#love a man with a special interest in shoes

[columboscreens]

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ young and beautiful ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x wife!reader headcanons

¡!being cho sang-woo’s wife and the mother of his children would include¡!

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! this story is set in one in which sang-woo did not participate in the squid game!

╰┈➤ you met cho sang-woo shortly after moving to south korea for university, a change that felt both exciting and overwhelming as you navigated a new country, culture, and language. he was older by over two decades, and already well-established, but what stood out was his willingness to help when no one else would. he was the first person to offer help, whether it was explaining local customs, recommending places to visit, or simply showing you how to get around the bustling city. over time, you found yourself drawn to his intelligence and quiet charm, while he couldn’t help but admire your determination and work ethic. though feelings grew between you, he hesitated to pursue anything. his age, his position, and the way others might perceive it held him back, until one evening, seeing you laugh with one of his business associates stirred an unfamiliar jealousy. it was that day he decided he could no longer let his doubts keep him away from you. one tentative date became another, and soon he realized he couldn’t imagine life without you. when he proposed, it was grand and heartfelt, affectionate words filled with sincerity and a shimmering marquise diamond ring that left you breathless

╰┈➤ as a senior banker at joy investments, he was a man of considerable wealth, known for his meticulous taste and generosity. when you began planning the wedding, he insisted that no expense be spared, telling you to choose anything your heart desired, venues, dresses, flowers, all of it. yet, you surprised him by requesting something modest, intimate, and elegant, surrounded by your closest friends and family. it wasn’t the lavish wedding he had imagined, but he agreed immediately, because your happiness was his priority. the ceremony took place on a lovely winter day, a serene snow-covered backdrop that felt almost dreamlike. you wore a gown of delicate lace and flowing silk, understated but breathtaking. as you walked toward him, for one of the rare times in your life, you saw sang-woo, your composed, polished husband, unable to hold back his emotions, his eyes misting as he whispered how fortunate he was to say you were his wife.

╰┈➤ his mother’s disapproval was the only dark cloud over your union. she pictured her son marrying someone more mature, someone of wealth and prestige, a perfect complement to his status. you, young and from a different background, didn’t align with the future she had foretold for him. sang-woo deeply respected his mother, but for the first time, he went against her wishes, defending you against her cruel insults and snide remarks. although, the tension was palpable, and to keep the peace, he made the difficult decision to limit how often the two of you interacted. though it hurt him, he believed protecting you from her criticism was more important than maintaining appearances.

╰┈➤ your honeymoon in paris was something out of a storybook, a city you had dreamed of visiting for years. he spared no expense, booking a suite with a view of the eiffel tower and planning luxurious dinners at michelin-starred restaurants. each charming outing was magical, from strolling along the seine hand in hand to sipping coffee at quaint cafés. despite your lack of interest in designer brands, he couldn’t resist spoiling you, filling your wardrobe with elegant dresses, shoes, and jewelry from the most exclusive boutiques. he loved seeing you wear them, the way they highlighted your natural beauty, and though material things never mattered to you, his joy in giving made you happy to indulge him. it was during that trip that you realized how deeply he cherished you, not for how you looked or the labels you wore, but for who you were and how you made him feel.

╰┈➤ domestic life began shortly after your marriage, a chapter marked by sophistication and routine. sang-woo continued his demanding career at joy investments, managing high-profile clients, navigating the complexities of stocks and portfolios, and keeping the firm’s reputation impeccable. you, on the other hand, settled into the role of a housewife. though you had earned your degree in literature, your dream had always been to live a life of comfort, dreaming to create a warm home and eventually building a family. the estate sang-woo provided was grand yet cozy, a blend of modern luxury and understated grace, perfectly mirroring the life he anticipated for you both.

╰┈➤ despite his serious and composed demeanor in the office, sang-woo was tender and loving at home. mornings began with him pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving for work, a soft ritual that made you smile. evenings were punctuated by tender affection, his arms wrapping around you while you cooked, his chin resting on your shoulder as he asked about your day. you became his sanctuary, the one person who could ease his troubles after the stresses of work. in your presence, he shed the weight of his career, revealing a side of himself reserved only for you. to him, you weren’t just his wife, you were his heart, his home, and the person who gave meaning to his otherwise complicated and burdensome life.

╰┈➤ yet, nothing in life was perfect. sang-woo’s devotion to his career often consumed him. he was a workaholic to his core, and while you admired his ambition, it came at a cost. late nights at the office became common, and he’d frequently stay later than expected with little warning, leaving you waiting at home, dinner cold on the table. business trips overseas became routine, and there were mornings when you woke to find his side of the bed already empty, a brief note on the nightstand apologizing for having to leave. the loneliness crept in slowly, settling akin to an unwanted guest in your posh estate.

╰┈➤ whenever you voiced your feelings, the conversations often turned heated. you told him how much you missed him, how the empty spaces in your life couldn’t be filled with flowers or jewelry, no matter how extravagant. yet, despite the arguments, his apologies always came, his voice soft and regretful, his eyes filled with guilt. he’d arrive home with bouquets of your favorite flowers or delicate pieces of jewelry that sparkled like promises, as though material gestures could mend the strain in your marriage. while you appreciated the thought, it wasn’t enough to replace his presence, the comfort of having him by your side. still, you stayed, believing in the love you shared and hoping that, someday, he’d learn to balance the life you built together with the career that often stole him away.

╰┈➤ it wasn’t long after settling into married life that you discovered you were expecting your first child. the news brought a visible change in sang-woo’s attitude and priorities. once so deeply consumed by his career, he began to shift his focus to you and your growing family. he cut back on his grueling overtime shifts, started declining overseas business trips, and even made the effort to reduce his smoking, something you had been urging him to do for years. suddenly, attending every prenatal appointment with you and ensuring you were comfortable and cared for became his top priorities. while his care was thoughtful, it sometimes bordered on overbearing, his constant checking on you, his insistence on preparing every meal himself, and his planning for the baby’s arrival left little room for you to so much as breathe. but his concern came from a place of genuine love and devotion, which made it impossible for you to be upset with him. he personally oversaw the construction of the nursery, situated just across from the master bedroom, carefully selecting every detail. though he openly expressed his desire for a son, you reassured him that you’d be happy no matter what, and deep down, you knew he would be, too.

╰┈➤ pregnancy took a toll on you physically, leaving you exhausted and often unwell, which only added to sang-woo’s worry. as your due date approached and the strain on your body grew, he made the decision to take paid leave from work to stay home with you. it was a rare and unexpected move for someone so career-driven, but to him, nothing mattered more than your health and the safety of your baby. he doted on you endlessly, even when you protested that you were fine. he rarely left your side during that final, difficult trimester.

╰┈➤ after nine long months, you gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby girl. the day he saw her, sang-woo’s face lit up in a way you had never seen before. you had worried he might be disappointed not to have the son he had hoped for, but all those thoughts disappeared the second he saw you holding your daughter. the exhaustion in his eyes melted away as he gently cradled her in his arms, overwhelmed by the sheer joy of becoming a father. to him, she was perfect in every way, and he promised to be the best father he could be.

╰┈➤ as time passed, sang-woo returned to work, though he made a conscious effort to balance his career with fatherhood. he rearranged his schedule to ensure he could be home in the evenings, often taking over baby duties to give you some much-needed rest. he would rock your daughter to sleep, bottle-feed her in the middle of the night, despite his initial clumsiness. seeing him so involved only deepened your love for him.

╰┈➤ for the first time in years, you saw sang-woo’s mother again. after the tension she had caused in the past, he had kept her at a distance to protect your feelings and sanity. however, for the sake of your daughter, you allowed her into your home. while her attitude toward you remained cold and judgmental, her demeanor softened the moment she held her granddaughter. she doted on the baby in a way that made the visit bearable, and despite her lingering disapproval of you, she seemed determined to be part of the child’s life.

╰┈➤ there were instances when your insecurities crept in, especially as you adjusted to motherhood. sang-woo worked with many beautiful and graceful women, and their flirtatious comments or longing gazes at him often left you feeling inadequate. but sang-woo, perceptive as ever, always reassured you. he’d tell you, in his gentle, earnest way, that no woman in the world compared to you. “they’re nothing to me,” he’d say, the two of you laying in bed, your head resting on his chest. he told you of how he would ignore their salacious advances with indifference. “you’re the only woman i see, the only one i want.” his words, paired with the devotion in his eyes, reminded you just how deeply he loved you, silencing any doubts you had.

╰┈➤ sang-woo adored your daughter, showering her with gifts and affection from the moment she was born. nothing was too extravagant when it came to her happiness, he filled her room with every toy imaginable, dressed her in designer gowns that sparkled like a princess’s, and even had a custom-built playground constructed in the backyard. though his generosity was touching, you often worried that this endless indulgence might cause her to grow up materialistic or take such luxuries for granted. when you gently brought this up to him, he would smile kindly and say, “i only want her to have the best.” despite his protests, you encouraged him to invest in her future as well, suggesting academic tutors alongside the dollhouses and dresses. he quickly agreed, hiring the finest educators to foster her growing mind, proving once again that he wanted her to have not just material wealth but a strong foundation for success.

╰┈➤ just a year after your daughter was born, you gave birth to a son, the child sang-woo had initially hoped for. this second pregnancy was far easier on you than the first, and while he didn’t need to take as much time off work, sang-woo was just as attentive and loving as ever. every evening, he would return home from the office, setting aside his briefcase to embrace you, his hand instinctively resting on your growing belly as if to remind himself of the life you carried. “i can hardly believe you’re real at times,” he would whisper, kissing your forehead with adoration. when your son finally arrived, sang-woo’s pride and joy were unmatched. though he was thrilled to finally have the boy he had dreamed of, his love for both his children could not be described in mere words, they were the light of his life.

╰┈➤ as the years passed, your life became a comfortable and fulfilling routine. mornings were spent preparing breakfast together, the sound of your children’s laughter filling the house, while evenings were reserved for family dinners and quiet moments in the living room. your daughter was preparing to start school soon, and the thought left you with mixed emotions. as a mother, it saddened you to see her take her first steps into the wider world, while sang-woo, ever the protective father, was filled with worry. “she’s still so little,” he would mutter, clearly uneasy about letting her out of his sight. meanwhile, your son, still too young for school, remained at home, following his father around the house with wide, admiring eyes.

╰┈➤ professionally, sang-woo’s career flourished. over the years, he had received numerous promotions and had become a well-respected name in his industry. he began to consider starting his own investment firm, an ambition he had steadily nurtured since his younger days. he often sought your opinion on the matter, valuing your insight as much as your adoring support. no matter where life led, you knew your place would always be by his side, as a loving wife and mother to the family you had built together. together, you and sang-woo had created a life of love and stability, one that neither of you would trade for anything.

a/n: let me know your thoughts or if you have any requests! also i promise more cho sang-woo fanfictions are coming soon, i am prioritizing requests as i write these for you all!! 🤍

[marasmadness]

Normal Thing || Emily Prentiss x Actress!Reader || Kinktober Fic 1

CW: Jealousy, secret relationship, drinking & smoking, high sex, oral sex (Em receiving), scratching, hair pulling.

Based on Requests (3) : “ I’ve never been forbidden before” line, Emily smoking/ sharing a blunt :)

Emily reached for the nearly empty wine glass beside her spot on the couch. The screen in front of her flashed to rolling credits and took away the glowing pictures that had dimly lit up her dim apartment. She was left in a dark, quiet apartment as she watched your name scroll by in white block letters.

Downing the last of her glass, she threw her head back against the pillow, trying to gain some relief from the pressure of jealousy pressing painfully against her head. Thoughts swarmed through her head as if she had hit replay on the movie in her head. Images of some man, a conventionally attractive one, even Emily could admit. More alarmingly, the thought of his lips on your neck, her girlfriend’s neck.

She knew it was happening. You had told her clearly and outright as soon as you found out your latest movie would have a love interest and that the romance was a key plot of the movie. She knew that the actions were scripted out, boring words neatly printed on white paper. And she knew that the actions were much more mechanical than sensual, despite how they appeared on a screen. None of this did anything to ease the angry heat that flooded Emily’s body as she watched the movie, miles away from where you were attending the premiere.You had gotten her special permission for your girlfriend to watch from home rather than attend with you because the two of you were a long-term secret to everyone except a select few. Emily had very few successful relationships before you; she wasn’t going to shove all her commitment issues under a spotlight too.

Emily knew you had followed through with your plan to leave as soon as the event was over when she picked up her phone to text from JJ. Just drove by your street to a crazy amount of paparazzi. What’s going on? I'm nosy.

Emily played dumb. I'm not sure, probably just someone high-profile passing through; we do live in D.C.

Sure enough, no more than seven minutes later, Emily heard your key turn in the lock as you slipped into the stark quietness of the apartment. Emily took in your appearance as you turned the corner, glowing in a silky dress, heels in your hand, and slightly out of breath from taking a long loop around the apartment complex to ditch the cameras before you entered. Emily’s envy cooled slightly, staring at your flushed face and bright smile as you approached her. Tossing your shoes on the floor, you draped yourself over your girlfriend, leaving a smear of lipstick on her neck as you pressed your mouth to her pale skin. “Hi love, what’d you think?” You murmured softly against her ear, grinning as a wisp of her hair tickled your nose.

You shrieked as she suddenly pulled you flush against her, her hands grabbing at the flesh of your ass of the thin silk of your dress. Flailing your arms out in front of you, you caught yourself with your hands planted into the cushions of the couch, just above Emily’s shoulders. She remained silent, eyes glued to you as she framed your chin with her hand, running the pad of her thumb across your bottom lip. “You didn’t answer my question,” you said softly with a tilt of your head. “Did you even watch it?”

“Of course I watched it,” she replied defensively. Occupied with running her hand across your collarbone until the spaghetti strap slipped off your shoulder, revealing the curves of your breasts.

“Then why aren’t you saying anything? You didn’t like it?” You pouted slightly. She was always honest about everything with you, mostly. If she couldn’t say it to you, it must be horrendous.

“No, of course not.” She grabbed the back of your thighs, dropping you onto your back on the couch. “You were excellent, stunning. I just didn’t like that man’s hands all over my girlfriend,” she groaned, a low husk present in her voice. Her lips twitched into a brief grin as she flipped your dress up to your waist, grabbing your ankles as she pressed her lips to the soft flesh of your stomach. Your hand spasmed out beside you, sending something clattering to the ground. You shot up at the noise, peering over the edge of the couch. “What was that?”

