving. In a lot of ways, you’ll be terribly, rottenly spoiled; he’s giving you anything and everything he can think of.

When you initially wake up in his home, terrified and changed into a set of clean, soft pajamas (though thankfully your panties and bra are still on, helping relieve your anxiety just slightly), you’ll notice immediately how lavish the bedroom you’re in is.

The walls are a pretty emerald color, mahogany drawers and dressers sitting along the wall. There’s a window – it’s easily six feet tall and six feet wide, with a window seat and big, billowy white curtains, though there’s something odd about the glass – you get up to examine it, only to find it feels brittle, harder, even flexible. (Bulletproof glass, you later learn, placed there in case you got any ideas about braving the twenty story jump.)

All sizes and shapes of pillows adorn the bed, the best quality sheets and a heavy comforter that traps heat so well you’ll nearly be sweating in December. The closet is full of pretty clothing you don’t recognize; all colors you love, neutral pieces that flatter your form and make you feel more expensive than you’ve ever felt in your life.

Aran’s only buying the best quality food, always making sure you have a healthy balance of vegetables, protein and carbs, even occasionally indulging you with exquisite chocolates and pastries. He’s always got music playing in every room of the apartment; quietly, so as not to distract you, but you’ll notice it’s a playlist of your favorite songs. The ones that relax you, that make you smile, that bring back sentimental memories.

He’s got all the supplies for your hobbies set up in ‘your room’, as he likes to call it. Anything from easels and paint brushes to a baby grand piano will reside in the room, and despite your pleas for him to not spend so much money on you, Aran will just laugh and poke your nose lightly, telling you to not worry, that he’s got more than enough money to buy a pretty lady like you pretty things.

He just wants you to be as happy as humanly possible, and while he knows you’ll always be at least a little bit unhappy, he’s hopeful that he can help make it up to you by being the perfect partner – indulging you in all the romantic cliches and dreams you may have had when you were young.

Besides, he’s a romantic at heart, and while it feels maybe just a tad bit overkill to have the rose petals on the table and candlelight as you share a meal he cooked, Aran doesn’t care. Because when you’re wearing the dress he custom ordered for you, your curves looking magnificent and your face so warm and flustered, how can he care about anything at all except this moment?

He spoils you, yes, but you’ll not forget your kidnapped immediately – no, you can’t, not when he’s insisting you share a bed from the beginning. He’ll never try to touch you or force you into anything, but his insistence on letting him cuddle you, on letting him place a hand to your hip while you drift into sleep with your face pressed against his chest is perhaps not your first choice for how to sleep.

But really, aside from a few small quirks of Aran, you’ll find yourself growing disturbingly comfortable disturbingly fast. After all, he’s a charmer – and though you may try to hate him for kidnapping you, for being so horribly, disgustingly, wonderfully obsessed with you, he’s like a puppy.

One desperate for your affection, always bringing you a new bone or toy, and one who’ll do anything for you at a moment’s command. So really, just let him pamper you, let him spoil you, even if it makes you uncomfortable.

It makes him happy, and he’s sure eventually it’ll make you happy, too – and won’t it? Won’t it, really?

PUNISHMENTS:

 

Aran doesn’t ‘do’ punishments.

They just simply aren’t his thing – he wants you to love him, for your relationship to develop as organically as it possibly can (considering he’s kidnapped you and essentially been stalking you for months, of course), and the concept of disciplining you for misbehaving doesn’t fit his hopes for a normal, healthy relationship.

And so, Aran is really quite lenient when it comes to you – he doesn’t get mad very often, instead preferring to keep a steady, calm disposition, because if he wants the best possible chance of you falling in love with him, doesn’t it make more sense to be calm, happy, warm?

Doesn’t it make more sense for him to approach you with loving arms, gentle touches, soft smiles that make your cheeks heat up, that get your stomach feeling fluttery and light because fuck, has anyone ever looked at you with so much adoration and unfiltered joy?

It’s overwhelming, and for the most part Aran’s method of not punishing you works exactly as he wants it to. It’s not long before you’re moving past your hatred of him for ruining your life by stealing it for himself, and while you hope to never forgive him for what he’s done, you’re looking past it remarkably fast.

Too fast, you could even say, though with every compliment he gives you, it becomes harder to find issue with this development. With every hand picked present that you’re sure is much too expensive being given to you with that flustered, wide grin on his face, you’ll slowly find yourself forgetting about the rage you promised yourself you’d never forget.

It’s scary, really, how he’s able to mold you into what you hoped you’d never become – loving, submissive to him, wanting to please him so that the love and care you’ve come to grow addicted to is never cruelly ripped away from you.

It’s terrifying just how easily Aran is able to mold you into his ideal lover; he’s not trying to change you by any means, but after a few months with him, you’ll discover that you don’t fully recognize yourself anymore. He isn’t trying to break you down and rebuild your personality to be exactly what he wants, if only because he already loves you exactly the way you are – why would he change anything?

And yet, despite him not trying to, it’s impossible to ignore the way you’ve never been this happy before.

When you look in the mirror, you’ll find yourself smiling much more than you used to; there’s laugh lines starting to appear on your cheeks, surely formed from all the horrible jokes and sweet nothing Aran whispers in your ear with that dashing smile and those callused, gentle hands caressing your body against him.

You’ll discover that you look healthier than you ever have before – your body looks to be at a good, manageable weight, your hair shiny and healthy, your skin cleaner than you remember it being when you were on your own.

And really, who do you have to blame but Aran?

He’s so diligent in taking care of you, so loving and overwhelmingly giving when it comes to making you happy and healthy that you really can’t ignore the way your body and mind has changed. You feel happy, loved – by your captor, no less.

And so while you may have initially been so, so enraged and terrified of him for stealing you away from your old life, eventually the rage will subside, your love and devotion to him taking its place. Aran couldn’t be happier; this is exactly what he wanted, and seeing the way you morph into greeting him when he returns home from practice with a big hug and a flurry of kisses against his cheeks and lips couldn’t be more appreciated.

He just really, really loves you, but that isn’t to say the beginning of your relationship was more rocky, your behavior and feelings towards him not even a shadow of what they are now.

Even at the beginning, Aran was never one to actually hurt you. He hates the idea of physically touching you in anything other than love or in teasing, and so he absolutely refuses to harm you, to punch or scratch or slap or bruise you.

(You’ll notice early on into your intimate life with him that bruises are left often, but only because Aran needs you as close as physically possible when he’s fucking you, keeping your warm body next to his without an inch of space because god, how can you feel so damn good?)

And so, even when Aran gets mad (which is already a rare occurrence), you’ll never have to worry about being on the receiving end of a swinging fist, or having blood pooling anywhere on your body.

