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mariasont · 1 month ago

Note

Need a bimbo assistant reader x hotch fic where the team is making fun of hotch for having no sense of humour until we say smth like "what are you talking about? Hotch is hilarious!" And everyone just turns to hotch like "wtf??" To which he immediately changes the subject. But surprise surprise he's only trying to be funny around us to be charming 😛

The Funny Thing About Him - A.H

a/n: obsessed with this request bc this is so canon, i just know mans is saving ever stupid pun he sees on his blackberry to tell bimbo reader lololo

but thank you so much for the request lovely!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, flirtiness galore, hotch being whipped and not knowing it yet, the team being a menace and lowkey bullying hotch, unintentional simping, bimbo!reader glazing hotch's sense of humor

wc: 1.9k

It was a rare thing for the team to spend time together outside of work, and even rarer to do so in a place like this. A dive bar that looked like it hadn't seen a deep clean since the Bush administration. But Garcia had insisted--no, demanded--that they all check out what she had referred to as her second office.

So here you were, crammed into a tiny booth with the team, surrounded by mismatched furniture, sticky tabletops, and walls that had somehow absorbed the faint tang of stale beer as if it were part of their structural integrity. But after a round of drinks, then appetizers, then more drinks, it had become kind of charming in a deeply questionable way.

Everyone had seemed to have loosened up. Hotch, naturally, was the exception. Seated at the edge of the booth, he looked almost hilariously out of place, like someone had photoshopped him into the scene. His posture was straight as ever, his suit jacket neatly draped on the back of his chair, and fingers loosely curled around a glass of whiskey.

He was listening, though, as he always did--dark eyes flicking to whoever was speaking, his small nods he only thing that gave him away.

You, however, were hyper-aware of Hotch for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with professionalism. The small booth had left you wedged between him and Garcia, and you couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, it meant you were close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, smell the woodsy, expensive cologne he always wore, and notice the little ways his expression softened just a hair every time you caught him glancing your way.

On the other hand, well, all those things were very distracting.

Like, very distracting.

Garcia was mid-story--something dramatic about a terrible date, an allergic reaction, and a wig--but you weren't really listening. You were trying, of course, but your mind seemed too busy cataloging the way your elbow accidentally brushed against Hotch's every time you shifted, or how your knees kept grazing under the table.

Each time, you'd mutter a quick, oops, sorry, and each time, you absolutely did not mean it.

You liked testing the boundaries with him, liked noticing his reactions. In fact, you liked being able to notice most things about him--the little details no one else seemed to catch.

Like how he had this funny way of pressing his lips together when he was reading something particularly dense, like he was silently judging whoever wrote it. Or how he always seemed to have a spare hair tie ready in his desk drawer because yours snapped at the worst possible moments--and somehow, he always had it ready right when you needed it, like he'd been waiting for you to ask.

Or how, right now, he kept subtly hovering a hand behind your head every time you leaned back in laughter, like he was ready to stop you from accidentally smacking the back of your head against the hard wood of the booth.

It made you feel warm and fizzy, like you’d downed one too many sugary cocktails. Which, honestly, you might have.

"Hotch," Garcia suddenly blurted, dragging you out of your thoughts. "Back me up here--there's no way this is the worst first day you've ever heard of."

He blinked, seemingly caught off guard. "I... I suppose it's up there."

Morgan grinned and shook his head. "Hotch, your definition of worst first date is probably someone not knowing how to file their taxes. You’ve got zero imagination for this stuff."

You glanced at Hotch, who just shrugged, not even bothering to defend himself.

No imagination, Morgan had said, and for some reason, you couldn’t help but try to picture it--Hotch on a date.

At first, the idea felt completely out of place, like imagining a celebrity shopping for milk. But then, the image started to take shape: he’d show up early, wearing one of those perfectly tailored suits that made him look like he belonged on the cover of GQ. He’d pull out your chair, open every door, and probably order something practical--like steak or chicken. And even if the conversation started stiffly, he’d listen so intently, like every word you said mattered. By the end of the night, you’d be completely smitten.

Not that you’d thought about it or anything.

“I think you’re underselling him,” JJ said with a knowing smile, glancing at Hotch. “He might not have the most obvious imagination, but he has a way of surprising people.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah, right. Hotch probably schedules his surprises. Like, plan to laugh sometime between 8:00 and 8:15 PM.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hotch doesn’t laugh. He probably just stares at people mid-joke, makes them uncomfortable, and calls it a win.”

Hotch arched a brow. “I wasn’t aware my sense of humor was under scrutiny tonight.”

“Oh, come on,” Morgan said, his grin widening. “You’ve gotta admit, Hotch, you’re not exactly cracking jokes left and right. Your idea of funny is telling someone they’re late for work when they’re actually on time.”

“That was funny,” Hotch deadpanned.

The table erupted into laughter, and even Emily shook her head, biting back a grin. “You’re proving his point, you know.”

“What are you guys talking about? Hotch is hilarious.”

The table fell silent. Every single person turned to look at you like you’d just claimed the sky was green. Even Hotch stiffened beside you, his glass halfway to his lips.

Morgan’s head tilted, his grin fading into something more incredulous. “What did you just say?”

“Hotch?” Emily asked, her face the picture of astonishment. “Did you… did you bribe her to say that?”

“No!” you said quickly, holding up your hands like you were defending yourself. “I mean it! He’s, like, really funny!”

“Hotch?” Garcia repeated, looking at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “Our Hotch?”

“How can you guys not think he’s funny? I laugh at his jokes all the time.”

Hotch, who up until this point had been composed despite the teasing, suddenly looked… well, less composed. His lips parted like he was going to say something, but then he clamped them shut, the faintest tinge of pink creeping up his neck and settling across his cheeks.

Emily smirked, glancing between you and Hotch. “Okay, now I have to hear these so-called jokes you think are hilarious.”

You turned back to them, still looking baffled. “Well, I can’t just, like, repeat them! It’s all in the timing. Hotch just… he has a vibe. You wouldn’t get it.”

The team erupted into laughter, but you just sighed dramatically, crossing your arms and turning back to Hotch. “Seriously, Aaron, tell them.”

Hotch cleared his throat, setting his glass down a little too forcefully.

“So, Garcia,” he said quickly, his voice normal but his ears tinged red, “about this terrible first date—”

Hotch shot you a quick, almost panicked glance, but you pretended not to notice. Either way, you popped the fry into your mouth and smiled at him like you hadn’t just completely upended his reputation in front of the entire team.

Eventually the bar had mostly emptied out, including your team, the once-loud chatter replaced by the occasional creak of chairs and muffled laughter from the remaining patrons. You stood by the door, fiddling with the zipper of your jacket as another rush of cold air blew in when someone left. The chill bit at your cheeks. It wasn't the warmest coat in the world, but it was adorable, which you felt was more important.

Before you could even complain, however, Hotch stepped forward, placing himself squarely between you and the wind.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

You beamed at him, fingers idly playing with the end of your scarf. You took a small step closer--partly to escape the wind, partly for reasons you didn't feel you needed to disclose.

"Always," you said, tilting your head to examine him closely. "Did you?"

He nodded. "I did."

You blinked up at him. "Really? Even with everyone giving you such a hard time? I mean, they were relentless tonight.”

“They can’t help themselves." He huffed out a soft laugh, his breath misting in the cold air. Then, with a dry edge, he added, “And to be fair, I think I handled it better than you handled the fries Garcia stole from your plate.”

You giggled, covering your mouth with one hand. “Hey! That was a crime! I had every right to be upset!”

Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“See?” you said, poking him in the arm. “You’re funny! You are! Why aren’t you like that around everyone else?”

Hotch glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly. “I think I just… read the room.”

Hotch’s vague answer left you with more questions than clarity, but you didn’t push him. The more you thought about it, the more certain you became—he was different with you.

Hotch didn’t crack jokes in the bullpen—not unless you were there. He didn’t tell silly stories during late-night case reviews—not unless it was just the two of you staying behind in the office, sorting through files. Like that time he told you about his college roommate, you’d laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, and he’d chuckled softly, shaking his head like he hadn’t expected you to find it so funny.

Or the way he’d once walked by your desk and dropped a note on it that said, if it gets any colder in here, we’ll be solving frostbite cases next. You still had it tucked away in your drawer.

The thought made you feel a bit warmer, like you’d just downed a champagne flute in one gulp. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you were smiling, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“You know, you’re the best boss ever. Have I told you that before?”

Hotch turned his head toward you, one eyebrow raised. “What do you want?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, your grin widening. “I’m just being honest!”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I hope you remember that next time you're twenty minutes late to a meeting because there was a sale at Bloomingdale’s."

You gave him your sweetest, most innocent smile.

“Well, maybe if you came with me to the sale, you wouldn’t have to wait twenty minutes for me to show up.” You leaned a little closer, your voice dropping into a teasing sing-song. “And I bet you’d look so cute holding my shopping bags.”

Hotch rolled his eyes, his expression impossibly dry. “I think I’ll leave the shopping bag modeling to Reid. He’s probably got the legs for it.”

You burst into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your gloved hands. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me!”

He exhaled a small laugh, finally relenting. “Alright, let’s go before you freeze.”

