#and whenever I look at her I see her and I just can’t. look at those sad eyes. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesgreasycurtainbangs · 2 days ago

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I saw someone post this on reddit as an issue: '' Whenever I was with him I just felt like it was all a big joke. I genuinely couldn’t fathom the idea that he found me attractive enough to date me. It didn’t feel real and it terrified me, I would look at myself before I went to go see him and think to myself “how could he possibly even find me attractive” '' and then she broke up with him because she couldn't handle comparing herself to other girls. So...maybe Reader is going through this and does not get why Rafe would ever be with her when REALLY pretty barbie bombshell girls are out there that he's exposed to on Figure 8. So she slowly pushes him away, distance herself, takes long etc until she breaks up with him. He GIVES IT HIS all to pursade her from leaving him but she walks out on him crying. But you know....happy end and they find their way back to each other

always yours - rafe cameron x pogue!reader

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ content: reader has self esteem issues, angst, insecurities, fluff ending

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ yap: thank you for this request xx

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ word count: 920

You’d never been able to shake that gnawing pit in your stomach—the one that whispered Rafe Cameron being with you didn’t add up. He was Figure 8 royalty: chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, the kind of guy who belonged on a yacht with sun-kissed Barbie dolls dripping in gold, not in your cramped Pogue trailer with its peeling paint and leaky faucet. You’d catch yourself in the mirror before he came over—hair a mess, skin flawed, clothes cheap—and wonder what the hell he saw in you. Those bombshell girls on his side of the island, with their glossy lips and perfect curves, made you feel like a punchline. Every time he touched you, kissed you, called you “baby,” it felt like a prank you weren’t in on. The doubt festered, growing into a quiet terror that he couldn’t possibly mean it—not when he had them as options.

It started small. You’d take longer to text back, let his calls ring out, make excuses about work or your dad needing you. He’d show up anyway, all intense eyes and easy grins, and you’d sit there, arms crossed, feeling like a fraud next to him. “You okay?” he’d ask, voice low, and you’d nod, forcing a smile, but inside you were spiraling. Comparing yourself to every tanned, leggy girl you’d seen him nod at on the Cut, imagining him waking up one day and realizing he could do better. The distance grew—days between seeing him stretched into weeks. You stopped letting him hold you, stopped laughing at his dumb jokes, building walls he couldn’t climb. He noticed, of course he did—Rafe wasn’t stupid—but you brushed it off, muttering, “I’m just tired,” until it wasn’t a lie anymore.

The breaking point came on a humid night, the air thick with salt and regret. He’d cornered you in your kitchen after you’d dodged him for days, his hands gripping the counter as he stared you down. “What’s going on with you?” he demanded, voice rough. “You’re shutting me out, and I don’t get it.”

You swallowed, heart pounding, the words clawing their way out. “I can’t do this anymore, Rafe. Us—it doesn’t make sense. You don’t belong with someone like me.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed on. “You’ve got all those girls on Figure 8—perfect, gorgeous girls—and I’m just… me. I don’t know why you’re even here.”

His face twisted, disbelief turning to desperation. “Are you serious? You think I’m just—what, fucking around ‘til something better comes along?” He stepped closer, hands reaching for you, but you backed away. “I’m here because I want you. I don’t give a shit about those girls—they’re not you, they’ll never be you.”

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head. “You say that now, but you’ll see it eventually. I’m not enough. I’ve never been enough.” Your chest heaved, the self-loathing you’d buried spilling out. “I can’t keep waiting for you to figure that out.”

“No—don’t do this,” he pleaded, voice breaking as he grabbed your wrists, pulling you toward him. “I love you, alright? I fucking love you, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re enough—more than enough. You’re everything.” His grip tightened, eyes wild, like he could physically hold you together. “Tell me what to do, baby. Tell me how to prove it.”

But it was too much—his words, his touch, the hope in his voice you couldn’t let yourself trust. You wrenched free, sobbing, “I can’t,” and stumbled to the door, grabbing your keys. He followed, begging, “Please, don’t walk out—don’t leave me like this,” but you couldn’t look back. You ran into the night, tears streaming, the sound of his voice cracking on your name echoing in your head as you drove off, leaving him standing there, broken.

Weeks bled into months. You avoided the Wreck, the docks, anywhere he might show up. Your days were gray, hollow, the ache of missing him warring with the certainty you’d done the right thing. But Rafe didn’t fade. He left voicemails you deleted without listening, sent texts you couldn’t bear to read, even slipped notes under your door—“You’re wrong about me. I’m still here.” Your dad grumbled about “that damn Cameron kid” lurking around, and JJ told you he’d seen Rafe looking like a ghost, hollow-eyed and quiet. It hurt to know he was hurting, but you told yourself he’d move on, find someone who fit his world.

Then one night, a storm rolled in, rain hammering your roof, and a knock shook your door. You opened it, and there he was—drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes red-rimmed but burning. “I can’t do this without you,” he said, voice raw. “I tried—I fucking tried to let you go, but I can’t. You’re not a joke, you’re not less than anyone. You’re mine, and I don’t care how long it takes—I’ll keep proving it ‘til you believe me.”

You stood there, soaked in the rain spilling through the open door, tears mixing with the wet on your face. “Rafe, I’m scared,” you whispered, the truth finally free. “I don’t know how to be enough for you.”

He stepped in, closing the distance, hands cupping your face like you might break. “You don’t have to be anything but you. I see you—every part of you—and I’m not running. I’m not those girls, I’m not my family. I’m yours.” His lips crashed into yours, desperate and sure, and for once, you let yourself fall—into him, into the messy, real thing you’d been too afraid to want.

taglist: @littlelamy @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt

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clitorphosis · 1 day ago

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(NANO)NITWIT

Damnation Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CONSENSUAL SEX, SMUT, female reader, suicidal thoughts, reader feels like shit and in general not well, hurt no comfort i think, age gap, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dacryphilia, light degradation, no orgasm for reader.

Summary: You don’t know what you missed in your forming years, maybe there was a book of written rules everyone has learned by heart and you missed that opportunity. Unlucky. Even worse when the person in front of you looks like he is supposed to be a porn star, while you were born under the unlucky star.

notes: this may be a little bit personal and all so yea..also thank you to Grey and Mads that they tolerated my tweaking over some parts…and two for a pic :3.I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs @writingwisterias @swordtosleeve

You are fucked.

So fucked in an irreparable way.

You wish a gun would be an option. It should be so easy, so simple - boom! And you’d be outta here. No one would care, even if you become a bug one day - no one would have noticed anyway, and there would be no thought to check your room. Samsa had it easier, even briefly, no one would spend their time to get rid of you. At the same time, you can’t bring yourself to end this all, the most ethical way is to live and wait for something. People die, you will too. Cowardly hiding yourself, afraid to appear in front of others like they will notice your cowardice, lack of capacity to do the favor. There is a certainty that life would end by being alone and miserable.

The sentiment isn’t just something that appeared in your head out of nowhere, you wished it was like that cause the glimpse of disappointment in your mother’s eyes isn’t the glow you have ever wanted to see. Silently calling you a piece of trash, maybe she is more straightforward with her friends - after all, you don’t interact much anymore. Never have you expected to be able to read someone’s thoughts from the face alone. So to stay away, locked from her sight is the right choice. There are no mirrors to face the mess you are.

And you are only in your 20s, they shouldn’t suck like that.

Your mom was right, actually. You won’t admit that because she believes moms are always right. After a certain point, aging is a burden on the shoulders. There is an invisible hand, not of the market, but of the big-big responsibility that comes with the age, it pushes you down like you are a dumb dog and you can’t hide from the shame. Feels odd, wrong, those animals are much smarter than you. And loved.

And partially, you are unlucky, at least you consider yourself one - while failing at every aspect of your life, this feeling got even deeper into your skin when your mom started bringing in her boyfriend. Attractive. Charismatic. Sexy. And god, you probably drilled holes into him.

Even worse, seeing her so happy and having something you can’t make your body fill with dread - this should be you.

You don’t like him.

Because he should be yours. In another life maybe, when being active and talking to someone isn’t an impossible task. Even though, this man is so insufferable to be around, at least you didn’t expect him to be one. Corny, dumb jokes. So unfunny, they want you to kill yourself whenever you catch the corners of your lips tug up. And he is really handsy, but the worst of them all - he doesn’t always ignore your existence too.

Leon. That was his name, he seemed a proper man, too normal, trying to be fun and charismatic - to get into your mom’s pants. Not yours. If someone asked your opinion, his jokes were lame as much as he is, but his handsome and hot face was compensating for his… whatever he is. And money. Rolex doesn’t grow on the trees, Ducati neither. You wouldn’t have minded his existence if he didn’t try to introduce himself in your life, feels like he is pitying you. You can see it in his blue eyes, that glimpse of pity every time he catches you out of your room (late at night). Too late in your life, too late that there is no place for him.

In all honesty. You don’t like him, but god, fuck, you like him too much for your own good.

He is too simple for his own sake. His smell doesn’t invade every corner of the apartment and he isn’t yours. Leon is the type of a man you’d find in most watched porn, highlight videos on the main page with cute, dumb, young girls clinging to his side, calling him daddy and worshiping his cock to the point someone may copy and paste these girls. Cliche, sexy cliche. There is a certain alluring trait in that, for you he is something unobtainable. Would he look at you disgustingly if you tried to touch him? If you tell him how your fingers find their way to your pussy every time? Inwardly you thanked god on your knees for people not being able to read your mind.

Also, it weirdly itches your brain. Like a bug bite to scratch.

And your mom isn’t the best woman out here, pissy over little things, always at the brink of bursting out, cause she knows better. Even better than a government agent. Something is not right and everyone on the street will be hearing that. Leon is not the type to involve himself deeply in arguments, his job fucks his brains enough, so it is natural to learn to ignore shit thrown at him. Like second nature and he can let off steam in other ways anyway.

