#darling core

[yoru-no-seiiki]

[part two]

brainrotting about yan! cool kid. like komi’s brother who’s like hella quiet and never interacts with others but people keep fanboying/fangirling/gushing about him.

yan! cool kid who sits beside or behind you in every class.

yan! cool kid who despite looking like he wants to be anywhere but in his seat, earbuds plugged in, eyes staring off to the sky from the window right next to his seat like the anime harem protag he is except he’s actually just listening to your voice through a mic he planted on you.

yan! cool kid who always brings two umbrellas so that he could give one to you when you need it.

yan! cool kid who fantasizes about being with you 24/7. making songs about how he feels, drawing your visage on his notes, and using you as inspiration to study.

(it works too well and he’s always at the top of your class)

yan! cool kid who forces you to pair up with him in every single project. you just happened to be the closest to him. it’s convenient. deal with it.

yan! cool kid who uses the opportunity to get into your house and surround himself with your scent. if only he didn’t need oxygen otherwise he’d be stitch on your sweaty ass gym uniform/workout clothes unto his face.

yan! reader who smiles knowing that their crush is as depraved as they are to him. giggling as they take a video of the school’s most popular and handsome guy getting off to their scent. hands desperately chasing release — one rough tug and he’s spilling all over your bedsheets. judging from the amount of fluids it definitely wasn’t his first climax since you left to ‘make a bite to eat’

[darlingsodivine]

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔, 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏, 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒚����𝒏𝒈? 𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉? 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒊𝒕! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓- 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝑰𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑- 𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑, 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈- 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆. 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆?

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!��𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 - 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑- 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎- 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔- 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓! 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉- 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔, 𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆-

𝐈𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲! 𝐈𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝! 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫! 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭- 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞-

Lowkey rushed

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere Host x reader

Gonna try a new writing style for this one

Yandere host~ Who was on the job charming his clients and giving them a false sense of worth when you walked in

Yandere host~ Who couldn't deny that you were very beautiful, and he couldn't wait to toy with you.

Yandere host~ Who was shocked and offended when you pushed him away and said it was your friend that had a hosting appointment not you.

Yandere host~ Who did indeed charm your friend but glanced at you every time as a desperate attempt to make you jealous or convince you to make an appointment yourself.

Yandere host~ Who was stunned and flabbergasted to find out that you weren't interested in him at all how couldn't you like him he's so pretty.

Yandere host~ Who decided to get close to your friend to get closer to you which did indeed work.

Yandere host~ Who was thrilled to find out that you'd be making host appointments, but that joy turned into jealousy and heartbreak when he found out you made appointments for other hosts and not him.

Yandere host~ Who would ignore his clients and stare at you from across the room with jealous eyes burning holes into the people that would host you.

Yandere host~ Who asks your friend everything about you which makes the whole thing about you not her.

Yandere host~ Who genuinely falls in love with you after hearing more and more about you.

Yandere host~ Who constantly asks you out and gets pouty and sulky every time you reject him only to ask you again the next day.

Yandere host~ Who one by one "gets rid of" all the other hosts so you'll have no choice but to let him host you.

Yandere host ~ Who's the definition of clingy and loves your personal space and is the equivalent to a puppy when you're around.

Yandere host~ Who always slips something into your tea and you always wake up in his embrace or with marks on your neck and chest (or both more often then not).

Yandere host~ Who will do anything and I mean anything or your attention and much more for your affection.

"Why can't you love me? It can't be that hard..."

Remember Jesus loves y'all and he's the truth the way and will forgive and deliver us if we put our faith in him.♥

[bunnykoibito]

control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜

I'm yours, right?

[hana-no-seiiki]

sorry i havent posted in a while, been busy slaying at school!! anyways!!

yandere! stalker x unbothered! if not equally yandere! celebrity! reader.

like he sends you so many fan letters that are basically threats on how he’ll kidnap you and be the only one in your life. detailing the place he’ll take you from(and one you frequent). sends you pictures in your most vulnerable moments. SENDS YOU A PIECE OF YOUR HAIR (if you have any, if not then let’s just say he got some body fluid instead) saying that the scent has worn off so you can have it back.