He would die before he harms you in that way – it would break him, truly, to the point where he may actually consider ending his life, but only if yours is taken alongside his as well, so that the both of you can be together in life and death.

And so, when Aran does get mad, he’s not even trying to punish you.

A few things can set him off – the main one being any sort of an escape attempt by you.

He’s livid the first few times you try this; he understands why, rationally, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. You’re trying to escape him, to run away from him, clearly showing you aren’t happy. And why aren’t you happy? Doesn’t he give you everything he possibly can, everything you could possibly want?

What more is there for him to give you – he’s already given you his heart, body and soul?

Sunlight is streaming through the window when Aran wakes up, his lashes fluttering as his face scrunches up into a grimace, the bright light not welcome. He groans, rolling over onto his side and instinctually reaching for you – he always sleeps with you in his arms, your warm body against his. He finds it helps him sleep, and often he’ll wait until you drift into a slumber before he stares at your face, tracing the lines of your lips and cheeks with his thumb while he marvels at how beautiful you are.

Except his hands don’t feel you. His eyes shoot open, and at the empty space where your body should be in the bed, immediately he’s bolting out of bed, scrambling to open the bedroom door. The boxers he’s wearing are haphazardly on his hips, and normally he’d be embarrassed that you see him in such a messy state, but he doesn’t fucking care.

Where are you? You’re never up before him – it’s five o’clock in the morning for Christ’s sake, you’re surely not making breakfast.

He’s quick to check the living room, seeing no sign of you anywhere. The kitchen is next, and while he’s relieved to not find a lifeless you bleeding out on the floor, it does little to calm his anxiety.

It’s only once he reaches the front door that he sees you – you’re on your knees, hands desperately working the bobby pin at the deadbolt’s lock, your movements frantic yet obviously trying to stay silent.

Aran stares for a moment, before his face hardens, his legs bursting forward as he scoops you up into his arms. You yelp and kick at him, telling him to let you go as you thrash, but with your every move Aran only finds himself getting more and more angry.

Soon he’s setting you down on the couch (not nearly as gently as he normally does, you distantly note), before taking a few steps back, his dark eyes fixed on you. He’s rubbing at his temples, clutching at his jaw, shaking his head and murmuring something under his breath that you don’t hear.

You’re mad, too, and your mouth opens as you prepare to accuse him. Why did you stop me? I was so close Aran, so close to getting out of this goddamn apartment!

And that’s it, really – it’s enough to have the extremely thin control over his rage snapping off. Why the hell are you trying to leave? What’s wrong with you?

He’s yelling, his voice so loud that you physically cower back into the couch, the cushions soft but not enough. You’ve never heard him sound like this before; this angry, this hurt. His fists are clenched at his sides, the muscles in his torso and arms visibly flexing as he continues on.

I do everything for you, do you understand? I give you every fucking thing I own – my heart, my money, my home, my love! And you what? You squander it? Throw it away like it means nothing? How ungrateful can you be?

He’s lost himself, he knows it, and yet he can’t stop. The prospect of you running away from him is just too much – he's tried too damn hard to get you to love him, to woo you for you to even think of leaving him behind. How can he survive without you?

He’s still yelling, but you’re not listening anymore. You can’t, not as a stinging, hot sensation in your nose leads to tears, your sniffles and small hiccups going ignored by Aran as he continues on.

It’s euphoric, in a way, expressing himself, but as his dark gaze moves from the ceiling (which he’d been yelling at) and towards you, the words die in his throat. Your hands are at your eyes, wiping away the tears as you sob, the emotions overflowing you. The yelling, the escape attempt, the months of trying to repress the way your desire to leave was slowly dwindling was all just too damn much –

You didn’t even realize it had gone quiet in the room until Aran’s arms are around you, your smaller body pressed against his broad chest. His face is against your neck, and you see his shoulders shaking slightly.

You wonder if he’s crying, too.

It’s silent for a few moments as your tears continue to flow, but you hug him back slowly, whispering in a dry, hiccupy voice that you’re s-sorry Aran, ‘m so sorry, I don’t – I don’t know why I tried to leave, I’m happy here. I wanna stay with you, please let me stay with you, please d-don’t leave me, please!

Your arms are fully around him now, clutching onto him with as much vigor as he you, and Aran stiffens slightly. He shouldn’t have yelled at you; that was uncalled for, and he’d made you fucking cry, something that was making him feeling physically ill. And yet, you were saying you didn’t want him to leave you, that you want to stay with him, that you’re happy…

And sure, maybe it’s a ploy to calm him down, but Aran doesn’t care. How can he, when you’re separating after a few moments, a small, sad smile on his lips as he wipes away your tears with his thumb, his voice much softer as he tells you I’ll never leave you, I promise. Shh, shh, it’s okay, I love you, I’ll never let you go. Now c’mere, I’m makin’ us a bath.

He’s quick to call out of practice that morning, settling you into the large white tub in front of him, your head leaning on his chest as the scent of lavender surrounds you both.

He holds you, letting you get the last few tears out, all the while reminding you that he loves you, you’re perfect, you’re his everything, and how can a man live without his whole world?

OVERALL DANGER:

Overall rating: 4/10

Aran really isn’t so much dangerous as he is effective. He’s not intentionally manipulative – no, of course not.

He doesn’t want to trick you into anything, to lure you into falling in love with him. No, he wants your heart honestly, to have you falling in love with him on your own terms, in your own time, so that when you do eventually make him your world, you’re doing so willingly.

However, Aran isn’t adverse to helping you along the path; he’s spending time with you, complimenting you as often as he can, buying you expensive gifts and taking you out on dates (though, you’re never quite sure if he means them romantically or platonically, and you’re almost too scared to ask), anything he can think of that’ll have you falling for him. He just wants you to enjoy being around him, to crave him like he craves you, to return the level of sick devotion he holds for you.

You’re perfect; genuinely everything he could want in a woman, and while it’s a bit embarrassing how horribly whipped and desperate he is for your attention and validation, Aran slowly begins finding that he doesn’t care.

After all, how can anything else besides your love matter?

How can he find it in himself to care whether he comes off as pathetic when he sends you a bouquet of roses on your birthday, the pretty card he spent hours writing (both to solidify what he wanted to write, and also to practice his cursive so you’d think it’s pretty and worth keeping) describing how beautiful you are, how he’d love nothing more than to hold you, kiss you, mark you up so that no other man could ever take you?

Aran slowly loses himself to his obsession with you, and while he’s not particularly delusional or violent, Aran is dedicated. So much so that it’s almost futile to run from his love – he will eventually have you falling for him, returning his feelings whether you realize it or not.

And he couldn’t be happier; the day you willingly return his hugs, initiate kisses, grind down on him with that tight fucking pussy is the happiest day of his life.