Leon is in your room, you thought he left the house and was on one of the many business trips. To be honest, a man can’t have so many of them, probably cheating with a much more pleasant woman than your mom. Not with you. At the same time, a relief and not.

“Eh…?” You didn’t catch his words. Your gaze darted around his face, but never lingering on one spot - avoiding his blue eyes. Blue eyes are scary, intimidating - they drill into everyone’s souls and look lifeless.

But he is so pretty.

Focus. Why is he in your room?

Per se it is hard to speak with someone else, you don’t know what you missed in your forming years, maybe there was a book of written rules everyone has learned by heart and you missed that opportunity. Unlucky. Even worse when the person in front of you looks like he is supposed to be a porn star. A man with a big chest and these features are enough to make your knees weak. He has those shoulders you have only seen on Instagram models. Or in porn. Always legs placed on them.

“A gift” he repeats, pointing with his head to the little bag he put on your bed. Slowly stepping closer and sitting down. The bed dips slightly, making your body tense. “I brought you a gift.”

A gift. Did he buy it? If you were a dog, your ears would be perked up and your tail swishing in excitement, but maybe, unfortunately for you, there is no need for them - your expression shows whatever is on your mind. You didn’t notice how his eyes were still drilling into your frame, like a heavy weight on your shoulders. He expects something.

Your fingers reach for the bag or try to cause the attempt to be cut by the slap on your hand.

“Atta”Leon clears his throat, the low sound pulls you out of focus on the bag and the images of a possible gift. Fuck, he is still here. “What you should say?” He presses, his own voice is low, with a lilt of irritation slipping through - sounds rich and hot, like a good whiskey would taste.

Right, being thankful, AND respectful - whatever your mom has taught you. Even though you suck at talking it feels like even such a simple task is awkward and would be a pitiful attempt to appear normal.

“… Thank you” Not daring to look into his face. Hard. Your words come out of your mouth quietly, feel foreign too. Speaking always feels alien.

He cradles your face, not having another way but to meet his eyes. So close and filling your senses to the point you just freeze. There is a clear smell of alcohol, maybe whiskey. His fingers are rough contrasting with the subtle tenderness of his grip. The bed cracks a little bit louder this time and you realize he is looming over you. And you tense, instinctively your hands come up to try to push him away.

“Shhh, shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart” his thumb strokes softly your cheek, keeping you aware of how close he is. Too close, you can count every curve of his lashes, a scar on his cheek. His lips. They look kissable, a little bit dry today. Your mom said men shouldn’t use lip balm, it makes them gay. You don’t think that’s the case.

Your breathing hitches deep in your lungs, it feels like he is going to kiss you. Or not? You can’t bring yourself to move away when his hand firmly touches your waist, gripping it so securely before moving lower, to rest on your thigh - he explores your body like a map. Is that a dream? What should you do? Everything feels like it doesn’t happen to you, like a bad movie and you are just the watcher. Embarrassingly, your clit throbs with the need to be touched.

“Will you help me, mm?” Leon asks quietly and you exhale. Without too many thoughts, you nod. Finally, fewer thoughts - less mangy sensations. “A favor for a favor.”

You are unsure. You are never sure actually. 20s and a virgin, hopeless one. Since forever your mind stopped creating unrealistic expectations of the possible scenario of losing your virginity, still… you imagined this differently.

“Sure everyone who has touched you doesn’t know shit” Leon speaks in a honey-like voice buttering you to give in. His hand squeezes your thigh, leaving a big void in your brain.

Not like you are going to deny him cause words don’t come out, they never do, your mouth is so useless cause all it can do is just show a meek half-smile and not protest. Leon seems to catch on that quickly. In chaste kisses his lips are hot and he presses them against your cheeks just to slowly lower to the angle of your jaw. But there is nothing behind that, no affection or love you’ve seen in movies or read in books. He kisses your skin disinterested, in a lazy way to feign a desire to please you. Like he needs you, maybe deep down that’s true, cause it’d be so much easier to catch a girl for a night in the bar. Or to pay for sex.

Leon doesn’t care, that’s too many thoughts to focus on, too many worries. The only thing he is after is his pleasure, whatever you get off of isn’t something he considered. Your skin is soft underneath his lips, that’s inviting. Its softness is exciting, he wants to touch you even more and squeeze you like a plush toy. Still, avoiding your lips like the plague you stay unmoved, letting him spread your legs apart while keeping a firm grip on your chin - so your gaze wouldn’t get away, he needs you to face him for now.

His blue eyes wander around your face briefly, searching for something - maybe consent, or similar to that. But all he can see is an insecure mess, trying to hide how much his attention is fluttering, while your pupils are wide - he can see his reflection there too. And this burns even more the irrevocable desire in his body, hardening painfully his cock in the jeans. The fly isn’t even zipped, still, it doesn’t remove uncomfortable straining. So pent up. He needs to let steam off, he needs to fuck someone who isn’t going to do the same with his brains after that.

To remove your shorts is easy, underwear too, his gaze abandons your face to focus on important matters - your pussy, to let off this frustration, to fuck finally. You are so easy, he can move you around or touch you without any squeak from you, feeding on his own selfish desires and delusions.

Something is not right. It is disappointing. Almost hurting his ego, men are fragile creatures after all. You are not wet, well, you are, but not wet enough to be considered ready for his cock. This isn’t a big deal, a spit of saliva and quick thrust is enough. Still, a girl like you should be grateful for even quick kisses and a touch from him. And you seem to be grateful, he can see this from your eyes and tensed expression - still not enough. The right girl would kiss the floor he walked, worship him, and treat him well. You are a little bit confused, but nothing a quick sex can fix, right?

He pins you against the mattress. In no time adjust your legs, pulling them to your chest. His hand pushes your head to the side to not see your face, not like it would be on his sight anyway, he is focused on other things - not on you, nor your pleasure. Your legs twitched as soon as he spat down on your pussy, the weird feeling of his saliva clinging to your lips - the difference between temperatures, how it is colder than your skin. Easy and free, it would be useless to waste lube and any time on you. His free hand grips your hip tightly, angling it to finally plunge his cock into your hole.

It is a quick thrust, no adjustment, no slow buildup - nothing. Not giving enough time to realize the contact of his tip with your hole - his cock fills you up intoxicatingly, to the point your head becomes dizzy, and your body tenses around him, clenching tightly in a vice-like grip.

“That’s a good girl, good puppy” He breathes out, giving a sharp thrust to see your face twists. Filling you to the hilt, the tip of his cock kisses your uterus and every possible trashing or worm out of this will lead only to his pleasure - a light shift of his hips and his cock grinds against your cervix. Your legs twitch, almost arching from the weirdest sensations - squirming pleasure mixed with pain, if someone asked you to describe it’d be similar to a billion butterflies fluttering in your womb as your body becomes not yours, too weak for sweet right buttons to press. Too bad you don’t miss his own expressions: how his eyes roll, enjoying how good your pussy spasms around him. Like it was made for him. For his cock.

He stretches your walls quickly, in a way you bite your lip so hard - the taste of iron mixes with the suffocating sensation, confusing you and almost worsening your panic, thinking it may be just a nosebleed. Or you are bleeding, it feels like you are being torn apart and you can not move. Your hole clenches tightly, searching for a little time to adjust, slow pull out of his cock and you can feel every one of his veins dragging against your walls. The little resistance would worsen this, you aren’t sure you should fight, but something tells you - you deserve this.

Tears well up easily in your eyes, not even noticing the sudden wetness on your cheeks, too focused on his dick inside you.

He drags it out slowly now until only the tip remains inside you - still uncomfortably stretching. There is something twisted in the way it pleases him to see how your hole tries to adjust around him. How it clings to every unevenness of his dick, your pussy twitches and pulses at every little touch, how it leaves wet trails and… blood?

“Ohh. Your first or not used to real man, huh?”He sighs with wider eyes, there is no surprise, just amusement. Looking down at his cock, the light traces of blood on his skin. You are a virgin, or he just tore you cause you were unprepared. Not like he cared, not his mess to clean. “Too bad I am not stopping”

Not really expecting an answer from you, but not to hear your squeaks or sobs anymore, his hand creeps to rest on your mouth. He shoves his cock back and the pain returns. Not as overwhelming as it was before, still in a weird way. You liked the thought of being degraded, to be slapped, and treated the same as those girls in porn. It scratches the feeling of unworthiness so well. So right too, like your spot is to be mistreated without any other options. But now, you don’t know how to even deal with this, it is hard to even try to make it feel good - you don’t have any idea how.

Leon fucks you as he wants, deep and selfishly, not giving too much time to breathe in. This is first, this is different, this is everything you didn’t expect it to be. And he wouldn’t let you have any other way anyway - but hey, it makes him feel good, no? The thought appears like a light bulb, pulsing in your head just to slightly ease your worries. Again, using dumb, stupid, and useless you, your body, makes him feel good.

You make him feel good.

“Yea, that’s a good fucking face, babe” Leon grunts again, addicting desire creeps up in his chest as you weakly sob into his hand. Tears are sexy, no matter the reason behind them - too rough? Women like rough anyway. Too good? Of course, he knows his ways with women. Bad? You don’t know shit, an invalid opinion.

“Pretty when you cry, keep that face on” he is so close now to you, leaning over and his fingers dip into your cheeks to force your gaze to meet his. To see better your ruined and tearful face. His warm tongue presses against your cheek and any trails of your rolling tears disappear under his mouth - his cock pulses inside you at the taste of your tears. A grain of saltiness. And nothing. This is sexy, this is addicting and he is the reason for these pretty wet eyes.