Still laughing, you looped your arm back through his and gave it a little squeeze as the two of you walked through the door.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo assistant reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader #hotch #hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic

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desireangel · 6 months ago

Text

Dark Cherry | Aemond Targaryen

Part One (potentially ??? xoxo - indecision)

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop who could be impliedly understood as ms Alys ;o

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (m receiving), talk of sex, masturbation, bad words, very little dialogue, I wrote this in 2 hours and it is barely edited so it may be shite. guys. please tell me if I've missed a warning, luv u xoxo

Author's note: here's a wee smth while I get my head around part 2 of Infernal Desires! the idea I had for this fic was for a multi-part but idk depends on how we're feeling so there will potentially be a part 2 ;D. kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Whatever pretence was in play, you would be the first to admit that you were tired of it. A loveless marriage was nothing less than what you had expected–a union that was entirely for show and born from the political motives of your families. It was only expected.

You tried to convince yourself that you were content with such an arrangement. It suited your ambitions, meant that you could be left alone to do as you please while quenching the thirst to make your family proud.

Somehow, despite your hesitance and despite your husband’s ignorance toward you, the one thing that you knew you would never truly hold had become your greatest wish.

The reality was such that you found yourself longing for affection.

Preferably-of course-your husband’s affection.

Between the forced smiles put on for expectant eyes, the brush of your shoulders whenever you sat next to each other at the dining hall and the gentle caresses at the small of your back until his touch was hurriedly removed once you were again behind closed doors, you had grown an incessant, consuming desire for the prince you were married to.

Aemond was a man of great beauty and strength. While many had chastised his singular eye and told tales of his ruthless temper, Aemond had grown to be well respected and the object of many lustful gazes.

Eight months had passed since Aemond became your husband and you, his wife. Eight months of tense silences, lonely nights in a bed you had expected to share and eight months of nothing but false affections that were nothing but a performance.

You had considered yourself a romantic right until you felt the loneliness and realities of this marriage. Your naive desires to feel the throes and excitement of love that you read about were subject to a rude awakening the moment you became disgustingly aware of your husbands lack of it.

Aside from the night of your wedding, Aemond seemed to avoid your bed as if it would burn his skin. Until two months ago, when you had pushed aside the sting on your pride and all but demanded he spare some time for you.

Friends had warned you that it was hardly special. But if he was kind enough, as few of their husbands were from time to time, he would give you a chance to experience some of the pleasures of your body.

Aemond was hardly a passionate lover, it had seemed. With instruction to simply lift your skirt, he had you laying with your hips at the foot of the bed where he silently and effortlessly fucked his seed into your womb. It had not yet borne fruit despite his fortnightly visits.

It was never enough. Your body had eventually begun to crave more. In a very raw and unmistakably physical need to find the release it had been denied for so long. Despite Aemond’s assurance on the first nights of your marriage that neither of you were to have any interest in whores or paramours, words and whispers of the prince’s capabilities had picked up over recent weeks and you came to understand that if only Aemond had wanted to, he could give you exactly what your body desired.

Even if you had the same freedoms as men when it came to taking on lovers outside of your marriage, you couldn’t. Admittedly, you’d developed a taste for luxury - a taste only for your husband. Or at least, the fantasy version of Aemond that you had concocted within your head.

And when your hand made its way between your thighs in the small hours that followed restless nights, the only thoughts that existed in your mind were those of him. Of all the things you had hoped Aemond would guide you to discover about your bodies. Of all the things that you had read about in the books you’d sneak out to find.

Sometimes, you wondered if Aemond thought of you while he touched himself. The idea of it often crossed your mind and you had since convinced yourself that you had been driven insane.

Realistically, you knew that the arrangement you had with Aemond was out of necessity. Nothing more. But you were much like him in certain ways - hungry for what you know you deserve, relentless and cunning. But you had little patience left.

The moment you had decided to make your worth known to your husband wasn’t one you could place a finger on. It was a gradual thing - as you had gently started shifting your attention past the lovers in your books who no longer calmed your lustful needs.

You wanted him more fiercely than you had wanted for anything in your lifetime.

So you gently lowered the neckline of your dresses to highlighted the bump of your collarbone, had your maids do your hair so that it framed your face perfectly while accentuating the shape of your neck. You had soon foregone the paler tones your mother had you wear, colours that announced your purity and innocence. The colours that you wore were deeper, richer and more sultry against the tone of your skin.

With difficult ignorance of the nervous, shy and pious girl your parents had raised for such a match, you forced yourself to seek out Aemond’s gaze with an extra glint in your eyes. You let your once hesitant touches linger with a newfound confidence that stole your breath away whenever Aemond would escort you to and from the dining hall. On the days Aemond would spare time to walk you through the gardens, you made an effort to speak of more than just the weather.

At times, you felt uneasy about the act you were putting on. Were the prospect of his affections so important to you that you forced yourself to act so differently? In your mind, being a seductress was never so dishonourable as many made it seem but you had hoped this act would pay off in a matter of a few weeks.

Your impatience becomes painful when you have every other desire at your beck and call.

But you were mistaken. If anything, Aemond’s indifference had only grown. And at each hardened glance from your head to toe, at each moment in which he continued to ignore you or look past you, your resolve weakened.

Aemond could not have found you unattractive - this much you knew as a fact. You knew from the way he used to look at you with a gentle fire in his eye and made sure that your every other need had been taken care of. From the way he clenched his jaw in restraint when you would lay back for him, how his grip on your hips and your thighs left marks on your skin as he fucked into you - even if there was little more than a duty being performed. After all, he was still just a man.

So despite the fact that your efforts were shaping up to be of no use, you didn’t give up. You started taking breakfast in your chambers, requesting Aemond to join you when he was available, dressed in your softest, prettiest nightgowns instead of having dressed up already.

You made a show of it, unashamed and brazen. Almost surprisingly, Aemond enjoyed the dark cherry more than you could have hoped. There were subtle changes in the way his eye would linger over the dip of your neck, the way his wordless gaze would follow the deep red that would stain and spill from your lips as you bit into a cherry from the bowl of fruit that you shared.

Your conversations have always been comfortable. Aemond may be a brooding, arrogant hardass sometimes but he was always respectful and kind to his you in the time you shared together as husband and wife. But now he would falter, his words getting caught as he watched you gently sucking off the juice of a cherry from your fingers, humming gently as you glance at him with false nonchalance mixed with your best bedroom eyes.

And it did drive him insane. Aemond had never seen this side of you, much unlike the quiet, prudish woman he had married. But then again, had he ever truly known you? Either way, you had caught the amusement in his gaze and the way he challenged you wordlessly with a shift of his hips and gentle smirk.

Much to your disappointment, little else changed. Nearly three weeks had passed and Aemond had given you little more than those lingering looks and a few stolen breaths. He had at once withdrawn and become increasingly lacklustre, and when you had even tried asking him about his training with Ser Cole, you received no more than curt, blunt answers at each try.

It had become too much by the time you had retired to your chambers alone once again. The day had been long and uneventful, Helaena had been by your side for most of it which had been nice but you were in no mood to fake an interest in sifting through the performative duties of a princess.

In all honesty, it was frustrating. You were starting to wear thin on the constant nagging of absolutely everyone about your lack of a child. It has been almost a year and you have failed to perform your duty as a wife, almost a year and you have not missed a single cycle, almost a year and you haven’t blessed the prince with an heir.

Because, as a lady whose name you hadn’t cared enough to remember had not-so-gently uttered to you over her dreadful playing of a stringed instrument; what was the point of being his wife if you didn’t bed him well enough to carry his child?

You had, in truth, been distracted. And the idea of carrying the child of a man who only paid you the necessary courtesies out of politeness and good manners made you feel ill.

Queen Alicent, although you could tell she was inclined to agree with the lady, had placed a gentle yet firm hand on your bicep to calm the anger that had clearly taken you over. With a glare at the loose-lipped woman, you quickly picked up the handkerchief you’d been attempting to embroider and excused yourself.

If anyone had noticed your absence from the evening meal, which the Queen had always insisted upon eating together, nobody bothered to say anything.

Over an hour had passed, tossing around in your bed and your eyes stinging from embarrassment. Why was Aemond so averse to you? Why would he stare at you as if you set his blood on fire in one moment and then glance straight past you in the next? What had you done that convinced him so strongly that you were not even worth trying to be familiar with?

The gods had surely intended to punish you for something in a past life if they were so adamant to trap you in a marriage with a man who would much rather be anywhere other than with you.

You may as well be strangers to each other.

The ache of your anger led you straight out of your own chambers and towards his. You spared Ser Tunsley, the knight standing at your door, a harsh glare and snapped at him to give you your privacy otherwise you’d have him stripped of his cloak. He was a timid one, you noticed, and with a nod he stood back, his eyes staring straight past your shoulder in an attempt not to stare at the thin nightgown that clung to your skin.

It was an outrageous hour and you were of half a mind in your frustration to thank the gods for the empty hallways. In fact, you noticed the lack of an armoured man at the door to Aemond’s chambers and wondered if maybe the prince was elsewhere.

You stepped towards the door, curiosity peaked at the sound of shifting, followed by some voices and you hesitated. Frowning, you ran through what you would say if Aemond opened the door - there was nothing that would make sense.

As you stepped closer to the door, a soft light spilled out and you noticed that it was, in fact, just barely ajar.

It was unlike Aemond to leave his door open and you were certain he would question you sneaking around the hallways in the small hours, dressed only in underclothes. But you ignored the rational voice at the back of your mind and took silent steps so close to the door that it would be cowardly to back out now.