Because it means you want him, and who doesn’t like being wanted? Especially by the woman they’ve spent years pining for, obsessing over, watching and fantasizing about like some lovesick teenage boy?

Not even an upstanding man like Aran would resist that – so congratulations, because once he’s hooked, he’s never, ever letting you go.

#_lee's profiles #_general profiles #_inarizaki #_aran ojiro #yandere haikyuu #yandere aran ojiro #haikyuu x reader

[blissfullyapillow]

hi! hope you're having a good day :) idk if you still write for it but could you do a romantic yosuke hanamura/reader where reader convinces him to watch a scary movie with them? poor boy is scared SHITLESS but tries to put on a cool and brave front, ultimately giving up and cuddling with reader on the couch (maybe a hint of making out too if you feel like it lol)

┃A …Successful(?) Movie Night

₊˚⊹♡Yosuke Hanamura x gn reader

₊˚⊹♡‎wc: 748~

₊˚⊹♡warnings: fluff <33

₊˚⊹♡notes: Yooo Anon I do still write for Yosuke! Thanks for requesting~ Also, your request inspired another Yosuke fic so I thank you for that lol. Check it out here if you’re interested ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

₊˚⊹♡Main Masterlist

“Megan, Scream, or IT?” You ask.

His face contorts into something akin to disgust. “Can’t we watch something not.. horror related?” He begs inquiries. 

“What? You scared?” Your knowing smirk matches the confidence in your tone, since you know Yosuke won’t back down from a challenge.

“No! Let’s watch Scream. That ghost face face dude isn’t all that scary anyway!” Yosuke retorts, with his arms crossed across his chest in defiance.

“Alright then.” You triumphantly do a little cheer before you load up the movie. Yosuke makes his way over to you, sitting beside you on the couch. He doesn’t protest, but his bouncing leg betrays his calm demeanor.

Once the movie is loaded you sit beside him, and he’s quick to close any distance between the two of you. His leg continues to bounce, a bit more frantically now, as the movie begins.

You eye him worriedly, thinking maybe this isn’t the best idea after all. Before you can suggest a different movie his leg suddenly stops bouncing and you feel a weight drape over your shoulder.

You turn your head to see Yosuke’s arm draped across your shoulders, and a goofy smile makes itself apparent on your lips.

Maybe you were worried over nothing? He seems alright now, surely things will be fine.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“Oh my god oh my god no look oUT- AHHH!” Yosuke’s booming shout startles you more than the scene playing before you, and soon both of his arms are draped over you as he practically jumps in your lap.

You can’t help but snicker at the complete 180 this man’s attitude has done. Over the past half hour, he appeared to be unfazed and even enjoying the movie, a small smile on his lips as he watched the movie beside you.

Lo and behold, once the first “scary” moment occurred Yosuke’s facade crumbled to bits.

“Name, this is too much! Did you see the way he brutally- oh mY GOD!” Yosuke buries his face into the crook of your neck as loud shouts can be heard from the TV.

You tear your eyes away from the TV to look at Yosuke. His fluffy hair all but obscures your vision anyway, and a quiet sigh of resignation escapes your lips.

You gaze at his trembling form with the fondness and adoration of a lovesick fool.

You wordlessly change the movie, putting on some random trending show on Netflix instead of continuing the movie.

Yosuke takes awhile to notice, still trembling in your arms, so you wrap said arms around him and rest your head on top of his.

It isn’t long before your movie night transforms into a cuddle session.

Yosuke’s blissful sigh reaches your ears, and his body relaxes. Your fingers gently card through his fluffy head; his hair feels like the soft touch of a cloud against your fingertips.

“You okay now?” You can’t help but tease him. “Oh, shut up.” His grumbled reply only serves to make you smile.

He finally removes his face from your shoulder, and your heart lurches when his eyes immediately search for yours. “Sorry if I ruined our movie night..” Yosuke’s sheepish apology, coupled with his forlorn expression, elicits a coo out of you. 

He’s so cute.

“You didn’t ruin anything Yosuke. Sorry, next time I’ll pick a movie I’m sure we can both enjoy.” His eyes widen in surprise at your thoughtful words. His mouth parts to reply, but your lips capture his before any sound can escape.

He’s startled, yet he wastes no time in returning your sweet kiss. Your eyes close as your fingers find purchase in his soft brown locks. You feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as you share a pleasant kiss.

You pull back, but his lips are on yours once more.

Oh, how you adore the way his lips curl up against yours in a small smile.

You feel pure bliss and tranquility as you bask in Yosuke’s warm embrace. When you two part once again, Yosuke’s lips press against your nose, your cheek, and your forehead before they gravitate towards your mouth yet again.

Your body melts against his, and his arms gingerly cradle you against him. A monet passes before his lips regrettably leave yours, although your lungs thank you for the opportunity to breathe.

“If this is how all of our movie nights will go, we should do this more often.” His cheeky suggestion earns him another kiss to his inviting lips.

#yosuke hanamura x reader #yosuke hanamura x gn reader #yosuke hanamura x you #p4 x reader #p4 x you #p4 x gn reader #persona 4 x reader #persona 4 golden x reader

[mentalrhapsody]

#carnage #cletus kasady #ashley kafka #myart #he adores to play the lovesick fool part #lol

[pinkuberii]

- Novelty pt. II -

Tw: NSFW; Penetration, fingering, nipple play, usage of nicknames such as "sugarplum"

Wc: 1.4k

Summary: Your first time with Diluc and Childe (separately)

Genre: Soft NSFW

A/N: Wooooooo part two!! LIKE I SAID WRITING NSFW AIN'T MY STRONGEST POINT-

Masterlist -> <3

Part I. (Kaeya/Zhongli) -> <3

I. Diluc

Oh, you’re nervous???

Wait until you see Diluc

He’s nervous

You’re nervous

Both of you are nervous <3

Let me elaborate; Poor Diluc has zero experience with this sort of stuff

Like yes he knows a thing or two such as the basics

But making love with someone is something entirely new for him

So, in other words, it’s his first time as well

The type of man that sees this as a big step in your relationship

He trusts and loves you enough that he genuinely wants to make love with you which is actually precious <3

Very hesitant touches at the beginning!!

Would also be silent while trying to figure out what to do :(

hE’S TRYING HIS BEST

“Is this good?” Diluc asked dimly as his trembling hand found its way towards your bare breast, looking up at him you noticed his cheeks being almost the same crimson tint as his hair.

“Yes, ‘luc. It is,” you allayed your lover as you tenderly put your palm on the side of his face, “there’s no need to be so anxious now. I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable, I promise.”

As he let out a sigh of relief you caught his whole body mellow upon your reassurance, the action itself earning a smile from you.