You twitch with a loud gasp, muffled under his hand. He is so close, that is impossible to ignore how rough and messy his thrusts become. Deeply burying himself into your pussy, and your body isn’t yours anymore. The way it clenches around him, enticing a groan over you, like an addict getting that sweet shot of heroin. His cock twitches, you can feel it even better now, like your bodies become one at this point. You aren’t sure if there isn’t a thin layer of tissue, but it wouldn’t be surprising to get a visible outline of his cock.

You try to reach for your clit, to be selfish for once to end up useless again. Leon doesn’t care, as his weight presses on your body to hit the deeper angle, and your attempt is thrown out of the window. This is a fuzzy feeling, humiliating in its nature, as the sudden action electrifies your body with pleasure and guilt. Pleasure cause his dick hits soo well your spongy spot, he fits sooo well in your pussy, knowing every right spot to hit to twist your expression and guilty cause you shouldn’t feel pleasure. Overwhelming, too much happens - you can’t even focus on yourself for once. He is licking away your tears. Leon is so sweet, affectionate and caring, oh my god! - one of a billion thoughts flooded in your brain, just to be hit out of your head after a rough thrust. Leon is so sweet and so thoughtful. He likes you, right?

Keeping the pace steady as the only sound fills your room is the skin-slapping one, every time his hips connect with yours - his balls slap your ass. And you arch into him, involuntarily trying to grasp a little bit of pleasure from this situation - the little friction between your clit and his happy trail every time his hips slam, even briefly sending a jolt through your body.

“Fuck… take it” Leon groans, breathing out heavily and letting it brush against your skin. He is overwhelmingly everywhere: inside your pussy, hitting your womb with every deep thrust, his weight presses on you while your eye contact with him remains forced, drilling holes in your face now. “your dumb wet face… keep it, gonna cum”

Not like you can keep your tears in, they keep coming, persisting your pathetic image in his eyes. You are so messy for him, with wet trails of his saliva mixed with your tears and with a clear intent to let him take whatever he wants from you. The sight tightens his balls as orgasm approaches like a quick tidal wave, his cock buries deep inside with the last slam. It twitches inside you, keeping you full, not only with his dick, but now his warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, his mind is blank - focused on how his cock pumped rope after rope inside you. First penetration, first creampie, he is first everything.

Leon slowly pulls out of you, a loud squelching sound accompanied by a weak whimper from you - there is a silence between you both, only heavy breathing. Light cracks as the surface of the bed becomes even - Leon isn’t next to you anymore, and neither he is going to let you get your high. Too much work. Less likely it is even possible, it felt foreign, like a knife in the old wound, rummaging in it only to leave a black scar to bleed.

His hand ruffles your hair as a last act of whatever happened, maybe it is affection or maybe he feels guilty to intrude your little world with his selfish desire. You wish it is both, to believe that someone wanted you finally even just to let off the steam, just to use you. Action so sweet and unexpected, it pulls you back, more aware of chills seeping into your bones as the remains heat of his body withdrew from you, like a wave washing off the footsteps on the sand - it may be a false memory, a dream of something that didn’t happened.

And just to leave you alone, all lonely to clean the mess he caused. Not like you are going to complain; there is no energy or right to do that. You cried it out, even anything similar to tears can’t get out anymore.

Your eyes hurt from it, and tears eat every moist spot leaving them dry. So strange, how can tears dry so easily in your eyes? Feels like sand was thrown in your face. Your trembling hands try to open the bag, it should be something nice - not every day you get a gift. A dreadful and sinking feeling fills your stomach at the sight of it being empty. The inside is empty. There is nothing. No gift.

And you feel empty too, maybe emptier than the giftless bag without him here.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil #damnation leon #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader

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fancyfeathers · 2 days ago

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Oml the way Dick’s darlings year would be SO rigged because instead of the usual footage of just the games, there’s definitely been cameras following Dick since he and his darling’s first meeting. Everyone was calling it like the next great love story or like Romeo and Juliet and the cameras always get his lovesick expression whenever he looks at her. All her interviews are definitely asking questions about if they have a thing going on and she’s being forced to spew out this fake story while he’s like gazing at her lovingly from the front row (because he got money like that). Everyone EATS IT UP and start pouring all their money into Dick’s darling during the game because how could they let everyone’s favorite golden boy Dick Grayson’s beloved die? Especially when his live reactions to the game are broadcasted and everyone sees how much he loves her and worries for her?

Yandere!Batfam Hunger Games AU

She is just another tribute from district eight or nine, no one special, she probably will not even live past the first day of the games let alone win, her having sisters who were crying and begging at the reaping did win her a few points for pulling a few heartstrings, but still a district one, two, or four tribute would most likely win. Well that is until during the Tribute’s Parade and a game maker’s son, the golden boy of the Capitol, cannot take his eyes off of her and suddenly all eyes are on her, especially when Dick runs to meet her after the parade, kissing her hand in front of all those cameras.

Suddenly everyone in the Capitol is fixated on Dick Grayson’s sweetheart overnight. She watches the interviews in the morning after the Parade with her mentor (I imagine her mentor as Bruce’s darling who was a victor when she was young) and fellow tribute from her district. He says it was love at first sight from the moment he saw her, even before the parade, when he watched the reaping on television. Suddenly there are sponsors pouring in for this girl who would normally have none.

She sees him staring at her while the tributes are training, his eyes never leaving her once unless someone is speaking to him. One night after training her stylist intercepts her when she is on her way back to her temporary living quarters, dragging her off and dressing her up in a darling little yellow dress with a petty coat and little white kitten heels, surprising simple given Capitol fashion. She is dragged off to the front door of the building where the tributes are staying, peacekeepers keeping an eye on her to make sure she does not run, and a car rolls up only to reveal he was the one who arranged this. Dick takes her out to dinner, the Capitol citizens fawning over them together, two people so in love that even impending death can’t tear them apart, even if their time together will be so short.

Suddenly he is seen with her everywhere leading up to the games, walking through the halls of the tribute’s living quarters. Taking her out into the city, accompanied by peacekeepers of course. Buying her all sorts of confections and pastries and hand feeding them to her. It does not matter if she wants to do this or not, it will get her sponsors and getting sponsors increases her chances of surviving in the games.

But then during when the tributes show their skills to the game makers, she gets the lowest score, even if she earned higher. But the lower score means the less of a target she’ll be to the other tributes, especially the careers. Besides she will have plenty of sponsors given the fact that she is the golden boy’s sweetheart.

Then when the tributes are being interviewed, everything is about her relationship with him and she just to have to swallow it all down with a melancholy smile, saying that it was sweet while it lasted but chances are that she is going to die in the arena as Dick stares at her from the front row. The crowd even calls for him to go on stage and kiss her in front of everyone on live television because this is the last time he’ll see her before the games, and he does, literally sweeping her off her feet in front of everyone and kissing her probably longer than what was necessary.

Then when she is in the arena, most of her sponsors gifts either have sweet notes from Dick or notes from other sponsors about how adorable she is with him or how beautiful their children would be. Even some of her other tributes know how rigged this is in her favor, mainly the ones from less privileged districts, but still, they have heard the whispers of what happened to some victors after the games, either way she is better of dead. She probably does not even kill during the games, just making her look more sweet and innocent to the Capitol, winning the games by waiting for the other tributes to kill each other or be killed by something the game makers throw their way.

Either way when the games are over, she definitely needs medical attention just like most victors do after the games, surgically repairing her body so it heals unnaturally quick. But when she wakes up he is sleeping at her bedside, and while he is asleep her mentor shows her the footage of his reactions during the games, interviews with him talking about how she was doing during the games or footage of him looking concerned when walking to his car after she broke her arm.

Then when the time comes after her quick, surgery induced recovery, when she is crowned the victor, she still has that small piece of hope in her chest that she’ll be able to go home, forget all about this to the best of her ability, hoping she’ll find some way to cope with the trauma. But that small hope is crushed when Dick gets down on one knee in front of her with a diamond ring. She has no choice but to say yes, she has heard the stories of victors whose family were killed by the Capitol when they refused to do something.

#yandere dc headcanon #yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne

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noirsdoll · 3 days ago

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I NEED to saw daddy curly being obsessed with daughter reader to the point she uses it against him, to have him eat her out whenever she wants, touch him however she pleases cause he’ll always enjoy it and can’t say to to her

i fw you so hard anon.. #needthat #needdadcurly i think curly is the biggest pushover ever and has SUCH a problem w saying no also he has an oral fixation cuz i said so

cw: father/daughter incest, ddlg (daddy kink), praise, pussy eating, oral fixation, soft!dom curly, dead dove do not eat

Daddy won’t say it, but you know he likes it when you don’t wear panties.

He averts his eyes, avoiding the sliver of your cunt that he can see when you part your legs oh-so-discreetly. Curly can pretend to be moral about it all he wants, you don’t mind. You have plenty of mental images of him between your legs to soothe your imagination.

Curly spoils you rotten, he falls apart at the sight of a trembling bottom lip, never mind the crescent shape of your ass peeking out from the bottom of your shorts, the gentle curve of your tits. In every aspect of your life, he’s pliable, bending to your will and your begging. It’s only fair considering he spends so much time away from you— how could he ever say no?

He gets so pouty when he returns from a freight, bemoaning how much you’ve grown, how your days as his little girl are slipping through his fingers like sand. You’d tell him your cunt hasn’t changed— it still remains that tight, warm hug, ready to pull your daddy close and never let him go.

Daddy loves putting his mouth on you whenever he can, like there’s a meter you’re constantly filling that seems to cap off the second he gets you alone. It started with simple things– kisses on your temple and cheek, good mornings murmured hazily into your hair from behind. Then he realized you reciprocated that filthy want that was eating him from the inside.