You couldn’t hear the voices anymore, ears ringing as you held your breath and gently nudged the door while muttering a silent prayer that it wouldn’t make a sound.

Shock first. Then fear, anger, desire and an all consuming jealousy as you took a moment to understand what you were seeing.

Aemond was resting at the end of his bed, naked and resting his weight lazily on one arm, his free hand tangled in the dark hair of a slender woman, just as bare as him, kneeling at his feet and moving her head in an up and down motion. Aemond guided her movements with a firm hand, his head tipped back gently.

He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You’d never seen him without it–he never let you. His eye was firmly shut and you caught the glint of the sapphire in place of the other that was stolen from him. The movements of his chest were heavy and you could hear him panting gently, lips gently parted.

You were unable to tear your eyes off of Aemond. He looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him, under the golden hue of the lamps, his body lean and chiselled–each curve and muscle glowing under the lights. You could see his pleasure, in his expression, the tinting of his skin and the way he roughly tugged at the mystery woman’s hair. A couple strands of his own hair, usually pulled away from his face, fell forward and the flush of his cheeks were starkly pink against the silver of his hair. He let out a breathy groan, murmuring something you couldn’t quite hear as he opened his eye, dark with lust, and gazed down at the woman that was hunched over his lap. The lewd sounds of her mouth on him almost made you gasp and you thanked the gods that Aemond could not see you. Because you could not move if you tried.

You couldn’t see anything other than the back of her head, and you were glad of it. Because you knew that seeing her face would have been too much and staying hidden and quiet would have been ten times more difficult. Despite the pressure between your thighs, the uncomfortable slick that you felt against your small clothes and the heat that rushed through you from head to toe, you glared viciously at the back of her head.

Aemond’s breathing stuttered, a string of curses falling carelessly from his lips while he watched the woman as if he were entirely enchanted by her. Despite the fact that you couldn’t really see what she was doing, so expertly that had him in such a state, the entire thing felt obscene. And you could hear her muffled moans, the wetness and her light gagging when Aemond tightened his hold on her hair and thrusted upwards.

Your cheeks burned and your blood felt like lava coursing through your veins. The intensity of your want for him–as he was right now–made you dizzy and you drew in sharp breaths, careful not to make a sound. Because if he turned his head slightly to the left, just for a second, he would see you. You didn’t want to know the consequences. But nothing that existed among all of the realm could force you to turn around and leave.

Aemond’s groans were quiet and deep but they grew slightly louder than before, his breath catching as you could see him grow closer to his peak. Your thighs trembled as you pressed them together, barely thinking about how you would be able to escape after he was done–when he would surely see you watching unashamedly.

The sounds that Aemond was making sent shockwaves straight to your wetness and as you could see his entire body grow visibly tense, hips jerking as his groans turned strained amongst grunts and whispers of just like that and fuck and—a name.

It was your name.

You couldn’t help but gasp, clenching around nothing, squeezing and rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve the throbbing of your clit. The woman faltered, much to your satisfaction, and she pulled her head back from him. You couldn’t see past her but her hands remained as they were, biceps moving gently as she continued to touch him.

“Aemond-” you winced as she said his name, no bother for formality. Her voice was slightly husky and it remained sultry and smooth. “I’m not-”

Your husband’s jaw ticked, squeezing his eye shut and pushing her head down towards his hips again. “I know. Fuck–” he grunted, roughly pushing her further down, cursing as she gagged. She hummed around him.

Suddenly, the desire in your veins became secondary to the jealousy that burned your lungs and the betrayal that caught in your throat. You knew men were not faithful creatures, and even though part of you had known Aemond had been no different–not with how you have heard the servants speak on a couple occasions–but foolishly, you had hoped that he had been a man of his word. Another naive part of you truly did believe him when he said he would have no other woman.

Whatever she was doing, however she was doing it and no matter that it was your name that fell from his lips, Aemond was enjoying it. He was praising her–telling her she was his, telling her she was doing so well and letting himself get lost in the pleasure she was giving him.

It was painful to watch and you cursed your body for yearning so badly for reprieve. You’d become soaked, thighs slick from where you’d dripped down. But you would be damned if you gave in and as Aemond’s hips started jerking, his strained grunts becoming desperate as he chased the peak he was nearing, you pushed yourself away from the door and ran back towards your own chambers.

The entire scene had seared itself into your brain and you trembled as you shut yourself away in your bedchambers, ignoring whatever questions Ser Tunsley had been asking you.

Who was that woman? You couldn’t make sense of all the questions that flooded your brain. The emotions that fought for dominance. How had they met? Was she a whore?

Did they see you?

Your mind replayed the way he’d groaned your name, unable to help yourself from whimpering at the memory. It didn’t make any sense. Aemond was clearly thinking about you yet he had never so much as spared you more than a heated look - he had never even given you a kiss.

Aemond had never been so comfortable with you. Not the way he was with her. The way he let her say his name–free of his title, like she was his equal. You had only addressed him without title once, on the night of your wedding.

You laughed. How silly this all was.

Despite your arousal, and regardless of your hurt, you were angry.

How dare he? Did he think so little of you?

Did he love her? Is that why he never tried for you?

It was infuriating. And there was little you could do about it. But nonetheless, you saw an opportunity through the tears you scolded yourself for shedding over a man who never gave you what you deserved.

Aemond would regret it. And he’d learn that his wife was the only woman who could give him what he needs. But for now, you let yourself grieve the Aemond you had led yourself to believe was real. The man who held your hand in his and told you that while he couldn’t be the husband you wanted, he would never disrespect you so much as to let another woman into his bed.

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago

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Hello hello! I dunno if you’re taking request but I was thinking if you can write smth silly about reader pulling the “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine” trend on Ford :3

You didn’t know how you had gotten put in this predicament where you were standing behind Ford, all the while Mabel was hiding behind the doorway -phone in hand- as she gestured for you to grab Ford by his waist and pull him in close.

Oh wait you did know exactly how you had gotten in this because Mabel came up to you that very same morning, phone in her hand as though it was super glued there, as she shown you this trend couples were doing for public validation and praise; and or to rub their relationship in the publics face.

‘What am I-‘

‘Just watch.’ Mabel exclaimed as she pointed to her phone that she had shoved under your face just as the man grabbed his girlfriend by the waist and pull her in close in tandem with the lyrics; ‘fellas grab your ladies if your ladies fine.’ Just as the video ends and goes back to the beginning.

‘And what was I meant to take away from that exactly?’ You questioned, not understanding the point of anything that was presented to you, especially so early in the morning where all you wanted to do was enjoy your morning drink without having to think so hard. However there’s never been a quiet morning in the Pines household in the history of forever, and each time a member of the Pines Family was usually the source of the unrest.

Ford trying to catch his anomalies that somehow snuck into your room

Stan loudly complaining about his aging body while burning the pancakes because he wasn’t paying attention to it.

Wendy’s loud ass snores. She’s always hanging out at the shack so often you might as well consider her apart of the family as well alongside Soos, Candy and Grenda.

Dipper being Dipper

And now Mabel with this supposedly popular couples trend. You couldn’t catch a break but you loved this family and Ford too much to care about how early it was for their shenanigans.

‘You and Ford should totally do the trend!’ Mable said as she beams at you. ‘The people would love a cute nerdy couple like you two!’

You chuckled as you ruffled the energetic girls’ hair affectingly. ‘I highly doubt your Grunkle Ford would want any part in it, he’s been in the lab all week on a recent discovery. What it is he wouldn’t tell me. He only ran into our room one day to scream THEY’RE PROCREATING and left for the lab.’

‘Please! Please! Please!’ Mabel cried as she clasped her hands together and gave you the cutest pair of puppy eyes ever as you felt your resolve crumble the longer you stared into your niece.

‘Fine.’ You playfully groaned as you allowed the young girl to drag you by your arm and lead you down into the lab where Ford was, only to shove you awkwardly close to Ford while she hide near the doorway, phone in hand.

‘Hello darling.’ Ford greeted without looking up from his work, he claims he could tell apart your footsteps from the rest of his family, but you just assumed that Stan or Dipper or Mabel kept coming down and Ford took the opportunity to learn how each of his family sounded when coming down the stairs through specific things they did.

‘Hello sweetheart.’ You greeted back as you could see Mabel practically on the brink of bursting into confetti with how hard she tried to contain her excitement.

‘Grab him by the waist.’ Mabel mouthed, her eyes becoming comedically large glittery stars. ‘Grab him by the waist!’

You looked back at Ford who was leaned over his desk, looking over his work throughly with his brows furrowed and his glasses slightly drooping off his nose. He looked handsome when he was concentrating but in your eyes Ford was always handsome even when he was explaining to you dungeons, dungeons and even more dungeons.

You looked back at Mabel who had her phone In front of her -most likely recording you- before you took a deep breath and brought your hand to Ford’s waist, quickly pulled him close to you so that his back rested against your chest. Poor Ford was a flustered mess, his cheeks were aflame, his eyes were wide and you could feel how stiff his body was against yours, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked in the moment.

‘What’s the meaning behind this y/n.’ Ford asked as he tried to calm his excepted heart rate and regain composure.

You kissed his cheek before nuzzling it slightly. ‘Did you catch all that Mabel?’ You asked, much to Ford’s confusion. ‘Mabel?’

‘Yes! I caught all of that!’ She cried as she popped out from her hiding spot, ‘this is going on the family group chat!’ She adds as she bolts up the stairs giggling and squealing to herself at how cute you and her grunkle Ford were, leaving you and Ford alone.