“Probably nothing, anyway.” Emily reached her hand back out toward you, but her rushed dismissal already had you curious.

You swept your hand along the ground until it brushed against an object small enough to hold in your palm. Bringing it closer, your eyes recognized the cherry-red outline of a lighter. You slowly swiveled your head toward your girlfriend, close enough to see her eyes dart back and forth in the dark. “I thought you quit.”

Emily leaned back against the pillow, spreading out across from you. “No,’ she drawled. “I retired, meaning I can always return to smoking an occasional blunt if I so choose to.”

“Mhm, is that right?

“ Oh, come on, I can hear it in your tone. I work in the FBI; I see, hear, and work with the whole “Danger of Drugs” presentations and cases all the time. I’m not stupid with it; one blunt is not going to kill me."

“Good for you, my turn. I work in the film industry and also see it all the time, except I’m the one being offered said drugs at least once a job.”

“Stopping you right there, that’s different. You’re being offered lines of coke with unknown origins. This is just-”

That's not the point. I’m talking about the concept of the point.” You spoke with your hands, flinging your hand out toward her for cutting you off the first time.

She grinned, catching your wrists. “What are you forbidding me?” She purred, slipping her hands underneath the slit of your dress, gripping your hips tightly. “That’s adorable. I’ve never been forbidden before.” Emily leaned into you, smirking against your skin. “Maybe you need this more than me. Might loosen you up a little…” Her voice went singsongy as she pressed her pointer fingers and thumbs into the base of your neck, massaging in circles.

“I’m shooting a new project at 5 am tomorrow.”

“All the more reason to. You relax, you can fall asleep, and you go to work. “I’ll do it with you. For your benefit, of course,” she added with a sly grin.

“Fine, but when I'm done, you're done.”

“Deal.” She scrambled upright, plucking the lighter from your hand as she climbed on your lap until her legs were tucked around your waist. “Does this usually require you to be on top of me?”

“Um, who’s the expert here?” She replied with the same level of sarcasm in return. You laughed softly as she adjusted in between your legs to be able to reach over you to the end table. Taking the opportunity presented to you as she pressed her breasts flush against your body, your hands slipped under her pajama shirt, fingers running up the slope of her toned stomach. When she lowered herself back down onto your lap with a blunt and lighter in hand, she slipped the t-shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere beside you.

“Hold,” Emily commanded softly, placing the end of the blunt between your lips as she flicked the lighter. The glowing orange flame in the small space between you illuminated your faces in the dark. With carefully steady hands, Emily lowered the flame down toward your mouth, her face scrunched until she finally saw the blunt light up.

“Don’t suck in; you’ll have a coughing fit. Deep breath, then let it go.” She placed two fingers to your lips. A small tickle scratched the back of your throat, and Emily took the blunt from your lips to her own as you exhaled. Much more comfortable, Emily took a drag and added to the soft cloud of smoke between you. Passing it back and forth, you eventually ended up sprawled out between her legs, resting your head on your stomach as she laid against the arm of the couch.

Slithering over onto your stomach, you wrapped your arms underneath her legs, gently resting your chin on her lower stomach. Looking up at her through your lashes, Emily clocked the gleam in your eye immediately. She asked anyway. “What do you want?”

“Midnight snack?” You suggested with a tilt of your head, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“There’s stuff in the kit-’” She lost her speech as you toyed with the strings of her pajama pants.

“But you’re so much closer, you murmured, sliding her clothes down to her ankles.

“Fuck,” she managed to pant out as you pressed your lips to her folds. Her head snapped up, and glossy eyes now followed your movements lustfully. She tangled her hands in your hair, running her nails across your scalp before she tugged it up into a makeshift ponytail. Your lips parted with a sharp inhale as she tugged enough to make your neck tilt slightly back before guiding you back down between her legs, where arousal glistened from her slit. “Quit teasing.”

You obeyed, wrapping your lips around her clit. Emily dropped her head back, placing the momentarily forgotten blunt back in her mouth where she held it loosely between her lips. Flattening your tongue against her cunt, the brunette's hips jolted, grinding down onto your mouth. With her gasp of pleasure came a cloud of warm smoke that lingered over your head.

Her eyes devoured you hungrily, tracing down the arch of your back and curve of your ass as you ate her out. Watching Emily’s fingertips dig into the cushion, you knew she was close. Swirling your tongue in circles around her clit you felt her shudder against you, shaky breaths bursting into gasps and strings of curses. Her thighs quivered, pressing against your ears as she came so that you could feel the warm, excited rushing sounds of your own body. Collecting her juices on your tongue, you came up from between her legs with glistening lips pursed in a satisfied smile.

Sliding up on top of her, she grabbed your chin, pulling your mouth down to her own. As she engaged you in a furiously messy kiss, she dragged her nails down your exposed back before grasping at the flesh of your ass.

Both of your bodies jumped up slightly in sync with each other as a sharp knock interrupted your hazy post-sex makeout session. Emily scrambled up as you did, hastily gesturing for you to sit back down.

"Emily, you're naked. You can’t answer the door.” You pulled the straps of your dress back up, running your hands quickly through your hair. Emily looked around anxiously, biting her lip as you headed for the door. “Shit wait, love.”

Too late. You opened the door to an immediately started blonde, mouth frozen open just as she was about to speak. She looked from you to the address numbers nailed into the door, even though she had been to Emily’s place for plenty of dinner parties and girl nights. The route was engraved into her memory at this point. Then her eyes swept back to you, and her face went slack with recognition and shock as she processed your frazzled state and who’s apartment entryway you were standing in.

She stuttered, peaking around the door as if any moment Emily was going to come around the corner and yell surprise or JJ was going to wake up from her own dream. Emily did in fact come around the corner, but wrapped in a sheet with smudged eyeliner as she heard her friends stutter, “Oh my god.”

Letting herself in, she closed the door behind her, dragging Emily by the arm. “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, are you sleeping with a movie star?” She whisper-yelled

She turned to you as if their conversation wasn’t happening three feet away. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“JJ” Emily cut her off, covering her eyes by resting her head in the palm of her hand. She struggled to come up with a coherent response, eventually looking up, looking slightly lost as her gaze went back and forth between the two of you.

JJ squinted, scrutinizing your faces in the dim light. “Wait, are you both high? Emily groaned as you giggled, horribly attempting to cover the laugh with your hand over your mouth.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down JJ, and let me go get dressed. Why are you here?”

“I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour. We have a new case. We’re supposed to take off in an hour.” She walked backwards as she talked, still distracted by the situation at hand.

The back of her knees hit the corner of the couch, and she turned forward, facing just as Emily pivoted around on her heel with a hurried shout. “Wait, not there!”

JJ’s eyebrows furrowed at the suddenly urgent command before her face went slack with realization. “Oh my god, Emily.”

[honeyed-nothings]

To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw

Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC

Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia | Special

Leona Kingscholar

𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.

𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.

𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.

𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.

𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.

“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Ruggie Bucchi

シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.

シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.

シ Wait a minute.

シ Nah…nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.

シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.

“You-…you’re really choosing me?”

Jack Howl

ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.

ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.

ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!

ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.

ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.

“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”

[red-doll-face]

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

-

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

-

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,” You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

-

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

-

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

-

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,” You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

-

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad…it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

-

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

[jorrated]

Redid my Maya Knux gijinka! Now with notes and sources on how I did the design (It's kinda long, around 2k words jsyk):

The hairstyle:

Knux has pretty long spikes, so I knew I wanted to give him long hair! Braids or dreadlocks look pretty fitting, so I tried looking for references of hairstyles to see if any fit what I was looking for:

Source: Mayavase.com (Photograph by Justin Kerr)

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=1092

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=1453

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=694

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=1340

While all the vases show a variety of interesting hairstyles, I particularly loved the look of the braids in K694 (the third picture). Being tied upwards wouldn’t really fit Knux however, so something like the man in K1340 (fourth pic) with his hair fully down, or the 5th man from left to right in K1092 (first pic) with a cloth holding the hair would be really nice!

I didn’t want to give him a headpiece, if only to not clutter his head, but also I didn’t think it’d fit Knux as a warrior. The ruler’s headpiece in K1453 (second pic) however allows the hair to come off it, and seems to have some dangly adornments on the end of the strands/braids/locks, which I found super pretty. Plus:

“Elite Mayan men and women styled their hair to show off their pointed heads, crafted through the careful head flattening they experienced as children. Women gathered their long hair on top of their heads in flowing ponytails. For special occasions they braided their ponytails and decorated them with ornaments and ribbons. Mayan men grew their hair long but burnt the hair off their foreheads to accentuate their elongated profiles. They would bind their hair into one or many ponytails or tie it in a bundle on top of their head. Mayan slaves had their hair cut short as one visible mark of their inferior status.” p.399

Source: Fashion, costume, and culture: clothing, headwear, body decorations, and footwear through the ages (Sarah Pendergast and Tom Pendergast, Sarah Hermsen as Project Editor), 2003.

https://archive.org/details/fashioncostumecu0000pend/page/n5/mode/2up

Taking all of that! I settled on tight braids with a few adornments made of jade and wood, with a red cloth to keep his hair from his eyes. Almost all of the braids are pulled together into a ponytails, but there are some smaller braids loose.

It’s somewhat of a mixture of styles, combining ornaments of special occasions, with the long hair of elites on a character like Knux. But I kept these ‘contradictory’ aspects of the design to remember that Knux kinda learns about his ancestors on the go, through murals, writings and technology, so I doubt he’d have a great grasp on what he should and shouldn’t wear. I think it adds character as someone who’s trying to figure out himself, his history and his place in the world.

Shoes and Accessories:

For footwear I kept it simple, just turned Knux’s existing shoes into sandals:

“Ancient Aztecs and Mayans of Central America adopted a thick-soled sandal with a protective legging attached at the heel, while the top of the foot and shin remained exposed.” p.135

Source: Encyclopedia of Clothing and Fashion (Valerie Steele), 2005

Although my gut instinct was to cover Knuckles from head to toe in accessories, I also tried to keep it simple like the shoes. He’s a very mobile fellow so he can’t have too much weight or annoying bits flying everywhere and getting in his face. So I kept his moon necklace, like in Fleetway, just adjusted the shape to have a bit more of details:

“The jewelry worn by the Mayan, Aztec and Inca people was rich in variety and quite beautiful. Without metalworking skills, Mayans made jewelry from many materials. Mayan men wore nose ornaments, earplugs and lip plugs made from bone, wood, shells and stones, including jade, topaz, and obsidian. Necklaces, bracelets, anklets and headgear were made with jaguar and crocodile teeth, jaguar claws and feathers.” p.402

Source: Fashion, costume, and culture: clothing, headwear, body decorations, and footwear through the ages (Sarah Pendergast and Tom Pendergast, Sarah Hermsen as Project Editor), 2003.

https://archive.org/details/fashioncostumecu0000pend/page/n5/mode/2up

As stated here, Mayans didn’t have metalwork, so I imagine this is an artifact that his ancestors got from another group of people.

Just a page before they also mention how the Maya people used to file points into their teeth, to make their mouths more appealing. This includes shaping them into pointy teeth, (like the classic shark teeth), but they could also file them into other shapes, like in this picture:

Source: https://www.archaeologynow.org/blog-3/blog-post-title-two-txwxl (I’m pretty sure this isn’t the source of the image, but I couldn’t find an actual source that wasn’t an uncredited blog)

The Maya people are also notorious for their good dentistry, as seen the stone ornaments in the teeth above. I think the filling is something Knux could do on his own, but anything that would involve actual dentistry would be too much. But it’s still interesting to read about!

(Here’s an article named “Mayan Esthetic Dentistry: Using Modern Techniques and Digital Imaging Technologies to Link the Past to the Present” by Yassine Harichane if you want to learn more!)

While a non-permanent version of stones on teeth seemed cool, like Jade incisor-coverings, at the end of the day I don’t think Knuckles is too vain, so I didn’t add that to the design. Although I think he’d definitely try out a bunch of things like this, just to try to understand them.

For additional outfits I gave him a red layered cape and a green huipil! The red cape is just to bring back more red into the design, since I gave him a lot of green. And the huipil is a nod to his poncho in the comics! (Although huipiles are commonly associated with women and girls, I still wanted to give him one, not only to bring up his partial detachment to his ancestors, but also because Knux probably wouldn’t think much about gender in general let’s be honest)

Source: Mayavase.com (Photograph by Justin Kerr)

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=638

Somewhat based the red cape on the 4th man in this picture, from left to right, but I kept it simple, as maybe just some fabric Knux found around the island, nothing too fancy.

For the huipil I wanted to do something more detailed but was having a really hard time coming up with designs. And I didn’t want to straight up plagiarize someone’s else work, so I kept it vague, maybe some day I’ll sit down and give it a more detailed version. I did come across a very nice store/ catalog that sells traditional Maya textiles, and this one was very gorgeous! Highly recommend give this and the other textiles a look!

In the end I made the huipil look vaguely like the ones shown in page 128 of the following book:

“In the Museum collection, costumes that looked very much alike usually turned out to be from villages that shared a language. Among Cakchiquel villages, dialect differences were usually mirrored by costume differences. Working on this principle we were surprised by the striking similarity of style in the huipils of San Antonio Aguas Calientes (fig. 195) and San Martín Jilotepeque (fig. 196). These villages, while both Cakchiquel, spoke very different dialects and were separated geographically (map, below). The similarity of their huipil was so remarkable we felt the need to investigate these two villages more thoroughly and found that a multi-cultural history probably accounted for these unexpected similarities of style. Huipils from these villages may well illustrate the earliest examples of pan-Maya acculturation after the Conquest.”p. 127

Source: Threads of identity: Maya costume of the 1960s in highland Guatemala (Patricia B. Altman, Caroline D.West), 1992.

https://archive.org/details/threadsofidentit0000altm/page/n7/mode/2up

Lastly on accessories, which I don’t know if it counts as an accessory but I didn’t know where to put it: the body paint. Last time I gave Knux a human design I couldn't find a good resource on Maya people painting their bodies. Every source mentioned and was in consensus that some of the people did paint their bodies, but that was the extent of the info. I wasn’t able to find any patterns or meanings of the body paintings, or even good visual reference for it. But! This time I was able to get a bit more:

“Body painting was a common Maya practice. Classic Period murals and polychrome vases depict warriors covered with red or black paint; sometimes their bodies were striped with red paint. Paint was also used around the eyes and nose to give a fierce expression. In the 16th century, these practices continued. Women also applied red paint to their faces and bodies, but presumably to make themselves look beautiful, not fierce. Small paint jars of red hematite mixed with mica were found in the houses at Cerén, and these may have been for cosmetic use. Unmarried young men painted their bodies black, and so did those who were undergoing periods of ritual purification and fasting. Priests often wore blue body paint. “p. 338

Source: Handbook To Life In The Ancient Maya World Lynn (V. Foster), 2002.