AND WHAT DO YOU DO?

You write a song about him using his letters as inspo.

whole ass

reader: one way or another, i’ll have you all to myself~

stalker: oh that sounds so romantic . . . wait-

thank you blondie’s one way or another and @on-leatheredwings for inspiring me to write after 8267374832 years

[yummgoree]

[marshmallowdarling]

TW: Smut, like just absolute FILTH! MDNI! My second attempt at smut please be kind, this man has been eating my brain. 'Pretty' is used but no gender or gendered parts are used ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nanami Kento is a gentleman through and through and that doesn’t change when he’s drowning in his own possessive thoughts about you but even the nicest of men can snap after being pushed to the brink. 

Kento had delt with your multiple escape attempts with grace even after dealing with a migraine named ‘Gojo Satoru’ and idiotic co-workers at his dreaded desk job. So today should be the same shouldn’t it? He was practically counting down the days of your next escape attempt, knowing it would be coming up and making taking appropriate measures. 

So why was he feeling like this? Why was he feeling buzzing underneath his skin? Why was he restless? Why did he feel like his mind full of cotton and spinning at the same time? Why did it feel like it was impossible to breathe?

He’s always a gentleman, even when he pins you down on the soft bed, your body sinking into the plush surface as he rails you brain dead. 

Usually, he loves seeing your pretty face scrunch up in those cute little expressions but he has your front pressed into the sheets. Practically laying on-top of you as he drapes himself over your back making sure you couldn’t even think about running away from the pleasure he was drowning you in. 

Dirty sticky wet ‘plap, plap, plap’, sounds echoing the room as he fills you up so deliciously with deep, strong, slow strokes. 

You can’t even bring yourself to ask him to go faster because it already feels so good, the pleasure melting your brain leaving only moans and hiccupped cries to spill out of your spit-stained lips. It honestly feels like you’re drowning as he makes you take it again and again and again and again-

Whining out brokenly as you drool all over his thick veiny forearm, Kento keeping you in a headlock as he spews absolute filth into your ear in between his own groans. “There we go sweet thing, takin’ it so prettily for me-” His own breath hitches and his head tilt back just a little, blonde hair falling over his eyes. 

The deep moan he lets out hits you hard, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear as he presses kisses everywhere he can reach, on your cheeks, your neck, your shoulders. The soft plush feeling of his sweet kisses contrasting with his mean deep thrusts. 

His yanks his arm back tightening his grip, not enough to choke you but enough so you could feel the pressure. “No, no, no sweetheart- don’t run from it now.” A chuckle leaves his lips as your head tilts back, his eyes soaking up the absolute mess he’s made of you. Your eyes glazed over and knocked back, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth cutely as your mouth opens in choked out moans. “You’re taking it, I’m going to make you take it.” He growls out, a smirk pulling his lips as his free hand comes to hold your plush hips down, feeling how feverish your skin was. 

“The little brat just needed to get to get fucked huh?” Kento coo’s so sweetly its mocking, but the blunt lewd words coming from the usual stoic man makes everything feel that much more dirty. “Needed me to fuck those stupid thoughts right out of your skull huh love? You could have just asked instead of acting out baby.”

He lets out a low moan as presses sloppy kisses to your already sloppy mouth, drinking up your cries and tasting your salty tears dripping into both of your mouths. 

Kento’s tongue messily presses against yours as you try and fail to speak, only letting out a muffled “Hngh-” since he really and truly left you brain dead. Panting into his mouth you squeal when he tilts your hips up, jerking your body with his deep thrusts as he goes even deeper. Choking on a gasp as he pulls back to groan, thick brows pinches together as he feels you clench. “Ah- shit sweet thing, gonna drive me crazy for you.” He grits out, his breathing laboured as he feels himselfstart to get fucked-out, pleasure shooting up his spin and making him shiver.  The thought of Kento and Kento alone fills your head, his musky smell, his touch, his kisses, just HIM and his mind shattering thrusts as he fills out every spot even you didn’t know about. Your nails and teeth dig into the thick skin of his forearm, scratching and bitting pretty marks into the skin he would worship later as you feel the stupid amount of muscle and veins beneath his skin. 