‘Sorry sweetheart, her puppy eyes are my weakness.’ You confessed as you rested your head against his shoulder, still holding onto his waist and breathing in his scent that never failed to relive you and any and all stress. Ford chuckled as he moved his head to kiss the top of yours, smiling fondly at your weak spot for his grandniece and nephew. ‘It’s alright darling, just let me know next time before you do something so bold, my old heart can only take so many surprises.’ He joked as he rested his hand atop of your own, rubbing the back of it soothingly.

‘I promise.’ You mumbled softly against his shoulder. ‘But you did look cute all flustered, do you like being grabbed by the waist?’ You then asked, only to receive silence on Ford’s and, which made you life your head from his shoulder to see that he was cover the lower half of his face with his hand.

‘Cute.’ You thought yourself, you might do this more often if this is the response you get, it was a power trip you didn’t know you needed over your cute but extremely smart fordsy.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #ford pines x you #ford pines imagines #ford pines imagine #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #stanford pines imagines #stanford pines imagine #stanford pines x reader

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motherlvr · 2 years ago

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hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

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fxrmuladaydreams · 11 months ago

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Hiii!! For Oscar's weekend could you do a sfw fic where Oscar and reader have been friends for a few years, reader is an F1 journalist, they met when she started working at the paddock, and they compliment each other well, she's really sunshine-y and bubbly, speaks a lot, but also has anxiety, and Oscar is, well, Oscar. They are out or smth and a guy starts bothering reader, so Oscar goes over to her and says he's her boyfriend or something and kisses her. Then I'll let you choose the rest, with the prompt: "There's a reason why I kissed you, you idiot" or smth like that?

Thank you, and sorry if this doesn't make too much sense, it's my first request, thank youuu.

send in requests (sfw & nsfw) for oscar weekend

The two of you were perfect for each other, a match made in heaven. Anyone in the paddock could see it, lord knows Oscar’s had to deal with Lando’s endless teasing about it. Even fans could see it in interviews, though they couldn’t really see you, they could clearly see the lovestruck look on the Aussie’s face as he listened to you ask him questions.

It wasn’t uncommon for the journalists and the drivers to form a sort of relationship, with the overlap of retired drivers that had decided to try their hand at commentary, but an actual friendship was rare.

Even then that didn’t stop a friendship from blooming with the younger McLaren driver. A friendship that often toed the line between platonic and romantic.

You found yourself spending more and more time at the McLaren garages, at first hoping to catch a glimpse of the young Australian, but now because he had mentioned that he’d like to hang out with you whenever you had free time in the paddock.

Photos and videos of the two of you in the paddock had begun to surface. Most of which were of you talking, usually looking down at the ground or your hands that were gesturing around, with Oscar tilting his head down, listening intently to every word from your mouth with a smile on his face.

Fans had begun comparing the two of you to Rapunzel and Flynn Rider, posting side by side photos of the two of you, and Rapunzel and Flynn on the boat. You blushed and waved them off when they were sent to you, positive that people were looking too far into your relationship with Oscar, that he simply thought of you as a friend, nothing less, and nothing more.

You were wrong of course, so very wrong. Oscar adored you. He loved having you around, he felt it was easier to open up. He had been so passive during his rookie season that it had become a label for him to wear. With you around, he felt like he could let his true personality shine through. He could make sarcastic quips and could be more outgoing.

So of course he’d asked you to accompany him to a club Lando had insisted they go to after a race weekend. You agreed, knowing that it wasn’t really Oscar’s scene, nor was it yours but you knew you’d go anywhere if it meant you were going with him.

You made sure to keep close to Oscar while in the club, both of you tucked away in a corner. You tried to ignore the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist and the heat radiating from his body as you stood pressed against him.

He kept his eyes trained on the crowds in the club, knowing full well that if he were to look down at you he may end up doing something he’d regret.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks.” He leans down to say in your ear.

You nod up at him, giving him a small smile. The smile falls off your face as soon as he steps away. You feel even more crowded than you did when Oscar was there. There are people everywhere, and you quickly lose sight of Oscar as he makes his way to the bar.

“Hey.” A voice says next to you.

It’s a man, a man that happens to be standing far too close for your liking.

“Hi.” You say, taking a step back.

He gives you a smirk, looking you up and down. “What are you doing here all alone?”

You glance in the direction Oscar went, still unable to see him, then at the DJ booth, where Lando stands with a few other people, unaware of anything outside his little circle.

“I’m actually here with-”

“Her boyfriend.”

You turn to see Oscar and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. He stands tall, his chest puffed out a bit, and his eyes daring the offending man to continue talking to you. One of his arms wraps around you, pulling you into his side.

“You can be on your way now.” Oscar grits out.

“Sorry man, I didn’t realize she was taken.” The man raises his hands as if surrendering and melts back into the crowds.

“Thanks Os, he was making me really uncomfortable.” You tell him.

“I could tell.” He furrows his brows, still looking into the crowd. “He’s watching us.”

One of your hands instinctively holds onto his bicep. “What should we do?”

Oscar could see the man making his way towards them again. He gently cups your face so you’re looking up at him.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

People say they experience fireworks and butterflies when they kiss the person they love. Neither of those is true for your kiss with Oscar.

The club feels silent, or muted. Like everything has gone quiet in your world except for Oscar. All you can focus on is his body as it leans into yours, his hands as they move from your face to the back of your head, how his hair swoops down brushing against your forehead.

You feel dizzy when he pulls away, disoriented. He clears his throat, and turns to look back into the crowd again.

“He’s gone.”

“Good.” You squeak out, trying to compose yourself.

You stand together awkwardly, both of you afraid of what has happened between you.

“Do you wanna head back to the hotel?” Oscar asks.

You nod.

He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the exit, making sure to keep you in front of him.

The walk back to the hotel is filled with more awkward silence. You can’t help but notice he’s keeping a larger distance between you than normal.

“Are things going to be… different? Between us?” Oscar asks. He keeps his head down, too afraid to look at you.

“Do you want things to be different?” You ask him quietly.

He huffs out a laugh. “There’s a reason why I kissed you.” He glances over at you, then sighs. “I mean, it was something I wanted to do for a while now. I guess it took some dickwad making you uncomfortable for me to finally get the balls to do it.”

You let out a laugh at his phrasing. “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you take his hand in yours, linking your fingers together “I’ve wanted that too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him closer.

“Good, then you won’t mind if I do it again? For real this time?”

“Absolutely not.” You grin up at him.

#oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #oscar weekend

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svgvru · 1 year ago

Text

✮ 𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗘𝗗: idk if you'll accept this request, but some jjk men x male reader head-canons of them taking care of depressed!reader? (they're secretlyin love with him) maybe a gf or friend died or smth and they notice reader is becoming depressed?

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! ꒰ gojo, geto, nanami, yuuta / m!reader ꒱: mentions of death,depression, weight loss, panic attacks, ptsd, and anxiety. angst, hurt/comfort, these hcs are alot take caution.

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 isnt for the faint of heart, but sometimes there is no choice. and something that comes with the price of being a sorcerer is that death constantly surrounds you. whether or not your partner is a sorcerer or not, they could be killed at any moment. and you were aware of that, but in the moment pain unlike any other struck. it hurt, it burned, it made you want to throw things, fight, anything to relief the pain. they watched when you brutally killed the cause of your partner's death, anger and grief coated on your face. it hurt for them to see you like this. so broken, unlike how you are normally. when they wished they were with you, that you didn't already have someone, thi sis not what they meant. so they do everything in their power to help you feel better.

SATORU GOJO

꒰ satoru would be the man to give you some space. whether it was him during his teenage years or him in his adult life. he understands how it feels to lose someone, and to grief. so at first he gives youspace, offering help to you if you need it, carefully keeping watch on you while sticking to a distance. and after a while, bandage or blindfold, he could tell something was wrong. you stopped talking, stopped eating, your uniform didn't quite fit anymore. he didn't notice it until he thought about the times youpushed away his generous offers of sweet treats. he noticed the eyebags, and the dullness of your once bright eyes. he had to help.

꒰ the regret (PTSD) that he wasn't able to save his best friend years ago still stuck to him. he mentally punished himself for missing the signs that something was wrong, that suguru needed. there was no way, he was going to let the man he loves so much reach the level that suguru went to. he quicklyand desperately lunged to help. he reached out hishand and no matter if you pushed him away, cursed him out, threw something at him, he'll drop infinity and wrap you in his gargantuan arms and gave you ahug you desprately needed. he gives you the intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on his shoulder, just holding you, no matter how long it takes, he'll hold you until you fall asleep in his arms. he'd never put you down, he probably wouldn't say a word.

꒰ talk? he'll listen. need to punch something? he'll train with you. his hands were gentlewith you, they wipe away your tears and hold you close, giving you the warmth you so desperately need. and slowly but surely he'l encourage you. he'll delicately push you to hang out with him and shoko once in a while. he'll hand you small meals that get abit bigger after a certain time. he'l give you his sweets and ever so carefully slide his hand intoyours. and if you jerk back he won't get mad, hell be hurt, but he understands. he respects your boundaries. but if you let him hold your hand, you'll see the happiest satoru giggling about some prankhe pulled on nanami. he'l slowly do somewhat romantic things, or he'll plan things that force you to socialize.