Expresses himself mostly through gazes and looks <3

If you look very carefully you can see a faint smile on his face upon the breathtaking sight before him

Also a sweetheart who fingers you first before penetration

Oh god he LOVES to kiss you during your whole session

And when you clench tightly around his fingers??? A blushing mess, never expected to enjoy it that much <3

He just adores every single thing you do, mans is absolutely sMITTEN

“Feels good,” you let the honest words roll past your tongue as you felt Diluc’s fingertips on top of your vulva, deliberately you spread your legs open for him for more space, the spot itself quickly becoming wet.

“Glad to hear,” he murmured a response whilst his other hand was occupied with massaging your breast, letting his thumb play with your perked up nipple as he began to get aroused upon listening to your faint cries of satisfaction. Tardily, you eyed his hand going upward off base from your chest to your burning cheek.

Before you knew it his lips collided with yours <3

And at the same time he also found a way to slide two of his fingers inside of you

Distracting you from the pain with the help of smooches>>>

“I’m sorry—” he whispered an apology between the sensual kiss you two were sharing, “I wanted to distract you from the possible pain. Did I hurt you too much?”

Well, y/n wouldn’t have moaned between the kiss if it hurt-

“No, no… I’m fine,” you soothed him with a gentle smile, “I didn’t feel any pain, boo.”

Once he begins to thrust them in and out it’s over <3

But the cute thing is that he fingers you while kissing

So so soooo aroused when you struggle to kiss him back because of your cries of pleasure

Subtly accelerates his pace because of it

Whimpers and moans deserted your plump lips each time the crimson-eyed male pushed his digits deep inside of you, your struggle to kiss him back only causing him to smile in amusement. “Would you like me to slow down?”

“No- Mm…~” you protested almost immediately, “don’t slow down, please- Ah…~”

“Do I make you feel good?” he questioned.

Between your pants you managed to mutter a reply, “Yes- Diluc- Hm…~ You do—”

At your response he couldn’t help but smile like a lovesick fool.

His face is as red as his hair at this very moment, yet he adores the sight so so much :(

As you let his tongue twist slowly with yours, a sudden sensation formed itself between your legs. Knowing what time it was, you silently muttered “I’m close” amid his lips. With that in mind he began to rub your vulva in a quick manner, the act itself causing you to feel many pleasuring sensations at once.

And not even a minute later the wave of satisfaction between your legs had finally crashed rather frantically <3

Be ready to get bombarded with questions and I love you’s after

Diluc’s your first and you’re Diluc’s first,, wooo cuties <3

II. Childe

;)

Yes this is a headcanon, no I will not elaborate 🚶‍♂️

SHOWERS you in praises and nicknames 😩

Which leaves you quite flustered

And that cute expression once you’re flustered because of his words???

*chef kiss* it’s his weakness 🤌✨

Also a man that has quite the experience… or well… vaguely knows what to do…

He’s a very occupied harbinger so I’m not entirely sure if he ever had much time on his hands for an intimate relationship

But hey, look at him now, standing on top of his partner whilst wearing nothing but an unbuttoned red shirt

This all started with a small make-out session which escalated drastically before the both of you realized

Oh wow lucky you ;)

He has some sightly abs I’m tELLING YOU-

Excitedly, you eyed the last bit of fabric that was leisurely leaving your body, both of your dull pants filling the previous silence of the room you two were in.

“My theory has been confirmed, sugarplum,” Childe spoke rather teasingly as he put your panties aside, “you truly do have the most kissable lips in all of Teyvat. Now let me take care of that little problem down there,” he paused to catch a glimpse of your expression, “if you allow me to, of course~”

A soft ‘ah’ was mumbled between your breath shortly before giving him the consent he was asking for, “Go ahead. I’m all yours.” You smiled.

Those fingers would do some heavenly stuff down there-

It’s just some rubbing and playing but the butterflies in your stomach because of it??? Damn

Serene whimpers of pleasure already reached his ears as he couldn’t help but smirk upon them, your sweet voice quickly causing something between his legs to arise.

“Even your whimpers of delight sound like music to my ears,” he chuckled.

LOVES your moans <3

After a while of doing nothing but let his fingers dance on your puffy clit he decided to take it a step further.

“Now, y/n… Let’s make this a bit more enjoyable, shall we~?”

Oooooo boy it’s time

Would be so gentle and slow during the whole thing!!

Because let’s be honest… his dick… is definitely on the larger side…

And when you clench tightly around him because of the size difference??

Congrats, he’s going agjjssdshkaajks internally <3

Would also grab your hand to give some comforting squeezes

“I’ll be doing this slowly, so there’s no need to be scared or worried,” he uttered “just be relaxed and if you’d like me to stop then don’t hesitate to say it.”

You nodded placidly upon his words as a smile found its way towards your lips, “I will.”

Without letting you wait too much he slid his tip inside of your wet clit, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze with every inch he thrusts it in, “and…? How does it feel?~” he inquired as soon as he was halfway in.

“Weird,” you answered “b-but weird in a positive way.”

“Alright, as long as you don’t feel pain then that’s good. I promise that it’ll feel quite good soon, sweetheart,” Childe bantered.

Was he right? Yes, he really was

Very slow and careful during your first round!!

Yes, “first”

There are more rounds on their way, y/n

With each thrust he gave you could sense the fuzzy feeling in your core building up, hastily you tightened your grip around Childe’s shoulders, your pretty nails digging in his skin out of nothing but stimulation and pleasure.

“Coming?”

“Yes- Ah…~” you moaned.

Has the biggest shit-eating grin at the moment

Very amazed upon the fact how well you can take him in, especially because it’s your first time <3

He’ll let you know, as if you weren’t hot and bothered because of him already :(

Suddenly, with one rough thrust, you felt your mind go blank upon the unprecedented sensation it caused. Looking down, you spotted what a mess you two had caused down there.

The type of man that immediately sticks to you after reaching your climax

Can’t help it though, he loves you :(

“You took me in so well…~” Childe uttered as he planted his lips against your neck to mark you there, his smooth voice vibrating against your skin whilst your heart was beating frantically.

“Are you ready for a second round?”

Oh boy- good luck 👉👈

#esu writes—📝 #genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc genshin #diluc genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #genshin diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr #childe x reader #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #tartaglia #genshin tartagalia #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact tartaglia

[let-them-read-fics]

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot. 

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best. 

A bonafide, absolute idiot. 

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out. 

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning. 

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time. 

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight. 

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word. 

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession. 

There's no way you think this one looks bad. 

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck. 

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features. 

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too." 

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter. 

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all." 

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier. 

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday. 

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool. 

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend. 

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door. 

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh. 

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week. 

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…" 

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees. 

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling." 

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests. 

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways. 

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies. 

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair. 

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks. 

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again. 

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this. 

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you. 

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here." 