It progressed to love bites, hickies bitten into your inner thighs and placed delicately along your collarbones. He caught you trying to cover them up once and stopped you, swiping the makeup away with his thumb and sucking the marks in deeper.

But no, he avoids that pretty cunt of yours, even while knowing you’d give it up without question and knowing just how much he wants it. How he pauses between your thighs, his eyes dragging up along your skin and landing on your pussy that hasn’t seen underwear in weeks. Puffy lips framing that delicate clit, the perfect sucker for Daddy’s oral fixation.

He finally does it when your fingers thread in his hair, listlessly tugging his head closer to the apex of your thighs, where you’ve been silently begging him to go all this time. Curly’s eyes dart up and down and up again, and the way his gaze finally lowers and stares at your cunt tells you he’s ready. This is the moment.

“Look at you, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even need to touch you to tell how wet you are, pearly cream dripping from your hole like he’s already filled you up. You’re aroused just from his kisses, the heat of his hot mouth pressed to your flesh.

“Just want you, Daddy,” you gasp, sucking down each breath. “Want your mouth.” You’re so turned on by his heated gaze that you hardly have room to breathe.

“Yeah? This is all for me, baby?” His voice rumbles, whispered to you in a low pitch that smears warmth over your insides.

You nod feverishly, your chest squeezing tight as Curly gently pushes your thighs apart to give himself room. His stubble brushes your soft skin and you strangely don’t mind the thought of carpet burn.

Daddy always knows exactly what to say, and he knows the perfect way to work you down there. His warm tongue slides into your pussy, his nose bumping your clit.

It’s life-changing, the type of shock that makes the world feel real, that gives a soul purpose. He sinks deeper, wrapping his big hands around your thighs. Daddy’s buttery lashes flutter closed, this is the most tranquil he’s ever looked.

He glances up at you, his eyes so deep they look navy— like the sky right before it goes dark. It turns your spine to liquid, it’s all you can do to keep yourself upright.

Daddy licks into you like he has all the time in the world, gently coaxing out your orgasm like he can have another whenever he wants. Your head spins at the implication. He knows he has you forever. His little girl.

Your head goes quiet, not a single thought left standing to rattle around in your skull. Just a mindless chant of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy is all that remains.

Your thighs tremble around his head, threatening to shut him off from the outside world, forcing him to pay attention to your cunt and nothing more. You whine loud when he kisses your clit.

“You can take another, sweetheart,” he coos, “c’mon, baby, doing so good for me.” His voice is heavy, weighted with lust– yet he never pushes to give you his cock, content to please you like this.

You feel cradled, just how you were in his arms when you were younger. His to hold and cherish. Daddy sucks on your sensitive clit with a sound so lewd that your pussy clenches around nothing. You try to wrench yourself away from the overstimulation.

He doesn’t hold you down, he waits for you to settle back toward him, melting with a purr. Your eyes drop to half-mast and you let him sink his tongue into you. Daddy swallows down your slick, one hand grabbing your ass and spreading you wider.

Your hips squirm against his tongue, your second orgasm impending. You remember when the idea of his mouth on you was so far away. Now, you can’t imagine how you went your whole life without it.

You can’t help it, everything clenching, your nails digging into your palms as you cum with a pitched whine. Your vision goes white with pleasure.

It’s only when Daddy comes into view that you calm back down. He cups your face, kissing you earnestly, deeply, letting you revel in the moment.

“Did that feel good, baby?” Curly kisses you again once you catch your breath. “Yeah, bet it did, sweetheart.”

“Ready for another?”

#mouthwashing #curly x reader smut #curly x reader #mouthwashing curly #captain curly #curly mouthwashing #curlyposting #curly mw #curly x you #curly smut #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x you #mouthwashing x y/n #🕸️—asks #🕸️—drabbles

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lightlycareless · 10 hours ago

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I was thinking about what would happen if like Y/N or Naoya somehow turned into like a younger version of themself for a day and the other has to look after them. I think it’d be especially cute if the younger version only had memories up to that age. Like all I can imagine is little Naoya all shy with grown Y/N not realizing that’s his future wife or maybe little Y/N feeling a little intimidated by adult Naoya or maybe even overwhelmed since he probably dotes on her too much lol

UHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Also, I had to rewrite this various times because I wasn't sure how to begin!! Like I had the idea, but I just couldn't translate it into words; but, here it is! Which I hope will be to your enjoyment :>

Warnings: fluff. you and naoya turn into kids but in different occasions. who knows if they happened in the same timeline lol. there's also references to other works which I will link once I update the masterlist. :') but you're always welcomed to search in my prompts tag.

Happy reading!

On one hand, we have a young Naoya that at first, doesn’t believe there’s a girl like you walking around the estate. And secondly, that the two eventually marry… in the future? Your relationship is somewhat explained to him; whatever he could understand it anyways…

But it still doesn’t make it any better.

It’s just—impossible! There’s no way he’d ever be with a girl that… that is so rude like you! Improper of the Zen’in standard!

Yet, makes him feel all warm up inside whenever you prepare his favorite miso soup, make sure that he’s well-dressed if the weather is too cold…or checking up on him between your duties, simply to see if he’s alright, if he’s getting adjusted to this temporary situation while reassuring him a solution will be found.

Something that was unusually done, without an ulterior motive, that is. Which instinctively draws him closer and closer to you.

And that’s without even considering your affinity for the same hobbies as him! Like watching anime, reading manga… Naoya couldn’t keep to himself anymore, he needed to know more of his supposed wife.

“How do you know all that?!” He exclaims, surprised by your vast knowledge in all his favorite series.

“Well, I had someone to guide me. An excellent teacher, actually.”

“Really?! Who???” Naoya breathes, growingly slightly jealous at the notion of someone else gaining your attention—guess that has always been the same.

“It’s you, silly.” You giggle, gently patting his head and making him blush. “You’re very passionate about these things whenever talking about them, how could I just ignore you?”

If the previous situations weren’t enough to warrant his complete devotion, this was. Because from that point forward he begins to follow you everywhere, but no longer with the intention of scrutinizing you—no; or learn more about the future the two shared, but rather, with the desire to impress you!

Naoya needed to hear more of lovely laughter, your warm compliments, and your bright grin whenever bringing you gifts—like those flowers he somehow knew were your favorite though you never told him (not in this age), but yet made sense for a pretty girl like you.

“I’m also a really good sorcerer, you know? I can protect you if you’re ever in danger!” Naoya proudly states, unwittingly making you laugh. “It’s true! There’s no one stronger than me!”

“Oh, I know you’re the strongest.”

“…And the most handsome one too.” He quietly adds, you smile.

“Perhaps, but you’re undoubtedly cute right now.” You then pinch his cheek, flaring his face even further before giving you a dejected pout, in disagreement of your words. “Ah, there’s no need to get upset—being cute is just as good!”

“No, as the great heir of the Zen’in I can’t be cute, I have to be handsome!” he protests. “Heir’s have to be strong and intimidating, command fear with every step I take!”

“And you’ll do just that, in due time. There’s no rush to get there.” You explain, shuffling the top of his hair. “Everybody is doing their best to get a solution for your situation, so why don’t you enjoy being a kid again? Not everyone gets a second chance like this one.”

“Because I don’t want to, I want—” he suddenly goes quiet, as if slowly accepting his face. Or perhaps still making amends with it.

“What is it?” you worriedly ask, leaning closer to him. “Is everything alright?”

“…Will you wait for me, then?” Naoya says, making you blink. “To when I grow up and become stronger, capable of protecting you and making you happy?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration, a striking contrast from the unwittingly arrogant child that never missed a chance to show off and impress you… now doubting his own capabilities.

But you could see it in his eyes, even then, what you always suspected of him became true: Naoya longed to love, and to be loved. To feel important, cherished. That his life was more than just fulfilling his family’s expectations and obtaining power.

He wished to be part of something greater, and that proved to be a family with you.

A part of you aches knowing that, if you hadn’t met him, his destiny would’ve been vastly different. Stings understanding his childhood had been nothing short of lonely.

But what you weren’t able to do then, you’re capable of now. Given a chance to mend those pains, give him a sample of what’s to come…

Reassuring him that life indeed, gets better.

“Yeah, I’ll wait for you. So, do your best until you become just that!” you cheer, offering him your pinky finger as the definitive sign of dedication, which he intertwines with his own soon after. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, we still have lots of things to do together once you’re grown up, ok?”

“I promise!”

When Naoya eventually returns to his normal self, you expected everything to go right back to how it was. But much to your shock, he’s unusually… shyer. As if ashamed that you got to see the only part he wished to keep a secret from you.

Yet, his actions would soon disprove your assumptions, revealing that the truth behind his demure actions were nothing less that appreciation, gratefulness at your unwavering commitment to take care of him, even when he was nothing less than a wimpy child—a stage in his life only God knows how much he needed that. To be cherished.

Makes him realize how truly blessed he is to have met you, and share his existence with yours.

Even on his last day on earth, he’ll never forget that.

You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite—at least in the very beginning.

When Naoya was nothing short of a reserved, shy piece of work, you went ahead and portrayed a striking contrast: enthusiastic to know all about this cool, somewhat handsome man that diligent took care of you.

Sure, you were a bit confused (frightened) as to why you were surrounded by people you didn’t know since you essentially lived at the Zen’in estate by that point, but after managing to calm you down by the presence of your family and a quick rundown of what happened to you, you were nothing but glued to Naoya, always excited to know what he’ll do that day, what cool technique he’ll perform during training…

Or, of course, what sweets he’ll bring for you to taste. Mochi are your all-time favorite hands down, but you’re always open for other suggestions.

“Do you like these?” Naoya would ask even though the answer was quite obvious in the way you gobbled all the treats one after another, yet he still wished to know.