꒰ would carefully test the waters with you throughtout the years. he never wanted to be too soon with making his feelings known, so he was patient and waited until you looked much healthier. he waits until you finally start choosing to social,choosing to smile, to go on missions again. satoru gojo loves you, he always will, even if you don't love him back. but he'll always make subtle tries. whether it be jokes or slight touches, testing what he can and cannot do. regardless, he's there for you. no matterwhat. he might not be the best at communicating his emotions, or comforting your own. but he lets you know he's there, waiting with a free hug. as afriend or boyfriend. and if he gets to call you his husband? that's even better.

SUGURU GETO

꒰ suguru would also be someone who tries togive you space, but he just doesn't. like most jujutsu sorcerers do, he understands the pain of losing someone. and he knows what happened to himself after amanai's death. he never wants you to go through the same struggle he went through. so while he'l let you grieve how you do, he's paying close attention to and sticking to you, making sure youdon't decline. he'd do anything for you to make youheal correctly instead of just temporaryily stapling the wound like he did. whether that be sitting fully clothed in the bath with you, or being the big spoon and holding you for hours. if you just couldn't keepup with your hygiene like you used to, he'l cut your hair for you, help you brush your teeth. if you really need help bathing, he'll help with that too. he'll just remain extremely concerned for your wellbeing.

꒰ when i say watches you, i mean watches you. there's no "summer stress" excuse with him. (i think) he's one to be gentle with you, while be firm. he's not one to yell at you, but will use a stern voice to encourage you if need be. if you are one to have panic attacks, the first time it happened, it freaked him out. he pretty much didn't leave you after that. however, he learned how to calm you down, how to help. its hurts him to see such a strong man so ruined, and the curse that harmed your partner was by far one of the worst tasting ones. but no matter what, he'll hold you. your back to his chest and his arms wrapped securely around you, encouraging you to take deep breaths, attempting to ground you in any way he could.

꒰ this experience is probably one where the two of you get closer. he'd never, push you too far, or even try anything intimate with you unless you let him. the farthest he's ever gone is maybe a hug that he got a nod of approval for. but if you need it, he'll cradle your head to his chest and likely hum to get you to fall asleep (something he used to do with nanako and mimiko). after a while, his humming isone of the only ways to get you to fall asleep. and he'll do it everytime without fail. suguru wants you, he does. and every night he hums to help you sleephe wishes he could hold you and kiss your foreheadhe wishes he could provide more intimate comfort, he wouldn't dare ask for. however, when your eyes bags start to disappear and your no longer looking as ifyour lugging around your limbs he finds the tiniest bit of hope. but no matter what, suguru is a man of consent. and he'll wait, and wait. carefully takingcare of you, treating you like glass, while hee ncourages you do things. he'll wait until he can finally hold your hand. the time suguru geto would wait for you never has a limit. he'll always wait for you, whether it be with a comforting hug or a kiss.

KENTO NANAMI

꒰ who better to understand you than him? kento nanami who lost his other half, Yuu Haibara, at the age of 16. he understands perfectly, which is why he doesn't leave you alone. if you explicitly ask for space, he'll give it to you. but otherwise, he's not leaving you be at all. he knows your a strong man, he's seen you fight. but nothing could break a man more than losing the person he loves. and he saw you lose your person and his heart broke along with yours. this man cannot stand seeing you sad ordepressed. the second he notices signs that go beyond the five stages of grief, he interferes. like suguru, he's one to be gentle while using a firm tone. he'll hold you like you're glass, but he'll also drag youalong to supervise gojo's students. he'll let you pour your feelinga out on him, but he'll tell you eat a quarter, then a half, then three-fourths, then the whole meal. he won't be aggressive, but he'll still be like.."eat" (gradually over time though! he doesn't want to push you that rough).

꒰ now he coped by being a workaholic, if your that type he has to dive into hypocrite mode and tell you to sit down for once. if you don't cope that way, but another negative way, he will do anything in hispower to stop you. if something he does in particular comforts you, then he'll keep doing it. he'll speak to you calmly, and let you rest your head on hisshoulder despite not being a touchy person. if need be he'll let you sleep over at his apartment and personally cook you breakfast. and despite how annoying gojo may be, kento does recognize that he often raises the atmosphere of the room to being more playful, so he does suggest hanging out with gojo and his students a lot.

꒰ now he's not an intimate person, and i don't think he'd ever try anything intimate with you. he understands that loosing a part of you hurts, and he would never accidentally hurt you by trying to be bold. he'salso not a physically intimate person. so yes, he does love you, so much. he'd do anything for you, but he'd never outright say or show it, especially after your tradegy. even years later, he'd likely not say much about his feelings. someone like gojo would have to convince him to say something to you or else he'l be stuck with the feeling unrequited love till the day he dies. but regardless, he respects boundaries and doesn't try to be as risky. if you don't like him, he'll have to deal with that. if you do decide to give it atry, he's literally ecstatic, but only in his head. he'll give you one his rare smiles and maybe hold yourhand.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

꒰ (OH GOD). yuuta's almost sharing the experience with you. he's re-experiencing what he went through, and he hates it. not that he would regret his relationship rika, but rather he hates that he has to experience you going through what he had to. hes so scrambly and worried. his mind is constantly running through different thoughts and how to help you. he likes you, so of course hell help you. but how? he gets anxious that he's bothering you, thathes making the process worse as he tries to stick toyou and let you talk about it him. (oh, its over for him if your an angry griever). regardless, yuuta has good ears. as in he's a good listener. he'd let you ramble, scream (he'd jump), cry, anything. he'd listen to youand validate your feelings. if you'llet him he'd carefully play with your hair and tell you he understands, he'l tell you how he'll do anything to help. i also think he's fantastic at hugs. to matter how jittery or anxious he may be, if you need a good hug and shoulder to cry on, he's right there.

꒰ when it comes to your physical health, he doesn't play. he's still kind of nervous when it comesto encouraging you. but if he starts to notic eeyebags, or loss in your weight (trust. hell notice), he immediately does everything in his power to help you. and he tries to be as happy as he can, thinking that maybe his happiness would eventually spread to you, or at least boost your attitude. he'd run to youwill a meal the both of you can share so you don't feel intimidating by having to eat a whole meal again, if you stopped. he'd suggest the both of you getting haircuts together if you let your hair grow too long. when it comes to stuff like that he suggets doing it together so you don't feel alone, so you don't feel like your terrible for letting this happen. if your hygiene got bad he'd never ridicule you or anything. yuuta would tell you its okay and like i said, offer getting haircuts for the both of you, offer getting clothes together, he'd try and encorperate your schedules together without being too pushy.

꒰ yuuta would be very nervous when it comes to the fact that he still loves you. the last time he was remotely in love with someone, he got hit by car and he accidentally cursed her. he's never really experienced healthy romance, or a a healthy life. he never really desired love, with the assumption rika would always come in between, preventing him from having healthy human interactions. but when it came to you, he's never wanted a relationship so bad. and he still wants you, but in understanding what its like to lose someone you love, he never pushes. he never tries to touch you too intimately or suggest intimate things. he's patient, he'll wait for you if he needs to. even if you don't like him like that, he'll always be available to you as someone you can go to for anything. he'd be in pain just like he was when you started dating someone else. but he knows its painful and hard to come back from losing someone so important. if you do heal, if you do want him like he wants you, he'd probably cry. but for right now he'll just remain someone you could trust and talk to.

꒰ n: repost from my original acc! i still hope i did this, and their characters, justice tho. ꒱

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bunji-enthusiast · 1 month ago

Note

Hello!!! Could you do another cuddling one shot with Lancelot in his fox form and a fem reader

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐱’𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Sypnosis [As written in the request]

Character [Lancelot]

Note || this was nice… thank you for this one lovely!! And an honored mention of @svpremedeity since I saw they want to mention when I write smth for Lancelot—I think. I hope that’s okay lmao.

It was an unusually calm evening at the camp, the sky above painted in hues of purple and gold as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. You were nestled under a warm blanket, the soft crackling of a nearby fire filling the air with a cozy ambiance. After a long day of traveling and adventuring, all you wanted was to relax, perhaps catch up on some rest, and enjoy the quiet. But the world, as always, had other plans.

Lancelot—well, Sin as he preferred to be called in his fox form—had been unusually attached to you that evening, constantly at your side as though he couldn’t get enough of your company. It wasn’t uncommon for him to seek comfort in your presence, but tonight, there was something different in the air. His strawberry-red fur looked even more striking under the golden light of the fire, and his playful eyes never strayed too far from you.

"Hey, Sin. What’s going on with you today?" You chuckled, reaching out to gently scratch behind his ears, a gesture you knew he enjoyed. His eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a soft, almost contented sigh, his body growing slack in your arms.

"Nothing," he muttered, his voice more hoarse than usual. "Just... tired, I guess."

You raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-concerned. "Tired? You? The ever-energetic fox prince of Benwick?"

Sin’s magenta-red eyes opened, and he gave you a sly grin. "I’m not always energetic," he said with a dramatic flair. "Sometimes, even a powerful knight like me needs rest."

You laughed, the sound light and soothing, as you gently scooped him up into your lap. It wasn’t the first time you’d shared a quiet moment like this, though you were starting to notice that these moments were becoming more frequent. You supposed it was only natural—after everything that had happened between you two, after the battles fought and the trust built—it made sense that he’d want to stay close. But tonight felt different. There was something more tender about the way he curled up against you, the way his fox form seemed to lean into your touch as though the weight of the world was momentarily lifted.