Little ‘ah- ah- ah~’ moans falling out of you, you can barely hear yourself as Kento fuck’s you dumb, making your back arch in pleasure as your limbs twitch and jerk. You don’t even feel your orgasm, stuck drowning in the feeling of him, until it’s too late and it feels like he’s ripping you apart in the sweetest of ways. 

A wail leaves you as he talk’s you through it. “There we go- there we go. C’mon baby give it to me- yeah, I’m right here baby doing so sooo good for me.” He whispers in your ear as he pins your twitching body down harder, his forearm tightening the headlock around your neck as his other thick arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady on his cock. Not stopping his measured deep thrusts as you sob in pleasure, babbling out dumbly.  You claw weakly at his arm, barely able to kick your legs out as he puts his weight on you clawing feebly at his arm to try to push him away.  “Nu-uh baby.” He growls lowly ignoring your overstimulated cries, nipping pretty little marks on your neck that gets you moaning out lewdly. “This is your punishment- gotta make sure to drain all that energy out of you.”  

It’s a twisted punishment to him, he could never hurt you, he loved you. But he needed to show his love more hands on apparently, and if he could do that as well as making sure you were too tired to even think about running again than how could he not. 

Nanami Kento is a gentleman, what kind of man would he be if he couldn’t make his wonderful darling cum? 

[starscabaret]

Cowboy Yandere! Lane HeadCanons

pairing : yandere! lane x fem reader 

summary : HeadCanons !!!

authors note : lane will be so soft … or will he ???

yandere! lane has a cute southern drawl, he hates when you make fun of him for it

yandere! lane picks you up from any and everywhere in his pickup truck, he loves being your personal chauffeur

yandere! lane is constantly bringing you flowers he loves the smile it brings to your pretty face

yandere! lane uses one hand to grab your jaw to kiss him, he has to make sure those pretty lips stay put on his

yandere! lane has a bench seat in his truck so when he drives you around he can have you pressed to his side, he is always gripping your thigh while he drives or sometimes even placing your leg over his. He likes to be touching his darling as much as possible

yandere! lane loves to buy you jewelry, he sees it and he just has to have it for you !

yandere! lane is very very strong from working on farms and other manual labor throughout his whole life, no matter your weight he can pick you up like a baby

yandere! lane is a blue collar boy through and through he pays all of the bills, even if you try to help he leaves no room for argument

yandere! lane loves domesticity, he gushes when you wake up early to prepare him a lunch or coffee. If you’re too sleepy to wake up at dawn like he does for work he will kiss and hug your sleepy body while you sleep in bed, as he lays a final kiss to your temple he whispers “Love you, have a good day sweetheart.”

[obsessivel0v3r]

"My love, tell me you'll consume me entirely."

[yoru-no-seiiki]

“Lie to me, cheat on me, I don’t care. Just do your job and all’s fair.”

— yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x apathetic! reader

tw/cw: no smut, but this account needs a revive so… reader is gender neutral but i hc them as a dommy mommy. more headcannony than a proper story.

You met him after he managed to con one of your friends at work. Posing as this suave, nice guy, who happened to lack the money to support himself. The one time your friend finally put trust in someone else, that was the time it was completely broken. Turned to ash and bones.

You remember the night your friend came to you, eyes red-rimmed and voice trembling as they recounted the whole ordeal. How he’d slipped into their life so seamlessly, with that charming smile and easy laugh, only to hollow them out from the inside. Every word he’d said was carefully crafted, every gesture perfectly calculated to lure them into a false sense of security. And when they finally realized the truth—when the money was gone and so was he—it wasn’t just their savings he’d taken. It was their ability to trust, to hope, to believe in people again.

And so you decided to take him for yourself.

You remember the look of relief, and then recognition before it settled into confusion with the slight hint of derision.

He was perfect.

“If you managed to fool them, then you’ll do a good job fooling my own parents.”