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before. 

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile. 

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side. 

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes. 

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?" 

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down. 

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing. 

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away. 

But alas, she doesn't. 

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight. 

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes. 

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see." 

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality. 

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner. 

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying." 

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you. 

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation. 

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people. 

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks. 

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party." 

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?" 

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one." 

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?" 

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me." 

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip. 

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!" 

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks. 

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter. 

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me." 

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer. 

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets. 

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else. 

You can get your own revenge. 

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them. 

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you. 

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion. 

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away. 

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes. 

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later. 

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen. 

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers. 

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her. 

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall. 

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge. 

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun. 

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are. 

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover. 

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path. 

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up. 

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you. 

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you. 

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be. 

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers. 

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!" 

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting. 

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now. 

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath. 

"What's wrong?" 

There's that voice again. 

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it. 

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me." 

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like." 

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches. 

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas. 

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads. 

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little. 

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled. 

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters. 

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs. 

When did that happen? 

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you. 

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you. 

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment. 

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy. 

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her. 

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against. 

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time. 

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now. 

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly. 

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to. 

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out. 

"I'm Lisa." 

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease. 

"Likewise, beautiful." 

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced. 

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips. 

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing. 

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again." 

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire. 

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes. 

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise. 

"That sounds wonderful." 

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever. 

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close. 

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed. 

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off. 

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up. 

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors. 

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof. 

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you. 

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over. 

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself. 

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away. 

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window. 

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now. 

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building. 

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations. 

She does a twirl, looking around. 

"It's gorgeous." 

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up. 

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out. 

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms. 

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her. 

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months." 

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself. 

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking. 

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains. 

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters. 

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh. 

"Maybe, but it's the truth." 

"Sure, Lisa." 

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms. 

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace. 

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song. 

Turning Page, you recognize it as.  

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites. 

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too." 

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud… 

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it. 

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you. 

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is. 

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush" 

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly. 

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you. 

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second. 

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss. 

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping. 

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up. 

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck. 

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late. 

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey. 

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too. 

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her. 

"Please…" 

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more. 

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go. 

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there. 

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before. 

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there. 

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask. 

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

#lisa #lisa manoban x reader #lalisa #lalisa manoban #lalisa manoban x fem reader #blackpink #blackpink imagines #kpop imagines #Kpop girl group #vampire au #blackpink au #blackpink vampire #vampire lisa #fluff #soulmate au #soulmate #blackpink oneshots #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fluff #blackpink fanfic #blackpink x reader #jennie kim #kim jisoo #park chaeyoung #meet cute #let-them-read-fics #lisa manoban x fem reader

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

XIII.

(Part 3/3)

He hurried to his seat only grabbing a glass of champagne before he disappeared behind the curtains to the VIP area. Satoru was certain Suguru would be here to see you and he wanted to avoid confrontations.

Once in the privacy of his balcony he sat down and sighed, he was nervous. It wasn’t like you were going to see him and yet his heart wouldn’t stop beating erratically thinking about the fact he would be so close to you and watch you do what you love the most.

Finally after almost half an hour everyone was seated and the curtains were lifted. The story unfolded before his eyes. He has seen this piece before, you performed as Clara back in Tokyo but in this occasion you were the alluring Sugar Plum, even the part fitted your sweet personality. When you finally appeared on the stage he moved closer to the edge of the balcony, his heart melted once more and he was reminded of how absolutely gorgeous you were. He was… enamored with you once more. Your grace, precision and artistry was remarkable. You had gotten so much better since the last time he watched you perform. Satoru was speechless as you executed a sequence of pirouettes en chaîne. Followed by a pas de chat. The whole scene was spectacular.

By the end of the performance he was standing up, clapping with a huge smile across his lips. You had been perfect. He was proud of how far you have come. Regardless of how you felt about Satoru he had come to terms with the fact he would always love you and would always support your dreams. You deserved the world, even if it wasn’t by his side.

Gojo wanted to go to you and talk to you but it would not be a good idea. More than anything he was scared thinking about how you would look at him. What if the next time both met you didn’t feel anything for him anymore. Satoru wouldn’t be able to stand it if he saw it in your beautiful e/c eyes.

Sighing he grabbed the single red rose he brought in with him and warped to your changing room before the dancers came back. There was a sign with the name Ekaterina Petrova on the first door down the hall backstage. He entered it and immediately was welcomed by your smell. Costumes hanging in an open closet. Your bag, regular clothes, ballet shoes and a vanity filled with make up and hair styling tools. Swallowing hard he walked to the vanity and settled the red rose for you but before he left he couldn’t help but steal the red scarf hanging on the back rest of the rolling chair in front of the mirror.

He warped back to the balcony where he sat down and buried his face on your scarf. Your scent could not compare to the perfume he used back home on his bed. You smell was a mix of your perfume of roses but there was also hints of honey, and something else… something sweet that was part of your person. Making your aroma impossible to emulate.

Stroking the fabric he thought longingly about you. He needed to see you, just once more… once more, he promised himself and then he would leave you be. Just… one more time.

He warped to the rooftop of the building next to yours and waited for you to get home. You got out of a cab alone and then walked in. You were alone. How strange, wasn’t Suguru with you this evening? Or was he waiting at home for you? But he lights in your apartment were all out. Removing his sunglasses he couldn’t perceive the raven haired sorcerer’s energy. He wasn’t home, maybe he was away in a mission.

A part of his mind screamed it was the PERFECT opportunity to see you! There was no Suguru around to interfere this time. Satoru groaned, he promised he would leave you alone and wouldn’t try to bother you but… it was so hard, having you so close and yet so far. Would you be mad at him if he showed up at your door? Would you kick him out in the cold?

Biting his lower lip he decided just to watch you for now. Staying away was not without effort but he tried his best.

Gojo watched you go through regular routine, you went for a shower and after that you walked out with your wet hair and a set of flannel pajamas into the kitchen where you poured a glass of red wine for yourself. Once more you disappeared down the corridor and he was sad to think maybe you went to bed and wouldn’t be able to see you again but you showed up on the roof top of your building. Leaning on the edge you sighed « Happy Birthday Satoru » he heard you whisper to the wind and only then Gojo realized today was his birthday… you still remembered. You still thought about him!

Fuck it!

He warped behind you, watching you from a few feet away, he didn’t want to startle you when you were so close to the edge of a very tall building so he waited for you to turn around. When you did your eyes opened wide and your glass slipped your fingers. He caught it with his infinity preventing it from spilling and breaking in a million pieces.