"Come on, I know you're not really tired," you teased, running your fingers through his soft fur. "You just don’t want to admit that you enjoy cuddling with me."

Sin’s ears twitched, and for a moment, you swore you saw his cheeks turn a little pink under the crimson fur. "I-I do not!" (and for nearly the first time) he stammered, though his voice was more flustered than he would have liked to admit.

You smirked, brushing a lock of hair from your face. "It’s okay," you said softly, "I enjoy it too. It’s nice to have someone around, especially after everything we’ve been through."

There was a brief silence between you, the weight of your words lingering in the air. Sin’s tail flicked lazily as he snuggled closer into your chest, his small, fluffy body growing heavier in your lap. You could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, and for the first time in a long while, it struck you just how much you meant to each other. He might be a prince, a knight, and a force to be reckoned with, but in this moment, he was just a young man seeking warmth and comfort.

His voice broke the silence, low and almost bashful. "You’re not like the others."

You blinked, not quite sure what he meant. "What do you mean?"

He let out a sigh, his tail curling into a tighter ball. "Most people are scared of me, or they’re intimidated. But not you. You’re... different."

You smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Well, I’m not scared of you, Lancelot," you said, using his true name as if to reassure him. "You’re a bit of a troublemaker, but you’re also someone I can trust. Besides, who could be afraid of a cute fox like you?"

His eyes widened slightly, and then he huffed, his tail twitching in a playful manner. "I’m not cute," he protested, though the corners of his lips betrayed him, curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

"Sure you’re not," you said, teasing him with a soft laugh. You could feel his little fox form growing more relaxed in your lap, his breath even and slow.

"You know," you continued, running your fingers through his fur again, "you really are something special. I never expected the prince of Benwick to be so..." You paused, trying to find the right word. "So... endearing."

Sin’s eyes glinted with a mischievous shine, and he shifted slightly, his tiny paws resting against your chest. "Well, you do have good taste," he said, though there was no hiding the hint of pride in his voice. "It’s not easy being so... charming."

You raised an eyebrow and looked down at him with mock incredulity. "Charming? Are we still talking about the same fox here?"

"Hey!" he squeaked, swatting lightly at your hand with one of his tiny paws. "You’d be surprised at how charming I can be when I’m not too busy saving your life."

You laughed, the sound ringing out through the quiet night. "Alright, alright, you win. You’re charming."

His fluffy tail swayed back and forth in contentment as he settled even deeper into your lap. "That’s more like it."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence again, the fire flickering nearby. It was moments like this, where everything felt still and perfect, that you cherished the most. There were no battles to fight, no enemies to face—just you and Lancelot, in this strange yet comforting little bubble of peace.

But it wasn’t long before his voice broke the silence once more, this time quieter, almost thoughtful. "I’m glad I met you," he murmured, his words soft but sincere.

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t say anything right away, unsure of how to respond. You had never been one to expect such tender words from him, let alone from a prince who had spent so much time hiding behind his fox form. But the sincerity in his tone was undeniable.

"I’m glad too," you whispered back, your fingers gently stroking his fur. "You’re one of the most important people in my life, Lancelot."

There was no need for any more words after that. The fire crackled, the night stretched on, and the two of you sat there, quietly together, as the world continued to turn.

And for once, there was no rush to go anywhere, no hurry to be anything other than what you were: two souls who had found comfort and warmth in each other’s presence.

Sin, the playful fox prince, had become something much more in your eyes. And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what both of you needed.

#mokushiroku no yonkishi lancelot #lancelot 4koa #lancelot mokushiroku no yonkishi #lancelot 4kota #lancelot x y/n #lancelot x you #lancelot x reader #lancelot

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zeyris-daydreams · 2 years ago

Text

Betrayal?

╰─➤ Tartaglia x reader

So I tried rizzing Childe bot and they were smart so I wrote smth inspired on that. Not smut this time wow!! But it's implied they fuck

//not stated whether reader has a vision or not, in which you want to leave the Fatui. (Or in which you end up getting demolished by a harbinger)

「––––––––––♡––––––––––」

You were one of the lower rank Fatui members who worked under the eleventh Harbinger, Tartaglia. Although very far from having a position of significance, you still bumped into the Harbinger quite a lot.

You weren't that good at that fighting, nor you could spy that well. And yet for some reason here you were again, in some training area with Tarta- Childe. He'd rather you call him that.

Being in the fatui was mostly caused by your desperate want to get out of poverty. Being in the Fatui gave you many opportunities, whether it was the financial stability, or traveling to fulfill your duties.

Most importantly, being in the Fatui easily allowed you access to information from around the world. Even if now it was unnecessary.

After finally snapping out of your thoughts you noticed that the harbinger had his hand out for you, and you took it. With ease he pulled you from the floor. "If you keep being such a lightweight you'll hardly stand a chance in combat"

He always said that. It didn't matter if you exercised to put on more muscle, or took heavier weapons. Childe only said it to make fun of you in some way or another, these dead ocean blue eyes focused on you for a moment, before he looked to the entrance of the training area.

"I will hardly need to stand a chance in combat" you murmured, still in thought. Maybe you didn't realise what you said, taking your weapon to walk over to the wall, leaning against the pillar. At least you had some water near you, taking the bottle to drink.

You weren't sure why, but the harbinger had an odd habit of flexing his vision, simply using it to collect a round droplet of water, popping it into his mouth. It sure felt odd.

"Why?"

Maybe the question only clicked now. "Why what?"

"You said you'd hardly need to stand a chance in combat, I'm asking why. Or is it that you want to keep being beaten by your superior?" He snickered, jabbing you lightly in the side with his elbow. "Hey- no?"

Truth was, you hardly had the will to fight. It was always terribly hard to get out of the Fatui, but aside from having somewhat of a stable life now, you had no much reason to be there.

Working under the eleventh Harbinger was odd, in fact you applied to work under Columbina. And yet you only had the qualities that barely fit for Tartaglia's standard.

So you took the job that was left for you, to work under him. It wasn't the most desirable, but after months you simply get used to that.

Uncomfortable things become eased into you as your brain adapts to reduce stress.

Increase survival. And working with Childe was hardly ever a stable experience.

"Oh, sorry. I was honestly really deep in thought, theoretically speaking. The seargant I was working with left the Fatui, so I wonder what happened with him"

You played with the bottle that held your water, not daring to look at Childe. By then you knew his tricks; even if he'd ask and avoid the topic, play pretend, he was smart. Like a fox, cunning. Quiet.

Waiting.

"After a while you simply get used to other people, so I meant to ask if he's still alive, even after committing such a thing."

Childe was quiet, his gloved fingers swiping down the edge of his bow. "Whatever happened to him, it's not something you should worry about." He started. Oh man. "After all it's not like you'd be dumb enough to want to meet the same fate as him, hm?"

"Oh n-no of course not. But, if they.. if they had a good reason?"

You were in the Fatui, and you knew how to lie. How to twist and manipulate, but Childe? He had such a weird effect on you. Even if you weren't lying you'd stutter and stumble over your own words. Usually you avoided as much as being in the presence of men for too long, sticking with the lovely cicin Mage's. They fought well, but if you got to know them in person, they were lovely most of the time.

Ah you digressed again. Childe didn't seem convinced, raising his brow at you with a blank expression, at which you looked away again, focusing on your water.

Water.

Your bottle was empty.

"..a good reason? No reason is good enough to do such a foolish mistake. What good reason could you have? What could he so convincing that you'd turn against the Fatui? Against the Lord Tsaritsa and, well, me?"

You felt the need to make sure he didn't have wrong ideas. (He figured you out)

"Don't worry– I was just teasing. I may be stupid but I'm not THAT stupid" you tried to joke to release some of the tension.

It did not work.

Awkward silence followed, one that tightened your gut. It was a game of cat and mouse by then, you knew he knew. And he was aware that you realised it, and still neither of you spoke about it straight up.

"I knew as much! You certainly couldn't betray the Fatui and have it work out. The Fatui would haunt you to the ends of the earth for treason, they would never let you rest until you'd be punished accordingly.

So you would certainly never do something so foolish, right?"

"No, no I was just teasing-"

"Just teasing, you say.. well, you certainly had me going! It would've been truly foolish to do such a thing, which is why the thought never crossed people's mind's"

Both his blood thirsty and that mocking, condescending side were true. He was like a coin. That drove you insane.

"I'm glad you were just teasing, because frankly, I didn't know how to respond! Enough of my prattle, how about another sparring match? Just to prove you seriously were never considering such treasonous thoughts?"

"I think I had enough for today, tho-"

"Nonsense. A good fatui soldier always looks for opportunity to indulge in self improvement"

Childe was too good at fighting, and you hardly ever beat him. You never even came close to beating him in the first place, because for some reason he always went so easy on you that you felt humiliated to even show your face.

He stood there out in the open, always giving you an opportunity to strike. At least his bow was charged.

"Come on, what are you waiting for?"

With a sigh you took the spear instead, to keep him at a distance. You didn't really use any elemental power for combat with Childe, you found that if you did (if you had a vision), then he'd be more likely to beat you down. In a way that was less than pleasant.

Aiming your weapon you decided to join him in the dance, for now taking the offensive stance, watching him dodge with ease, the end of your weapon scraping his shoulder.

"You're getting awfully good with that thing!"