“Yes! I love them!” you nod fervently, grabbing another sweet, unwrapping it, and moving it into your mouth. “They’re my favorite!”

“More than taro mochi?” He teases.

“No, that’s impossible. Taro is the best flavor in the whole world. Maybe Ube too.” You state confidently, in such adorable way he couldn’t help himself from laughing. And naturally, making you blush. “What…?”

“Nothing, guess it’s good to know that you’ve always been this way.” Naoya admits.

“How?” you ask back, tilting your head.

“Like… you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s perfect.” He smiles before winking. “But I’m sure you already knew that, little princess.”

“N—no…” you quietly answer, looking away in hopes of calming your thundering heart, but of course, that would prove impossible for the following days because as soon as he uttered those words, they were imprinted into your mind… leading you astray.

From a giddy, playful girl, you soon turned into a blushing mess whenever he was around, now quietly admiring him from afar instead of eagerly approaching as you always did. As if you’ve grown self-concious…

And this sudden change obviously caused Naoya to worry; fretting if perhaps he had done something to bother you, if not worse…

But all those worries disappeared the moment you finally gathered all the courage to ask him what has kept your thoughts busy these past few days: about the relationship you two seemed to have beforehand.

Eyes glistening with curiosity as you eagerly awaited his response, revealing to him the hopeless in love child he always suspected you to be, far beyond the Gengar-loving, mochi enthusiast everyone knew.

“How did we meet?”

“At school, Jujutsu High.”

“What did you think of me?”

“That you were pretty.”

“And what did I think of you?”

“…That I was bold.”

“Did you like me??”

“Of course, I still do.”

“Did I like you too?”

“Not at fir—yes.”

“How did you ask me to be your girlfriend?! Oh, did you bring me flowers and chocolates?!”

“Actually, it was you who asked me to be your boyfriend.”

“Huh??? I thought you were supposed to do that!”

And Naoya wanted to, but your eagerness and fear of losing him made you move first. Now that he reflects on it, it’s quite endearing.

“It’s a moment I hold dear to my heart.” He confesses. “And I know you did too.”

You blush.

“…And where did we go for our first date? Was it Disneyland?!”

“Not quite, we went to the mall first.” Or technically, the fair. You frown.

“What?” He chuckles. “It was a nice date.”

“I always wanted my first date to be at Disney…”

“I did take you for Valentine’s day, though.” Naoya says, fondly recalling the way you… appeared to have fainted at his revelation. Luckily, you remained conscious throughout your whole visit at the park to make it memorable. “And we’ve gone many times after, too. I always took you whenever you wanted.”

“Really?” you breathe, stars in your eyes. “Did you really do that for me?”

Oh, if you only knew how far he’d go for you.

“I even bought you that giant Gengar you’ve always wanted. Got you all the gaming consoles you can think of, with the newest videogames too.” He goes on, each and every word making your smile wider and wider. “And naturally, all the sweets you can eat. But not too many, or it’ll be bad for you. I’d say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Yet, when he expected another question to follow suit, just as you’ve bombarded him these past few minutes, he’s welcomed by silence. A prominent saddened pout on your face as you seem to be… disappointed by his words. Or maybe the limits he’s had to place to your sugary addiction?

“Now, Y/N; it’s necessary for your health—”

“No, it’s not that.” You interrupt, shaking your head, before going eerily quiet yet again.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Naoya asks, worried at this point. “Does something hurt?”

“…I don’t want to be like this anymore.” You eventually confess, revealing the tears beginning to form at the corners of your eyes; it’s a sight that has his breath hitching to his throat, tightening his heart.

“Y/N—”

“I want to grow up!”

“You will, we’re already looking into it, remember? There’s no need to stress about it.” Naoya attempts to reassure you, carefully wiping away the tears in your eyes that simply keep on flowing. “Just hang on for a little longer, I promise this will be over sooner than you expect.”

“But—but what if it doesn’t? What if I stay like this forever?!” you sob, causing something in Naoya’s heart to tighten. “I won’t be able to live all those pretty things again!!”

“Then I’ll just have to find whoever did this to you and turn into a kid myself.” His sudden words earn him a quizzical look from you, which he presses on with a smile. “That way we can experience all those things together again, like it was the first time.”

“Na—Naoya…”

“I promised we’d always be together, through thick and thin. Even if we turn into kids, or 100 years old.” Naoya continues. “So don’t cry, little princess. As long as you have me around, everything will be alright.”

The culprit is soon found after that, and you, with the work of talented sorcerers, return to normal.

However, as in both instances, you kept these new memories as a child—alongside a sentiment of nostalgia that hindered you from doinganything else that wasn’t being close to Naoya.

Such was your determination that it actually pushed you to do one of the things you least enjoyed, which was seeking him when busy, heading straight into the training grounds where you knew him to be at this hour—ignorant of who else was there—to pour your affection in a tight embrace and sweet kiss.

A demonstration that he doesn’t reject, though he is startled by it. Upon noticing your longing, Naoya promptly dismisses the rest of his entourage, before captivating you into his arms and deepening your gesture.

“What is the meaning of this?” He breathes, slightly flustered as he debates whether to lean in for another kiss or let you talk. Naoya choses the latter, he asked for an answer, after all.

“Do I need one?” you respond, a smirk appearing on his lips as you rest your face against his chest, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “…I just wanted to thank you for… taking care of me—No. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” And duty, he once swore. “And I’ll do it again, if you want me to.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” You give him a breathy laughter, looking up into his eyes. Remaining so, still, attentive to the gaze you fell in love with, before assessing your feelings yet again—your undeniable truth. “I love you.”

And Naoya smiles in response, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gives you the confirmation of what you already knew; for all eternity so.

“I love you too.”

This just made the two fall more in love with the other; also, when your kids eventually come along you can easily say "hey, they act like you!" and Naoya will no longer be able to deny it 🤣

As stated in the beginning, this was very sweet 🥺 Thank you so much for filling my life with a little bit of fluff—it's always necessary during these harsh times. Now I want to write domestic fluff jfc. Look what you have done... lmao 🤣

Anyways, thank you so much for sending me this ask!! I truly enjoyed writing it.

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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muffinsin · 23 hours ago

Note

Hi muffin how ya doin? Are you staying hydrated? Hope so, anyways I’ve been reading a lot of your writing lately and honestly I’m astonished about how creative you get with the most simplest layout

Obviously your a very busy person and have other prompts so feel free to let this rot in your inbox. But how would you think the Dimi daughters would react to their s/o being in a garage band? I’m not gonna lay out a whole lot of suggestions cause I want this to be as loose and as free as you want it to be.

lol I literally only thought up about this cause I was finished with school and bored so I went to my friends garage and just chilled there with my band. Anyways muffin I’m gonna let you go now so you can do whatever you need to do. Stay hydrated and have a wonderful rest of your week.

Hey y’all! I’ll be

opening the inbox again for a bit after this one👀!

This lowkey reminds me of this Daniela x reader oneshot I did of reader being in a garage band with Cassandra and Daniela crushing hard XP turning this into a rather-modern setting to fit the prompt a little more

Another thing;

I’m really close to 1K Followers and would really appreciate help getting there🙇‍♀️🙌 a HUGE thank you to all supporting me :)

Let’s get into it🙌

Masterlists

Bela

Despite liking music, Bela has never thought much about bands. Garage bands nonetheless

That is, until you

Until she would grit her teeth and groan, pillow held over her face as she hears you practice your songs in the garage across the street, far louder than she deems necessary

She’s told you countless times to quieten down, too!

Little does she know, you keep practicing a little louder than you need to, knowing it’ll make her come across

You can’t help it

Seeing your beautiful neighbour knocking by your garage door, her hands crossed and dressed in adorable pyjamas is somewhat the highlight of her day

You always promise to quieten down. You never do. You aren’t sure how else to talk to her than by making her come over

And while she certainly becomes more and more annoyed, she also becomes curious

Once, when she couldn’t sleep at all, haunted by guilt for moving from her sisters and mother and starting a life of her own- even as she lives only a town away- still eats at her times

That time, she didn’t come across to complain

She just leaned against the open garage door, smiling gently when you sent her one of your wide, bright smiles

And she listened

Eventually, you decide to make a move, a little, noticing her linger by the garage door more and more often, curious to listen to your music when she feels lonely

You set up a chair for her, try your best to make it look appealing and comfortable

For a long time, she doesn’t accept your offer whenever you try to casually mention towards it, offering her to have a seat instead

And while you’re a little disappointed you aren’t getting closer to her, and don’t know how to express your feelings for her, you’re happy whenever she does decide to linger by the garage and listen in

She doesn’t complain about the volume of your music any longer, but you see her nearly every night still, when she’s dressed in a large hoodie and comfortable pyjama pants, thick boots and occasionally even a beanie when it’s a little colder out

And then, one night- she does take you up your offer

You’re not sure why, don’t know if you’re making progress with her or she’s simply feeling lonely, but she steps inside and allows you to close the garage door, shutting out the cool air as she sits sideways in the comfortable, large armchair you set up for her, her legs dangling off the side

You think she looks breathtaking

It turns out, practicing is difficult with her nearby, when you barely look at your sheets, your eyes always finding hers again. You think, in this light, they almost look golden, and it makes your heart flutter

She stays with you all night long, listening and humming along once she gets a feel of the tune you’re practicing. It has your knees feel weak. You’re thankful you’re sitting down

And while you watch with a heavy heart when she returns home hours after, late at night already, you insist: she can always come over

And while she only shows you a sweet smile, her heart flutters at your offer

She finds herself spending nearly every evening with you, moving to your garage and finding you awaiting her with a happy smile already

You spend every day together, the days passing fast, turning to months

The first time she falls asleep sitting and listening to your music, you feel your heart stop