You needed him. He needed you. It was the perfect agreement. His confidence was alluring as it was powerful. The way he turned heads just by being in the room. And the sex? Simply amazing. I mean, if he managed to make your prude of a friend to buckle then it must’ve counted for something.

Sure, the look in their eyes when you brought him to work one day was horrific. But they’ll get over it you think.

After all, you’d made your choice, and you weren’t about to apologize for it. Maybe it was reckless, maybe even cruel, but there was something about him that kept you hooked. The way he carried himself, all charm and sharp edges, like he knew exactly how far he could push before breaking someone. It wasn’t love, not really, but it was magnetic, intoxicating. Besides, your friend would move on eventually—people always did— it was the natural course of things. You told yourself it wasn’t your responsibility to mend what he’d shattered, even if the shame clawed at you every time their gaze lingered, silent and accusing. You shrugged it off.

But then suddenly he began to act nice? You could feel the gradual loss of his impassivity. How he suddenly became interested in what you were doing, saying and most importantly disinterested in the money you gave him.

“Don’t you get it—? I - I can’t believe I’m even saying this myself - but I love you. I fell for you. And I don’t even know why—“

“Stop.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. A puff of moisture blows through the air as seasons passed and winter has arrived. Frustrated that the one thing you had over him was now seen as no longer valuable. But then realized . . . , “You know what? S’long as it makes the job easier for you.”

With the last smoke from your cigar, you press the tip of it to his nose. Ash, skin and snow collide.

You thought it was better for the both of you. He could have the so called love of his life, and you could spend a bit less trying to keep him tied to you as long as he was useful. However, what you needed from him wasn’t just love, it was strength, not this blubbering piece of mess that kept stuttering the moment you two were left alone.

He was turning weak. Pathetic. Something you didn’t need nor want in a partner.

Too bad he knew you too well. He knew that you were going to leave him behind. He knew that he only had moments to waste before all of this would be over.

So on Christmas Eve, he plans it all out. The meal, the lighting, the music.

He did what he always did best—he made those moments count. His words were sharp, like knives carefully aimed to slice through your resolve, each one designed to remind you why you’d stayed this long. He painted pictures of what you’d lose, of how lonely it would be without him, and how no one else could ever understand you the way he did. His smile was bittersweet, a mask for the desperation lurking underneath.

And it ends with a cheer,

all of this so that he could drug you.

And at last, with a kiss to your lips he mouthed, “Happy Holidays.”

[Author’s Note] Reader definitely comes from a Mafia family of sorts.

[darlingsodivine]

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈- 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒖𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 15 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊��𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔- 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?

Please, why aren’t you answering me? D-did I do something wrong? I-I’m so sorry if I bothered you before, I didn’t mean to! I'm sorry!Please, I'll do anything to make it up to you, I swear...! Please, please please!

.......

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒅 𝒅𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖- 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕... 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆!

I- I can help you! I can buy groceries, I can run errands- I can even help you pay rent! I can't cook very well, but I'm good at cleaning! ...Please?

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒑𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎, 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈!

I-if you keep ignoring me, I... I’ll hurt myself. I’ll cut... I’ll take this knife and-and... I’ll carve your name into my skin... I swear it!

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒖𝒑 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒔 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐, 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒎, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕... 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒊𝒕, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒖𝒏𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓, 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒍𝒚.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒕.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅-

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒖𝒑. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒆𝒚𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒕, 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒑𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆.

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄!𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕,𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎!

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐.

Is this good? 😭

[ak319]

Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open)

[irisinluv]

“I’ll be ok, really!”

“You have strep, and are home alone.”

“Yes, and I’m doing an excellent job taking care of myself! I took myself to urgent care, got my meds, some jello and pudding, and I’ve got a page in my notes app for recording when I take my meds.”

“I’m on my way.”

“What!? You live three states away- I’m fine, really!”

“Just because you CAN take care of yourself doesn’t mean you SHOULD take care of yourself. I know you’re plenty capable, but you’re also sick, baby. I’ll be there in about 8 hours.”

“This is ridiculous. You don’t have to drive all the way up here- anyways, I don’t want you to also get strep!”

“I’ll wear a mask and my immune system is stronger than yours. Call me when you take your next dose of meds and make that notes page collaborative and then share it with me”

“Babe seriously…. You have work.”