Source: Mayavase.com (Photograph by Justin Kerr)

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=2800

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=2573

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=7996

I of course wanted to give him red paint, and I really liked this design of the red lining the cheeks on the face down to the neckline. However in most of these depictions the red on the body is accompanied by the white face, which I can’t actually tell if the face has white paint, or the body has black paint, like described in the quote before. Either way I chose to only use the red, to keep in line with Knux’s original design.

(It’s worth mentioning that these vases shown depict rulers, as you can see the intricate thrones and altars, which isn’t really fitting with Knux. But again, I want to keep some mismatched aspects into his design, not only warrior-related things.)

The main outfit:

Last but not least, the main outfit. Don’t have much notes on this I’m going to be honest, I just tried to keep in line with descriptions of warriors clothing:

“While some warriors may have been resplendent on the battlefield, the common Maya soldier fought with little clothing other than loincloth and body paint, based on battle scenes in the few Maya murals that remain (see figure 2.9, page 54).” p.147

Source: Handbook To Life In The Ancient Maya World Lynn (V. Foster), 2002.

I considered putting him in a loincloth for accuracy, but tbh I was scared people were going to be weird about it, and so I gave him a skirt with some fabric that emulates the look of a loincloth and some scrap fabric around his waist and limbs! He actually ended pulling up a lot from the dude I mentioned in vase K1092 (the very first ref pic in this post) lol!

And that´s all, hope y’all liked it :P

[shanieveh]

call me, "lover boy" !

—how the genshin men won your heart

princess treatment—thoma, DILUC, kazuha, tighnari, zhongli, albedo, scaramouche, ALHAITHAM

It doesn't matter what your gender is he will treat you like the princess you are. Tying your shoes, princess carries and comforting head pats, the moment he tells you that he loves you he will show how much he does. You are his everything, and with all he is doing these past few days its not hard to fall in love with him.

It is very clear and obvious how much he treats you differently, how he wipes the chocolate in your mouth and carries a spare each time you need one. It might take you just a few days to tell him how much you love him too.

being your best friend—bennet, KAVEH, thoma, childe, gorou, chongyun, AETHER , heizou, venti

Since the dawn of time, you have been inseparable team. Even as you both branch out to your own jobs and aspirations he still mantained a great impact in your life. He can't let go. And it seems you like it best that way.

He was there at your every break up and every confession of love for a person that wasn't him. It was pure torture. He was through every step of the way and now... you realize he was more than just a brother, he was you shield, your strength and the love of a lifetime.

make you feel special—baizhu, kaeya, ZHONGLI, dottore, albedo, KAVEH, ayato, alhaitham, dainsleif

Every day with him feels like you were a delicate oyster that came from fresh waters. He holds you so dear and puts you above every mortal being. The way he treats you, with flowery words and creations made just for your liking. It was not hard to fall for a man like him, however strange and mysterious he was.

It is easy to tell when he treats someone different—when he treats someone special. How he spends his days wooing you so visible to everyone. He wants them to know, how he is not available for the other people. He was only to be in love with you. Only you.

overly dramatic gestures—scaramouche, ARATAKI ITTO, kaeya, xiao, PANTALONE, dainsleif, heizou, venti

At first you received an interesting parcel of chocolates in the middle of the night, and then artworks, and then clothes. You question him about and he openly admits its from him. The next he openly says how much he is in love with you as a somber opera of romeo and juliet plays in the background. It may be professional, unintentional or just some silly people trying their best but it made the message clear.

It doesn't really help his reputation for how dramatic he is willing to go, but you find it very endearing. You appreciate every single one and maybe, just maybe you are ready to confess how much you love him too.

[deckedcards]

. . . I THINK I’M LIKING HIM MORE, HE DOES THE THINGS I NEVER ASK FOR

⌗ PAIRING: shuntarō chishiya x male! reader

⌗ SUMMARY: chishiya, the cold-hearted and reckless troublemaker of the school has seemingly had his eyes stuck on a certain nerdy boy that always carelessly walks around his area of the place.

⌗ THIS WORK INCLUDES . . . lowercase intended, third person pov, no borderlands au, high school au, fluff, tiny bit of angst, short fic, delinquent! chishiya, nerd! reader, reader kinda has a nonchalant personality, secret relationship, mentions of bullying, fighting, mentions of harassment, chishiya being protective over reader, unintentional slight yandere! chishiya, kinda obsessed chishiya, stalking, reader is the same height as chishiya, hopelessly in love chishiya, reader likes what he’s doing, i wrote chishiya to have the same appearance as nijirô’s character in tokyo revengers “kazutora hanemiya,” includes some inaccurate stuff about japanese schools, a little inspired by yandere simulator, possible grammar and wording mistakes ❨ not proof read ❩

⌗ EXTRA NOTES: this came to me when i saw an edit of nijirô in the tokyo revengers movie soo shoutout to the person who made that i guess😀😀

⸺ A CALMING SCHOOL BELL echoed loudly around the building, multiple students taking the things from their desks and rushing out of the doors desperate to go home. chishiya stood flat against one of the walls, ignoring the people taking cautious steps near him. the feared delinquent of the school is the reputation he’s made for himself here.

starting fights with random students that would ever accidentally brush against him in the hallways resulting in said students having their faces be beaten and disfigured to the point of no return. forcing people against their will to participate in fight clubs and make bets on their failures, making some of his friends do his dirty work whenever he wasn’t in the mood to handle something, never batting an eye whenever girls got harassed by his friends. the man showed no remorse for his actions, his face always set into a poker expression as a tiny kitten smile grazed his lips. he only hung around a few people, the rest of his “gang” and a girl named hikari kuina, one of the gyarus at this school.

chishiya kept his head low as his bangs covered the top of his eyes, searching for a specific pair of shoes that would walk past him. his eyes shined as he found them, straightening his posture as he trailed behind the person he was waiting for, (name). this man was special to him, he felt a sense of priority in protecting him. (name) was a nerd, always getting good grades and getting scored at the top of his classes, he was the perfect punching bag for someone like chishiya. but thats not what he wanted from him, no. (name) was the only person that didn’t fear him at every waking moment, he didn’t care if chishiya or his friends were some big bad entity, he treated them like they were just regular students at this school because… they were!

and thats what chishiya favored about him. the boy served zero interest in getting involved with him, he didn’t care if he walked through the hallways of his unassigned part of the school, the part where all the delinquents would hangout. the part which was also coincidentally where a shortcut was made to cut through the rest of the school and get to classes faster.

chishiya sat with his legs crossed ontop of a heater box, he picked at his nails as his ears gathered up the sounds of two boys getting beaten by some of the people in his group. pleads were heard as he raised his hand to scratch at his scalp, dark hair getting twisted up as he thread his hands through it. the lunch bell rang, he saw students from across getting out of their classes and walking towards the cafeteria, all of them avoiding his hallway. him seeing some people hurriedly grab their friends as they made sudden mistakes of taking a few steps at the end of it.

this was a regular occurrence, him observing people as they sent him fearful stares and instinctively quivering in their shoes this worsening especially when he planted himself in different areas of the school. developing fears of any of the places that he’d be able to hide in. corners, closets, corridors, classrooms, the garden or swimming pool that were placed behind the school, anything. sudden gasps and whispers of different students filled his eardrums as he turned his neck to glance at what was happening, a figure was coming his way.

a boy with glasses and a resting bitch face trudged through like a model, his unbothered body language shined through him like a flashlight. chishiya examined him throughly, he was about the same height as him, white shirt unbuttoned slightly and exposing the tank top underneath it, his uniform blazer was held in his arms like a coat hanger as he adjusted the bag with multiple keychains on his shoulder. a lavender aroma hit his nostrils like a grenade, the scent calming down any type of tension that was set in his body.

chishiya watched as he stepped over the bodies of the boys on the floor, them and their bullies stared at him in confusion as he continued to walk away, not sparing any glances at anyone that hung around the rest of the corridor. chishiya quirked his eyebrow as one of his friends looked at him, looking for any signals in his face to go after the guy. he shook his head as he got down from where he was sitting sticking his hands in the pockets of his pants as his eyes glued onto figure before glancing away as he rounded a corner, leaving his imprint on everyone’s gaze.

ever since that encounter chishiya became more excited on the inside as he waited for the man’s presence to pass by him in the halls. he found out his name was (name) when he “decided” to attend one of the schools assemblies. of course, like always, (name) was there too as he walked up to the stage with someone that was apart of the staff announcing an award for him. chishiya observed him throughout everything, walking into school, going to class, eating lunch, passing through the building, looking at him through the windows of his classroom while he was sat near the wall and squatting down whenever (name) felt his cat-like eyes on him, even following him home to ensure his safety and just his safety (definitely not because he wants to know where the person he loves lives and watch over him incase something happened to him.)

“how long are you gonna keep following me for?”

chishiya stepped out of his dazed mind, blinking slowly as he saw (name) with his body turnt towards him hands on his bag and glasses rested ontop of his head, “follow?” chishiya repeated, pushing his lips out as he thought of a lie to say, “i’m just trying to go home like everyone else,” (name) raised one of his brows, did he think he was that stupid? acting like he didn’t know about the shadow that chishiya always left on the places he visited. the figure he always noticed standing outside of his window at night that had the same similarities of his silhouette. the way chishiya prevented his friends from causing harm to him, threatening them if they ever had thoughts of trying to do what they regularly did to other nerds in the school.

all the jealous stares that chishiya sent his way whenever (name) held the quivering hands of his friends as he guided them through the passageway, wishing that was him in their place and not them. he didn’t wanna admit it but chishiya’s actions made his heart flutter a bit, (name) wasn’t liked throughout the school, especially with how “perfect” his image was. people attempting to use his intelligence in ways to benefit themselves, sending scowls his direction and spouting insults at him accusing him of sleeping with his homeroom teachers and the principal to get where he was now.

his careless attitude kept all of this from straining his heart, continuing to do what he did best and enjoying all the praise adults sent his way. (name)’s always been advised in avoiding the delinquents or anyone that could tarnish his reputation and strain him from his academics, but how could he do that when chishiya was just so cute?

him and his sharp cat features, the dyed black and dirty white hair that suited his skin tone so well, his dark tattoo that covered the side of his neck and the tough exterior that prevented him from showing others what he was really feeling at times. (name) knew there was more to chishiya then how he made himself to be, a kinder and sweeter boy that cared more about the lives of others and his own ideals.

(name) hummed as he kicked a fake rock away from his shoes, “that’s what you said yesterday,” he said stepping closer to chishiya as he spoke, “and the day before that and then the day before that one and the week before that,” (name) brought his hands up to hold the sides of chishiya’s face as he saw his lip corners curving upwards, “how long are we gonna have to keep this up for?”

the air shifted as the two sought comfort in each other’s eyes, chishiya leaning one of the sides of his face into (name)’s gentle warm palm, “until we get out of here,” he sorely replied watching as (name) exhaled through his nose and shifted his gaze to the floor beneath them, “it’s our last year here, only a few more months and we’re gone,” chishiya said bringing up his hand to cup one of (name)’s as he nodded.

(name) leaned forward to press a small kiss onto the man’s pink lips, redirecting his right hand to play with the dangling earring on chishiya’s earlobe as his saddened expression made itself more visible the moment he spoke up, “just, don’t keep me locked in your heart until then…” he mumbled tearing away from his lover trying to ignore the way chishiya frowned as his body spun away from him, only leaving chishiya to stand in the darkened light of the place as his face tried desperately to cling onto the feeling of where (name) had left his touch.

© @deckedcards 2025 all rights reserved ☆ please do not repost, translate, copy or share my work on other platforms without my permission, thank you.

[luminiamore]

WORSHIP.

cult leader geto x black jujustu sorcerer reader

a/n: based on that lil snippet ^

warnings: heavy exhibitionism, cockwarming, he’s such a gentle man, mentions of suicide, joker and harley type beat without the domestic violence, hints of yandere, ya’ll worship each other and therefore people worship you, married asf with kids, creampie

2.1k words.

masterlist

Suguru’s interest in you has been unusually intense since he was a student at Jujustu Tech. Without a doubt, you were beautiful. But unlike those around him, you were also quiet, calm, and collected. His approach to you was pure curiosity, without any malice. He was curious about you, your thoughts, and your mannerisms. 

However, you rarely paid him any mind, thinking he was just trying to increase the number of girls he sleeps with. So, he made it possible for him to coincidentally be everywhere you were; you surely couldn’t ignore him that way. 

You were getting some mochi downtown? That’s crazy. He was just picking up some for his best friend at the same spot. He did tell you he really likes sweets. You were shopping for a new pair of shoes at the mall? Realizing his pair is worn out, he’s checking out the section opposite yours. He was there to end your fight when you got tossed around by some special grade, so you couldn’t even go on a mission by yourself. He was impossible to ignore.

He couldn’t understand exactly what it was, but he wanted to be around you more than he cared to admit. Despite you being a first-grade sorcerer, he would use the excuse of “protecting” you. His group, Shoko, Utahime, or even the proclaimed strongest, Gojo Satoru, weren’t close to you. Until he defected, he deliberately kept you away from them. They only knew you as the girl he loves— his words.

You eventually fell for Suguru, and you fell hard. He didn’t catch you, but he fell with you, for you. Suguru made it a point to call you whenever possible, even though you were not part of the Riko mission. Upon his return, you felt devastated as he was distressed by the possibility of losing his best friend. Distressed at the possibility of not seeing you again. That frightened him the most. You witnessed him losing himself, having sleepless nights, and even attempting to end his life. You were always there for him, fixing him tea and listening to his ideas.

Being with Suguru was something you became open to, and with the way you were always around him, everyone thought you were. He never put a title on.. whatever the nature of your relationship was. But you never really saw him with any other girl except for you, and he would take care of any sorcerer who tried to get close to you. At some point, you recall asking him why he does it, and the only response he gave you was,

“You have me.”