You know, as you watch her, you ought to wake her. You should shake her shoulder, wake her up, tell her it’s half past 2am and she should head home to get some real sleep in a comfortable bed

And you almost do, you insist to yourself

Instead, you cover her with a soft blanket and shut the garage door. You sleep by the corner wrapped in your blankets and clutching your pillow, not wanting her to be alone, not daring to move her

When you awaken in the morning she’s gone, having returned home, but her Thank you for last night, I apologise for the inconvenience -text popping up on your phone makes you grin brightly still

The next day, she’s back again

In time, she begins to bring snacks for you, and falls asleep more comfortably. You drag a sofa in the garage so you can sleep in the same room as her, preferably not on the hard floor

You don’t know how to tell her you like her, how to let her know every little thing she does and her mere presence sets your heart racing wildly

You’re just happy to be with her

And then, one night, when you awaken to her trying to open the garage door and sneaking out in the middle of the night- and you spot the tears running down her cheeks, you plead: “Stay”

And she does

And she curls up on the sofa with you, and she allows you to wrap your arms around her to comfort her and pull her closer

She doesn’t offer an explanation as to why she was crying, and you don’t ask. You just hold her, you just let her curl as close as she wants and grasp the front of your shirt. You let her fall asleep with her face rested against your throat, her warm breath soft against your skin

You inhale, gently hold her, and don’t dare sleep until you know she’s okay

And in the morning, she isn’t gone

She’s still there, curled against you, her head lifting when she notices you woke up

And you melt at the sight of her golden eyes

You don’t notice you’re leaning in, don’t notice her leaning up, your faces mere inches apart and her fingers curling with your wide band shirt grasped in them

You don’t notice, until your lips nearly brush against hers

You feel butterflies in your stomach at how close she is, your senses on fire. You want to lean forwards and capture her lips in her soft ones, but she beats you to it

And when you kiss, at last after months of yearning for her, you smile happily

And she smiles back against you

Cassandra

She’s on her way home, sulking after a long day when her head turns and she hears music coming from the distance

She boldly moves towards it, her golden eyes glowing in the dark as she tries to determine the source of the odd tune

It’s- a little wild, but comforting to her

When she finally gets close enough she spots the source- an open garage, with the music, warmth and light coming from it

And the moment she sticks her head in, she finds you; flinching back in surprise, your eyes wide

You hold up two things that look like thin, wooden sticks to her, as though to your defence, and she smiles a little

Cute

Cassandra boldly moves inside, humming lowly at the warmth inside the garage. It isn’t cold outside per se, but given her nature she still likes this far, far better

She straightens up as she accidentally allows her swarm to buzz happily, quickly forcing the little insects to stay quiet when she spots your raised eyebrow

For what feels like a long moment, you can only stare at the stranger in your garage. She's beautiful- there is no doubt about that- and while you can't be sure, you like to believe she isn't going to hurt you

Smirking at your flustered face and obvious worry, she steps a little closer in, once again sighing lowly at the warmth. She hates how it's already beginning to get a little colder again

"Well? Keep playing", she urges, her eyes finding the large, round set of what she assumes are drums and other instruments in the center of the room

You can only stare at her, unsure what to do

Perhaps, you ought to kick her out. Perhaps, you ought to stop practicing with your garage door wide open

Perhaps- you can get to know the beautiful, dark haired woman suddenly standing in your home

You gulp, but do as she's asked, watching as she lazily leans against the wall with her arms crossed

When you begin playing, her eyes slip shut, even are you're certain she's still perfectly aware of everything happening around her. She just strikes you as that type of person- and you have no idea just how right you are just yet

She’s calm, though you can tell she’s listening to you, and feel a blush rising to your throat whenever she scowls when you miss a beat

She’s listening closely to you- more so than you thought- and immediately recognizes it when something is different, when you miss a note or so

You find, despite how odd the situation is;

You like her

“What’s your name?”, you ask, but she only hums

“Keep playing”, she instead demands again, not answering your question

You try again, but she never answers you. She doesn’t even open her eyes, as though lost in the music you tunes for her. And despite how her silence is somewhat annoying and becoming more and more frustrating, you find yourself feeling flattered at how closely she is paying attention

Hours pass like nothing, hours of her only listening to you

Occasionally, she moves about, restless. You notice fast that the strange woman doesn’t stand still for long, and even when she takes a seat across from you, she never stays still for long

When nighttime comes and it’s almost beginning to look like early morning, she rises from the chair again for what must have been the fifth time now

But this time, she heads to the garage door, as though to leave

You aren’t sure what prompted it, but you reach out, and while you see her eyes flash with something when you grab her upper arm, she seems to allow the move

You feel desperate, almost

You don’t know her name, nor where is she from- she would not tell you, would not answer you

Instead, you simply ask;

“Will I see you again?”

, hoping she will grant you an answer this time

And it turns out, she does

She smirks, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Then, she turns, and your hand falls from her arm

“Perhaps, muzicuța mea”

You stare at her, confused, watching her leave and left to only hope she might return

The next day, you secretly hope the beautiful stranger will be back. You practice just a little louder, as though hoping she will hear and find her way to you again, even with the garage door closed due to how cold it is that night

But, no matter how loud you play and how often you check the streets, she's nowhere to be found

The next day, she doesn't show either, nor the one after

By the seventh day you begin playing quieter again, finding it hard to play at all when she is all who is on your mind. You have no way of finding her, no way of even finding out her name

But when you play on the ninth day, you jump in surprise at the woman's face

With the garage door tipped open, she boldly moves inside yet again, and- perhaps an even bolder move- shuts it behind her

She says nothing, again, only moves up against the radiator and watches you, waiting for you to play again

How can you deny her?

You allow her to listen to you for a little while, in which she again stays standing by the radiator with her eyes closed. She's dressed much warmer than last time, a thick, heavy coat wrapped around her that seems slightly too big on her

"Will you tell me your name now?", you ask eventually, standing up and taking a small break. Immediately, her eyes open up and flicker to you again

And for a moment, you're sure she will simply ignore you again, until her lips part and she reveals; "Cassandra"

You can't help but smile at her, introducing yourself to her again despite having done so on the first day already

And like on the first day, she stays long, listening to you play, humming along, and leaves when morning comes

The next day, however, she returns again already

She notes immediately that you've set up a proper space for her, moved a comfortable sofa to the radiator, with four different blankets thrown across it. It wasn't hard for you to find out that she isn't fond of the cold, even as you would never suspect just how true that is

Cassandra sits and curls up as she listens to you again, though this time her eyes stay open

You feel them on you, feel her take in every little inch of you, even

And when you take a break, hoping to be subtle and cool when you sit down on the sofa next to her, your breath hitches when she moves closer to you

She knows what she wants- has always known- and her mother has always encouraged her to take what she desires

Why would you be any different?

Your cheeks burn when she grabs your chin and makes you face her, pulling you in until your lips almost brush against hers

You realize- she is giving you an opportunity to pull away, and gasps in surprise when you instead make the bold move of moving forwards, your lips connecting with her ones

You smile against her when she immediately kisses you back, eager, hungry, almost insatiable

And when she pulls away a little, you can't help but chase her lips with yours

Daniela

You love Daniela

She is your girlfriend, your supporter, your muse as it comes to your music

She inspires you, motivates you, and makes you happier than any other person ever could

But, she is also your sweetest distraction

When you practice, she likes to bring you something to drink occasionally. When it's just the two of you, she often does so in clothing she knows you like, with a tight tank top exposing her large, soft breasts, a cute choker necklace looking suspiciously much like an elegant collar, and tight skirts that you yearn to lift

She'll insist, she wants you to stay hydrated and healthy, especially when you practice on hot summer days, but her visits usually end the same way; with her pressed up against the wall, her thighs on either side of your hips and legs wrapped around you, her hands at your shoulders or back and her lips feverishly meeting yours over, and over, and over again

You love it. You love taking little breaks and drinking in her little moans. She's a huge inspiration for you, and your music, and has had a series of songs based on her

When she visits you while you practice on your own, Daniela can be quite the tease, though

She likes to sit behind you, her lips attached to your throat, licking, sucking, biting lazily and kissing over the marks, her hands sliding across your thighs and rubbing them

Often, she is not only your muse, inspiring the most beautiful and sensual tunes, but also a siren, luring you in and making you end your practice sessions early

When practicing with your fellow band members, Daniela is the classic representation of "the hot girlfriend"

She likes to tease you by listening to you play, her long legs on display when wearing a skirt or shorts, her back arched a little as she sits on one of the counters in the garage

Often, passing neighbors or people coming to listen to your practice stay just a little longer to watch her, instead, and by the teasing glint in her eyes you know that she loves it

She loves being admired, put on display, and loves to turn one's head

She loves being shown who really owns her after, even more

As such, you will often indulge her for the moment, shaking your head a little as you play when more and more people begin to stand by the garage door, their eyes flickering between the instruments and your band and her

Really, you can't quite complain, not since one of your band mates began charging a small sum for every half an hour spent listening to your practice- you find, time seems to pass fast when there's good music and your girlfriend around, and Daniela giggles so adorably whenever enough money is gathered that you get to buy her something nice with your share

It's a good concept, and while you will sometimes end practice a little earlier or take longer breaks to show your girlfriend just who she belongs to and not to bat her pretty eyes at others for fun, you both know it's never serious

She's yours, only yours, and she loves stating so

As much as she enjoys looking good and catching one's eye when they merely pass the garage, and as much as she likes shooting teasing smiles at some of them to keep them there longer, she enjoys feeling as though you are showing off what is yours

She likes to sit near you, her head on your shoulder or in your lap, letting everyone know just who she is with. She likes thinking she's a source of pride for you, and she loves whenever you confirm this

When you practice a new song, she is the first to know it, aside from your team. She very rarely misses a practice and is incredibly supportive of you

Often, you will catch her hum one of your tunes in the shower or around the house, and can only smile when you call her out and she giggles playfully

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #Dani's getting a bit shorter oops-

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redcamellia13 · 2 days ago

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Mitsukou Analysis: Alteration Arc

(I should really get to organizing all my analyses)

The end times have come. I must analyze the most heart breaking moment of JSHk, and this is also where these analyses come rot an end, at least until an entire new arc finishes up. However, there will be a part two (mostly because I don't have the emotional strength to cover chapter 120)

Without further ado, let’s go…! (Forced enthusiasm)

My overly Korean grandma bows for everything, and I think that rubbed off on me, because that bow Kou just did is something I have to refrain from doing every time I'm sorry/thankful (just picture me doing this at least 5 times whenever I say "I'm so, sincerely sorry!" or "Oh my goodness, thank you so, so much!")