“I can work remotely. I’ll sit at the desk in your room- that way I can watch you. Don’t think you’re getting out of this. I’m already in the car. Now, go take a nap, take your meds, take another nap, and then I’ll be there.”

“You’re impossible!!! ………..…. Can you at least bring me a sweatshirt if you’re coming to visit?”

“Already packed 2 and an extra bottle of my cologne in case the smell wears off.”

“ Ok…. Fine….. I love you.”

“Love you too baby. Get some rest. I’ll see you soon”

[hana-no-seiiki]

i read about this before in a quotev book and it was such an interesting concept but the author didn’t continue it. i’ll link their profile here in the future but for now have this.

YANDERE! FAN who has listened to all of your works as a YANDERE ASMRTIST (note: you being a yandere yourself can be a detail left up to interpretation)

They have detailed notes on each one. Basically that pepe silvia meme but for all your works.

They didn’t even mean to, but it eventually led to them finding out about your works before asmr and whatnot. And eventually, they found your account for irl activities.

YANDERE! FAN who slowly spirals into madness once they realize that they not only can’t sleep without hearing your voice but they can’t even go on for a couple of seconds without surrounding themselves with anything related to you. Your face, fanfics of you, etc etc.

YANDERE! FAN who starts uploading ASMR as well, heavily inspired by your works. Their passionate delivery astounds many listeners, granting them their own set of loyal followers.

YANDERE ASMRTIST READER who discovers yan’s existence cause the latter overtook you in popularity overnight.

ASMRTIST READER who befriends YAN! FAN in order to either ride off of their clout with collabs and/or to get some dirt off of your ‘rival’ and destroy their career

ASMRTIST READER who in the heat of their bloodlust and anger gives their most powerful performance yet during their collab, skyrocketing their career

It’s a shame you were declared missing just a week afterwards.

[yummgoree]

WHEN HE WON'T LET ME EAT HIM ALIVE

[marshmallowdarling]

Hi! I love reading your story's, can I request a yandere Hannibal x fem reader please?😊💕

It’s not surprising that Hannibal plays the long game but Hannibal also makes the game. 

It was easy for him to set up the game, almost laughably easy. He was a renowned therapist who helps police on cases, strong, smart, made a name for himself- a good name. Your parents didn’t even have a chance to have doubts when he came to ask for your hand in marriage. If anything your parents were elated, over the moon that you, the black sheep of the family, had the eye of a man like Hannibal. They practically threw poor little you to into his hands. 

One thing Hannibal likes is politeness, manners, and no matter when or how Hannibal had meet you he was struck with the need to understand you, figure you out and not in his usual killing urge type of way. After a few months or even years of following you around he finally realises what it is, love. 

Does he really think its love? Not really, its something deeper, more sinister than love. He would rip apart anyone that would try to hurt you, he wants to keep you safe with such feral intensity it’s not sane. But he himself can’t even breathe at the thought of hurting you himself either so he chalks it up with a simple word. Love. 

He should have seen it coming, really he should’ve since he had been watching and ‘protecting’ you for so long, but he’s still struck shocked when you fight back your holy matrimony with such pettiness and sass. You couldn’t stop your parents from practically forcing you to agree to marry him, getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t really care about, everything too grand and nothing like what the little girl in you envisioned. So, in retaliation you tried everything to get him to re-think his decision, anything to get him to divorce you, even if it meant being a sassy brat. Turning your nose up at his delicious food just to piss him off, doing little things you knew he hated just to push his buttons.

It’s cute, he thinks, really cute that you think being a brat would stop his heart from yearning for you so much his physically body aches being away from you. But you aren’t a brat, are you? Your just pretending because your sick of your parents stupid pressuring expectations, hating how they dictated every little thing in your life and now your ‘life’ partner. 

Every time you push and shove and take bits and pieces of his sanity it just fuels his obsession for you, every time he feels himself get frustrated or irritated it just makes him more head over heels over you. Staring at you with hearts practically in his eyes as you make his blood boil, he takes everything in stride. With a polite smile on his lips and insanity in his heart eyes. 