You didn’t bother to ask what that meant, thinking that he would give you another cryptic answer or simply send you a sleazy smile. But in more ways than one, you realized that you did have Suguru. He was a person who provided. He never missed an opportunity to care for you, buy you your favorite things unexpectedly, take you out for dinner, and even carry you like a princess just because. 

You never inquired about the reason; you just offered him a kiss on the cheek as a gesture of thanks. Suguru liked it when you did that. Your soft, glossy lips always had a nice feel on his skin. The basis of your relationship changed when he asked you to kiss him on the lips as a thank you instead.

“R-Really?”

His ears are pierced by your soft voice. Your beautiful eyes were always on him as he sat on the flatbed in your dorm. You had the box in your hands of the necklace that you had been admiring while you and Suguru were passing by a jewelry store. The price tag was a whopping $6,000, so it wasn’t cheap. That’s why you walked away after staring for about ten seconds. He didn’t, though. The next morning, he made a single phone call, and the necklace you were eyeing made its way to your doorstep that same day.

“Really.” He grasps your gentle hands with both of his hands, dropping the box carelessly on your bed. 

“I never want to force you to do anything.” You had a genuine belief that you would follow Suguru to the end of the earth. You were steadfast in your devotion to him, even before he became a cult leader. You have reason to believe that you were his first devotee. Your love for him was undeniable, which is why you didn’t hesitate to bring his lips to yours for a gentle peck.

Suguru didn’t anticipate the sweetness of your lips on that day, nor did he anticipate how he would crave the sensation of them every second. He was unaware of how addictive you could be because, honestly, you two didn’t stop at just a peck. One turned into two, two turned into five, and five turned into an impromptu make-out session on your mattress.

It was the first night that he showed you pleasure beneath the layers of your clothes. The first night, he showed you exactly what you do to him. The long-haired man showed you ecstasy that was unmatched by any other. Before anything else, he prepared you by slobbering all over your pink clit and fingering you so hard, so deep, that you squirted at least three times on his awaiting face.

And when he finally forced his dick inside your wet hole... It was like a paradise on earth, you swear. You could feel every vein of his cock brushing against the deepest parts of your core. He reaches so deep, his cock basically drilling into your bruised cervix. His drooling lips sucking at your perfectly manicured french tipped toes. Every time he fucked you, which was almost every day, it was like this. They all carried out the same action, whether it was a slow thrust or a quick, desperate one. 

He’s grown addicted to the feel of your cunt, to the faces you make when he’s fucking you. Suguru has tainted you and transformed you into a being who would do anything for him. He never forgot to express that you did the same for him. The day he killed his parents, he came to you with two little girls, scared shitless and clinging onto his kāṣāya garment over the black yukata robes. And when you asked him what happened, he only told you, 

“These are our children now. Don’t worry, we will have one of our own soon. I promise, my love.”

You knew about Suguru’s plans to eradicate almost 95% of the world’s population, but you didn’t think he would actually go through with it. You should have left and probably ran away from this man when he showed you what he did. But you couldn’t, too devoted and blinded by love. So, you followed him and watched him create an operation where people worshipped his entire being. That’s what should have been the case.

Suguru was never without you. He made his followers kiss the ground you walked on, just as they worshiped him. You were given respect, love, and even admiration. For almost ten years, your life consisted of being taken care of by your lover, being devoted to humans, and taking care of your four children. Suguru did end up giving you the children he promised you. He was content with his life as it was, and honestly, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. His happiness was made possible by you.

Take today as an example, it marks the anniversary of Suguru putting a shiny blood diamond on your finger. The temple’s blue curtains are being blown by the wind while the birds chirp. Your bare body rested on Suguru’s lap, facing forward. His cock impaled you while you were sitting on him, creating a stream of pussy juice that dripped onto the floor. Your soft thighs were spread wide over his legs, restricting you from any movement. Such an intimate position should undoubtedly be shared only by the two, but it wasn’t. 

Far from it, in fact. There were 20– maybe 50 people kneeling with gifts in their hands, in front of your lover, in front of you. You were too consumed to pay attention to them, too full to do anything but whine out beautiful cries that echoed around the whole compound. It was impossible for anyone to not know what was happening. 

For some time now, he’s been laying his cock inside of you and refusing to move. Suguru’s view was of your sparkling back, soft, and with a tattoo of his name if he shifted his gaze slightly lower. He didn’t have to see you to know how beautiful you look right now, and of course, he didn’t have an issue telling you.

“Such a gorgeous girl. Gets you wet knowing these people would die to fuck you, doesn’t it?” He squeezes your fat tits, pinching one of your nipples, causing you to let out a squeal. He continues on with a raspy voice,

“But they can’t, can they? And they never will. Why is that, sweetheart?”

You whine, grasping at his thighs because you just want him to move. The pressure of his fat cock inside you makes you desperate for the intense fucking that only he can give you. But your man doesn’t want that as an answer, he wants to hear your angelic voice, so he slaps your clit as punishment. 

“B-Because m’yours!” It seems you said the right answer, or maybe Suguru was finally getting as desperate as you are because he slowly starts moving his dick in and out of your tight cunt. He takes his time moving his hand so that the next visitor can come forward and present their gifts. Just to keep up with his image. He doesn’t bother looking at them, believing that anything that’s not from you is a waste. Utter trash.

He kisses the side of your cheek and whispers in your ear, tone desperate and pleading, “All mine. Tell me you love me, and only me. Please, I need to hear it.”

He paces himself slowly inside of you to avoid ruining you in front of these ’ monkeys.’ You lean your head back against his neck, your nails tugging at the hair you love so much. His throat tightens with a groan when at the action, fuck. You really don’t know what you do to him. 

Despite being pushed a little past your limit, you manage to steady your voice so Suguru can hear your following words clearly, “Love you, baby. I’ll only ever love you.”

Regardless of how many times you tell him this, it always manages to make Suguru’s heart race. He can’t believe you’re all his. Such a goddess that you are. Fuck, he could cum right here, right now, inside your dripping cunt. Since he flushed out your birth control after your first pregnancy, you wouldn’t need much to get pregnant. His brain is racing with the prospect of your tits swelling with milk and your belly rounding to carry his offspring.

He groans when the image runs through his mind, and now Suguru has a new mission. “What about another baby, hm? I’ll take care of you, just like I did the last two times. Won’t have you lift a finger, sweetheart. Please.”

His pace speeds up a bit, and the thought of seeing you like that is causing his mind to reel. Your tight pussy squeezing around him was as if you were attempting to milk his cock for all it’s worth. On the other hand, you were anticipating your lover would say something like this. You were nodding your head in his shoulder before he finished his sentence.

“P-Please! Whatever- Anything you w-want.” You tremble, completely ignoring the people still kneeling in front of you. Close enough to see, but just far enough so your juices won’t reach them. They are not worthy of any inch— any spec of your sweet wetness. You hear Suguru’s whimper as his finger sneakily reaches your swollen clit, gently rubbing tight circles around it. 

“That’s what I love to hear, baby. I love you so fucking much, so fucking much. I love you, I love you-” You moan out, your pussy squeezing infinitely tighter around him as you squirt all over the empty space between you and your devotees. The feeling causes Suguru to release a deep moan as his balls churn and his thick cum pushes past your womb. Fuck, it’s so much. There’s no doubt that it reached your uterus. 

Your lover isn’t convinced, though, so he immediately stands holding you in a bridal position. He walks past the crowd, leaving them there while his cock and cum are still out and dripping from your sore pussy.

“Think I need to pump you full again. Make sure you really get pregnant, yeah?” The only thing you can do is nod and mentally prepare yourself for the night ahead of you.

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 8

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2609 Click here for Part 7

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

“Are you sure about this?” Y/N asked quietly, her eyes searching Lando’s. “It’s a big deal for Noah to be seen by so many people.”

Lando nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “I know, baby. It crossed my mind too. But remember, all the viewers are online, they’re not here in person. Noah’s going to be in the safest place he could be: right here with us.”

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. “That’s true. I just want to make sure he’s comfortable.”

Noah, sensing the slight worry in his mom’s voice, looked up at both of them, his big eyes curious but calm. “Lando, are we gonna play games? I wanna go play games now.”

Lando’s smile softened visibly at the boy’s excitement. “Yeah, buddy, we’re going to. Remember, some people will be watching us online but you’re gonna be amazing.”

Noah’s grin spread wide at that and Lando felt some of his nervousness ease. He was always protective of Noah and Y/N and this was a big step, letting Noah be seen by his fans in a stream instead of through paparazzi photos but he knew it was the right move.

Max suddenly appeared in the doorway, breaking the moment with his usual playful energy. “What’s with the serious faces? You two look like you’re about to send Noah off to his first day of school or something,” he teased.

Lando chuckled. “It kind of feels like it.”

“Look, guys, relax,” Max leaned against the doorframe, giving them both a confident smile. “Noah’s going to have a blast. Plus, the fans are going to love him, they already do.”

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed a bit and she smiled at Max’s reassurance. “You’re right. And he’s with you two, so I know he’ll be okay.”

“Exactly,” Max grinned and clapped his hands together, “now, let’s make this the best Quadrant video yet. Noah’s got some races to win!”

With that, they all headed into Max’s gaming room, ready to share this special moment with the world and stream another video for Quadrant. The room was lit with colorful LED lights and Max, as always, was cracking jokes, trying to get Lando to break his serious face. “Come on, mate, smile for the camera. Your fans are here to see happy Lando, not ‘I just lost a race’ Lando.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this started before you start doing stand-up comedy.”

They did their usual intro, with Max hyping up the video and Lando chiming in with his signature laugh. “So today, we’ve got a special guest. Someone who’s been dying to make his debut on the channel,” Lando said, glancing off-camera with a grin.

Max leaned in with exaggerated curiosity. “Ooh, who could it be? Is it Daniel Ricciardo? Oh, wait, no, he’s probably too busy drinking from a shoe.”

Lando laughed loudly and shook his head. “Nope, even better. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the real star of today’s video, Noah!”

At that moment the boy ran into the frame, beaming with excitement. He was wearing a tiny Quadrant t-shirt that still nearly drowned him but it only added to his cuteness. 

“Hi!” Noah said, waving at the camera with both hands.

Lando leaned down to his level and ruffled his hair. “Noah here is going to show us how it’s done today, right, buddy?”

“Oh no, Lando, I think we’re outmatched,” Max was dramatically pretending to be defeated, “Noah’s going to wipe the floor with us!”

Noah giggled and climbed onto Lando’s lap. “So, Noah, what’s the plan? Are we going to play some racing games?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I want to drive the fast car like Lando!”

Lando grabbed a controller and handed it to Noah. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, little man.”

The trio began playing and it quickly became clear that Noah was more interested in crashing the cars than actually winning the race. Lando and Max were in stitches, watching Noah’s car flip and spin out on the track. 

“That’s one way to take out the competition,” Max said, barely able to contain his laughter.

Lando, still laughing, leaned into the mic. “I think Noah might be a future F1 driver, he’s already got the daring part down!”

The more they played, the more the chat in the livestream exploded with comments from fans. 

“Oh my gosh, Noah is so cute!”  

“Lando’s so good with kids, this is adorable.”  

“Quadrant needs to hire Noah full-time!”  

“Protect Noah at all costs!”

Lando glanced at the chat and smiled. “Looks like the fans love you, Noah. What do you think, should we make you a permanent member of Quadrant?”

Noah, focused on crashing yet another car, looked up and nodded without really understanding the question. “Yeah!”

“Well, Lando, I think we’ve been replaced,” Max shook his head with mock seriousness. “Quadrant is now Noah’s company.”

After the race, Lando hugged Noah tightly and spun the chair around, both of them laughing while going in circles. “You did great, buddy!”

Noah grinned and hugged Lando around the neck. “Thanks, Lando!”

As the video wrapped up, Lando and Max said their goodbyes to the viewers, promising more fun content soon. 

“And don’t forget to like and subscribe if you want to see more of this little guy,” Lando said, gesturing to Noah, who waved at the camera with a big smile.

Once the camera stopped rolling, Y/N, who had been watching from the sidelines, came over and lifted Noah into her arms. “You were amazing, sweetheart,” she said, kissing his cheek.

Lando wrapped an arm around her, looking at her and Noah with a fond smile. “He was a natural. The fans loved him.”

“Well, mate, looks like you’ve got some competition for the fan-favorite spot.”

Lando chuckled at Max’s comment, watching as Noah cuddled up to Y/N. “Yeah and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

_____

As the day began to wind down Max and Noah were still thick as thieves, chatting and playing games like they had all been best friends with each other for years. Max, always one to keep the fun going, leaned over to the 4-year-old at some point and said, “You know, Lando and I like to go golfing sometimes. We’ve got a bit of a rivalry going, though I usually win, of course.”

Lando laughed and rolled his eyes but before he could protest Noah’s eyes widened with interest. “Golfing? That sounds fun! Can I come with you guys next time?”

“Absolutely you can,” Max grinned, clearly loving the idea. “We should make it a thing, the three of us hitting the golf course together. You can even drive the golf cart.”

Noah’s face lit up at the thought of driving the cart but before he could get too excited, Lando chimed in with a teasing grin still giggling. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second! Noah, you can’t even ride a bike yet. How are you supposed to drive a golf cart? Or swing a golf club?”

Noah puffed out his chest, determined. “I can learn! I bet I can hit the ball really far!”

Max chuckled, giving Lando a playful nudge. “Come on, Lando, he’s got the spirit! Besides, if he’s half as competitive as you he’ll be swinging like a pro in no time.”

“Alright, alright. But don’t come crying to me when he outdrives you.”

Y/N, who had been listening from the kitchen where she prepared dinner for all of them, joined their conversation. “I think it’s a great idea. It’ll be fun for all of you and who knows, maybe Noah will surprise us all.”

“What do you say, Noah? Ready to take on the golf course with us?” Max looked down at Noah with a wink and the boy quickly nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll show you both how good I am!”

Lando shook his head, unable to keep in a quiet laughter. “Alright, but you’re going to need some practice first. Maybe we’ll start with mini-golf and then work our way up to the big leagues.”

“Deal,” Max celebrated, “and when he’s ready, we’ll have the ultimate showdown. Just don’t be too upset when Noah beats you, Lando.”

_____

Lando was looking forward to a rare weekend off and today was special for another reason, it was the first real “Boy’s Day Out” together with Noah and his best friend Max. Ever since the conversation about golfing came up Noah kept asking Lando when they would go - and today would be the day.