Anywayyyyssss... I'm glad to see how Mitsuba and Kou are still friends, and best at that. Which is kind of an... odd decision to make, on Aidairo's part.

Given that in all Twitter AUs as well as bonus art Mitsuba and Kou are always good friends, and they’re so close in the New Timeline- it’s almost as though Aidairo’s trying to say no matter what, Kou and Mitsuba are always friends.

You know what that reminds me of? The red string of fate (aka the mermaid scale) binding Hanako and Nene across time and space. And we all know Hanako and Nene are infamous for being friends, just friends, nothing more, purely platonic friends

Then again, Kou’s special relationship with Mitsuba might not be so special after all, since he gave Nene that ticket without remembering the old world.

It’s a bit… I don’t know, concerning that we don’t see any tears from Teru or Kou about their mother being alive in this timeline/their mother being dead in the last one.

I get it was a long time ago, and both Minamotos have been shown to have healed since then. Teru is sorta desensitized to death, and to Kou, it’s just a fact of life he has to get over.

But come on, this was Kou’s number one wish! I expected a little stronger reaction!

Something I was wondering was, why did Kou and Sousuke (since Mitsuba in this timeline seems a lot closer to Sousuke than No. 3) forget things, while the people involved with the clockkeeper’s trial kept their memories?

You might be thinking, “well duh Camellia, you just said it, it’s because they were involved in the trial.”

But the thing is, there is no established reason why participants in the trial retained their memories, or at least recovered them faster, over the non participants.

Honestly, it would be counter intuitive for Kako and Mirai (let’s be honest Akane couldn’t do shit to stop them) to allow the participants to keep memories of the old world, considering our most powerful character is in that party: Teru. I’m really hoping it’s not just a plot hole Aidairo forgot to patch, and that it actually means something

Also, why haven’t we gotten a Minamoto dad reveal yet? Is Aidairo saving it for a future plot twist?

I wasn’t going to include this panel until I took a closer look at the background, where Sousuke’s mom is black out drunk.

I’m sorry, what?! Sousuke’s mom, in the old timeline, is a sweet, sincere, still grieving woman who cared deeply for her late son. Never are we shown signs of her being an alcoholic.

I can’t tell if it affects Mitsuba’s quality of living, or if this is a one time thing. Does this mean if Mitsuba were alive she would be a worse person?

This is quite a calculated move on Mitsuba’s part. Just as Kou said, he’s a scaredy-cat who would never willingly come to the school at night, so something had to have changed.

It’s… probably not his underclassmen. Mitsuba has never been shown to be social, other than joining the photography club and even then when Kou visited them to investigate Sousuke's grave they told him he was never really close to other members.

So, it's either one of the following:

He wanted to talk to Kou about the "dream"

He had some weird sense it was related to Tsukasa

Oh so they dream about each other now (see After School Hanako-kun)

This has nothing to do with their relationship I just wanted to say that (Aidairo probably didn't mean it like that but I'm taking the win regardless)

Kou has been actively avoiding discussing Mitsuba's death with him, and that is completely understandable: the dude his 90% of his trauma for heaven's sake!

However, Mitsuba isn't shying away from the topic at all, consistently approaching Kou about it.

And this is weird as hell.

Mitsuba's situation in the new timeline is arguably worse than any other character since both iterations live inside of him which must be such an unpleasant feeling, and on top of that, the guy that would bring up the worst memories is now his best friend (okay I take it back things could be worse *ahem ahem YUGI TWINS*)

God, this is heart breaking to read...

RUN, RUN LITTLE MITSUKOU BEFORE ITS TOO LATEEEEE

Desperate attempts to save my children aside, apparently the Red House can just randomly change paperwork to draw victims in.

I'm quite confused as to how it does this, and doubly confused when it comes to the photo Sousuke took that suddenly developed into a pic of the Red House.

It's most likely due to Amane using the powers he got from the hole god, but we don't know what he really is.

The science prep room Nene stumbled into was so long ago it was since converted into a storage room. But in the photos inside the photo album are of modern-looking astronomy technology. If Amane was born in 1955, and we can estimate adult Amane to be ~20 years old, these pictures were taken in the '70s.

If he isn't born in 1955, then could that be the change Kako and MIrai made? But it doesn't cause that powerful ripple effect required...

Now, I am no expert in telescopes, but these do not look like they were made in 1970.

Also. Teru mentions no rumors surround the Red House, which either means it's reality warping effect has gotten much stronger or the house has gotten weaker. Given that Aidairo likes to make things ten times worse, it's most likely the latter, so does this mean the Red House only draws in people connected to the old timeline/those with spiritual energy?

#dang lotsa questions in this analysis #i apologize for all the unrelated theories :(#see this is where my korean bowing manifests itself #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #mitsukou #tbhk manga #kou minamoto #jibaku shounen hanako kun #mitsuba sousuke #kou minamoto x mitsuba sousuke #tbhk analysis #jshk analysis #my mind is so dead #this was so #so any inaccuracies are entirely mine

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qualitycomputerduck · 3 days ago

Text

Just feeding ChatGPT

Mydei x Stelle

Before Dawn

The air in Stelle’s and Dan Heng’s quarters was thick with something unnamed, something unspoken. She had always felt it whenever Mydei was near—a subtle, electric pull, a gravity stronger than any star’s. And tonight, on the eve of his departure for Castrum Kremnos, it was unbearable.

She sat at the balcony of their quarters, idly running her fingers over the cold skin caused by the night’s air, her thoughts anything but idle. Leaving was necessary. She had known that from the start. But why did it feel like she was carving out a piece of herself and having it leave with him?

***

A quiet knock at his door startled him. Mydei turned, expecting Phainon or Aglaea, but when the door slid open, Stelle was there, silhouetted against the dim corridor light. Her eyes gleamed with something unreadable, something just out of reach.

“Stelle?” Mydei stood, smoothing the fabric of his pants. “It’s late.”

“I know,” Stelle said, stepping in without hesitation. The door hissed shut behind her, sealing them in together. Mydei felt his pulse quicken.

Stelle was always hard to read. Where others expressed, she acted. Where others spoke, she simply… was. But now, standing here in the silence, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides, her lips pressed in something dangerously close to hesitation—this was different.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Stelle admitted finally. Her voice was quieter than usual, almost careful. “Not with you leaving tomorrow.”

Mydei swallowed. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried.” Stelle stepped closer. Too close. Just close enough that Mydei could see the way her throat worked when she swallowed, could catch the barest breath of her scent—cool like morning air, with something deeper beneath. “I just…”

She exhaled sharply, then let her hands fall to Mydei’s forearms, gripping just above the vambraces. The touch sent a jolt through Mydei’s spine.

“Why are you really here?” Mydei asked, softer now.

Stelle’s grip tightened. “Because I can’t let you go without saying it.”

Saying what? Mydei wanted to demand, but his throat had gone dry. The answer was there, lingering in the way Stelle’s fingers curled against his arms, in the way she was looking at him, raw and fierce and desperate.

“I wanted to tell you before,” Stelle went on, voice thick, “but I was afraid. That if I said it, it would change things. That it would make it harder. But it’s already hard, Mydei. Watching you leave when all I want is for you to stay.”

Mydei’s breath hitched. He couldn’t move. Didn’t dare. He had dreamed of this—ached for it in the quiet moments between battle and duty. But he had convinced himself that it was one-sided. That Stelle was a force too untethered, too free to be bound by something as fragile as longing.

“I want you,” Stelle admitted, barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted you since the beginning.”

Mydei closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay steady. But he couldn’t. Not when Stelle was right there, waiting, open in a way she had never been before.

When he spoke, his voice trembled. “Then why did you wait until now?”

Stelle let out a short, bitter laugh. “Because I was a coward. And because I knew you would leave.”

Mydei exhaled sharply, reaching up to grasp Stelle’s wrists in turn. “You think this makes it easier?”

“No.” Stelle shook her head. “But at least now you’ll know.”

The words settled between them, heavy with all the nights of stolen glances, the battles fought side by side, the unspoken ache of something neither had dared to reach for.

Mydei hesitated for only a second longer before he surged forward, catching Stelle’s lips in a desperate, bruising kiss. Stelle inhaled sharply, then melted into him, arms winding around Mydei’s waist as if to hold him there, to keep him from slipping away like the dawn.

They kissed like the world was ending. Like tomorrow would never come. Like this was all they had left.

When they finally parted, breathless and unsteady, Mydei pressed his forehead against Stelle’s. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Stelle’s fingers traced along Mydei’s jaw, slow and reverent. “Then come back to me.”

Mydei let out a shaky breath, nodding. “I will.”

And with that promise, they stood together in the quiet, holding onto the night for just a little longer.