But he does feel bad, really he does, he feels bad that you have terrible no good rotten parents who are ready throw you to the wolves once they get their greed filled, or bad enough for a man who feels no remorse or guilt. Maybe its pity, he thinks, like how one looks at a wounded animal. But he could never see you at a level as an animal, no matter how adorably cute you are. Maybe a goddess then, a fallen goddess, he worships you as if you’re a goddess anyways, taking your sass and anger as some sort of twisted love from a holier being. 

He can’t help the feeling of amusement that bubbles up when he see’s you try to be a brat, but the manners engraved into your very soul peek out, like your body and mind are fighting on your decision to pretend to be mean when your really such a sweet nice darling. 

The little ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ that come out when you demand something from him or the sweet little ‘no thank you’ that you give him when you pretend to glare at him with faux hatred in your eyes, because you didn’t really hate him. How could you? He was unbelievably sweet and attentive, picking up on the little things you didn’t even know about yourself until he picks up on it. He was the best husband anyone could ask for, in and out, even if he could be a little serious, cold and calculative at times. Hannibal shields you from everyone, including your parents, shutting them down so quickly and efficiently when they start their bullshit of bringing you down it seems natural. 

And one day your fake anger towards him slips, your tipsy on alcohol and his love, its all consuming but it feels oddly soothing, like cool balm on an open wound. You stumble and almost trip, but his arms are already there to catch you, ready to do anything to keep you safe and without thinking you lean up and press a soft, albeit clumsy, kiss on his lips. 

Something in Hannibal snaps. The kiss, as quick and fleeting as it was felt like heaven. Like he was reborn, like for once in his life he could finally breathe.

You gave this dirty, blood-stained sinner a slice of heaven and now he’s your most devoted worshiper at your alter. For better, or for worse. 

~~

Hannibal has you pressed in a mean mating press, one of your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. The thin handmade anklet he got you for your wedding present, dainty and small, designed from start to finish by him with a little ‘H’ dangling on it chimes in his ear and makes his head spin. 

“I- god- I love you so much.” He groans out, sweat clinging to his brow as his messy blonde hair sticks to his skin. “Goddess." He murmurs into your skin, pressing his lips against your ankle, kissing all the way up to the side of your knee as he saours the way your skin feels on his lips. Pulling back he licks your sweat that smeared on his lips and he smirks. 

 His pupils are wide and blown as he gazes down at you with so much love and tenderness it hurts. Sweat clung to his muscular frame as he threw his head back, groaning so low you feel it in your tummy.

Your in worse shape than him, yourpractically writhing under him, not able to escape the torturous pleasure as he puts all his weight down onto you. As sweaty if not more than him, twisting and bucking and shaking, hair messed and sprawled out on the bed beneath you, eye brows knitted. Your breath being selfishly stolen by him as he takes and takes, gasps the only thing able to leaven you as well as broken keens and whimpers. You had long stopped trying to muffle your embarrassingly lewd noises, he had practically growled at you to let them out, not letting you hide anything from him. 

Sparks zing up your spine as he hits deep and a wail leaves you, your hand coming to push at his lower stomach, nails scratching over his muscles. Hannibal moans and his eyes roll at the feeling, quickly snatching your hand he slams it softly next to your head. His fingers entwining with his as he locks them together. 

Long deep slow strokes makes your brain melt out of your ears, brain gone all fuzzy as you get addicted to him and his touch. 

“Take it sweetheart, I know you can.” His breath hitches as he forces your thighs open wider to accommodate him, he looms over your more and the change of position makes you cry out. “Let me worship you my goddess, your mine, all mine.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Woo wee thats finally done! I hope my first proper attempt at smut was ok I think there was another ask for Hannibal but it was H/C's, I'LL GET TO YOU MY LOVELY I PROMISE 😭 Im trying to get back into writing but its hard, im sorry but I will get to you all. Some might be before others just because some things kick start my writing process 🥺 But please keep sending requests I love the ideas and support even if it takes me a bit to get to them. Hope you enjoy lovelies.

~Mwah ♡