The morning started with Y/N getting Noah ready for their big day. She had picked out the perfect outfit for the occasion: a tiny, crisp white polo shirt, beige shorts and a little cap that she carefully placed on his head. She even got him new white shoes and a tiny golfing glove, making Noah look like a mini version of a professional golfer.

As Y/N led Noah into the hallway where Lando and Max were waiting, the two friends were in the middle of a playful debate about who would win the mini-golf game but the moment they saw Noah they both fell silent, their jaws dropping in unison.

Lando was the first to react, breaking into a giggle. “Oh my God, look at you,” he exclaimed, crouching down to get a better look. “You’re like a mini Tiger Woods but way cooler!”

Max, usually the more composed of the two, was completely taken aback. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mate, this is too much. How is it even legal to be this cute?” He looked at Y/N, pretending to be stern. “You’re going to give us a heart attack dressing him like this.”

Y/N laughed, clearly pleased with their reactions. “I couldn’t resist. He wanted to look just like Lando and Uncle Max today.”

Noah, basking in the attention, gave them a big, proud smile. “Do I look cool?” he asked, spinning around to show off his outfit.

“Cool? You’re the coolest kid ever,” Lando said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “I think you’re gonna win just because you look so awesome.”

Max nodded vigorously in agreement. “Seriously, Noah, we don’t stand a chance. You’ve already won in the style department.”

“But don’t think we’re going easy on you just because you look like a superstar,” Lando leaned in, giving Noah a mock-serious look but the boy only giggled, lifting his little golf club as if ready to take on the world. “I’m gonna beat you both!”

Max placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “I think I’ve just been challenged by the world’s cutest golfer. This is going to be tough.”

Heading out the door Lando and Max kept sneaking glances at Noah, still in awe of how adorable he looked. It was clear that the day was off to a fantastic start, with Noah already winning their hearts before even stepping onto the course.

Noah’s eyes lit up when they arrived a short while later and he was bouncing with excitement, gripping his tiny golf club tightly.

"Look, Lando! I’m gonna beat you!" Noah declared, grinning up at him.

"We’ll see about that, buddy. I’ve been practicing,” Lando just chuckled while Max, carrying a bag of snacks Y/N had packed for them, gave Lando a playful nudge. "Practicing, huh? You really want to win this, don’t you?"

"Just trying to make sure Noah has a good time."

Max winked. "Sure, sure. Let’s see if you can handle the pressure."

The first few holes were a blast. Noah was surprisingly good for his age, managing to hit the ball with surprising accuracy. Max and Lando cheered him on and every time Noah made a good shot, he’d turn to both of them for a high-five.

At one point, they reached a tricky hole that had a loop-de-loop. Noah struggled with it, unable to get the ball to go up the loop. After a few failed attempts, he looked up at Lando with big, frustrated eyes.

Lando crouched down next to him. "Hey, it’s okay, Noah. Want me to show you?"

Noah nodded eagerly and Lando quickly positioned himself behind the boy, softly putting his hands over Noah’s to show him how to angle the club just right. With Lando’s help Noah finally got the ball through the loop and he jumped up and down with joy.

"I did it! I did it, Lando!"

Lando’s heart melted. "You sure did, champ! Great job!"

Max watched the interaction with a grin. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, mate. Noah’s a natural."

Noah was having the time of his life, tackling each hole with determination. He was especially fascinated by the windmill obstacle, which he insisted on conquering without any help. Lando and Max stood off to the side, watching Noah as he lined up his shot, his little tongue poking out in concentration.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Lando said, chuckling affectionately.

Max nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he watched Noah’s intense focus. “Yeah, he’s a great kid. You’re really good with him, you know.”

Lando glanced at Max, then back at Noah, who was now carefully aiming his putt. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that, actually.”

“Oh?” Max turned to him, eyebrow raised. 

Lando took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I’m serious about Y/N, Max. Like, really serious. I never thought I’d say this so soon, it’s only been almost a year but…I’m thinking about a future with them.”

Max’s eyes widened in surprise but then he smiled, clapping Lando on the back. “Wow, mate, that’s big. I mean, I knew you two were close, but…a future?”

Lando nodded, his gaze still on Noah, who had just managed to get the ball through the windmill. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. They mean everything to me. Y/N, she’s incredible and so supportive of me and my career and Noah…he’s like this little light that brightens up everything. I want to be there for them, I want to be the guy they can count on.”

Max looked at Lando, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “Have you talked to Y/N about this?”

“Not yet,” Lando admitted. “I want to. I just…I’m trying to figure out the right time, the right way. It’s a big step, you know? But I’m pretty sure about what I want.”

“Well, mate, I’m happy for you,” Max’s grin widened and he gave Lando another hearty slap on the back. “And I know you’ll be a great dad to Noah if that’s where this relationship is heading. Just make sure I get to be the best man at the wedding, yeah?”

Lando laughed, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought. “You’ve got a deal.”

They finished the course with Max and Lando neck and neck in the score but it was clear who the real winner was - Noah. He had the time of his life, running between Max and Lando, chattering excitedly about how much fun he was having.

On their way back to the car Noah reached up and took Lando’s hand.

"Can we do this again sometime?" he asked, looking up at them with wide, hopeful eyes.

Lando and Max exchanged a glance, both smiling.

"Of course, buddy," Lando said. "Anytime you want."

Max nodded in agreement. "We’re always up for some more mini-golf madness, right, Lando?"

"Definitely," Lando agreed, giving Noah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

_____

Click here for Part 9!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Secrets ♡

♡ Pairing: sugar daddy!yeosang x chubby!fem!sugar baby!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: It's your anniversary and everything's going wonderfully with the man of your dreams until you're forced to spill a secret you've been hiding for a long time. You've always wanted a family with him but never pushed the issue, knowing it's something he wouldn't be interested. But you might just be surprised what he's willing to do and how eager he is to do it.

♡ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♡ Warning: discussions of pregnancy/motherhood, breeding kink, nipple play, unprotected sex, fingering, rough sex, yeosang has some dom vibes at time, spanking, pet names (mommy/daddy/baby), hair pulling, creampie, and that's about all.

♡ A/N: I wrote this as a request for @rems-writing who I adore to pieces. I really hope that I did justice to your request, my love. It was really fun to write and is only worsening the fact that Yeosang is wrecking me these days so thank you for that.

In the beginning things were different. Yeosang was your sugar daddy. He was there to spoil you beyond your wildest dreams, giving you everything your heart desired. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. In return he got you, however and whenever he wished to have you. But overtime, as all things do, the situation grew more complicated than either of you planned.

One day you woke up to find that you weren’t reaching for your phone to call him about the newest pair of shoes you had your eye on, you just needed to hear the sound of his voice. And Yeosang found himself caring less and less if seeing you led to anything sexual. He was more than happy to simply have you in his arms.

You both had, against all of your better judgment, fallen completely in love with each other. It’s been 3 years since you both broke down and admitted this was far deeper than something transactional. 3 years down to the day that you decided to truly be together and neither of you have regretted it for a moment. 

Staring lovingly at your gorgeous side profile as the two of you navigate your way through the crowded lantern festival, Yeosang can’t imagine ever regretting being with a girl like you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. With your hand securely held in his, he feels like he’s got the very center of his universe in the palm of his hands. That’s why he did everything in his power to make this anniversary special for you.

There was the breakfast in bed that he spent all morning whipping up himself. The shopping spree that almost cleaned out your favorite store. A four course meal at a lavish restaurant overlooking the water. And now a starlit walk through a breathtaking lantern festival where gorgeous neon sculptures illuminate the night. You stare at them in awe the same way you have every single thing he’s placed in front of you today. You’re sincerely happy and that’s the only thing he wants in this world. 

“Yeo, look at that! Isn’t it beautiful?” you beam, dragging him over to a tree sprinkled with dozens of fluorescent cherry blossoms. They twinkle overhead, bathing you in a soft pink light that makes you glow. You’re so ethereal in his eyes that he doesn’t even care that you nearly yanked his arm off to get him over here. 

“Yes, it’s beautiful, baby,” he laughs, his voice soft and deep. You’re the cutest when you get like this over things and he can’t help but be tickled when that childlike excitement comes out. 

“And what’s so funny?” you frown, your nose wrinkling adorably. 

Despite a half hearted attempt at holding it in, your bratty nature only makes him laugh harder. “You’re just so cute. I can’t help it” he says, pulling you into his arms and attacking your cheek with the sweetest of kisses. 

“Kang Yeosang, you’re being a very bad boy right now” you giggle, spinning around and straight into a kiss on the lips that has you blushing so hard your cheeks are heating up. 

He leans into your neck, lips tickling their way up to your ear. “I can be much worse,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Feeling your mind stray to places a little too obscene for public, you pull away from Yeosang and find a tiny human staring up at you with tears in her eyes. 

“Mommy!” a girl no older than 4 or 5 cries, tugging on your dress. She’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen with her teddy bear and her pigtails. It breaks your heart to see her crying. 

“Hey, honey. Did you lose your mommy?” you ask, kneeling down to comfort her. Now face to face with you, she realizes that you aren’t her mommy and throws an even bigger fit. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetie” you coo, patting her on the shoulders. She throws herself into your arms and you automatically wrap your arms around her, letting her know that she’s safe with you. Your gaze darts to a panicked Yeosang for help. You know kids aren’t really his thing but you could use the assist right now. 

Yeosang peeks at her over your shoulder and smiles in a goofy way that gets a giggle out of her. “Everything will be okay, sweetie” he reassures her, “We’ll find your, mommy.” Patting her on the head, he takes off into the crowd in search of her mom or a worker who can help. 

“That’s Yeosang, he’s a great finder” you say, balancing her on your hip like a pro. “I like your dress by the way” you throw in, noticing that you’re both wearing the same light green sundress only her version is much tinier and much more adorable. You figure this must be how she got you confused with her mom. You had no idea this dress was so popular when you brought it. 

Fascinated by the discovery, she begins to play with the fabric of your dress, her curiosity shifting to the shiny silver earrings dangling from your ears. They’re one of the many gifts that Yeosang surprised you with for your anniversary. As she marvels at the way they sparkle, the giggles overflow from her and your heart flutters. 

It’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to Yeosang but you’ve often wondered what it might be like to walk around a park like this. Yeosang by your side and a little one bouncing on your hip, giggling her life away. You’d love this more than anything that comes with a price tag but it’s a dream that you gave up long ago.

Yeosang made it clear from various throwaway comments he’s made over the past 3 years that kids aren’t in the cards for him. And, no matter how much it pains you, you have to accept it. Instead, you keep your dreams to yourself and cherish precious moments like this where you get a taste of motherhood, however faint. It’s bittersweet but sweet nonetheless. 

“Pretty” the little girl says, fidgeting with one of your earrings. 

“You like them?” you ask, smiling gently, “They were a gift from—”

“Sophia!” a woman yells, racing over to you with Yeosang not too far behind. Your suspicions were correct. She’s wearing the exact same dress as you with the added accessory of a few tears. 

“See. I told you he was a good finder” you whisper, handing her over to her relieved mother. 

“Honey, I was so worried,” the mother pants, struggling to catch her breath as she squeezes her daughter tightly. 

Yeosang returns to your side, placing a hand on your waist and giving you a look of admiration you’re too distracted to notice but it’s there. 

“Thank you so much for looking out for her” the mother says, laughing when she notices her daughter still holding onto your dress, “I think she likes you.”

Your face lights up at the adorable gesture and you pinch Sophia’s cheek playfully. “I like her too. You be good now, Sophia.”

“Bye!” Sophia waves, finally letting go of your dress. Her eyes are still glued to you as her mom mouths another silent “Thank you” and the two head off back to where they came from. 

You linger there for a moment, swirling in thoughts of what motherhood might be like. You’ve pushed it to the back of your mind for so long that you’d forgotten how deeply you yearned for it. It’s enough to keep you lost in thought until Yeosang takes your hand, snapping you out of it. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, knowing perfectly well that it isn't. You can’t hide your feelings from him, even if you think you can. When something’s upsetting you he can feel it. He knows your heart’s breaking. 

“It’s…it’s nothing” you say, setting your sights on another sculpture a good distance away. “Why don’t we go check that out?” You tug at his arm but this time he doesn’t let you drag him an inch. 

“Something’s wrong. Talk to me” he pleads, his face as serious as you’ve ever seen it. Yeosang’s typically playful and gentle with you, seldom showing his stubborn side but it’s out tonight and you know that arguing with him is a lost cause. 

You sigh, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact, “I can’t really talk about it here.”

“Then let’s go back to the car. We can talk there, okay?” He isn’t asking as much as he is telling you what’s about to happen.

It’s his turn to drag you along as he maneuvers you through crowds of families and lovey dovey couples to get to the car. All the while your stomach’s doing backflips at the thought of telling Yeosang the truth. You promised long ago that you’d always tell each other the truth, no matter how afraid you were, and you’d deal with the rest together. It’s a promise that you’ve never broken, not even for the smallest thing, but tonight lying seems more appealing than ever.

By the time you make it into the car your mind’s already been made up that he’ll leave you for this. Your 3rd anniversary will be your last one all because you couldn’t get over one silly thing. 

“So,” Yeosang says, the silence dancing between you becoming almost unbearable, “Are you gonna tell me what happened back there?”

He watches you with the kindest eyes and your heart breaks even more. This may be the last time he looks at you like that. You take a deep breath, soaking it in, your heart still toying with the idea of lying. 

“I want to be a mother” you blurt out, unable to keep it bottled up any longer.

It’s simultaneously terrifying and relieving to have that off of your chest after holding it in like a sneeze for the past 3 years. “I know you don’t want kids and I’m okay with that, I really am. It’s just that when I’m around kids like that, sometimes I…I don’t know.” You begin to tear up and Yeosang places a comforting hand on your leg. 

“Who said I didn’t want kids?” he asks so softly you almost think that you imagined it. 

“Uhm, you?” you sniffle, your bottom lip quivering. “You said that all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess of everything.”

Yeosang pulls his sleeve down, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Baby, I didn’t mean it that way. Well, I did mean that but not in that way. Yeah, all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want a family with you.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. If it’s not what you want it’s not what you want.”

“Look at me” he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I would love a family with you. Not because you cried but because that’s what I want. I just downplayed it because I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Oh my gosh, do I want it?” you say, perking up at the mere thought of it. “Tiny versions of us running around the house would be the best thing ever. Imagine going shopping for their little clothes and the family vacations. It’d be so cute. You’d make such a good dad, Yeo.”