Panic washed over your features and before you could run Satoru stepped in front of you not touching you but still trying to prevent you from leaving « please, don’t run away from me… y/n, I’m not here to hurt you… I just… wanted to see you. Nothing else, I promise » his tender tone and kind eyes told you he was honest « wh.. why are you here? » you asked trying to control yourself. But he could almost heart your heart racing while you looked at him “ I came to see your performance tonight…” he confessed his little secret “you were absolutely spectacular Y/N! I don’t think I have ever seen you dance like that… it was… beautiful” he added with a little smile “th… thank you” you answered with a blush.

-

What the fuck! Oh my god! What is he doing here!? Your thoughts raced through you mind a thousand miles per second.

As much as you convinced yourself you were over your ex husband you couldn’t help the reaction of your body. There was still a big part of you that instinctually reacted to his presence. You were actually excited to see him.

“How… have you been?” He asked you “I’m… alright, I’ve been….fine” you admitted “how about you?” Could this be the first steps you took to heal? Maybe trying to be civil instead of running away from him “I… uh… not as well as you” he admitted with a boyish and bashful grin taking a hand behind his neck scratching it. “You know… same old, same old” of course if you considered the fact he lived in misery, thinking about you all the time and missing you in his life like a lovesick fool. Yeah, same old. Same story since you left.

“I… uh… good, it’s good to know you are alright” you added awkwardly. How was one supposed to treat a person who was everything in your life once but now was not even part of it. There was something utterly bizarre about acting so detached with a man who had seen, touched and fucked every inch of your body for about 6 years of your life! And now you both played your part as polite acquaintances.

“Where is Suguru?” The curiosity was killing him “He had a mission in Portland, he had to leave for a couple of days” you answered honestly “I see…” Satoru didn’t want to cut his time with you but his brain wasn’t cooperating, he needed an excuse… anything to just spend some more time with you before you kicked him out again. Fuck! God! Anything! Please! He didn’t want to leave you, not yet… just a little longer. But he didn’t know what to do or say to buy himself more time.

“S… Satoru… would you like to come in for a glass of wine?” You asked shyly. It was his birthday after all. He could have been anywhere in the world he wanted in this day. Hell! He could have been partying the night away in a club in Tokyo, instead he was here. He came to watch you dance… half way across the world.

“YES!” He replied too enthusiastically “I… I mean yeah, thank you I would like that” if he was a dog he would be wagging his tail by now. He followed you inside and took a seat next to you at the kitchen table after you poured him a glass “I know you don’t really like wine because it’s too bitter but I don’t have champagne” you offered a little apologetic smile “don’t worry about that! It’s alright… I can enjoy a glass of wine here and there” he replied taking a sip with a smile. He couldn’t believe you actually invited him in, he must have died and gone to heaven!

“Happy birthday…” you say softly looking into his beautiful cerulean eyes. Satoru smiled tenderly at you and looked at you with absolute adoration “thank you….” There was no other place in the world he would rather be right now, no other person he would rather see. This place and this moment meant everything to him.

The intensity of his gaze made you blush and look away. “I… have some red velvet cupcakes… would you like one?” Gojo nodded enthusiastically “I would love one” he watched you stand up and walk to to the fridge where you pulled out a plastic container with cupcakes. You placed it on the table and offered him one. He took it from your hands making sure his fingers touched yours in the exchange. Pure thrill electrified his body when he felt the warmth of your fingers on his skin. You looked into his eyes, he knew you felt it too but the moment was broken when you pulled your hand back and hurried to sit back across from him. “Thank you…” he took a bite of his desert and moaned in delight. He recognised the flavour of your recipe. You baked those yourself. “This is amazing Y/N” he praised your cooking with a delighted moan as he finished his cupcake and then went for another. You chuckled, some things never change. Satoru’s sweet tooth was the same as it had always been.

“Thank you… I tried a couple different ingredients this time” you confess making the white haired sorcerer swoon “it’s fantastic” you were fantastic. God! He had missed you so much! Fuck… seeing you so close, breathing you in, having you at his reach was killing him. He wanted to close the distance and wrap you in his arms.

A sudden movement from the corner of his eye alerted him of something climbing on his lap. He almost jumped out of his skin before he made sense of what it was. A little meow told him a feline had decided to make him his seat “and who is this?” Satoru asked petting the chubby and cute tabby cat that was now making itself comfortable on his lap “oh! Sorry about that! That’s Kiky,” he smiled and looked at the cat who was now purring “don’t worry… you know I love cats” he added chuckling, the gesture made your heart warm. “she usually is not this nice to anyone other than me…” your little kitten was even a little wary of Suguru. Geto explained it was because of his technique, he had too much chaotic cursed energy contained within him out of consuming curses which in exchange made cats not like him. Satoru on the other hand had a more stable flux of cursed energy that was an inherent part of himself which in exchange attracted felines to him.

“Well I am glad Kiky approves of me” at least someone in your household did! That was progress… right?

After that you both talked about cats while Kiky slept on Satoru’s lap, he kept letting the animal while your conversation went well into the night. It was as if an unspoken truce have been settled between the both of you. Talking about your career and his missions, a little bit about movies and shows you both watched, connecting in an innocent way.

“It’s getting late…” you said looking at your phone which read 2:33am “y… yeah, I should probably go back to the hotel and let you rest…” he said in a deflated tone. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he had to give you your space. “Thank you for the wine and the cupcakes” Satoru said while carefully moving the sleeping Kiky to the couch “of course… you are welcome” you said walking to the door with him. Satoru stopped and turned around to look at you. He wanted to close the distance between you both and kiss you with all his might. He couldn’t do that, he had to respect you. But he couldn’t help himself when he pulled you in for a hug. You were frozen for a minute before you replied wrapping you arms softly around his waist. “Thank you Y/N” you heard him say “Happy Birthday” you whispered once more before the sorcerer pulled back reluctantly “thank you” it was the best way he could have celebrated this date. With you.

By the time he got back to the hotel he went to bed with a huge smile on his face. Best birthday present ever, he got to spend it with you.

———> Chapter 14

Tags: @sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@okkotsuoasis

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

@janenks

#gojo x you #jjk #gojo saturo x reader #jjkgojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader #yandere Joseph #yandere josuke #yandere Kira yoshikage #kira yoshikage #josuke higashitaka #yandere x y/n #yandere imagine #yandere x reader #yandere mista #guido mista #yandere Joseph Jostar

[notanotherockstar]

 ‘The Whole World Is a Stage’

(Headcannons of dating Neil Perry)

Warnings: slight smut ig, dps spoilers, Knox Overstreet’s endless pursuit of Chris Noel, Neil being absolutely adorable.

You met Neil when he came to audition for the part of ‘Puck’ in a Midsummer Nights Dream.

You had joined the production to help with the sets, props, costumes, etc. and were just about to leave when you see him recite his lines for the audition.