#mydeimos #Mydei #mydei x stelle #mydei x reader #hsr mydei #mydei x you

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sea-lanterns · 2 days ago

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Ooooh, Varesa! A good choice, she's so pretty 😋

Imagine the Vet is looking her over after one of her fights with Ganyu, wanting to make sure she didn't get any other injuries in their "game" of headbutting, such as bruises on her legs, maybe massaging parts of her to help calm down... maybe or maybe not being aware of how her actions are turning the cow hybrid on-

Oh! I don't think anyone has brought up Hu Tao in the Hybrid!AU yet have they? She could be the first bug hybrid (almost said bug type like she's some sorta pokemon 😭) on the sanctuary. Not very hard to figure what kind of bug she'd be, considering all the butterfly motifs she has 😅

Alsoooo... I know it may be a bit early to ask this. But with MerMay just a month or two away, does that mean we may see the return of the Pirate!AU? Just curious because I enjoyed reading on all the shenanigans the Siren!Reader and all the Pirate!Genshin Women got themselves into with each other!

💋 Anon

I like to think Varesa absolutely melts whenever the Vet does checkups on her. Her muscles are so sensitive when you brush over her thighs or chest, she can’t help but let out small moos of pleasure 🥺. The Vet is blissfully unaware of how much of a turn on it is for Varesa though. She thinks it’s just a simple checkup, but for Varesa she is teetering on the edge of wanting to pin you down on the hay bales and give you a calf.

Also, speaking of Hu Tao. I don’t remember if we talked about her yet in the AU, but imo she’d be a Bat! Hybrid. A butterfly hybrid is quite interesting considering all the butterflies in her design, but I think that species would go better with another genshin girl (I have an ask for a butterfly hybrid with someone else lol). I think Hu Tao being a Bat Hybrid would be fitting considering she’s so eerie but cute. She’ll tuck herself away in the barn ceilings and jump out to scare the Vet whenever she does her nightly rounds, perching on her head and screeching like the chaotic woman she is.

And, to answer your question about the Pirate/Siren AU for MerMay, I don’t have anything planned but perhaps once May rolls around and some thirsts start coming in for the AU, we might get something Pirate AU themed for the blog. Most of my inspiration comes from you guys, so if I see an influx of Pirate/Siren AU stuff for May, I’ll happily write some things for it 🩷

#🫧feeding the fishes #💋 anon #animal hybrid au

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noellawrites · 2 days ago

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Belonging to You - dark!Gilbert Blythe x reader

part one linked here - but it isn’t necessary to understand this part <3

synopsis: your parents allow Gilbert to court you, and he has an idea about exactly the wife you should be, but he can’t wait until the wedding.

warnings: arranged/forced marriage & dub/noncon (brief). Gilbert & reader are 18+

requested by: @xxoverthinkerxx @kakamixo

As the cool autumn turned into a biting winter, you remained steadfast in your avoidance of Gilbert Blythe.

Your mother was so happy to hear of your “budding friendship” and readily encouraged it, but you hadn’t told her about the forceful kiss.

Gilbert was attending Queen’s College, returning to Avonlea whenever he could. Bash and Delphine remained in Gilbert’s house, tending to the property in his absence.

You, on the other hand, were studying with Avonlea’s new schoolteacher and helping her teach classes to the younger children. Since you had turned eighteen, your parents made you focus less on schoolwork and more on finding a husband.

Your mother’s recent attempt had been with Billy Andrews, who had brutally mocked you in school. His opinion of you didn’t seem to change, laughing as he took in the sight of your dilapidated house and sad, desperate parents.

However, your mom had announced that a special guest would be coming over for dinner this weekend. She took away your schoolbooks and made you focus on your recipes, bound to show this new suitor that you could be a useful wife.

“If this young man doesn’t want you, I think we’ll have to search through the widowers in town. I hear both Mr. Croft and Mr. Franks are looking for young wives,” your father points out as you set the table for dinner.

“Oh gross, dad. I’m not marrying some old man!” you exclaim.

“You will have to, if Gilbert Blythe refuses to marry you,” your mother snaps.

“G-Gilbert?” you squeak, a shiver of fear running down your spine. You still hadn’t fully forgotten the forceful kiss from early that spring.

“Yes. Gilbert has generously offered to court you, and we have accepted. As you know, we had to sell your dowry to keep our land, (y/n). And it’s not like any suitors are knocking down doors to be with you,” your father points out.

“I-I can pause my studies! I can go into Charlottetown and—“ your voice is cut off by a knock at the front door, and you know exactly who it is.

“Oh, lovely! He’s here already,” your mother smiles, clapping her hands.

You reach your hand towards the knob shakily, ready to greet Gilbert against your will.

“Hello, (y/n). You are looking quite beautiful today,” he smiles, bowing to you and kissing your hand softly.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you again! Come in, come in,” your mother beckons.

You feel like you’re floating outside your body through the entire dinner, nodding and smiling when anyone looks over at you.

Gilbert is seated next to you, of course, with your parents on the opposite side. Neither of them see when Gilbert places his palm on the top of your thigh. Nothing changed, and he carries on his discussion with your dad about farmland and the possibility of Gilbert buying your family’s farm.

“Our children will have lots of land to play on,” Gilbert says, turning to face you with a smile.

“O-oh— I don’t know if I want children, Gilbert,” you say quietly

“Honey! Take that back,” your mother hisses, her eyes flying wide open.

Gilbert frowns, grip tightening on your thigh. “Once we marry, you won’t have much of a choice.”

You force out a cruel laugh. “Once we marry? That’s if I even want to marry you.”

“Please stop making this worse for yourself, honey,” your mother begs. She still remembers her own lack of choices when her parents chose your father as her match.

“We have already accepted Gilbert’s offer for your hand, the deed is done,” your dad says harshly.

“What? And you’re just telling me this now?”

“Once I finish university, I want to raise our big family in my home and work as Avonlea’s doctor,” Gilbert explains, standing up from the table and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“The wedding is a month from today,” your mom tells you. You’re still in shock, processing the fact that a man you hardly knew, only from school, was to be your eternal husband.

“This is not fair,” you snap, and run up the stairs to your bedroom. You fall against your quilt, tears soaking the fabric as you realize your fate. Just another miserable woman chained to Avonlea, forced to be a mother and caregiver.

You don’t even hear the footsteps ascending the stairs and approaching your room. You are fully surprised when your door opens and Gilbert is on the other side, arms crossed over his chest, looking very angry.

“Your parents assured me that I would be receiving an obedient wife,” Gilbert hisses through clenched teeth.

You look up, turning your head to the man standing angrily at your door. “Are you serious? You expect me to be an obedient wife to you when I barely even know you?”

“You know me well enough, aren’t we friends?”

You blink, processing Gilbert’s words. You did know him, or you thought you did.

“I suppose you’re a better option than Billy Andrews,” you sit up, cracking a smile.

“That’s the spirit,” Gilbert smirks, sitting down on your bed next to you.

“But… your parents expect certain things from us,” Gilbert continues, “and I’ll need you to take care of the children and house while I finish my studies.”

“What about the land?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Bash takes care of the land and maintenance, but you will be responsible for Delphine while he works,” Gilbert explains.

“That— that isn’t too bad, I suppose. And I can visit you when you’re in school?”

“What, now you want to visit me?” Gilbert jokes, nudging you.

“I mean, if you’re my husband, then yes,” you nod.

“It’s settled then,” Gilbert says.

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea of marrying Gilbert, but you didn’t mind being courted by him for now. And if it meant your parents would stop pressuring you, you were all for it.

Gilbert reaches for your hand, taking it in his and moving closer to you.

You feel like you blinked and all of a sudden, your new fiancée was laying beside you on the bed. And when he leaned over to kiss you, all you could do was let him.

You were acutely aware that you belonged to him now, in every moment. His, as his hand inched down to the hem of your dress. His, as he slid it over your head and kissed down your soft stomach.

—

The month passed you by in a flurry of activity. Suddenly, it was your wedding day to Gilbert and you still didn’t feel ready, still didn’t want to give your life away.

Your trunk had already been moved to Gilbert’s home, sheets stripped from your bed and room lait bare in front of you.

“Honey? Why are you up here, it’s almost time. All the guests are outside,” your mom hums, standing in the doorway.

You turn to her slowly, and she sees the tears trailing down your cheeks.

“Momma— I don’t wanna do this,” you whisper.

“It’s too late,” she hisses, taking a step closer.

“Mom, it’s not. I could always—“

“Gilbert told me what you did, what happened the day you agreed to marry him. When we left you two alone on this very room,” she snaps, “I didn’t think I raised a temptress. But you sealed your fate.”

You had almost forgotten by now, but not quite. The unceremonious occasion when Gilbert took your virginity and claimed you as his, right on your childhood bed.

You gulp and nod. You had no choices left, only to commit to Gilbert fully. It was your only hope for a good life and future.

—

“I’m proud of you,” Gilbert whispers. It is nighttime, your first night in your new home.

“You told my parents that you—“

“That we,” he corrects. You nod. A husband is always right.

“Gilbert, I’ve grown ill,” you confess, and your husband moves closer to you under the blankets. His eyes light up.

“Do you think—?” he asks, excited at the prospect that his seed might’ve already taken.

“I do,” you squeak, “and I have not bled, either.”

“This is amazing news!” he blurts out, wrapping his arms around you. It is supposed to be a hug, but it only feels like a trap.

“Our children will be so intelligent, like me. Obedient like you, of course. And so cute, like you, my wife,” he sighs, stroking your cheek.

As he looks into your eyes, you see a mixture of lust and power in them. Gilbert has you, you belong to him now. His perfect life is in his clutches.

#gilbert blythe x reader #gilbert blythe imagine #gilbert blythe #yandere gilbert blythe #awae x reader #anne with an e imagine #anne with an e x reader #yandere anne with an e #dark awae x reader #yandere awae x reader

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