There it is again. That childlike wonder that always brings a smile to his face. “And you’d make a wonderful mom. I only wish you would’ve told me sooner. I want a life with you and everything that comes along with it. Promise me you’ll never doubt that again.”

Yeosang extends his pinky to trap you into the legally binding pinky swear. You hook your pinky into his, rolling your eyes at how silly he can be. “I promise.”

“Good. Now here,” he says, handing you the aux cord, “Talk about it more when we get home?” 

You nod, skeptically taking the cord. It’s not his willingness to hand over control of the music to you that has you skeptical. Let’s be real, you always control the music anyway. What throws you off is how laid back he’s acting when he knows that you can read him as well as he reads you.

The entire ride home there’s the ghost of a smile on his face, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, as he nods along to your music like the conversation never happened. But the wheels are turning in his head, he’s thinking about something and not knowing exactly what is eating you up inside. 

Did he really mean what he said? Is a family really what he wants or was he just trying to please you? You once again recall your pact not to lie. It goes both ways and you have to trust him to stick to it. Still, as you pull into the driveway and he leads you up the stairs of your shared home, you feel in your gut that there’s more to it than he’s leading on. 

“Is now a good time?” he asks once you’ve made it safely into the dimly lit living room. 

You turn around, eyeing him curiously, “Is now a good time for what?” 

Yeosang steps towards you, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. “You said you wanted to start a family” he says, his eyes scanning over how well that dress fits your curves, “So tell me, is now a good time to start?”

“Yeosa—” you’re saying but your words are cut off by his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you passionately, his hands hungrily massaging your figure through your dress. Your head spinning from the kiss, you stumble backwards, finding yourself pinned between your boyfriend and the wall. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this” he confesses, hands slipping under your dress to massage your plush ass. “To just fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.”

His words set your body on fire, every fantasy you’ve had about this very moment flooding your brain. “Please, I want you to fill me up so badly. I need it” you beg, palming a bugle that only tightens with your desperate pleas.

“Fuck, baby” he groans, drowning you in another kiss. Locking his arms around your waist, he sweeps you up and takes you to the couch where you take control, straddling him as you grind down against his clothed cock. 

The heat between your bodies is as intense as the heat between your thighs, your pussy growing wetter by the second. Yeosang trails kisses down your neck, gripping your thighs to spread your legs wider. Your stiff clit bumps the strained zipper of his pants and you let out a moan pretty enough to taste.

“Fuck me” you whine, hips rocking, desperate for more friction. 

“Already?” he teases, dipping two fingers between your legs to stroke your leaking slit. Your panties are so drenched the cotton feels like velvet. So smooth and so saturated with your juices that his fingers just slide across them. 

“I want to know how wet you are first” he says, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Show me.” 

It takes every ounce of willpower to pull yourself off of him but you manage, standing up and turning around so that your ass is poking right in his face. Yeosang tears your dress up, kissing one of your ass cheeks while his free hand slaps the other. The sting makes you jump but the kisses are heavenly. A delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Bend over” he whispers, tugging your panties down as you bend over in front of him and spread your legs apart for him.

A sudden shyness overcomes you when you realize how exposed you are. At the same time your nipples stiffen against your bra knowing how hard he must be getting watching your cunt drip for him the way it does. 

His fingers meet your slit again and he hums in satisfaction, collecting your arousal on his fingertips. He pops them inside of you and you cry out, pressing your thighs together to feel them even better. 

“You’re clenching so tightly around my fingers, baby. You need to be bred that badly?” 

“Mmhmm” you gasp, fighting to stay upright as he spreads his fingers, scissoring in and out of your core. Your thighs are getting wetter and wetter,  your juices leaking between them the faster his fingers fuck into you.

Yeosang runs his tongue along your thighs, licking up the arousal that leaks out from around his fingers. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do. Use your words.”

“I want to have your babies. I want you to breed me” you moan like a melody and you’re snatched right back down into his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you before your brain has time to register it. 

Bringing your back flush against his defined chest, he thrusts into you with enough force for you to see stars. He’s feral, determined to ravage you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve had sex with him hundreds, if not thousands of times, up to this point but this time is so different. It’s the first time you’ve felt him raw inside of you and it’s pleasure beyond anything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

You feel everything. The head pulsing and leaking each time he bottoms out. The blood rushing through the veins that travel along his length, twitching when  you clench, swallowing him deeper. Behind you Yeosang’s losing his mind at how perfect your bare pussy feels wrapped around him. He can feel all of the ridges, feel how slippery wet your walls are while he fucks you. It’s almost too much to handle. 

Smoothing his hands up your sides, a hand finds its way to one of your breasts, pinching the bud through your dress. He rolls it between his fingers, the pressure just enough to keep your senses on edge. His other hand finds its way between your legs, working your clit in small circles.

It’s sensory overload being played with in so many ways. Your core being fucked in perfect rhythm, your sensitive nipples twisting between his fingers, and your puffy clit being overstimulated. It’s like you’re falling apart right here in his arms and he loves it. Every single minute of it. You milk his cock so well when you’re like this, his whining, drooling, teary eyed girl. 

“C…cum first. You” you stutter, throwing your head back. Your fingers find his hair again and you pull it harder this time, arching your back and fluttering your walls. “Fill me up, Yeosang.” 

You’re so cute when you’re needy, too cute to deny. Truth is, he’s been holding back. He wanted to cum the second his cock felt what you were like without a condom. All this time the pressure’s been building and holding it back has been unbearable. His heart set on giving you what you want, as always, he slides down further on the couch, hitting your sweet spot as he fucks into you harder. 

“You’re so pretty you know that?” he growls, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re gonna make such a pretty mommy, aren’t you?”

You tug at his hair, swirling your hips in his lap, “Yes, daddy.”

Your words are like magic. One final twitch of his cock and he’s spilling inside of you so hard that you can feel him painting your walls. You wanted to be full and you are. So full of his seed that it’s dripping from your pussy, leaking all over him. The fullness sends you crashing towards your high, your walls gripping him tighter than ever as you both shiver in each other’s arms. 

“Oh god, don’t stop” you moan, greedy for more of his cum. Lucky for you it’s still flowing and your pussy devours it, taking every drop until you’re both spent. Cradling you in his arms, Yeosang brushes your hair back out of your face and kisses your cheek, lulling you down from your high. 

“You know I meant that” he says, breathlessly.

“Meant what?” you ask, stroking the muscular arms responsible for keeping you upright. 

“You’ll make a great mom. I can’t wait to see it” he smiles, planting another kiss on your cheek. “We just gotta keep working on it. Ready to go again?”

“Sir, you’re insatiable! I need to get away from you!” you giggle, clumsily pulling away from him and hobbling towards the stairs. 

Yeosang chases after you, scooping you into his arms with a mischievous grin on his face, “Well how else are babies made, honey?” 

[hana-no-seiiki]

Sorry for the long hiatus. My meds for my bipolar disorder have made it very difficult to have inspiration/motivation for anything aside from normie activities.

Anyways I have a lot planned for this year! Hopefully you guys enjoy these works that have been in the backburner for a while while now. Love yall.

Without further ado, here’s a little drabble/some hcs as appetizers.

YANDERE BATFAM x HAREM! READER

tw/cw: DID coded shenanigans. Multiple Readers converge from my other works. Confusing fuckery. Yun writing without his meds. Featuring @sophiethewitch1 ‘s loser reader from What We Want. Mad Genius! Reader.

inspired by: The Herta (Honkai Star Rail) and a lil Iron Man.

Okay it but wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if Reader gave the boys a harem of their own.

Like perhaps they’re just this immortal genius that creates puppets. Each with its unique personality and looks. But all of them share one thing, a love for their creator and the batfam. (And are all under your control…mostly)

Let’s start with your failures shall we? After all, the most precious thing to a genius like you, is your mistakes. However few or many there are.

You created Cat Villain! Reader as a test. No flashy powers beyond invisibility and teleportation. What you did give them however, was a whole load of sass and mystique. Something that drew in the Robins pretty well at first, but they soon lose interest in favor of … well

another work of yours was Alien! Reader. The goody two shoes with a dark side. (You couldn’t make them perfectly straight and narrow, that would have been far too boring). But Alien! Reader started dating Damian way too quickly. And everyone seemed so happy with the arrangement that you quickly ended it all. Swiftly killing your puppet in a fit of boredom. (Don’t worry, you kept some spare parts in order to rebuild them later on if such a whim caught your fancy)

Now, What We Want! Reader was special. It took a lot of time, effort, and whole butt load of money. Crossing dimensions was a lot more difficult than you thought it would be. But of course, in the end, your perfect self managed to pull through.

Replacing the original What We Want! Reader with a puppet that housed a soul from another world? Genius. Absolutely brilliant. You should reward yourself with how smart you are.

Unfortunately the boys got too excited and locked her up. Almost removing your access to one of your favorite experiments! How could they?

And so you send her back home. Safe and sound (and ready for part two!)

While looking through other dimensions, a certain manga/anime caught your eye. Makima! Reader was inspired from the character herself. And Bruce’s lack of participation and eagerness in some of your previous tests. And so you made his utter nightmare. One who killed when it was necessary and kill you did.

Unfortunately Makima! Reader almost made [Favorite DC Villain] pass away and you wouldn’t want that happening, don’t you?

In getting What We Want! Reader to your dimension you failed to account one of your stupid puppets getting into the collider by accident. And thus was What’s Up Danger? Reader was born.

You let it roam free for the most part, but for some reason time seemed to loop around them meeting the batboys for the first time and would never go beyond it. (Probably cause the author hasn’t updated in a dozen amber eras at this point)

Exasperated and in dire need of some fun in your life. You bring back all the readers one last time.

And oh, the chaos that ensued was one for the ages.

Finally, a success.

©️ h.n.s. - yun | 2025

[whisper-in-the-night]

The author can tell the story with Asa /the Sinclair brothers/Or Brahms. You can choose who you want! How is your recent story with Thomas (it's great) can the above listed slashers be omegas and Y/N alpha?

I've been on Tumblr recently, and there are some things I don't understand what and how. By your recent post, I thought you were taking applications.📿✒️

Omega!Slasher x alpha!male!reader

Warnings: alpha!slashers, omega!reader, omegaverse

Note: thanks for your request honey! Hope you'll like it. Have a good day ;) ♡⁠

•••

Asa Emory

Asa didn't like people, no. The insects were much better. Insects were useful, but what about people? They just buzz, drink and lead a dirty lifestyle. He didn't have a special appearance, on the contrary, he was quite a big man for an omega who was really able to interest someone and find a mate. But he didn't worry too much about it either. People were loud, repulsive.

But you seemed different. There was something so calm and attractive about you. He felt like a fly caught in your sticky web, even though he didn't really mind it. At first, it was strange to have someone around. Emory was a loner. But over time, he realized that you can really be relied upon and trusted. The man might not have noticed you among other small human ants. But that day you were standing in your own garden. You had a private house with a small garden full of flowers. It seemed like you were a hardworking person who loved nature. You were trimming one of your bushes when a pale blue butterfly landed on your shoulder. This startled Asa. After all, animals and insects always feel good people, they are attracted to them. So you weren't like other people.

And now he was here.

It was getting dark. The lights were still on in your house. You were sitting in the living room by the fireplace in your country house and reading one of your favorite books. It was nice to live away from people, the hustle and bustle of the city. The wood crackled steadily in the fire. The room was warm and cozy, your feet were warmed by a brown blanket you bought once at a sale in another city. Your fingers slowly turned over the pages, while your tired gaze slowly slid over the black lines. It's too early to sleep, not yet.

You've been alone for the last two weeks, but you knew that the day of the calendar was coming when he was coming back. You don't know why he comes back from time to time, maybe he was really comfortable with you. Although he was clearly not that kind of person. He would rather call it.. the necessity. You can't fool your own physiology with even a ton of suppressants.

Finally, there was the click of the front door, which you never closed, there was just no reason. There were slow, unhurried footsteps in the hallway, as if you were waiting. And for sure, today you left the light on in the hallway, perhaps this little detail alerted him, the man who loved to move around in the dark like some kind of virtuoso moth. Finally, the heavy boots touched the soft carpet material, and the steps became softer. Perhaps you should still teach him to take off his shoes at the entrance.

A moment later, your blanket was thrown off, and now was laying at your feet. A feeling of heaviness covered your hips. You didn't have to look down to know that the man had his head on your lap. He always did that. He came when he wanted to. Did what he wanted to do. He knew he could get away with it, but he didn't know why. He probably would never have been able to really kill you, even though he still acted like he had a knife at the ready. But none of his blades were worthy of slicing through your tender flesh.

You slammed the book shut with a light clap, having previously put your favorite bookmark with painted butterflies, and put it on the edge of the sofa. Your fingers found their way to Asa's head, caressing his cheeks with the pads of your fingers through the material of his mask. It was a strange material that you had never touched before. Something soft and rough at the same time. It looked a bit like the robbers' masks, but it seemed like he had made it himself.

The man made a soft purring sound as he leaned into your touch.

It was strange to have such a big man on my lap. He was really big, especially considering his secondary gender, which he would never tell anyone about, except perhaps you. Even his former work colleagues were unaware of his omega status. It just wasn't necessary. But it seemed different with you. Even after several vaccinations, you could still clearly smell his beeswax and verbena. Even now, under the mixture of dirt, gunpowder and blood, you could still feel that delicate fragrance, causing a smile on your lips.

Asa sighed, finally closing his eyes and clasping his hands on his chest. He probably hasn't slept in days, which is not surprising. He often stayed up late, thinking through all his riddles and traps. Although it is possible that all this week he was just reading a book about insects and plants that you gave him for his birthday.

Lately, the man has been almost.. clingy. Every time he got closer to his heat, Asa became unusually clingy and looking for touch. Your touch. Up to this point, his every heat was accompanied by pain and anxiety. The suppressants didn't always help, and the people around were too intrusive. Especially alphas. He remembers how, back in his teenage years, some alpha harassed Asa. The guy broke his nose. In principle, he often reacted aggressively to the attention of others. The quiet and secretive man, capable of ripping open the belly of an offender. His temper and uncontrollable aggression often got out of control, which led to sad consequences.

But it was different with you. Your touch felt so.. alive, sincere, gentle. Each time it made him have a sudden urge to take off his mask and feel your hands on his bare skin. But he immediately stopped himself, realizing that he would regret it later. The mask stays on.