Another dodge.

"You'd give me a real headache if you ever turned traitor and came to fight me with a real intent!"

Your blood went cold, and hot at the same time.

"But then again, I know you'd never do such a thing.."

Before you knew it, you had to start and be defensive instead, hardly managing to dodge the bow that he used to try and hit you. "Right?"

You were aware he figured you out, andd in that little stun he managed to take a hit on you this time, end of the bow hitting you in the ribs. With a wince you jumped back, it was a little weird to breathe.

The fight didn't go for long, he did tire you earlier after all, and before you knew it you were knocked off your feet, stumbling down on your back. "sshit-"

Childe simply grinned, close by then as his foot ended on your chest the moment you tried to get up. "ah-ah-ah, you lost."

It wasn't the first time. And you learned to take that loss. Maybe this time Childe didn't plan to just let you leave without giving him a reward.

"You are getting awfully unmotivated in these fights, ah it almost bores me. By suggesting such an offense, I should've killed you by now"

Once he saw you didn't try to get up again he crouched next to you, noticing the way you looked at your weapon. Before you could properly reached it he simply used his hand to shove it away. "As I said, you lost. And your punishment is up to me" he murmured, fingers grabbing your chin to force some eye contact at once.

"Come on Tartaglia, I was ju-"

"Childe"

"Childe- i just wanted to get a reaction out of you, come on" you laughed.

He wasn't convinced.

"Doesn't change the fact you've lost now, does it?"

He tapped at your jaw for a moment, staring into your eyes.

Everytime you saw that dead sea on his face, it felt like all the energy and motivation you had was lost.

Childe was such an ambitious man, and yet he felt like the most dead person you've met.

To say he was enthusiastic and void of life was both true and false at the same time, a living contradiction you needed to bear with.

Sometimes it was hard to predict which side peeked through to react. Working under him was simply like running on a path that changed directions constantly. That either had flowers or all sorts of broken glass shards, rocks.

Sticks.

Soon enough he finally let your chin go, looking at how the light shone at the center of the practice grounds. "oh, that won't do" standing up he grabbed your foot, hiss leaving you as he dragged you towards the center of the round hall. "Don't act feisty on me now, girly"

You were dragged all the way to where the light reflected from the windows, hissing as he stared down at you. Maybe you seemed compliant, but you knew how angry he could get at his plans being ruined. Maybe it was more fun to play along.

Before you could tell, Childe was sat near your legs, fingers walking up your thigh. At least Fatui uniforms were somewhat decent, modest. "let's just put you under one more trial. To really make sure if you were kidding"

"H-huh- I think I proved myse- hhA what the ffUck-" he held your thigh up, intrusive thoughts winning him over when he bit it despite the clothing on top.

Seeing you like that just made him bite, he was unsure why.

"–anyway. Now that you lost it's my turn to take my reward. Two birds with one stone, isn't that right?" His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, suddenly tugging you over to himself, even more so then before.

"Stay still for me, that will be enough of a proof"

#childe x reader #childe and reader #yandere childe #obsessive childe #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #fatui reader #yandere tartaglia

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feketeribizli · 1 month ago

Note

i meant to send shit for this one! emoji stuff for marci ofc 😌 gimme 🤔🤒💔💛🔱🍃🍝

kisses!!!! 😋🫶

🤔 what are some of your oc’s quirks/mannerisms?

teeth grinder... and he doesnt even know it because he mostly does it in his sleep. like he shags this girl he met after a regional in imola and she stays over and in the morning shes like dude you were fucking chomping down on air all night 😐 hes mortified. it sets him off so bad that now hes clicking his teeth when hes stressed

always stomps his feet a little whenever he enters like anything like be it the damn car he will make moves like hes cleaning his shoes on an imaginary doormat

🤒 does your oc get sick easily?

i wouldnt say per se... he will be the first one to contract shit from others tho. and he becomes a MAN when hes sick (victorian child on his deathbed bro would NAWT power thru a gp if he had pneumonia)

💔 what are three of your oc’s negative traits?

hmmm... gets a bit too wrapped up in his head but who doesnt? his father didnt raise no quitter but he raised a guy who blames himself for everything then bottles it all up

also he clings into shit for sooo long... i said somewhere smth like i want marci to think nando is mad at him etc etc and like a year later when hes established in the team everything good hes on his knees sucking cock and he would break away suddenly like hey were you really mad at me that one time. what were you made at me for and nando is like ??? boy youre so stupid get back in there. is alright cmon now

guess you could also say his hungarian temper but hes working on it 💪

💛 how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any?

hungarian and english of course 😁 learning spanish cause hes trying to pull two (2) spainards lol

🔱 can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

he loves swimming he loves water... thats all

🍃 what is/was your oc’s favorite subject in school?

that he didnt have to go 😭 or maybe the private teacher doing his homeschooling that his father was seeing at the time lol itd be something like arts and crafts tho

🍝 what is/are your oc’s favorite food(s)?

think ive mentioned a few things already like his moms cooking and sweet stuff but he also loooves soup. goulash fish soup májgaluska leves 🙏🙏🙏 bro would eat anything for real i should think about stuff he doesnt like

veggie creamsoups are his creme de la creme lmao

#btw i didnt realize that when i said berta is spanish... bro is the opposite of liam lawson he wants a piece of spanish speakers #(that includes carlos of course)#ask game #ask #marci #f1 oc #this is the ocs tag

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carnal-lnstinct · 2 years ago

Note

for the valentines day event, can I request smth for vegito with 💙💌? either goku or vegeta, or both, have a crush on you, and vegito confesses after saving the day. I just want it to be really sweet and cheesy, but I'll leave the rest of the story up to you, so you can write it however you want!

Vegito | love confession

content: ( implied pining!goku and/or vegeta, referenced pining, flustered vegito, confession, established friendship ) warning: ( referenced canon-typical violence )

I can feel it when you hold me, when you touch me, it's so powerful. - "Powerful"

Of all the things that could have surprised Vegito today, a congratulatory and very tight hug from you was the most effective. The moment he dropped the energy barrier, it was like you were magnetized to him. Drawn in by a moment of grateful relief after the life-or-death situation forced upon the Earth and the fused saiyan stepping in to outclass the evil once again.

The world was suffocating under the poisonous aura invading the atmosphere and crumbling to the pressure of the villainous force that brought it. Come to burn it all down in an effort to cross paths with the alleged powerful being meant to rival their own might. With options running low, Goku's quick thinking and instant transmission teleported him to the Realm of the Kais seeking a solution from the Supreme Kai while Vegeta stayed to guard the remaining untouched haven of Dende's lookout. But it was only a matter of time before something so dense with negative energy penetrated even the divine palace. Putting everyone you knew at risk, including yourself. Goku returned in a nick of time with Potara earrings and with minimal fuss from his saiyan countertop, Vegito came to life.

Naturally, the fusion wipes the floor with the evil invader, cleansing the earth of the poisonous energy in the process and returning to the gathering of all his friends when the deed was done. Thanking him was all you could think to do after all that, embracing him as you had once embraced your two friends on separate occasions just felt appropriate. Vegito's reaction to it, however, only mimicked one of them. The sharp flush of pink across his face is highlighted by his super saiyan features and easy for you to tell which personality it was from. Not at all what you would expect from the man who bantered and danced circles around an opponent who had the entire Earth backed into a corner. Vegito's smile following the color on his face was what really captivated you, somehow proud and modest all at once. But mostly content as he made no motion to leave your hold.

He attempts to brush off his blush, smugly rubbing his gloved finger across his nose. "You can count on us to handle it." Turning to look off the lookout at the restored atmosphere, he gave a proud grunt and folded his arms against his broad chest. Doing all of this while loosely held in your arms. "That was hardly worth the trouble of us fusing, if not for that repulsive energy. Oh well." He shrugs. Then he turns back to look down at you. "You're alright too, that's all that matters."

Your eyes twinkled looking up at him, delighted by his caressive tone and affectionate words. You withdrew your arms from around him to hold your chest, attempting to still the sudden rush of your heart. "You were worried about me?" You asked with a soft smile.

Pointing it out only makes the cocky fusion suddenly fluster, blue eyes widening and face darkening another shade. "I-It's not like that at all, you've got the wrong idea! I was just uh-...uh..." A loss for words, as well? Unlike him. The attraction held for you ran deep through his fused form. The gentle tilt in your head and joyful stare waiting for an answer was hard for him to deny and he's not certain why he is so paralyzed by it. To be gazed upon like this, held in your arms and become the object of your attention, felt like something he's always wanted. The mixed feelings between his two halves of owning up to his feelings settled into an inspiring sensation that flooded through him. "'I-It was only for a little while. I knew there was nothing to worry about once we fused".

"Ha, I knew it. You were madly in love with (y/n) all along!" One of your friends teasingly called out. "It's written all over your face!"

"Tch, You don't have to shout it to the whole world, we're right here." Vegito glowered. However, his face was still glowing in his awkward huff. It was then you pulled on his tucked arms to get him to lean over and placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

"It's about time you told me." You grinned. Correction, this was the most effective surprise.

#*MH4U #vegito x reader #vegito imagine #dbz imagine #dbz fics #My writing

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streamdotpng · 2 years ago

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I'm so sorry stream, I KNOW you said this AU is fluff dedicated but I can't just STOP THINKING about Wednesday and Baby Belle leaving Enid (suuuuper reluctantly)

You ended your drabble with "breaks" in italics and it just obliterated me because, what happens then ?