To say that you were instantly enamoured would be putting it lightly.

You introduce yourself to Neil just as he’s about to leave and compliment him on his acting skills.

And the boy is a stuttering fool when you do so because, going to an all boys school and having incredibly strict parents, he’s not used to interacting with girls let alone having very pretty girls come up to him and tell him that his acting is good.

He thanks you but tells you that he isn’t sure if he’ll get the part since it’s his first time acting professionally— unless the silly little plays he used to put up for his parents in his living room when he was a child count.

You laugh at first, thinking he’s joking.

But then you notice the ‘shit did I say something wrong’ expression on his face and you understand that he is not only very serious but also very nervous.

So, you assure him, telling him that, “I was there for all the auditions and yours was by far the best. They would have to be idiots to not cast you.”

Neil is blushing like crazy at the compliment.

He’s blushing even harder when you ask him if he wants to grab a cup of coffee or something from the diner nearby.

He wants to say yes but then remembers that he needs to be back at Welton before dinner so that no one realises that he’s been gone.

“It’s alright,” you tell him, “I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other— I’m working on the set and all of that stuff.”

This marks the beginning of a short yet lovely relationship.

You’re the first one he comes to when he finds out he’s got the part of Puck.

That’s when you two go out on your first date.

It’s nothing much just the two of you and a little picnic by the river with food you stole from your kitchen.

You two stay there still twilight when Neil realises that he needs to head back to school.

Neil helps you clean up because he’s a gentleman.

Just before he can leave you pull him into a kiss that leaves Neil weak in his knees and his cheeks brining red.

“See you tomorrow then?” You ask.

“Y-yeah, yeah.” He stutters and nodds making you giggle.

When he reaches Welton he’s completely lovesick.

The rest of the dead poets boys groan because having to deal with a lovesick Knox was bad enough but now they had to deal with a lovesick Neil too.

He tells them all about you.

He talks about you so much it’s kinda annoying.

Todd has to cover his ears with his pillow in the night for two reasons:

To block out Neil’s chatter about you before they can go to sleep, and;

To block out Neil’s moaning in the middle of the night that wakes him up no matter how deep his sleep is.

Needless to say that after all the talk the boys are very eager to meet you.

But Neil doesn’t want to introduce you to the boys, mostly because he’s afraid you’ll end up preferring Charlie or Knox over him.

So he refuses to bring you along to any of the Dead Poets Society meetings, no matter how much they insist.

Sick and tired of all the secrecy one day the boys decide sneak out to Henly Hall while Neil was at rehearsals.

They ask around backstage till they’re directed to you where you were painting a backdrop.

They introduce themselves as Neil’s friends and you surprise them by very accurately guessing who’s who since Neil had told you a lot about them too.

You and the boys hit it off right away.

Joking around with Charlie, Meeks and Pitts.

Discussing literature and art with Todd.

Discussing your friend, Chris with Knox which ends up with the you agreeing to become his wingman and talk him up to Chris since you’re not a fan of her current boyfriend.

Cameron isn’t there because he’s afraid he’ll get into trouble if the teachers find out they snuck out— not that anyone minds.

When Neil visits you after rehearsal he feel like he’s going to faint at the sight of you, Charlie, Todd, Knox, Pitts and Meeks covered in paint and laughing your asses off.

You immediately run over to Neil and kiss him, trying your hardest not to get paint all over his clothes before scolding him to not introducing you to his friends earlier.

There’s a very awkward chuckle from Neil which is followed by, “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

Charlie is stopped from making a sex joke by Knox placing his hand over the boys mouth.

That is followed by the boys informing Neil that you’ll be attending the next Dead Poets Society meeting.

Neil is speechless— on one hand he’s happy that you’re getting along so well with his closest friends, but on the other hand he wishes he had more time with you to himself before you could meet them.

Anyways, a few nights later, Neil shows up at your house around midnight and takes you to the cave where the Poets meet.

You’re excited to see them all, of course, especially Todd because he’s adorable and just needs to be hugged.

Neil starts the meeting by reciting Thoreau. 

True to mr. Keating’s words you do very much swoon as you watch him recite the verse. 

Joking around with the Dead Poets as you all take turns to recite poetry from the book Keating gave Neil. 

Flirting endlessly with Charlie throughout the night.

Cue jealous Neil.

And you don’t even notice.

You’re too busy giggling as Charlie as he plays endless melodies on his saxophone. 

Now, I kinda imagine Neil as getting all upset when he gets jealous

Because, let’s be honest, with parents like his own there is absolutely no way he doesn’t have self esteem issues. 

So, anyways, you’re babbling on about how great the night was when you notice Neil kinda looking at the floor like a puppy who has been kicked. 

You ask him whats wrong but he shrugs it off, requesting you to go on about your time with the rest of the Dead Poets.

You don’t back off however, insisting that Neil tells you what’s bothering you.

So, he spills the beans.

He’s surprised to find you laughing once he’s done. 

“Neil, Charlie’s fun but we’re only friends,” you tell him when he asks you why you’re laughing. “I love you. And only you. Besides, I’m pretty sure I cannot be around Charlie for more than an hour without throwing up- he wears way too much cologne for his own good.” 

Soon Neil’s laughing too.

The two of you are just laughing and giggling and messing around with each other till you reach your house. 

You two stare at each other for a few seconds- neither of you actually wanting this night to end.

So you invite Neil inside. 

“Aren’t your parents asleep?” Neil asks, completely oblivious to your ulterior motives. 

“Yup.” 

It takes Neil a few seconds but once he does you’re dragging him inside for, in the words of one brilliant miss Amy Santiago, “a cray-cray night of funky fun.”

Neil’s gone when you wake up the next morning leaving behind nothing except the smell of his cologne and a note telling you that he loves you too and that he’ll see you in the evening for rehearsal. 

It’s pure bliss from there on.

Sneaking kisses before he has to go on stage.

Picnic dates.

Movie and museum dates.

Library dates.

Sex every free moment you two got.

And by the time the day of the performance came around everyone knew about Neil and you.

Most of them *cough cough* your parents *cough cough* thought you were adorable.

The others *cough cough* the director, the cast and crew of the play *cough cough* just wished the two of you would stop making out and being all lovey dovey everywhere.

You give Neil a good luck kiss on the lips before he could go out on stage and promise that you will watch from the wings.

And you do. You watch and you cheer louder than the Dead Poets in the audience.

You leap into Neil’s arms once the play is finished, kissing him all over his face while he giggles.

“You were so good,” you tell him. “You were so, so good!”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Neil asked with a wide grin spread across his face. “I was really, really good!”

You’re about to say something when a teacher comes up to Neil and tells him that his father is looking for him.

“Everything okay?” You ask him as you watch his expression fall at the mention of his father.