You were a good alpha. So much so that something inside him reached out to you, seeking your touch and love. Asa isn't used to love. Isn't used to tenderness. But with you, he felt like he wanted to be pampered, wanted to be taken care of. Although it looks like regular one-night stands to you right now, it's far from the case for Asa. Perhaps one day he will even reveal his face to you. Would you like him? Would you like to start a family with him? Family... He's not sure he could stand the idea of children, no. But with you, everything seemed real. You were his support in life, his firefly in this dark world, even though you didn't know it yet.

But no, that's all later. Let him sleep on your lap for now. Maybe your back will hurt tomorrow because of the uncomfortable sleeping position, but it's worth it, isn't it?

Bo Sinclair

It was a sultry summer day. The sun was high in the sky, and the humid air made being outside even more unbearable.

You were with your boyfriend Bo at his gas station and helped him sort out the parts in the victims' old cars. There was no air conditioning in the room, so you, already soaked with sweat and grueling work, were without a T-shirt, in only loose trousers. You often begged Bo to go to a store in another city to buy you more suitable summer clothes, but each time you two found yourself overwhelmed with work.

When you were taking out another box of garbage, you noticed a car approaching. Regular tourists, even in this heat? Fate is obviously against you. After putting the box on the ground, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaned against the wall of the gas station, and watched the girls getting out of the car. They were two short girls and a guy with them who stayed in the car.

"Hey, handsome. Could you take a look at our car? There was something pounding in it all the way," one of the girls said with a slight smile, obviously flirting with you.

You smiled back, wanting to enter a new game and show all your skills and charisma in the best light. "Sure, babe. Give me a few minutes." You walked up to their car, lifted the hood, and began to pretend that you were really looking for a breakdown. Although in fact, you just needed to stall for a little while until Bo noticed what was happening through the window. The girl came a little closer, as if carefully watching your examination, while her slender fingers slowly slid up your strong arm. You grinned as you watched her. Your gaze darted to the guy in the passenger seat. He could be a problem. You smiled benevolently and nodded towards the gas station, "Buddy, why don't you call my friend? He's insane. I could use someone else's help."

The guy rolls his eyes, but gets out of the car and soon disappears inside the gas station. You know perfectly well that Bo will deal with him skillfully.

The girl's actions stop for a moment and she looks at you from under her eyelashes, seductively biting her lower lip. "Can you tell me where the toilet is here?"You chuckle and wink at her, leaving an ambiguous hint, "The second door on the left." The girl nods contentedly and enters the building, playfully wagging her hips.

You quietly approach the remaining girl while she looks after her departing friend, and grab a hunting knife from your pants pocket, cutting the fragile girl's throat with a sharp movement. When the lifeless body ends up on the floor with a thud , you fold the knife and return to the gas station. The girl was just coming out of the bathroom. You grab her wrist, trying to block her view of the window with your wide body, and squeeze her hips, pulling her closer to you.

"Come on, you didn't think of leaving so easily, did you?" You purred with a grin, burying your nose in the girl's neck. The cloying scent of cheap perfume and disgusting, almost artificial pheromones immediately hit your nose. "I bet that lad is really boring, right, baby?" You spoke into her neck, trying to play the interest. You were already reaching for the knife in your pants pocket when the girl let out a sharp scream, clutching at her throat. You took a step back, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and saw that your lover's screwdriver was pierced through the woman's neck.

Bo grabs the girl's hand and throws her to the floor. The poor girl clutches at her throat, choking on her own blood. The smirk on your face becomes more noticeable when you notice Bo's dark eyes burning with jealousy. The man steps over the girl's legs and comes closer to you, grabbing you by the neck and pressing you against the wall. You giggle, covering his hand with yours.

"What, baby? You don't like it when I use your methods, do you?" You purred, watching Bo's face contort in anger.

"Shut up."

His strong arms are gripping your shoulders, and his nose is burrowing into your neck. He showers your skin with careless kisses, circling around your scent glands. He mumbles something softly, and you feel his already bright pheromones amplify. A million times better than that girl's smell. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling Bo closer, to which he mumbled contentedly. You always liked how jealous and possessive he became in those moments when he realized that he really loved you and that, damn it, he wasn't ready to share you with anyone else. You were his alpha, and he was your omega, although he would never say it out loud. He often denied this desire, refusing to really consolidate this connection. After all, people would rather settle on a free omega to claim than a marked one. Alphas don't like to take other's stuff. But seeing other omegas circling around you, enjoying your pheromones, made him mad. Anger was bubbling deep in his stomach, and his heart was clenching.

"What is it? Jealous?"

Bo lets out a slight growl and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck to you. His fingers are gripping your shoulders tightly.

"Mark me," he mutters, looking down at the floor.

"Baby, you're not in heat right now.."

"Mark me. Now. Please.." his voice almost trembles, and you tighten your grip on his waist, "Mark me. Show me that you need me... that you want me, not them."

You pulled him closer, touching his neck with your lips and showering small kisses on his skin. A soft sigh escapes from Beau, he closes his eyes. Finally, you sink your fangs into his sensitive spot, the man's body shudders with pleasure. Even if he is not in heat now and the mark will be short-lived, it gives him a strange feeling of calm. He belongs to you. He's yours. And you're his. Nobody else's.

"..thank you."

Brahms Heelshire

You were walking slowly through the mansion, heading towards Brahms. The last item on the list remains: the night kiss. Lately, Brahms has looked kind of nervous and detached, although not so long ago he threw a tantrum after Malcolm delivered groceries once again and stayed a little longer than usual, chatting with you just about nothing. After that, Brahms made a real mess. He even refused dinner, which was unlike him. Although this man was basically quite strange because of his upbringing, you couldn't blame him.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, clutching a mug of warm mint tea. It was supposed to help your boy sleep. There was no response. But you heard the distinct creak of the bed and a slight whine.

Frowning, you pulled the door handle and went into the room. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Brahms was sitting on his large bed surrounded by clothes. Your clothes. His hands were convulsively clutching your clothes, shifting shirts from place to place the way he wanted. The man took one of the shirts and held it up to his face, taking a deep breath. His mask was pushed up just enough to show his nose and lips. Bitten lips with blood in some places. He seemed to be trying very hard to hide the sounds he was making. Brahms let out a soft whine, clutching one of your favorite shirts to your chest, which you wore this morning because it was cool in the garden.

It seems your boy was pushing you away without realizing that he needed your presence.

You let out a short laugh and entered the room. Putting the mug of tea on the dresser, you walked over to the bed. Brahms immediately tensed up when he heard someone else's footsteps. Looking up, the man caught your gaze and let out a slight whine. Right now, he looked like a lost needy puppy. You could swear that if he were a dog, his ears would be desperately pressed to his head right now, and his tail would be tapping on this mountain of clothes around him. Brahms crawled to the edge of the bed on his knees and grabbed the edge of your T-shirt with his fingers. His grip was strong, yearning, and his eyes were full of unspoken emotions. He didn't know what was going on with him, he didn't know why he felt that way and why he was doing these things, so he hoped that you would help him.

Your hand gently touched his hair, your fingers gently played with the curly strands. The man bent down to your touch, making a soft sob, and closed his eyes. Your hands were always so gentle and caring, you weren't like his past babysitters, you were different. You were good and kind, you even treated his doll well, like a real person. And now you've treated him well too.

With your free hand, you touched his chin gently, pulling his thumb away from his skillful lips. A few greased drops of blood were on your skin, but Brahms immediately, almost instinctively, wrapped your finger tongue, cleaning it from the lingonberry color liquid. He looked at you with those big brown eyes of a puppy, and you couldn't smile. His lips gently wrapped your finger, wanting to make you feel good. You always did everything he felt good, maybe he should be make you feel too..? You gently pulled him by the hair, laying on the bed. The large body of the man touched your clothes neatly folded into the improvised nest. You lay beside him, sipping Brahms gently to yourself. Even though Brahms was a big man, you were a little bigger than him, more muscular and strong. It always made Brahms feel small and free. He didn't have to hide under the mask, he didn't have to hide in the walls, no. Brahms was just a few minutes away. You took it all, with his problems, his capricious and his appearance. You loved him for himself. He was your little boy.

Brahms wrapped his arms around your waist, snorting his nose in your chest and squeak softly. With every second his body burned harder and harder, and in his head seemed to be a light mist. He was holding his nose harder in your chest, looking for comfort. You gently ran your hand over his hair, releasing the soothing pheromones through your groin glands. Brahms relaxed a little while, enjoying your smell. You always had your effect on him. Maybe he was your true omega. But it wasn't important now.

You pulled the man closer you, gently humming a lullaby , and pressed a kiss to his mask's forehead.

"Sweet dreams, baby."

[untoldstar]

yandere! married couple x fem reader

I like the idea of a yandere! married couple

Both in an arranged marriage, their lives completely consumed by their jobs, barely exchanging a few words a day. Sometimes when things got real busy and travel was involved they’d go an entire week or more without talking.

They don’t meddle in each others lives, the deal was they get married and then each of them can live their separate lives. So it’s safe to say that the wife wasn’t surprised when she started seeing the signs. Feminine perfume, dark red blotches on her husbands neck, a new excited gleam in his eyes she’s never seen before.

He’d fallen in love.

Not surprising. But it stings nonetheless. It’s just a reminder of their tragic reality. A loveless marriage out of convenience.

Her husband was a stoic workaholic, things like love, attraction and sex didn’t interest him. For fucks sake if he just wanted to fuck he had a woman who was literally his wife for that, and it would be a mutual understanding between the both of them. Just sex. Making the best of it since they’re married.

But no.

He wasn’t even ever really interested.

And even though that leaves a bitter pit in her chest curiosity bloomed nonetheless. What type of person could’ve caught his attention? She decided you must be special.

And it turns out you were.

She did her research and figured out everything about you. She feels terrible for it but she resorted to following you around in her car. Just to see how her husband behaved around you! To see him in a different light.

To see how it could have been with her had circumstances been slightly different.

She would observe you. How you had that youthful glow about you, a smile that made everyone swoon, a nice laugh that made his eyes twinkle and bite back his own smile. She’d never seen him smile like that. And she had no problem admitting you had an attractive body.

She gets it.

She gets why he fell for you.

She continues watching the both of you almost in awe. She felt like she was watching a romance movie. Eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of you, noting the different reactions you bring out of each other, how you gaze into each others eyes with that love sick look on your faces. As time went by her focus started to be directed more towards you..

Your laugh

Your smile

Your hair

Your eyes

Noting every single detail. She couldn’t get her eyes off of you.

She also couldn’t help but notice a black car that tailed you constantly and a certain clad in black man who watches you while speaking into his earpieces. She recognized both the man and the car to belong to her husband.

Oh god..

He was obsessed with you.

He was watching you all the time.

As was she.

At first she understood why he fell for you. Now, she really gets it. Because she had too. She’s falling into the same obsessive pit he fell into.

And now it’s only a matter of time before they butt heads over you.

She gulps down the last of her drink in her hand, head thrown back and eyes closed as she relaxes further into the soft cushioned chair in the dim living room, the only sounds are the crackling of the fire place and the occasional clink of her nails tapping on the glass.

A small soft smile pulls at her lips as your face flashes behind her eyelids.

Who would’ve thought this is how she would end up meeting you..

Maybe this miserable marriage was destiny’s way of bringing you two together.

Even if it was her husband who found you first. Before she can dwell on that thought longer she’s pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of the door opening and closing.

Speak of the devil..

His fancy dress shoes click against the marble floors until he’s right in front of her.

She lifts her head slightly to meet his glowering figure, deep dark eyes burning with such intensity she could almost see the fire behind them.

She offers a strained smile “Welcome home.�� He’s silent for a few seconds, eyes darting over her face almost in a calculative manner “Stay away from her.” His deep voice comes out in a command. He doesn’t offer any more details and he doesn’t need to. They are both well aware of the situation they’re in “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” His gaze hardens “That’s your choice then. And I’ve just made mine.” A spike of panic pierces through her chest but she doesn’t show it. Desperately pushing down that fear that starts sprouting inside her. Her husband is powerful and he will take out the necessary people if they’re standing in his way.

And she’s in his way.

She’s not really surprised he’d go to that length for you. She schools her face into that of indifference as though what she’s about to propose isn’t a gamble that could either save her in more ways then one or end up being her demise “How about..we come to a mutually beneficial agreement?”

If that’s what got them married in the first place why shouldn’t it work now?

[moonieandi]

corners and walls | silco x f!reader  

Summary: the grief of loss shakes apart the friends of four, leaving silco and her to pick up the pieces of the complex affliction between them

warnings (TW): slight spoilers for arcane season ii//act ii, swearing, mentions of death, alcohol mentioned, general trauma, violence (implied)

tags: established relationship, honestly for once NOT dumbasses, angst… comfort?, affection

notes: i think this is a oneshot. Im not completely sure (im kinda maybe sure) that this is a oneshot… im allowed to write about my interests! (pt 11 of snapshots in my drafts rn its a complicated ch im wrestling w myself about posting)--- but im in arcane brainrot…. I love dissecting it and unfortunately for all of u i LOVE silco……… hes a questionable character…… but the way the action of season ii is going i need something familiar in my life while looking at (doomed) victor/jayce (heavy sighs) — if u don’t wanna read i understand this is a moonie want (and need) — love youuuuuu <3 

word count: 2.6k

| masterlist | 

There were corners of her he did not know. 

Folds of her linens and clothes he moved to uncover in the past months. She was quiet, silent in the visage he had drawn of her, but stubborn (something familiar) and something of great consistency to him. 

It was hard to quantify her, easier to dismiss. She was not special. Of common stature and of common shape. Plain colors adorned her closet, plain and even temperament, plain tone, and of plain face. 

That is what they would say when uncovering her past. Now that she was part of this mess, part of the mess he had sheltered her into (part of the mess Vander had shepherded her into). The dream of a larger nation, of overarching architecture and structure and reasoning. A voice, they figured between the four of them, a voice that would listen and learn and speak loudly in the face of the injustices they had survived and crawled through. 

But he figured they would only comment on her appearance, perhaps. Of her coal stained shoes and the dirt under her picked nails. 

They would not know the woman behind it all. Would not know of Felicia either (now). Not with the violence inflicted on the bridge. Not with the weapon staining his hand (an accident he had sworn to them both). 

He knew of the woman before him though, knew of her mind and spite and grit. Knew of her work and the lengths and dredges she had come from. Knew of her grief. Something he sequestered in the back of his mind. Survive survive survive. She had once compared Zaun’s residents to roaches. Unkillable, dirty, and strikingly annoying. She meant it in an endearing way, she had to. She was a roach too. 

It was a different kind of insect, a different animal, that drove him to draw a gun on the woman he loved so dearly. He wouldn’t have thought to wrap a finger around the trigger if it weren’t for the feral instinct of preservation. He could discern danger like a sense, it came as easily as smell, as sight, as breathing. But it had him stuttering now, seeing her on the other end of his warranted violence (was it warranted?). 

She was a structure of poise, like usual. Another reason to keep the gun drawn to her. The silence in her acceptance of his decision. He knew though, that if they both survived the grief of his mistake she wouldn’t forgive him- never forgive him for registering her as a threat. How could she be? 

He had been waiting for the retaliation. He hid away in corners and along dark walls in wait. He waited for Vander to seek a sort of violence in him, the last violence the large man would ever do. Seek blood in the name of their shared friend, for the orphans he made. He was sick, sick with the thought of it most days. But composed, up until this point. Up until Vander used his last facilities to shake his roach of a mind from the corners of the nation they once dreamed of in the depth of caves and between stone-cold walls. She was it, was that thing that would make him waver, and he knew that. 

She had her palms raised, hands shaking. But composed, as usual. It was hard to shake the structure of her. She was rarely surprised by violence, much less the plights of men. She wasn’t quick to anger, wasn’t weepy at the thought of destruction, and stood as strong as cavernous walls, sturdy against the infrastructure of the Undercity. He admired that, he loved that. 

She had only shaken a total of three times, in front of him. Only bent her head and neck and bowed before him in emotion all of three times. Imprinted in his mind, the cascade of her hair, the shaking of her shoulders, and the sightless grief in her eyes. 

The first was the first time he truly saw her. She consumed herself with work. Whether it be their laborious job in the mines or the turmoil of finding justice in an unjustified upbringing. She had broken one day, that very first day. 

She was a sightless, unknowing girl in the crowd. But something about her hunched structure had struck him differently that day. He was younger then, only twelve. He knew of empathy but had yet to experience it. But he was shackled by it then, that day, when he first saw her. Hands bloody through her miners' gloves, shoes holey from the trek to and fro. She was younger, by a year or two. It was not unusual to find distressed children in the Undercity, perhaps more common than people would like to comment. Children, like they were, grew along the walls and innards of the city, meshed into stony hallways and bridges, faded into noise and paint of the background. It should go unnoticed by most, a crying child. But it struck him differently, then. 

The second, the day she confessed unfounded feelings. Years in the making, the dredges of the relationship between them. Even now, he could not comprehend the strings that were strapped between them. It was more than stuttered words and whispered confessions. It felt undying between them, an acceptance. 

She had been confused at the progression of their relationship, as was he. No reference to be found between them of a structure to hold their relationship. They took it in stride, took and molded their wants between them to breathe easily. Wind through a metal chime, ultimately peaceful, but prone to knots. Their strings overlaying, knotting, tightening. He had never thought to unweave them when he fled. The tug of knots and her heart led her back to him anyway. 

The third time would be now. The shake of her hands and the draw of her legs. The shimmering tears rounding along her chin. She was beautiful. She never liked when he said so, but she was captivating. He didn’t enjoy seeing her cry, it unsettled a deep dark part of him. One he would crush and stamp down, that domineering possessive part of him. He thinks of drawing the gun to his foot, squeezing the trigger at his incompetence and attitude to make her cry (this was the second time now, he swore, two strikes in the threads between them). 

“Please.” She never pleaded. “Please Silco, come home.” The grit of her teeth against a stutter, the shuddering of her breath in the cavities of her chest. Grief, unfounded. 

“You know I can’t, dear.” Too quick for his liking, he responded. He had backed himself into a dark corner, grown leaves into walls, and hid in shadows of the Undercity bridges now. It would have to be without her though, he grieved again. He had sunk so far into the stones, in the murky water of the Undercity, it wouldn’t be safe for her to follow. 

“I’m sorry.” An afterthought. A forethought. What he apologized for was lost between the notch of string on his belt and the thread leading back to her shirt. Was it for Felicia? His grief? Or was it for leaving her? (Was it for the children? For the young girls that remember his visage in Felicia’s home? For the blue-haired pixy girl that asked for him between shattered bombed dreams? The girls she shushed and rocked and cried to sleep?) 

She liked to think it was for all of it. Her stupid heart forgave him anyway. 

She was far from naive, far from gullible. 

She knew of men and violence and dark waters by the ripe age of nine. Something she would teach Felicia’s daughters now too. It was why she lived, why she breathed still, her unwillingness to bend and snap her neck in the face of shadows and men. But she had forsaken that for him, craved a subjugation in his waters, and wished to follow him up ivy walls and read the ink scrawled on his stupid notebooks. Wanted to breathe life into his ideas and into Zaun. She’d follow him into the dark, knowingly leaving the unsaught dawn behind her. 

She only bent because she knew the power between them was equal though. She was sure of exactly three things when it came to Silco. 

The first being that he was flippantly deep. That he thought not in breaths but in paragraphs. That he could not speak but write for hours on end, that he could comprehend and listen and swallow and accept, and that he did not react in haste. He was full of purpose and determination. It was more than endearing, almost blindingly inspiring that he wished for not better but only ever the best. 

The second being that he was a perfectionist. That his scripture was scrawling and hard to read, but comprehensive. That he enjoyed messes only because he enjoyed the meticulousness of planning and cleaning up. That he loved the structure of homes and corners of houses and the craft of cleaning something that was truly his. 

The third being that he loved of equal measure, that she was most sure of, could recognize in the dead of the night, in the depth of caves. That he was severely serious when it came to the strings strung between them, and not because of the disorder of them. He would have color-coded, would have untwisted knots, and lengthened rope if he wanted to. But that was the truth of it, that he was the farthest from a perfectionist when it came to love. That he didn’t measure distances and didn’t note words between them, because he threw away the scale of them long ago. Pulled her close, twisted words between them, and sang and hummed to her in crooks of her neck. That he wished for her continued safety above anything, and far above his own. She knew for a fact, was sure of it as she was of the red-pitched brick outside the bar. It was as cumbersome as the smoggy sky, but as easy to swallow as any dark liquor. That he loved her in dark corners that made him. 

But there were dark corners of her he did not know of yet. 

That the consuming grief of her long-time friend sent her into a rage, that the stabilization and measurements between them fell and broke when he was not there for her to confide in. She wished above all else that he had stayed, that he had faced Vander’s anger. She had stayed, breathed, and swam the storm of their mutual friends' grief. Stayed for the children and for their grief also. Did that make him a coward?

“For what.” She asks, the caverns of her lungs shaking now. Her hands weak, falling to her side. “Don’t say that, don’t say that if you don’t know what for.” It was senseless and miscalculated of him to say sorry. He is so purposeful, so full of preserverations. She just wished he did not feel he had to preserve himself in the face of her. 

The gun shakes now, dropping to his side, his finger poised along the trigger still. The depth of the scarcity of her image still shook him. It had been weeks, what felt like months since he’d seen her face. 

He had seen her in crowds, seen the children marking her frame and clutched in her arms. It shook him to not wake up to her face anymore, much less her smell or her frame or her voice. Her face though, the visage of tears and the weakness of her arms, awoke something in him. 

He had to remember himself, why he left. To build a nation, to structure a future for her. For the new shadows of Felicia that followed in her wake now. 

“Everything.” He meant. “For everything, my love.” 

She sighs deeply, tired. Her head tilting to the left on instinct. Powder made a home in the crook of her neck most nights now. 

It was striking to see him. She dreamed of him between nightmares and dreamless sleep. Dreamed of waking up to him, of the quirk of his lips and the crook of his nose. The smell of him and the warmth of his embrace. The fold of his jacket around her shoulders and the breath of a kiss along her brow. When she woke she could not decide the ups and downs of walls, couldn’t decide if it was a tortuous nightmare to be awake or to be asleep. 

It strikes her when he steps forward from the shadowed corner she had backed him into. His hair is longer, his eyes deeper and darker, his clothes caked with dirt. She thinks to be insistent again. Thinks of bringing him home despite Vanders’ anger, despite the grief they shared between them. But wasn’t Silco grieving also? 

He approaches with stuttering steps. Unsure of the length of strings between them, grasping her to tie her tight again to him, when he reaches for the curve of her cheek and jaw. 

“Don’t cry.” He commands for the third time in her life, sweeping his thumb and fingers along her wet cheeks. She shutters around it, breathing between the mess of string and space between them. 

“Good.” He hums, bringing his fingers to the nape of her neck, curving her neck up in revelation. He bends his own in subjugation to her, curving his shoulders and bowing to her visage to meet familiarly between them. Curving his slight frame and lips against her own warmth, the common parts of her beat faster at the affection. It burst between them, the movement of endearment and familiarity. She forgot about this above all, missing the plainer parts of life you don’t know to miss until they are gone. 

She’d miss him again and again, would string along strings and set fires in dark paths and along walls searching for him. They’d say goodbye now, and say goodbye again once she traced him back down to the cobblestone he had slid into and out of. She’d look for him in architecture and in the children of the Undercity, she’d swear and kiss away it all now, though. Anything to push off the knots between them, anything to stop a stuttering goodbye between them that was as inevitable as her own death. A thousand of them, these tiny goodbyes, she’d take though, if it meant he lived. 

Lived farther down below than she’s ever been. But then again, there were corners and foothills in her mind he did not know of, yet. 

[syluscore]

Leon's Special Recipes

~neighbor! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

randomly had to write this at 3 am last night. definitely leaves space for a part two if anybody's interested, but i do ask for an idea on how it should go! how would you react in this situation?

Word count: 1068

Content warning: nonconsensual cum eating, male masturbation

!!!!!GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+! MINORS DNI!!!!!

“Hi, Leon! Come on in,” You open your front door wide for your neighbor. You live in adjacent townhouses, him living on the end so you’re his only true neighbor.

He steps into your entryway and kicks off his shoes. “So, what brings you here?” He pushes a plastic container into your hands. You open it up and are met with the sweet smell of cookies. “What’s all this?”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing really. Trying new things; new hobbies and such. Trying my hand at baking and needed a taste tester. Luckily for me, I have a neighbor with a sweet tooth.”

You aren’t looking at him as he speaks, rummaging around in the container of freshly baked sweets. “Oh my God! Chocolate chip?” You pull a cookie out and take a huge bite, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the sugar and gooey chocolate hit your taste buds.

You moan out happily and Leon can’t help but smile widely at you, while also shifting his hips to hide his hardening cock from the sounds you’re making–but that’s not important right now. 

You swallow the bite down quickly before taking another. You talk with your mouth full, doing your best to cover your mouth with your hand, but too excited to bother with proper manners. “These are amazing, Leon! How many did you make?”

“Oh, about a dozen. I did keep some for myself. If a man won’t eat his own product, then it’s not a product worth sharing,” He lies through his teeth. He made a half dozen cookies especially for you. They’re not for him, or anyone else at all for that matter. Only you.

You finish a whole cookie and lead him into the kitchen. “Thank you, Leon. That’s so thoughtful. These aren’t going to last long over here. Can’t control myself around sweets.” Perfect. Knew his girl was greedy and it’s working in his favor so nicely. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thinking about trying peanut butter, oatmeal, white chocolate, and sugar cookies. Gotta keep myself busy when I’m not working, you know?”

You reach into the container and pull out another cookie. “Sorry, my mouth started watering at the sound of all of those. You gonna stop at cookies or are you going to expand your baking resume into other goodies?”

He hums thoughtfully, “Maybe. You like cupcakes?”

You smile brightly at him, pure joy in your eyes, “I love them!”

He was hoping you would. He’s been looking at homemade frosting recipes and he thinks he could make a pretty good batch of it. It’d be easy to slip his secret ingredient into those. Yeah. Next time he’s at the store, he’ll buy them out of cupcake supplies. Gonna keep you fully stocked on them. 

“I’m glad we can help each other. I got someone to eat my treats and you get treats.” You nod your head as you nibble on your second cookie. “Anyway, sweetheart. Can’t hang around long, got an early morning tomorrow.” More lies. If he doesn’t get his hand around his cock within the next 5 minutes, he just might come in his pants. 

“Oh, of course. Let me walk you out!” You finish your cookie before walking over to the sink and washing your hands, drying them quickly on your pants before leading him back to the front door.

He’s slipping his shoes back on as you thank him again and he quickly heads out the door, for the safety and privacy of his own home. 

He practically slams his front door and locks it before his hands undo his belt, yanking his cock from his jeans and groaning out as his hand squeezes the base. 

He’s not sure where he read it online, or what he was even looking at to find such a thing. Probably a Reddit thread or some gross porn flick. But as soon as he got the idea to put his semen in food, he couldn’t keep himself from feeding it to you. 

He was constantly popping an erection the days leading up to baking your special cookies. But he kept from touching himself so he’d be loaded and desperate when it came time for your filling. When he was finally ready to add his come to the batter, all it took was a few strokes for him to shoot the fattest load he’s ever managed by himself. 

He quickly shoved his dick back in his pants as he stirred it in and poured them onto a non-stick pan. He was still so pent up, he was hard again before the cookies were even done baking. 

He made 6 average size cookies and 1 mini one. He didn’t really enjoy the idea of eating his own semen cookies, but he had to try it to make sure you couldn’t taste something off. He didn’t think it would make any sort of difference, he maintains an okay diet so he doesn’t taste half bad. But he needed to be thorough because he was desperate for this plan to work out.

And as soon as he popped that mini cookie in his mouth and started chewing, he knew you were going to love them. So many chocolate chips and sugar, it’s a sweets lover’s wet dream. He laid them out to cool while he cleaned up and by time the mess was gone, the cookies were cooled down enough to bring to you. So he cleaned himself up, packed up the cookies and walked over to your place.

Within minutes of returning to his own house, he’s leaned back on his couch, shirt stuffed in his mouth as he shoots more come across his abs. His mind is filled with the fresh memories of you eating your cookies and loving them. Thanking him for his special little treat for you.

And the next day when he runs into you on the way to your car and asks if you ate any more cookies, he’s super pleased when you tell him they’re all gone. Ate another before you went to bed. Got up in the middle of the night, tummy growling for another one. And then ate the last two for breakfast. He tells you he’ll get to work on your next batch and you giddily tell him you just can’t wait to try more of his yummy desserts. 

~masterlist~

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