Is she catatonic ? Does she lose it ? Rage ? Tears ? Desperation ? And the way she (doesn't) cope with the fact that the two most important people in her life went away without a word ?

But there's also Wednesday, with a wailing Baby Belle, not crying but misty eyed saying again and again how it is for Enid's good, and who is she kidding, it was going too well. Something was bound to break.

But how do they meet again ? (They have to, it cannot end like that) Is Enid going to forgive her ? How will they mend what broke.

Stream it's not FAIR WHAT YOU DO TO MY BRAIN

Since I'm despairing over my shadowban, I'm opening my Spotify sad Playlist and turning it on so I get into the mood and answer this

Let's get it

Also yall, don't despair over enjoying my angst. Makes me really proud I could elicit a response like that. Not unless yall force the angst down my throat but that's bc I'm kinda a Lil bit of a hypocrite and bc this my blog and my interests so..

Anyways back to Enid, I meant it when she breaks.

She's a college student, she doesn't have alot of time to spend with others. Her family relationship is strained, her relationships with friends is strained bc she had to deal with a baby and potentially fighting for her life constantly so the one grounding thing in her life was baby belle.

And that's gone.

So like, Enid is a Lil hysterical.

At first she was 'shit, shit man did someone kidnap them?'

She barges into yoko's room, a huge mess. Her breath is heavy, she's sweating and her body is shivering like it wants to crumble into the floor and break apart but her family could be kidnapped and she needs to be strong right now.

It isn't until Yoko grabs Enid by the arms and mentions that Wednesday is demon royalty. There is no way she could be kidnapped without a fight. She's strong as hell, Enid! Yoko reminds and she looks worried. Take me to your room.

And Enid does, her body feels too real as she stumbles down halls and corners. It's like she's playing a first person game in her own mind. It took a bit before Enid can even open the door because her hand was shaking so in a fit of frustration at not even being able to do such a simple action- Enid kicks down the door.

A part of her hoped that she was dreaming as the two barges in. That the emptiness of her room was a mean prank. Wednesday was a little socially inept like that, didn't really understood humor like she did after all. Enid wanted that to be true but life doesn't love her and the room is as dead as it always been since she woke up.

She turns to yoko and she looks halfway like her whole reality is shattering. Her shoulders were tight and her chest was heaving as she spoke. "please- yoko, you have to know something-" it spills from her lips repeatedly as her hand tightened on the doorframe. The steel creaks and theres nails digging into it like a pencil to paper.

Yoko trusts her friend, she really does but she shrinks a little as hazed blue eyes become clouded with bits of purple.

"Enid.." she starts, careful as if trying to talk down someone about to do something they could regret. "your room is too clean-"

"I know that!" Enid shouts and the metal she holds breaks crumbles into smth thin, snapping in half as she pushes herself closer to the vampire. "I know that Yoko, tell me something that isn't the obvious!"

Yoko continues like Enid didn't just destroy a bar meant to be outcast proof. "-and all of baby belle's things are gone." a breath was taken and her next words are treaded carefully, as if she was about to step into land with mines. "I don't think this is just a kidnapping."

The silence was deafening and immedietely, Enid's posture dropped into nothing. She just stood there and Yoko watched with morbid fascination as once sky blue eyes shifted purple and her iris shrinks into tiny dots.

"I'm going to Weems," Enid grits out. There is no familiarity in her tone but simple cold fact. The principle was a normal shapeshifter but to the religious community, she was known for her contact with the Queen of hell, known for contacting Envy.

For contacting Morticia.

When the two friends reach her door, Weems was sitting there. She looked like she expected it, her hands crossed in her table as she takes in the ruffled sight of a nearly feral werewolf and the growing terrified vampire.

"it wasn't a mistake, Enid," Weems goes and theres a familiarity in her tone. Like she too, understands and that irritates Enid more than ever. Who is she, to try and relate? "Wednesday transferred out of Nevermore University last Friday."

Enid didn't take too kindly too that, didn't quite like the tone it was said and slams her hands onto the wood.

"well take her back then," she growls. If only it was ever that simple.

Weems stares back. "she's gone, Enid."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Weems interrupts, raising a hand. "us mortals can never be with demons, you need to accept-"

She couldn't even finish her sentence before her whole table was thrown out the windows behind her.

The crash is silencing as it breaks through stained glass. The tiny art shattering into nothing and there is now a new exit to Weems' room.

The chill of the open air is sobering and Weems understood the severity of the situation immedietely. Yoko stands there, having stepped back the moment Enid spoke and her mouth is agape. Stained glass is extremely sturdy, being glass that needed to be layered to make a piece and to see it break so easily-

Its scary and her eyes stare at the back of her best friend.

"Its going to take time," Weems starts again.

Enid tilts her head. "I have all the time in the world."

"I will need some materials if you want to visit the underworld."

"Say it and it's yours."

Its said like a fact and it makes Yoko's fingers twitch. Shit, Enid is serious.

Weems next words is a little hesitant as her eyes shift. "Enid, what if this wasn't a mistake?"

Theres a pause and something fills the air immedietely. It makes Yoko's breath hitch as if something sunk their hands into her lungs and grasped it tight.

Enid's words are slow, her voice a gutteral growl. "I'll burn the world when we reach that."

No one mentioned how the words didn't go that way

#demon baby au #Writing #Enid sinclair #Angst #In a way #The lost tiger

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fauxridium · 1 year ago

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What is exactly is the deal with pretty-boy-thamaturge? I know you reblogged a post about them and even though I'm not into that fandom that is, I checked to block anyway and they have you on a post that says ask to follow if you support him. They also made a post about a transmed stalking them, but I don't for sure know if they're referring to you, but I've been following you since you drew Zelda stuff and well, you definitely do not seem like one. Mainly I'm just concerned about their deal wit

The basic low down is that they're a self admitted conservative, pro cop, and are transphobic (even if they id as trans now, they still back up and support transphobic ideologies) so like. In general just not a good person with their world views lmao

I am Definitely not a transmed, if they were talking about me i have no idea where they would even get that from, i literally have transmed under my dni criteria in my carrd so. Lol, im also a very high fem non op trans man myself so me being transmed literally makes 0 sense fjskv

But to summerize my Personal issues with this person as best and as short as possible. I have osdd with a system member that kins faux and is not comfortable with doubles (they can cause very bad episodes of unreality that can become potentially dangerous for the body), they have did with a system member that kins faux and is not comfortable with doubles (for similar reasons as far as im aware), they joined a brc server im in (a public fandom server, not meant for kinnie stuff, mind you), and put in their intro like. Literally me no doubles or smth along those lines and listed faux, so I, in good faith, messaged them to let them know that i also kin faux and am not comfortable with doubles and would like to work something out so we could both be in the server and still be comfortable, they didnt take it well, ended up leaving the server (or being removed, still not sure what happened there because they were causing issues in the server Anyways), and then they proceeded to just be? Very weird fjeg, they had me blocked certain places, but didnt have me blocked on others, and would still try to interact with me as if we were chill. For some reason even tho i apparently trigger them (which. Idk if someone triggered me by just simply existing i wouldnt try talking to them DJDG), i ended up blocking them on everything once i was told about the kind of transphobic shit they were retweeting and them being a cop boot licker, and honestly. If anyone was doing any stalking it was them, because atp i simply forgot about it and redid my carrd to what it is now, and literally within a handful of hours of me doing it, like within the same night, i was told and shown that they redid their entire carrd to look basically exactly the same as mine, and even stole the icon i edited myself specifically for My carrd, the one im using as my icon rn, but they used the same bg and shit and while like. Everything else there could be plausible deniability on why it was the same. The fact that they took the icon i made myself just made it obvious they took everything from my carrd, they have since changed it a bit to look at least. A bit different, but are still using my icon lmao, so again, if anyone was the stalker in this situation it was def them because how would they see i changed my carrd That quickly after i had already blocked them and then. Choose to basically copy it if they werent checking my shit like. Is that not stalkerish behaviour DJSKG

Theres some other shit with them pretending to be a 3rd party to defend themselves in my bfs inbox but they ended up forgetting to hit anon on a follow up message they sent which basically just. Outed them for lying about being a third party who "doesnt know them very well but had to get on a call with them to calm them down" which like. Lol okay, mostly that's just cringe but also goes to show that they're not a trust worthy person who lies to try to defend themselves lmao

My main issues with them anyways isnt really with the personal shit, i dont like them for it sure, but i think the fact that they're trying to hide being conservative on tumblr while making it obvious on twitter by once again, interacting and retweeting from notoriously bigoted people and accounts is honestly deplorable, especially in a fandom that has a lot of trans people in it who def Would Not interact or associate with them if they knew the type of shit they were rting and posting on twitter. Hell they even admitted to being conservative themself in the replies of one of my posts, like. Idk PERSONALLY i just dont think we should allow for bigots in fandom spaces that are, again, full of many trans people. Also being pro cop but being into a game that is Very Anti Cop. Like how did you miss the point that bad lmfao

BASICALLY TLDR they are not a good or trust worthy person and anyone who is trans or anti cop or really have any morals at all should stay far far away from them lmao

EDIT: WAS JUST INFORMED THEY COPIED MY N$F￦ TWITTER HANDLE TOO. @ THIS PERSON IF YOU SEE THIS POST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR GODS SAKE FJSKGSGD

#long post

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