“Yeah,” he nods and places his hand on yours before pushing it off his cheek. Neil bent forward and placed one last, soft kiss against your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you tell him and watch him walk away.

You stand completely still for a few minutes before deciding to follow Neil.

You walk out of the theatre just in time to see Neil being forced into a car by a man you presumed to be his father and the car then drive away into the darkness.

You ask Charlie what just happened with Neil but he seems to be more or less as clueless as you are.

So, you end up going back home, the worst thoughts about what could have happened to Neil popping into your head when you try to go to sleep.

Then the next day, just when you’re about to leave for school your mother tells you that there’s a call for you.

You immediately rush over hoping it’s Neil.

Thankfully, it is.

He tells you that he his father pulled him out of Welton and enrolled him into military school.

You’re crying, of course, weeping happy tears because you’re just so happy that’s he’s well and alright.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack you know that?” You tell him amidst tears as you run your hand through your (y/h/c) locks.

“(Y/N) I—“ Neil’s cut off by the sound of his father yelling in the background. “I’ll call you back later.”

“You better,” you sniffle and wipe your tears against the sleeve of your shirt. “Neil?”

“(Y/N)?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#dead poets society #Neil Perry #Dead Poets Society x reader #Neil Perry x reader #dead poets society imagines #Neil Perry imagines

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Coffee Cups and Morning Promises // Bucky Barnes

Request: Hey queen!! Since Sebastian has been looking like such a snack in the falcon and the winter soldier, I’m not sure if your marvel requests are open but can I request something fluffy with Bucky? - @whovianwholikesgirls

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I’m sorry it isn't longer, I’m still getting used to Bucky’s character! Anyway, I hope I have done your request justice and I hope you all like! The song that inspired part of this is Bruno Major - Old Fashioned.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, mentions of coffee.

Word count: 1.1k

The radio plays softly in the background as you potter around the small kitchen in your flat. A routine that was never interrupted; these moments in your home were precious – the hubbub of the day ahead wasn’t too far away, already beginning to press in, but this time in your kitchen was yours to take time with.

Humming along to the melody, you replace the coffee beans in your machine, throwing the used beans in the bin. The bitter scent of the coffee perfumes the space; the sharpness helping you wake without a sip of the acrid drink.

Your routines continues as you dance your way to the fridge; far from an expert, but happy to meet the melody as best you can as you pull out punnets of fresh fruit.

At this point in the morning, the sun has mostly risen, its rays already bouncing off the countless panes of glass in the city that never sleeps. Placing a punnet of blueberries on the table, you smile in hope that the sun would hold for the day. There was nothing better than the city you so adored bathed in warmth and light; rain brought with it misery and increased rudeness. At least with the sun, there was a better chance that the rest of your day would be met with better moods all round.

The smell of coffee in your flat is much stronger now, and you know that it wouldn’t be long until you were no longer alone in your kitchen. A lovesick smile spreads across your features as you think of the man currently asleep in your bed. A surprise on both ends, but a welcome surprise nonetheless when Bucky had kissed you at your door and you had pulled him into your home by the hem of his Henley.

A lovesick fool, you suppose you are. A lovesick fool for a man just as in love as you.

The fresh pot of coffee is half full now; the fruit is laid out on the table, and the radio continues to play love songs. There was only one thing left to do.

The coffee mugs sit in the cupboard to the left of the fridge, just above the coffee machine. A wiser person would have settled the mugs on the lower shelf of the cupboard, but when your parents had helped you move into the flat, your father had placed the mugs on a higher shelf and that was where they stayed despite the need to stretch to reach them.

There wasn’t an abundance of mugs in the cupboard; four or five at most, but only two were used often. These two were placed at the front; always within reach, and never given to anyone else. The first of the two mugs was yours; a simple white mug with an elegant botanical pattern stretching around it. After months of use, it fit to your hand perfectly. The second of the mugs wasn’t anything special, but it was his. Bucky had laid claim to it on his first morning in your flat, choosing the navy blue mug decorated with constellations so rarely seen in New York.

You’ve just finished pouring the coffee when your hear his gravelly voice from the doorway. “How long have you been up?”

“Not too long,” You answer, turning to greet him with a wide smile and his navy blue mug.

Bucky takes his drink, taking that all important first sip of the day knowing that it would set him up for whatever he needed to face. It brings him back to life; warms him from the inside out as the acrid taste wakes him, greeting him like an old friend.

Wordlessly, he reaches for you, an arm wrapping around your waist as you melt into his strong, warm embrace. You hum happily at the feel of him, leaning further into him as you sip at your own coffee, taking care not to burn your tongue.

In the comfortable silence of the flat, Bucky presses his first kiss of the day to your head. Sighing in content, Bucky breaks the silence with two whispered words: “Good morning.”

Tilting your head up, you press a kiss to Bucky’s jawline. “Good morning.”

Bucky squeezes your waist once before stepping away, taking another drink of his coffee as he turns his attention to the food laid out on the table. “That’s a lot of fruit.”

You snort, rolling your eyes at the man, “I was waiting for you to wake up so you could decide. Pancakes or waffles?”

“Pancakes… Always pancakes.”

Unable to help yourself, you smile at the man standing so close to you that you can feel the heat roll off him in waves. It was hard to keep your smiles at bay with Bucky; he drew them out of you so often.

“Keep smiling at me like that,” Bucky comments, forgetting any and all conversation over breakfast foods. He couldn’t focus on something like that, not when you smiled at him as if he had forged the world for you and you alone. Bucky wasn’t one to ignore the truth; he’d been through hell and somehow survived, but then and there, Bucky knew he would do it all again if it meant he got to be on the receiving end of your smiles.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” Bucky states, poking your cheek.

The smile grows wider; happiness flooding your veins, making you almost glimmer in the early morning light. You hip check the man who had so readily stolen your heart. “Stay the way that you are, and I can guarantee I’ll keep smiling,” You laugh

Bucky purses his lips; clearly thinking over his next words. Eventually, the pensive expression leaves his face – too serious for the morning – and a slow smile takes its place. “Let’s make a promise,” He whispers, the words powerful in the first hours of the waking day.

“What’s the promise?” You ask, eager to know, curiosity your besetting sin.

“I promise to stay the way that I am if you promise to keep smiling at me as if I’ve hung the sun, the moon, and the stars all for you.”

“You mean you don’t do that anyway?” You gasp, placing a hand to your chest in mock hurt. “I expected better, James Barnes.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand from where it was laid upon your chest. “Promise me, doll?”

“Alright,” You concede with an overdramatic sigh, but not even you could hide the smile of delight that stretches your cheeks and crinkles the corners of your eyes when you whisper, “I promise.”

*****

Marvel taglist: @angelxnaa @mesmerisedangel

taglists are open, drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine