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maybanksbabe · 1 year

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𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋 | 𝐑. 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you'd assumed for the last 6 months that he'd lived nextdoor that your neighbour was just a very popular man with no end of female admirers spending the night at his place. Until a late night mark of desperation leads you to finding a very familiar face on your favoured XXX site...

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): pornstar!Rafe Cameron, language, mentions of and descriptions of sex and sexual content, *gasp* and they were neighbours!, Descriptions of masturbation (m + f), watching porn, oral (f) there's a lot going on lmao, if I missed anything lmk!

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: sex; cheat codes - church; chase atlantic - go fuck yourself; two feet

𝟷𝟾+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 - 𝙸 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙸𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺

It started on a weekend, about three weeks after Rafe Cameron had moved in next door in your apartment complex. The walls were just torturously thin enough that any time he had a... Lady friend over, you could hear every obnoxious, high-pitched moan he could get out of her. Whoever she was every other night. Sometimes in the morning, you'd see various sorry states leaving his apartment; smudged makeup, shoes in hands and a slight wobble in their step.

He seemed nice enough when you bumped into each other at the mail collection or laundry room. A stunning smile and a God-given body. With it being late July he found any excuse to walk around shirtless. Not that you really minded. There was no indication of what he did for work; you'd never seen him in any uniform or office attire and there was nothing else that pointed to any kind of obvious profession, keeping you guessing.

Then, on the hottest summer night so far, you found yourself unable to sleep, tossing and turning beneath tangled sheets that did nothing but make you more uncomfortable. And then you noticed the faint knocking next door and distinctly female moans.

Did he ever fucking stop?!

You could hear a backing of male moans too, but nothing more than faint grunts and moans that were almost drowned out by whichever woman he was pressing into the mattress. And yet, instead of being faced with disgust, there was a spark of something else. Jealousy? Perhaps. It made your stomach twist and between your thighs began to ache.

Instead of being vindictive and giving the wall above your head a few sharp pounds with your fist, you decided to be courteous. After all, you have no other reason not to get along with him. Disgruntled, you kicked your sheets off and grabbed your keys before moving out of your apartment to the corridor, taking five steps to the right and knocking on Rafe's door.

The moaning stopped and seconds later the door opened, revealing, much to your bewilderment, Rafe in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. His chest, neck, cheeks and ears were flush with a rosy burnish and a delicate gold chain rested against his collarbones.

"Hi -"

"Is this about the noise?" He was slightly breathless as he tried to fill the space between the half-open door and the door frame.

"Yeah, sorry I'm just a really light sleeper and I've got a busy day tomorrow -"

"Don't worry about it, we're almost wrapped up here. Just give us ten more minutes and I promise you won't hear from us again tonight," he replied with a coy smile. Something about his demeanour made you melt a little inside. His eyes are heavy as they travel up and down your body, taking in your choice of sleepwear and your sleep-deprived state.

"Tom and Jerry, huh?" At a glance, you saw that he was referring to your pyjamas. Heat crawled up your neck and cheeks.

"Don't be an ass. Just - please keep the noise down, yeah?" He held a hand up in surrender, a boyish grin on his lips.

"Alright, alright. Promise. Enjoy the rest of your night, sweetheart."

Not as much as you will, it seems.

At that, you retreated to the stuffy air of your apartment, soon after the lurid sounds continued, accompanied by the percussion of the headboard against the wall. But true to his word, ten minutes later it fell silent and the distant sound of a door shutting set your mind at ease.

A week later, if that, a barrage of more late nights listening to Rafe's conquests drew you to a final, desperate measure. Opening an incognito window on your phone's browser you went straight to your favourite porn site. If he could have fun at all hours, so help you God you could too. The noise from next door made you wonder what they were doing; doggy, reverse cowgirl, some kind of bondage perhaps? He certainly seemed like the type.

Surfing the categories for a few minutes gave you a spark of inspiration to go looking for a specific type of video. And the first account to come up in the results had you intrigued from the jump. You selected the most recent video, put your headphones in and pushed your free hand into your sleep shorts. Though as your fingers began to dip and delve between your folds and around your clit, a familiar voice in your ear made you stop.

"- fuck yeah, so fuckin' tight -" Wide-eyed you turned your attention to your phone screen. You knew that voice. You'd spoken to that voice in the laundry room on multiple occasions. And as your eyes adjusted to the brightness of your screen in the dark you saw it. That chain. Those abs. That jawline.

"Oh, my god..." Solo fun forgot about, you sat up and began scouring the page. There were dozens of videos. Some by himself, some with co-stars (both female and male), and others with more than one co-star. Regardless of the content of the videos you selected and skipped through, he looked good. No, he looked hot.

The video you were currently on, you couldn't bare to skip through or speed up, too transfixed on what Rafe was doing. Lay on a pristinely made bed, beneath a beautiful brunette woman who was currently sat on his face. Then it all made sense. The constant noise, the late nights and the never-ending line of people leaving his apartment. And why you could never figure out what he did for a living.

Your neighbour was a pornstar.

Your insanely hot, surprisingly nice neighbour was a very popular pornstar based on the subscriber count under his profile name.

But now felt compelled to watch more. To see more and get to know him. It was wrong but you didn't have many other options given how he normally reduced to you a blushing mess anyway. So up you stayed for another few hours, scrolling through the countless videos that caught your interest.

Your favourite one so far had been a video from a month or two ago, Rafe was on the sofa, the camera set up on the coffee table and his legs spread just wide enough in the grey sweats that you could see most of him before he'd even stripped down. He used a vibrating cockring to get himself off. The string of delightfully sinful noises came from him as he fucked his hand and used the ring on the most intense pattern had you clenching your thighs and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Another week rolled on and you delved deeper into Rafe's content, using it selfishly to get off to your burning needs when every morning you'd exchange a polite smile and greeting when you both happened to be collecting your mail at the same time. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose. Or he was. You hadn't been particularly reserved in your late-night self-indulgence and there's more than a chance that he's heard you on more than one occasion.

How you found yourself standing in front of his door on a Thursday evening you're not sure, but you had to say something. It had been quiet for a couple of days next door. So you knocked and waited patiently. Moments later the door swung open. Rafe greeted you with his signature coy smirk, a bowl of cereal balanced in one ring-clad hand, and the other resting on the door.

"Hey, what brings you here?"

"I - I need to talk to you..." you forced out whilst wringing your fingers together.

"Oh? Sure, come in." Rafe stepped aside and propped the door open with his foot to let you in. You found it incredibly difficult not to ogle him as you stepped around him, sweatpants slung low on his hips and a shirt nowhere to be seen. He'd definitely been soaking up the Summer sun too, now more tan than when he first moved in and there was a faint spray of freckles across his back and shoulders, obviously brought out by the extra sunshine.

"What's the problem?" He leaned up against the nearest counter as you both came to a stop in the kitchen.

"No... No problem. I don't think. Look, Rafe, you seem like a really nice guy -"

"Oh, God I don't like where this is going -"

"No! No, it's not bad but... I found you." Rafe set the now empty bowl into the sink and turned back to face you.

"Found me?"

"Don't make me say it," you pleaded, face already hot with embarrassment. That cocky demeanour started to take effect and with the way he looked, standing there half naked so casually had you struggling to find the words.

"Online. Okay? I happened upon your online profile and -" His laughter cut you off and the panic and embarrassment subsided momentarily.

"Don't be embarrassed, everyone watches porn," he stated with a shrug and stepped towards you, caging you in against the counter. It took all your willpower not to drop to your knees then and there.

"I just - just didn't want things to be awkward. Thought you might want to know... We're still just neighbours, okay?"

"Sure. Y'know I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out..." Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in. The scent of him was dizzying and you did the unthinkable. You kissed him. It transpired into a series of messy kisses, and obscene actions with tongues and teeth pressing and clashing.

A surprised gasp against Rafe's sinfully pink lips escaped you as he hoisted you onto the counter, large, hot hands on your waist, keeping you flush with him. Kissing Rafe was something you couldn't explain, it was a hungry, demanding exchange with languid tongues rendering you breathless.

"M' a big fan of your work," you confessed with a hot sigh against his parted lips, trying your hardest not to moan when he made contact with the column of your throat and his one hand made his way between your parted thighs.

"Yeah?" You made a noise of agreement but yelped when he tugged your soft cotton shorts down your legs, exposing your ass and the backs of your thighs to the cool surface beneath you.

"Don't - don't feel like you have to -" you panted, cut off by an unintentional moan as his fingers pressed against your underwear, adding a delicious kind of pressure against your aching clit. Your hand found his wrist, holding him there for a moment whilst his fingers teased you relentlessly.

"And what if I want to? Like I haven't spent the past couple of weeks listening to you play with yourself late at night when you think no one can hear you." His remark had you clenching around nothing,

"I -"

"You think I couldn't hear you? Watching my videos and moaning for me?" He kissed a line down your neck and bunched your t-shirt up so he could remove your panties, dropping them to one side. In your hazy state, you couldn't stop him from kneeling down in front of your bare cunt before he leaned in, making contact with an open mouth against your now-exposed clit.

"Fuck, Rafe -" you whimpered with a shaky breath as he used his mouth to get you off, suctioning around your clit with expert skill, his tongue adding just enough pressure and friction to have you dizzy already.

"Tell me all about it, sweets." You couldn't be sure if he was good at this because it was part of his job or if he was just that good, but in a matter of minutes, you were reduced to a whining, squirming mess on his kitchen counter, unable to form a coherent sentence. The pressure of a finger being added to your aching, wet cunt had you moaning even louder.

"Gonna cum for me? Hm? Wanna make a mess on my face?" All you could do in reply was moan. Unashamed and unhindered by the fact that any of the surrounding units might be able to hear you and that you were currently on your neighbour's kitchen counter being eaten out within an inch of your life by the aforementioned neighbour.

Practically grinding on his face, everything came to a dizzying peak. Eyes screwed shut, back arched off of the counter and your thighs trembling from their position over his shoulders, you came with a loud cry - a plea almost for the pleasure to last -

"That was hot," Rafe commented with a drawl as he eventually managed to free himself from between your previously tensed thighs. He made a point to stand up and offer the two fingers that had just been inside you. Some deep part of your subconscious didn't even hesitate to accept them in your mouth to clean them off.

"Good girl," he cooed with a wolfish grin.

-/-/-

@veescorneroftheworld @drewphyy @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @outerbankies

Just tagging a few who might be interested! Let me know if you want to be removed 🧡

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x f!reader #pornstar!au #pornstar!rafe #libra writes

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hanasnx · 6 months

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❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

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ystrike1 · 6 months

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Betrayal of Dignity - By KIMPA (8.5/10)

Sometimes, bad men make great Kings. This particular Duke is absolutely a yandere, but he's also after the throne. He's also one of the few obsessive male characters I can actually imagine in power. He knows how to plan ahead. He's horrible. She's a good and forthright woman. The drama is killer.

Two sisters.

The pretty pink one and the disabled one.

What do you think their relationship is like?

You're wrong.

Chloe is disabled, yes, but she is a capable older sister. Her father, servants, and her sister all treat her with respect. Even when those who discriminate do not.

Alice is a romantic girl, with no brains in her skull. She's supposed to save her family from debt by wedding a wealthy Count....but she cheats on him. Her lover impregnates her, and they run away together...happily? Yes, Alice was never cut out for life as a noble wife. Her husband treats her well. They're passionately in love. Chloe loves her too much to force her to do anything. Their father feels the same.

The spoiled, beautiful daughter leaves the picture.

What about the debt?

There's only one child left. Chloe. She is respected in the walls of her mansion, but nowhere else.

No sane man would marry a woman with a crippled leg.

(This setting is painfully realistic. A couple hundred years ago disabled people had little to no rights. Chloe is a rare exception as a noble daughter who is loved and protected by her father.)

Chloe has no idea, but she does have an admirer.

His name is Duke Daimien Thisse. He fell in love with her three years ago, but she has no clue. He bullied her. He called her naive. Arrogant. He ripped her cane from her hands to show her how weak she was. She naturally assumed he's just another man who dislikes disabled people.

She met the Duke when he was at war. His men camped in her forest, behind her home. She nursed some of his fghters back to health.

Naive Chloe was unaware. As she treated the men they ridiculed her, and they tossed more inappropriate comments on top. They did not deserve her help, but she gave it.

Duke Thisse stole her cane because he was frustrated. He hated watching her care for the boorish men in his army, who whispered behind her back. So, he insulted her to her face to test her true character.

Chloe was too perfect. He suspected she was acting, as an excuse to get close to him and seduce him. He does know about her monetary situation after all.

She rejects him and proves that kindness isn't a weakness. She didn’t know the men were insulting her, but it doesn’t matter to her. They were protecting her country. Her land. She felt obligated to help, as an upstanding noble lady.

Duke Thisse is smitten.

He does get worse though. This guy is every single red flag. His fascination with Chloe stays a secret. A real one. Nobody knows he loves her. Chloe thinks he's marrying her to weaken his position on purpose, because he wants the Crown Prince to look stronger. She thinks she's a tool and she's half right. Marrying Chloe does give the Duke camouflage. He looks like a loyal dog...but he's been planning this marriage and a rebellion for three years.

Chloe won't be his Duchess.

She will be his Queen.

Daimien is also the most jealous and vindictive man on earth. He does bully and plot against his own wife when she pays attention to other men. He's un-fucking-unbearable. He threatens to kill her and her family more than once. She thinks it's because of his honor or something but no. He just does that when she mentions another man too many times.

He even throws a hissy fit when she tries to visit her own father.

This handsome servant, Gillies, figures out how twisted the Duke is. He's purely in love with his kind lady, and the persistent hero actually succeeds in exposing the rot.

Chloe finds out how deep the corruption goes far too late.

Duke Thisse doesn't tell Chloe anything. This mistress??? Fake. She's a royal spy and he feels nothing for her, but he uses this fake lover to torment Chloe. To test her and embarrass her. To see her pure true self once more. Chloe maintains her dignity, even when she must invite said mistress to a tea party.

Duke Thisse uses the death of this fake mistress to trick Chloe into loving him. He frames Chloe. He makes it look like she murdered the other woman out of jealousy, and then he saves her from life in jail.

That "selfless deed" earns her love.

Chloe earnestly lavishes love on the monster that has been tormenting her for years.

Even the Crown Prince is a pawn.

Duke Thisse needs him to to die at the right time, in the right place.

The mad prince realizes that Daimien married Chloe for love, and he gets more suspicious.

His feelings mess with the plan.

The rebellion will come regardless.

Romance begins to blossom when the Duke actually says I love you. It's not cheesy. It makes perfect sense. Chloe doesn't want money or promises. She wants to know if he saved her from a murder charge out of love.

(If only she knew)

He says yes.

It would have been so romantic if we, the readers, didn't know what was going on in his head.

By the way they don't consumate their marriage until they confirm their love. The Duke gets some points with that. He only wanted to lay with her if she felt the same way. He avoided all intimacy until that day. Now she does reciprocate....but he's been planting those feelings for almost four years.

Their love blossoms into something beautiful.

Chloe is pregnant and they all live happily...

The Crown Prince is a mentally deranged maniac. The people are turning against him.

The Duke wants more than love.

He wants to protect the nation he fought for in war.

He wants power. He wants to be King, and he has chosen a Queen.

Side note he only wants Chloe to have one baby, because he's familiar with the dangers of childbirth. I'll give him points for that one...again. He sucks but he's not the worst husband to have.

They don't live happily ever after.

Duke Thisse has more goals to strive for beyond happiness, and that's awesome. He's not a nice man, but he's obsessive and he's not bland. He's not boring on screen. That's for sure.

Chloe is an extremely cool woman, without superpowers. There is no secret ingredient. She's just a hard worker. One of her legs doesn't freaking work, and she's still more imposing than most.

Lots of people hate this one.

I think they need to read the fine print. Maybe one or two more times. On the surface this is a tale of abuse and manipulation...but remember there's no magic. Chloe never wanted to marry for love. She has no lover waiting for her.

Being the wife of a Duke isn't supposed to be easy. It's extra hard if he's ambitious.

That's conveyed very well.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #Betrayal of Dignity

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lipglossanon · 2 months

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Gloom

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Serial Killer!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, troubled reader, violent/dark thoughts, flirting, Leon abusing his bartender privileges 😆, for once no smut!

not proofread; this has been languishing in my drafts and I’m tired of looking at it—don’t know if I’ll add to it or not

title from Gloom by Djo

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Clawing anger stirs in your chest, pricking you like the briar bushes outside your granny’s house. It feels like you’ve tumbled face first into the thorny tendrils, pointed tips digging into your skin, blood dripping like sweat across your skin. Shaking off the phantom sensations, you peer back out across the dance floor.

You smile, pretending to be happy, mask firmly in place. Good people grin and bear it, don’tcha know? Eyes landing on the table full of people you’d rather never see again, almost without conscious thought, makes your skin itch. The feeling of unfairness fizzes in your blood like carbon bubbles. You hate them. Hate these feelings all stirred up like a kicked hornets nest.

You hope they get hit by a truck, shanked in an alley, acid thrown in their eyes. It’s hateful and spiteful but you can’t stop the thoughts once they start. Maybe they’ll fall down the stairs and break their leg, bleed out a slow death all alone. Or pushed off the roof of a building, not so tall they have a heart attack before splattering across the cement. Maybe they’ll trip holding a pair of scissors, the pointed end puncturing their eye—

“You need another drink?”

The voice pulls you away from staring across the room to the bartender standing behind the counter.

“No,” you shake your head, eyes dropping to your glass, water still near the rim.

“You seem a bit perturbed,” he offers, propping his hip against the drink station, arms crossing and showcasing his thick biceps.

“It’s nothing,” your airy response only makes his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“I’m sure that group over at the table would love to hear how they’re nothing,” he grins when you glare at him.

“What do you care..” your eyes glance at his name tag, “Leon?”

“I don’t,” he shrugs easily, “but you do and I hate to see a pretty lady in distress.”

You snort, eyes rolling, “I’ll bet you say that to anyone with tits.”

His grin widens, “True, but I always mean what I say.”

Someone on the other end flags his attention and Leon leaves you to your intrusive thoughts and untouched water. Your lip curls in a sneer as someone gets up from the table he mentioned and walks over to the bar. They flirt with Leon who you notice gives you a quick side eye before making a round of drinks.

Once he’s finished up, he walks back over to you with a smarmy little swagger.

“Miss me?”

You shake your head, gaze still zeroed in on the bitch taking the handful of drinks he just made back to the table. More people come up to the bar and Leon slips away, busy for several long minutes. While he’s mixing whatever cocktail an older lady and her friend ordered, your eyes widen in surprise to see a few people at that specific table suddenly make their departure towards the restroom.

“It didn’t kick in as fast as I thought,” Leon muses next to you— a little put upon sigh slipping out for good measure, “they’ll definitely be calling it a night once they’re not puking their guts out.”

Delightful vindictiveness makes you smile broadly at him; it must surprise him because he only looks at you stupidly as you thank him.

“Didn’t I tell you I hate seeing a pretty lady in distress,” he recovers quickly enough, a pleased smile making him seem boyish and sweet, “besides they seem like stuck up cunts. And not the fun kind.”

You watch with a sort of childlike awe as he goes about the rest of his shift, chatting up customers and making drinks. The table of cunts, as he so politely put, cleared out once the others returned looking sick.

“I’m off work in ten minutes,” he appears next to you, making you jump.

“And?”

He drums his fingers on the side of your glass, “Might wanna get your last call in before I walk you home for the night.”

He slips away before you can argue and ten minutes later, he’s helping you with your coat and holding open the door. Once you’re a comfortable distance away from the bar, you turn to him.

“What did you use?”

“Ah,” he taps the side of his nose with a grin, “that would be telling.”

Your eyes narrow and he laughs.

“Just a little something I like to keep on me,” he ducks to the side to whisper in your ear, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve used on someone.”

He pulls away, looking pleased as punch, and it makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“Thanks,” you offer, looking back to the sidewalk in front of you, “it was nice.”

“Oh my absolute pleasure,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “do they come in every week?”

“Yes,” you bite your lip in thought, “usually at the same time.”

“Shall I give them something a bit stronger then?” He murmurs quietly, eyes glittering when you pause to look back at him.

“There’s something wrong with me.”

You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it is what it is; he shrugs, total nonchalance, that makes you frown.

“I want them to hurt. I want them to feel awful. I wouldn’t mind if they died.”

His smile’s a sharp brittle knife, “I can help with that last one.”

Your heart flutters again, and you twist to face him fully.

“You mean that?” Your eyes stare into his calm blue gaze, “you don’t even know me.”

“Does it matter?” He grins playfully, “besides you seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate it.”

Those intrusive thoughts come back, flashing the various ways you’ve pictured those same people being hurt. Your hands reach up to curl your fingers in the collar of his jacket.

“Do you want help?”

He laughs delightedly, his own hands gripping your hips before sliding up to pet your ribs. He slides your noses together, before hovering his lips over your mouth.

“How do you want to help me, sweetheart?”

#leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #serial killer!leon kennedy #fem!reader

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flowerandblood · 4 months

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The Fall from the Heavens (13)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, trauma, regret, depression, mention of a suicide attempt ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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Daemon understood better than anyone what it meant to be the second son, the one who would inherit nothing. It seemed to him that, in contrast to Viserys, he was a blazing fire like a true dragon, giving warmth, light and shelter to those close to his heart, burning those whom he saw as his enemies.

Viserys was always blind, soft-spoken, lacking strong character and clear opposition when things got too far out of hand.

This trait of his had been carefully exploited by Otto Hightower over the years, putting himself in the role of his friend and adviser, playing his part with an extraordinary devotion from which he felt like throwing up.

He knew it was pure courtesy, perfectly calculated, taking advantage of the mourning of the entire Red Keep and his inattention after Aemma's tragic death he slipped his brother his daughter under his nose.

Looking at her on their wedding day, standing in a long, ornate gown he thought she looked like a child on whom someone had put layers of cloth and precious stones; overwhelmed by it all she looked down at her feet, around her nails the red wounds he had seen on her hands ever since.

On that one day, knowing what was awaiting her, he truly felt compassion for her.

After that, however, he stopped.

She could have built her independence, committed herself to the needs of the kingdom, she, however, in the company of that cunt, Criston Cole, gave herself over to prayer and mortification, obediently following her father's orders.

As a woman, she was in his eyes pitiful, weepy, whiny, merely pretending to be saintly and virtuous, having in fact nothing to do with these qualities.

His feelings about her and her father moved involuntarily to her children.

He recognised the dragon's blood in them and treated them differently from the Hightowers, yet he was unable or unwilling to bond with them, seeing how they were suckled to their mother's breasts, which did not allow them to think or breathe on their own.

He watched from the sidelines, observing from afar as Rhaenyra and Alicent's children trained together, how a divide formed between them. He knew that once they grew up and understood what was really at stake, they would throw themselves at each other's throats.

He knew perfectly well whose right to the throne he would support.

Aegon was a drunkard and a cunt, Helaena was quiet and withdrawn, Aemond was sullen and vindictive − he thought with amusement that each of them had inherited the worst from his brother and their mother.

However, he couldn't help but show at least a little compassion and understanding for his brother's second son, who had been punished by the gods, left without a dragon of his own.

Some part of him wanted to speak to him, to get to know him, to see through him as a kind of reflection of himself, but on those rare occasions when he was with Leana and his daughters in the Red Keep he never made such a gesture, which he later, though he did not want to admit it to himself, regretted.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.

He could see with what admiration he looked at him, how much he longed to hear at least one word of appreciation from him, any gesture of interest.

He knew that if he could decide who his father-figure would be he would choose not Viserys or Cole but him, and he pretended not to notice that.

Once though, he noticed something that surprised him; strolling through the cloisters of the Red Keep he spotted his nephew and Rhaenyra's only daughter standing side by side in the square, leaning over the table filled with the various weapons. He smirked under his breath as he walked closer, wanting to listen to their conversation.

They were betrothed.

A clumsy attempt by his brother to avoid what he felt in his bones had to happen.

He saw his niece point her finger at one of the weapons lying on the wooden tabletop, a steel black spiked ball hooked on a chain to a special handle.

"What is it? It looks scary." She said with amusement, her voice light and pleasant; he thought with surprise that his nephew's grim and stormy nature did not deter her.

Alicent's son grunted loudly, lifting his chin slightly in a gesture of superiority and intelligence that he hated so much about the Hightowers, clearly proud to be able to speak on a subject in which his knowledge was extensive.

"It's a flail. A very heavy weapon requiring great strength and agility in its use. It literally crushes the opponent." He said, forcing himself into a low, mature, masculine voice, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his hair in a slight disarray from the few duels he had already had.

"That weapon looks like the kind you die from in agony." Mumbled his niece, tentatively touching her fingertip to one of the spikes – her uncle pushed her away immediately, surprised by her gesture, grabbing her hand by the wrist.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? It's sharp after all, you could have hurt yourself." He said angrily, but she only blinked, surprised by his outburst, and smiled indulgently, showing him her finger.

"I know, silly. I wouldn't want something like that to hit me in the face." She sneered, raising her eyebrows in amusement, joy in her gaze and embarrassment at the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

She took a step closer to him, but he stepped back quickly and lowered his gaze, he noticed in disbelief that his pale cheeks had turned scarlet.

"Not here. Later." He muttered letting go of her wrist immediately. He heard her quiet sigh of disappointment as she nodded and walked away without another word.

He watched as, a moment later, his nephew cursed under his breath, pulling off his leather gloves and moved after her, grabbing her at one of the side entrances by her arm. She turned to him with a smile as if she was sure he would follow her, her lips placing a quick, brief kiss on his cheek.

He let her go, embarrassed and blushing, looking sideways, muttered something, and she nodded and disappeared behind the walls. His nephew returned to the square as if nothing had happened, a lazy, barely visible smile on his face; Aegon looked at him from afar with a look full of pity, as soon as his younger brother came closer he said loud and clear:

"What a twat you are."

He snarled under his breath as he heard Criston Cole immediately respond to his remark by saying that it was inappropriate for a prince to use such vocabulary, his younger brother only gave him a grim look indicating that he himself was torn internally, ashamed of his weakness.

He thought then, moving ahead, amused, that his brother had inadvertently contributed to something that was certainly not his original plan.

These kids really wanted it.

He felt shame because, looking at them, he wondered how he really felt about his wife. He recognised that she was his companion and lover, whom he respected and cherished, but she was not his friend, he could not allow her into the depths of his heart.

Only when he saw Rheanyra did he feel something more; he had the feeling that the air around them quivered when they spoke, he sensed that she understood perfectly the source and reason of his impulsive nature.

Despite this, he found his life peaceful and prosperous, and the death of his wife in childbirth was something shocking and painful to him. He covered his grief with laughter, the thought that he had wasted years of her life, a wonderful, beautiful woman who deserved someone to love her with all her being, giving her something more than a substitute of affection.

Then, however, his nephew lost an eye and everything fell apart like a house of cards, showing how weak their family actually was.

The events that followed wove together in his mind, the closeness of Rhaenyra and their later nuptials brought him a sense of relief, as if two parts that belonged together had been joined.

He watched her daughter from afar, the sadness and grief painted on her after all still so young and innocent face made her seem to him pale and lifeless, at once beautiful, cool and inaccessible, walking around Dragonstone like a ghost, not speaking to anyone despite how much his daughters tried to get close to her.

She was warm, helpful and welcoming when anyone approached her, but did not raise any discussions herself, eating and drinking little at suppers, immersed in her thoughts.

He knew that she was with them only in body.

He decided not to make the same mistake as with his nephew and offer her his interest, his support in the ironic and mischievous form peculiar to him, the only way in which he could show his affection to anyone.

What surprised him was how much she clung to him, how often she cried during their walks together; despite her innate vulnerability she had a strength of character that he appreciated – she was inclined to rash actions or anger, but she was also not docile or naive, she tried to find order in the chaos that surrounded her.

Only he and his niece had been invited to Aegon's nuptials to Helaena; Alicent had expressed in her letter her concern that the meeting of their children might affect them badly and reawaken old wounds, which his wife took as a reasonable argument, and indeed, albeit reluctantly, it was only the two of them who travelled to the Red Keep.

The whole ceremony in the Great Sept dragged on endlessly for him; he looked around, bored, unwilling to stare at the horrified, sad faces of his nephew and niece, testament to the fact that neither of them wanted this marriage.

The wedding supper held in the fortress was lavish with dancing and music, lords from all over the kingdom descended and gathered in the throne room at large, long oak tables filled to the brim with food. Sitting down in his seat next to his wife, he glanced sideways and noticed a figure looking at him intensely, the One-Eyed Prince staring at him coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and admiration, finding that he looked like a man, well-built and muscular, tall, his hair much longer, a black eye patch covering the left side of his face.

He grinned with amusement and mockery, wondering to what he owed his attention, and his nephew only hummed under his breath, looking away, apparently discouraged by his reaction.

He wondered, looking at him, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, if he had shown him fatherly concern then, taken him under his wing, separated him from Alicent and Otto, he would be a different man now.

Several toasts were made to the bride and groom, during each of which Aegon drank his cup to the bottom, clearly intent on fulfilling his marital duty completely drunk.

"Stop it. You've had enough." Growled his younger brother, taking his goblet from him with an aggressive flick of his hand, setting it impatiently far from his older brother's reach.

Aegon slapped him angrily on the shoulder, mumbling something under his breath; his younger brother stood up, towering over him, showing him wordlessly that if he touched him again he would regret it.

"Aemond." Said their mother, this green whore, who was looking at them in pain, her hands folded in front of her as if to pray.

His nephew rolled his eyes and left the hall by a side entrance, furious, unwilling and unable to look at it apparently; Aegon with a wide grin reached for his cup again and to his despair took the empty seat next to him that had been occupied earlier by his wife, now conversing with the King.

"Uncle! So many years." He mumbled, tapping him on the back in a friendly, masculine greeting. He rolled his eyes, amused, smelling the stench of alcohol and sweat from him.

"As you can see, everything stays in the family. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. After all, she'll surely cry. Fuck." He muttered, taking a deep, catchy sip from his cup, tilting it so that he drank it all at once.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling discomfort at the thought that he felt compassion for Helaena for what was about to happen to her.

He glanced at her sad, petite figure; she sat gazing off into the distance somewhere, dreamy.

He wondered as he watched her if she realised what awaited her.

"She doesn't seem to fully understand what I will have to do to her. After all, she's my sister. I don't want to hurt her. She's odd and I don't understand her, but I don't want her to fucking cry." He mumbled out covering his face with his hand, his voice breaking with his every word – he drew in air loudly as if he was out of breath, and he looked at him not knowing what to do.

What was he supposed to answer him?

"Be gentle and kind. Make her feel as little pain as possible. You know very well that how it will look lies in your hands. If you want her to suffer as little as possible, stop drinking because it will take you a fucking hour." He growled, taking the cup from his hand just as his younger brother had earlier, and wondered if that was what he meant then, if he knew his condition would only worsen whatever was to await them next.

"You pity yourself and you smell of alcohol and sweat. Go take a bath or do you want to lay on her like that? Give her some dignity for goodness sake." He said coolly, looking ahead indifferently; his nephew swallowed loudly, sitting beside him like a little rebuked child, playing with his fingers.

He wondered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye if his brother had ever spoken to him about it, if he had prepared him and explained to him how he should behave.

"All my life I've envied him. My brother. He had someone of his own who cared about him. I think he really loved her, uncle. Now I barely recognise anyone myself. I'm not sure any of us are the same person anymore. Only Helaena has remained the same − innocent and ignorant. That's because she doesn't step outside her mind. If she did, she would have gone mad like we did."

It turned out that he was partly right.

What he didn't expect was that when they arrived all together as a family after several years in King's Landing to defend Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark these two would be lying in bed with each other on their very first night.

"If you tell me you still want to marry him, I will help you. I'd rather you be his wife than lead you and him into a scandal that could destroy your mother. Your betrothal has never been called off, the king will easily prove that no other plans for you can be in force against his decision. But if you decide not to, I will personally see to it that you never see him again and that no letter of yours leaves Dragonstone. Make a manly, mature decision with all its consequences, and stop wallowing over yourself."

He told her then, wanting her to understand that they could not stand in the middle, that they had to choose, or their decisions would drag them all down.

Watching them in the throne room audience, however, the greedy, desperate gaze of his nephew fixed on her as if he wanted to devour her gave him no illusions.

What this boy was telling himself was one thing, but what he was feeling was another.

It was this thought that made him decide to question Alicent's decision in front of everyone, wanting to hear his brother's opinion on the matter, the only one that really counted. He had expected nothing but objections from both sides, however, against the desperate attempts of their mothers, his nephew and his niece's daughter made a decision that did not surprise him at all.

It was enough for her to get up from her seat and walk out to make him press his lips together in rage and follow her out, exactly as he had done then, in the courtyard, when he had thrown himself after her, and she knew perfectly well that he would do so, knowing his nature.

He wondered if she had kissed him this time too, if the tension between them had eased.

He thought that this marriage might actually calm the emotions a little, especially as his brother was over his deathbed.

This union was forcing both parties to be cautious, which could be mutually beneficial.

"She has decided that she wants to stay in the Red Keep until I return." His wife said to him, putting her black leather gloves on her hands, walking beside him towards the dragon's lair. He stopped, looking at her in disbelief, furious.

This was not the plan.

"What?" He growled, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "You're leaving my daughter in the care of that whore and her father-traitor?"

He saw that she smiled at his words emphasising that in his eyes she was his child, that he had taken responsibility for her and protected her as any true father should.

"She asked me to do this. I imagine they both want to clarify a lot of things with each other. Since the nuptials are to take place as soon as possible there is no need to fret, I will personally take her back in a few days." She replied calmly, and he let out a loud breath, impatiently licking his lips.

It was a bad idea, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't protest and that was his mistake.

The next day he lost two of his daughters.

Rhaenyra, his brother's heir to the throne fell with a groan when envoys reported to her that her father was dead, that her brother had been crowned king, that they had imprisoned their daughter.

She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at her womb; at first he thought it was despair, but then he saw the pool of blood beneath her feet, her terrified gaze, her lips parted in agony.

They both knew it was too soon.

Their daughter already looked like a tiny infant, but sadly her fate was sealed; she wasn't moving or breathing, she was cold, looking more like a doll than a human being.

He felt that he had to leave the fortress; he followed exactly where he always went out with her, with one of his daughters, to the sea itself, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, not knowing what he was supposed to do with the rage and chaos that overtook his mind.

He wanted to mount Caraxes and burn them all.

However, his cousin and daughters had cooled his ardour, recognising that they needed to prepare, gather an army, make a plan of action.

He recognised that it was only female sentiment, a weakness that kept them from making the risky decision that his whole life consisted of.

When his wife finally recovered from her brief mourning, despite his entreaties, she did not listen to him and decided to send her sons as her representatives, wanting to extract the pledge of allegiance from those who had paid her tribute many years ago.

He had thought it nonsensical, however, when Luke returned from Storm's End it turned out that his step son had been a naive idiot.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." He growled, turning away from the table with fury, massaging his face with his palm, not believing he could have done such a thing.

"Daemon." Said Rhaenyra in a voice trembling with despair; she looked at her son, trying to calm herself. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." He muttered, forcing himself into a calm tone of voice.

He turned towards him, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

She had done this for them, so they could attack the Red Keep without fear.

She wanted to make a manly decision, to sacrifice herself, his brave daughter, his little dragon.

"Gods." Said his wife, clutching at her womb, apparently involuntarily recalling the moments when she had carried her under her heart, the maternal tears of pain in her eyes.

"And then?" He finished for her, seeing that she didn't have the strength to get anything else out, Luke swallowed hard, afraid to look at him.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." Said with difficulty, Jace slammed his fist on the table, furious.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He said red with anger and he glanced at him indifferently, sighing heavily.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He asked further, pretending not to have heard his outburst; Jace pressed his lips together, furious. Luke shook his head quickly.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." He muttered, and he sighed heavily, placing both of his hands on the table, leaning over it, and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

He let her see him without any other witnesses and then let him go even though he hated him, even though he could have trapped and humiliated him.

Why?

A memory flashed through his mind, the way his nephew cursed as he fought with himself to finally run after her, her smile full of reassurance as she turned to him knowing he would follow her, his blush of embarrassment and lazy smile as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his cheek, her proof of her devotion and affection that he craved so much.

He had never stopped loving her.

This stone-cold, dangerous man had done something for her, surely after she had tried to take her own life.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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darkestspring · 2 years

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Rhea not telling Daemon he has a daughter and when she dies no one tells Daemon. Years later, Aemond announces his betrothal to the daughter of Rhea Royce, heir to the Vale.

Omg I'm begging you to expand more on this, an entire fic omfg

You had loved your mother, more than anything else. She was your only parents even though you knew your white hair and purple eyes did not come from her. From a young age, you had mastered the bow and arrow, a feat which your mother threw a feast for.

She had died when you were six years old, you had sobbed over her cold body, begging her to come back as your cousin, Ser Gerald Royce, comforted you. They told you it was your father’s doing. Prince Daemon Targaryen, he had hated your mother, your cousin told you.

You hated him, he had taken the only parent you ever had. You told the maesters to not inform him of anything. you had lived without him so far, you would continue to do so.

Not long after your mother’s death, he came to the vale for his inheritance and you hid away, listening to his words with anger in you. Shortly after, he remarried and you found peace.

You went looking for a dragon without anyone knowing. And at the age of seven, you claimed the monstrous Cannibal. He, who refused to bend to the will of other, bonded with you.

You came back to the vale, victorious.

Most of what came after was a blur. Your father’s wife gave birth to two girls and then died and then your cousin’s husband died, and then your father and cousin married. What a charade, you had thought with a raised eyebrow.

You had grown into an accomplished young lady under the vale’s eyes. Under your maester’s, under your cousins, Jeyne Arryn and Gerald Royce. You were the woman your mother had been. Strong and fiery with the cannibal behind you.

It was only a matter of time. You traveled to King’s Landing, taking advantage that your father would be staying in Dragonstone and your uncle was far too ill, to inform him of your existence. It was your advantage.

A girl of ten and four, you strode forward in a black dress, your white hair glinting against the sun.

Your purple eyes connected with a lone purple one and you stared at him for a moment longer before looking forward.

A guard announced your name and titles as you walked forth unflinchingly. You gazed upon the queen and the hand.

“My queen, My lord hand. I show myself in front of you, as you have requested of me.”

It was all memories from there one. Shock when you stated of your claim over cannibal, understanding when you spoke of your father’s unknowing of your existence.

Your fate had been sealed that day, you had been betrrothed to their second son, Aemond Targaryen.

It was an arrangement but love grew from it as you spent time together. You had to return to the Vale after your third year there. I must collect some of my important things, you had stated to your betrothed, you hand holding his.

I will return within two week, my love.

You had been unaware of the audience. You had returned in the house Royce colors and Aemond had told you what was happening.

“There’s an audience going on. My sister’s bastard son’s claim to driftmark is being contested.” He spoke, taking your hand in his after instructing that your things be taken to your room. “Your father is here, my dragon.”

Your eyes lit up with an almost feral joy as you smiled. “We must not disappoint then, my love. Let us cause chaos.”

You stopped before the door as you waited, with Aemond’s hand in yours. He pressed a kiss to your cheek as the doors opened.

“Lady [Y/n] Royce, Daughter of Lady Rhea Royce. Lady of the Vale and Runestone.”

Hearing your title just made you feel so much more vindictive. You walked forward, feeling your father’s gaze on you.

Good, you thought, as you smiled at Aemond. Let the games begin, I am more than ready.

#aemond targaryen x reader #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #this was fun to write aaaaaa

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steveharrington · 7 months

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i see a lot of content online about how middle aged women working in offices are supposedly all mean and vindictive and bully the poor 24 year old minors and like. i’m sure that happens sometimes sure but middle aged women are not your enemies in fact the 30-40 year old ladies in my office are some of the sweetest and kindest people i’ve ever known. they remember what my hobbies are and ask me about them. they show me cat videos they see on facebook because they know i love cats. one of them bought me a halloween handsoap just to be nice. like idk have you ever considered that you’re being standoffish towards them because you just assume that every woman over 25 is a “karen”

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evilvillain123456789 · 1 year

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contemporary equivalent of project paperclip is USAmerican public schools scouring the former eastern bloc to recruit the most vindictively misanthropic lunch ladies and administrative assistants

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sapphicbookclub · 2 months

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Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall

It is the year 1814 and life for a young lady of good breeding has many difficulties. There are balls to attend, fashions to follow, marriages to consider and, of course, the tiny complication of existing in a world swarming with fairy spirits, interfering deities, and actual straight-up sorcerers.

Miss Maelys Mitchelmore finds her entry into high society hindered by an irritating curse. It begins innocuously enough with her dress slowly unmaking itself over the course of an evening at a high-profile ball, a scandal she narrowly manages to escape.

However, as the curse progresses to more fatal proportions, Miss Mitchelmore must seek out aid, even if it means mixing with undesirable company. And there are few less desirable than Lady Georgianna Landrake—a brooding, alluring young woman sardonically nicknamed “the Duke of Annadale”—who may or may not have murdered her own father and brothers to inherit their fortune. If one is to believe the gossip, she might be some kind of malign enchantress. Then again, a malign enchantress might be exactly what Miss Mitchelmore needs.

With the Duke’s help, Miss Mitchelmore delves into a world of angry gods and vindictive magic, keen to unmask the perpetrator of these otherworldly attacks. But Miss Mitchelmore’s reputation is not the only thing at risk in spending time with her new ally. For the rumoured witch has her own secrets that may prove dangerous to Miss Mitchelmore’s heart—not to mention her life.

Genres: historical, urban fantasy, romance

Order from Blackwell's and get free worldwide shipping!

Listen to the book on audiobooks.com here!

#sapphic books #lgbt books #wlw books #booklr #book recs #historical #paranormal

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year

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Yandere Greek Heroes - Profile

‘‘You are the cause of all this destruction, honey. Watch and smile.‘‘ - Greek Heroes.

❝⚡️— lady l: yes, I know, it took me a long time to do this and I sincerely apologize. I started doing this a while ago but I always had to take breaks on account of other matters and this yandere profile was forgotten. I hope you forgive me! I made the main Greek heroes and some extras, but not all of them are here because it would be too big. I will do the female part and, if anyone wants, I can do part two of the male Greek heroes with other characters. Good reading and sorry for any mistakes!!

❝tw: yandere themes in general, dub-con, possessive and obsessive behavior, manipulations, mentions of mental breakdown. If you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes, I recommend not reading.

❝⚡️word count: +2,5k

OBSESSIVE

Hercules, popularly known by his roman name but his greek name is Heracles and in some versions Alcides, is a bastard son of the god Zeus and the mortal Alcmene. He is best known for having completed the Twelve Labors.

"Me and you, my love, let's just hold each other today. No going out."

Hercules is an obsessive and possessive bastard, he is very paranoid and jealous. You are not allowed to leave his side.

You can say anything about Hercules, as long as it doesn't involve you. Beat him, call him names, curse him, but never, under any circumstances, drag your name into the fray.

There's nothing he wouldn't put up with for you. This man would do anything for his darling, he is not afraid or hesitant to kill, torture, disembowel anyone who gets in his way. On your way.

He became paranoid after killing his entire family in an act of insanity, so he's terrified of accidentally ending up killing you. If he thought about hurting you, Hercules would back away. Just the thought of you dying drives him crazy.

He's overprotective too, not letting you go out without him and when you do he scans every passer-by thoroughly, just to make sure they don't hurt you. You can never be too cautious.

Hercules is a suffocating and obsessive yandere, he will never be far from you. The demigod will always be watching you like a shadow.

There's no way you can run away from it. Just allow yourself to be loved obsessively by Hercules.

"I... I just love you so much, Y/N. I love you in ways you cannot imagine."

Kinks: breeding kink, dom.

Nicknames: my love, my Queen/King.

POSSESSIVE

Achilles is the son of the nereid Thetis and King Peleus. He is considered one of the greatest warriors of Ancient Greece and is known to have participated in the Trojan War.

"...why are you fighting with me, baby? That bastard deserved to be spanked! He dared to flirt with you and I'm the only one allowed to do that."

Achilles is one of the most possessive greek heroes of all. His jealousy, however, is often out of control and he almost ends up beating people he considers a threat to your love to death.

To say that Achilles is possessive is a huge understatement, because he is so much more than that. He cries out for your attention 24 hours a day, every day of the year. For this hero, having your attention and devotion directed only to him never hurts. He is revered by all as one of the greatest warriors of all time, he is used to attention and expects nothing less from you.

Achilles is a warrior, body and soul, so there isn't much kindness in him, but the hero goes out of his way to be good to you. He tries hard not to hurt or scare you, his big, callused hands will be nothing more than feathery, touching you gently as if he's too scared of losing you and hurting you.

He is known to be vindictive and that is true, Achilles will take revenge on anyone and anything if anything happened to you, what he did to Hector is nowhere near what he will do to anyone who dares to lift a finger at you.

Achilles however does have some qualities and one of them is his devotion towards you, he is completely loyal to you and only you, he will follow you wherever you go. He wants to take care of you and he will. This man will do anything for you, just ask.

''It's so sweet that you think you can run away from me, my princess/prince. I think that's adorable, you know? That hope you carry, but don't worry, I don't mean to ruin it. Not yet, at least.''

Kinks: dom, rough sex and role play (don't ask me why)

Nicknames: sweetie, Princess/Prince.

DELIRIOUS

Theseus was a great Athenian hero, best known for defeating the Minotaur. He was the son of Aegeus, king of Athens and Aethra.

"I love you so much, my love, and I can't wait for the day when I can hold you in my arms every day. You can't wait either, can you? But I promise the wait will be worth it."

Theseus is one of the greatest greek heroes of all time, his strength and history are well known. He is a delusional yandere, daydreaming about his darling every minute of his day.

You are on the hero's mind day and night, all the time, he couldn't stop thinking about you. He just wasn't able to do it, so he didn't try to fight it, but chose to feed his own obsession.

Theseus met you after it was he who saved you from being sacrificed to the Minotaur and from that day forward he found himself thinking of you constantly. Many times these thoughts wandered, questioning whether you were fine, even how it would be if you and he had children. All thoughts were focused on him and you, the two of you together like a true couple.

Theseus would spoil and love you, like you should be loved and spoiled, like the fucking goddess/god he's sure you are.

Theseus isn't usually very possessive, he knows how perfect he is, he's full of himself and he laughs at the thought of you flirting with another man or woman. He was enough for you and you for him, there's no way you can think of another man with him by your side. But that doesn't mean he doesn't get jealous, because he does, but not so easily and he's downright cocky when he's jealous, pettyly criticizing his rival.

He is loving and caring when he gets what he wants and he always gets what he wants. He really is in love with you, in a yandere and obsessive way, but he is and Theseus will do anything to see you smile.

Just be careful with your choices, because he won't let you go as his obsession and desire for you grows more and more.

''I love your smile, my baby, your perfect face becomes even more beautiful when you're smiling. Please keep smiling at me always.''

Kinks: dom, adoration (he adoring you).

Nicknames: Baby, Goddess/God.

CONTROLLER

Bellerophon was a Greek hero most worshiped in the cities of Lydia and Corinth. He was best known for riding Pegasus. Son of Poseidon and was adopted by Glaucus, king of Ephyra.

''I'm perfect and so are you. We're both made for each other, can't you see that? There is no one better than me for you and no one more perfect than you for me. We will stick together.''

He is best known for his arrogance, after comparing himself to the gods themselves and deciding to go live on Mount Olympus, which was the cause of his death. He is a controlling and obsessive yandere, going so far as to lock up his darling if he can do it.

Bellerophon is the very definition of arrogant and greedy, these are characteristics that describe them very well. He is greedy for his sweetheart and glory, he wants to be the most worshiped and he demands this worship from his sweetheart and he will get irritated if he doesn't get it.

He's not the possessive type and it's rare for him to get jealous. aiming that he knows he is the one for his darling and there is nothing to be afraid of. They were his as much as he is theirs. It is so and it will always be so.

Bellerophon is an extremely controlling yandere, if he could, he would even control your breathing. He wants to know everything about his darling, they shameful stories to they darkest secrets and desires, everything. He doesn't want you to hide anything from him and will not tolerate secrets as you are his and as such you must be transparent to her with your desires and thoughts.

Needless to say, he is suffocating because only the gods themselves know how much this man is always glued to your side. He is always with you, breathing down your neck and watching your every move like an eagle.

There's no escaping him, not when Bellerophon is always glued to your hip.

''You are mine, your every thought belongs to me, everything about you is mine. And I don't share.''

Kinks: rough sex and suffocating his darling.

Nicknames: Love, Darling.

DEVOTEE

Orpheus was a great musician and poet of Ancient Greece. He is best known for going to the Underworld to seek his beloved and failing in the process. He is the son of Calliope, a Greek muse, and the god Apollo.

"Not even the muses could inspire me to sing a song about you. There aren't enough words to sing about my love for you."

If there's one thing we can say about Orpheus it's how passionate and devoted he is to his beloved, his love for you has never wavered through all the years and never will. He loves you completely, soul, body and heart, he gives himself to you with his whole being.

Orpheus loves too much and that is his greatest downfall. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, for the person he's obsessively in love with, and that could be dangerous.

He won't rest until he makes you happy, he loves to sing songs and read poems to you and they are all about how he feels about you.

Orpheus is a simple man, he just wants to live his life with you forever if he can. There aren't many mysteries to his obsession with you, just that he's willing to do anything for you and your love. He's not in favor of murder, but for you, he'd kill anyone.

"I love you more than I can put in poems and songs. Please never leave me, I couldn't imagine my life without you by my side."

Kinks: breeding kink (he would love to have kids with his darling).

Nicknames: Muse (ironic, I know), Princess/Prince, love.

OBSESSIVE

Adonis was considered one of the most handsome men in Greek Mythology. Son of the incestuous relationship of Cinyras and Myrrha, according to Ovid, but in Hesiod's version he is the son of Phoenix and Alphesiboea. He was the mortal lover of Aphrodite and, in some versions, of Persephone as well.

"I will never let you go even if I wanted to. We belong together forever."

Adonis is completely obsessed with you, he knows everything about you and he lives fantasizing about his life with his darling. You are everything to him, this man can no longer live without you. He just can't and doesn't want to.

His biggest dream is to marry his sweetheart and if he gets the chance he will. Adonis adores you deeply and no one knows why. Maybe it's because you're the one who isn't focused on his looks anymore or just because he fell in love with you at first sight, according to him.

He's very possessive of you and doesn't even try to hide it, it's not like he wants to either. You are his and everyone should know that, including you. If the love bites and suck marks on your body don't speak for themselves, Adonis will do so.

Because he is very obsessive, Adonis will never give up on you, not even in death. You belong together and that's forever and ever.

Don't worry though, he is very loving and clingy to you and will always be there for you. Whether for better or for worse, Adonis will never leave you alone.

"My love for you is greater than my beauty."

Kinks: adoration, daddykink/mommykink (don't ask me).

Nicknames: Love, Baby.

DELIRIOUS

Perseus is one of the most famous greek heroes. He is best known for having beheaded Medusa. Son of Zeus and the mortal princess Danae.

"I could never hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Perseus is the very definition of a delusional yandere, he dreams of his darling 24 hours a day, awake or asleep, you are always in the demigod's thoughts. And he doesn't even try to hide that he's thinking about you.

And why should he? He is very obsessive and insistent in his obsession with you, he doesn't intend to ever let you go. Perseus can't live without you anymore, not without his reason to live. Don't you understand that? You are everything to him, everything.

Perseus cannot live without you. He knows it, you know it, everyone knows it. If something were to happen to you he would go into a deep state of despair and rage.

You can't disappear... Unless you want a lot of people to suffer with your choices, because Perseus won't stop until he has you all to himself. He won't stop until he has all his fantasies fulfilled. And he will cut down anyone who dares to get in his way.

You are the reason for his entire existence and Perseus will never leave you. He will never stop dreaming and raving about you. Never.

Stay with him. Perseus will make sure you never lack for anything. He is so unconscious in his obsession with you that there is nothing he doesn't want more than your happiness. Beside him, of course.

"Our love is strong enough for your petty form of denial. You know you don't really mean it, my princess/prince. You love me and I love you. Always."

Kinks: worship kink, slight degradation and humiliation.

Nicknames: Princess/Prince, love.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Jason is a greek hero son of Aeson. He is best known for being on the ship of the Argonauts and having married Medea.

"The world is a very dangerous place, my love. I cannot and will not allow anything to hurt you. I promise you."

Jason has seen a lot of bad things and bad people, so he developed a very strong paranoia about your safety. He acts incandescently around his obsession. He is always very alert and constantly scanning the environment around you closely.

He just doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. Is this so wrong? Is it so wrong that he doesn't want anyone to look at you? Touch you? No, it's not. Jason knows it's not wrong, he's just doing all this because he loves you so, so much.

And it is his duty, as your only protector, to protect and love you with all his might. And he will do his duties, his duties with all the pleasure in the world. Jason would do anything for you.

He would die for you, he would kill for you. He exists for you, he longs for you. He wants you. All of you.

"You are very important to me. I will protect you with everything I have."

Kinks: degradation and slight breeding kink.

Nicknames: Love, Darling, Baby.

STALKER

Patroclus was the son of Menoetius. Best known for having acted in the Trojan War, where he was killed by Hector.

"I will follow you to Hades to never be separated from you."

Patroclus is a great stalker, he will literally follow you to Hades itself without any kind of hesitation. He also knows everything about you, absolutely everything. Your secrets will become his secrets. Your desires will become his desires.

Everything that belongs to him will belong to you. You and him. The two of you and it will always be like this.

He is a big soft yandere for you, but only for you. This man would never, under any circumstances, hurt you. He could never and never wants to hurt you, he cares for you more than anything, he loves you more than anything, how could he even dare to think about hurting you?

You are everything to him, absolutely everything. All that is his is also yours, all that you want will be yours. He's willing to do anything for you, no matter what the consequences, because at the end of the day, you're the only thing that really matters.

It's you who really has all the power over him, you're the only person Patroclus wants and is willing to commit atrocities to keep you by his side. Only you, you hold all the power and control and he's happy about that.

He loves you and that's what he tells himself when he goes to sleep, that everything he did is in the name of your love, nothing will have been in vain for you.

Patroclus would never hurt you, but be very careful with him, because he can misinterpret your words and this can lead to irreparable actions. It will all depend on you, in the end, and he will always be there for you.

‘‘Everything I've done... Everything I do is for you, my love, and it will always be for you.’‘

Kinks: worship, pet names and breeding kink.

Nicknames: Love, Honey, Sweet.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Hector was one of the main trojan warriors during the Trojan War. He was a prince of Troy, one of the children of King Priam and Queen Hecuba.

''I can't let you out, I can't and I won't risk your safety. It's all for your own good.''

Hector is an extremely overprotective yandere of his darling, he gets paranoid just seeing a scratch on your skin, breaking a nail or just sneezing. He goes crazy with worry when he sees something that shouldn't be there, that he knows shouldn't be there.

He will overreact if you get hurt, even if it's harmless. You are everything to him and he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you, ever. He will take care of you, he will always protect you.

Always.

You'll basically have a bodyguard, so Hector is always at your side, watching your surroundings carefully. Danger is always lurking and he will be damned if he lets any enemy try to harm him.

Anyone who tries to harm you will be dead immediately, but not before suffering a painful and well-deserved torture. No one can think of hurting you, let alone actually doing it. Hector will make sure anyone who threatens you is dealt with hard and fast, he will always have be your protector.

That man would die if anything happened to you, just the thought of it makes him sick with worry. You are everything to him and Hector will make sure you are loved and protected. He will do everything for you.

''Please let me take care of you. It's all I ask, all I need for peace is to have you safe..."

Kinks: breeding kink.

Nicknames: Y/A (your nickname), Love.

MANIPULATOR

Cadmus was a legendary phoenician founder of Boeotinan Thebes. During his time, he was one of Greece's greatest heroes and monster slayers. He was a phoenician prince, son of King Agenor and Queen Telephassa of Tyre.

''You are so blessed to have me, to have my love. Feel honored.''

Cadmus is a great manipulator, he knows very well how to use his... gifts to manipulate you, to control you. And that makes him happy, because you are his, wich means, you are his to manipulate.

He cares about you a lot, he loves you and that's why he wants to have complete control of you so he can keep you with him. Cadmus will never admit it but he's scared to death that you'll abandon him, that you'll leave him and if that happened he'd break, you're everything to this man and he won't let you leave his arms.

Everything he does is for you and will always be for you. For your sake. He has no qualms when it comes to you and will act violently if someone tries to steal you from him.

Cadmus loves you and that alone is enough for him. He doesn't quite understand his feelings but this desire, this obsession he has for you robs him of any good judgment he may have. Everything is you. From the moment he saw you, it's you and it will always be you.

He doesn't like to hurt and would rather make you suffer mentally than physically because it's safer to see you break down and have a mental breakdown than having you bleed out. Besides, he doesn't want to ruin your beautiful skin with scars.

Cadmus can be very dangerous and unstable when it comes to you, so be careful around him. His manipulations are dangerous but can keep you safe from his wrath.

''I'm doing all this because I love you and you know it.''

Kinks: degradation, dom.

Nicknames: Sweetie, Beautiful.

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 6 months

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I think this is probably the last one for tonight. Or...this morning. It's five A.M. and it would likely be logical for me to go sleep now.

Soooo I got two Fluffy Alphabet requests for Sassy McSwordsman back to back with quite a few intersecting letters, so I just combined them both into one post.

This post, even.

Anyway...Mihawk.

A is for Affirmation (How affirming are they of you and their love for you?)

“Yes, I called you 'darling.' What of it? Shall I call you pest instead?”

Has developed a tendency to address you by pet names without being sarcastic about it, and doesn’t even really seem to notice he’s doing it unless you point it out—in which case he’ll fix you with a wry look and probably an equally wry comment.

The L word really doesn’t come out of Mihawk’s mouth very often. It’s not something he’s ever said very much to anyone, he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. If you say it then he’ll respond accordingly, but otherwise he don’t say it much.

Actions speak far louder than words in his case. He has made it clear that he absolutely will not tolerate anyone or anything threatening or insulting you, that he places your safety and contentment on a pedestal and will do whatever he has to in order to ensure you have both.

When he does say it, you know he means it. He makes sure to look into your eyes, to say it with absolute conviction.

Always says it before you part ways, regardless of how long, or before you fall asleep. Given the dangerous and violent nature of his life in general, he knows full well that any time you part could be the last time. He wants to make sure that if that should come to pass, that “I love you” should be the final words exchanged between you.

C is for Courtship (How would they court you?)

“I wouldn’t venture to waste my time speaking with anyone but the most stunning woman here, my lady.”

Courtship is a game of cat and mouse to Mihawk—once he knows you’re interested, he thoroughly enjoys teasing you with his own intentions, and he’s both patient and confident enough to keep the game going until you’re ready to lose your everloving mind.

He’s fairly subtle about it, but not so subtle as to leave you wondering about whether he’s interested. He’ll make it clear enough that he wants you to himself, but he wants to make sure to leave you wanting, to build the anticipation to a breaking point.

Intense eye contact when you’re speaking, peppered with quick glances up and down your body.

Keeping his voice low and intimate when he speaks to you, maybe as an excuse to lean in a little closer…or a lot closer.

His hand curling beneath your chin to draw you in, close enough to almost meet your lips before drawing back and assuming a more formal tone again—eyes glued to yours the entire time, drawing a great deal of entertainment from your reaction.

Greeting you or parting ways with you by bending down slightly to lift your hand and brush his lips to it.

F is for Family/Family (What happens when they’re around other people you care about?)

“Yes, darling, I’ll behave—so long as they do.”

He’s willing to grin and bear family affairs and friends for your sake, though he very much prefers it being just the two of you.

Perfectly capable of being polite and cordial, though there’s going to be the occasional dry comment here or there simply because sass is his default setting.

But if it’s uncomfortable for you to be around anyone, or if you have any family members or fair-weather friends that happen to be vindictive and/or judgmental, then it might be best to leave him out of it—he absolutely will not put up with anyone insulting you.

You’re his treasure, after all—and he’s one of the strongest men in the world, which makes you, as far as he’s concerned, among the most valuable treasures in the world. No one gets away with doing or saying anything to demean you in front of him.

He has more than enough self-control to not get violent for your sake, but he doesn’t need Yoru to tear someone a new asshole if they do or say anything that he deems offensive. He’s just as quick with words as he is with a blade, and the offending party is going to come out of the exchange with a mortally wounded sense of pride.

I is for I Love You (Who says it first, how long does it take, how does it happen?)

“What do you mean, ‘do I mean it?’ Why would I have said it if I didn’t?”

Him. Absolutely him.

Solitary as he is, it’s a bit awkward for him to say in the first place. He wants to be sure you know, but he doesn’t want to make a huge deal of it. It’s just a simple truth that has to be stated at some point, and he has to be sure he’s the one who says it first.

It might take a while. He won’t say it until he’s absolutely sure of it, but his inclination to be in total control of any and every situation he finds himself in means he’s going to take that initiative himself.

If he so much as senses you intend to say it first, he’s going to cut you off every single time.

It’s also going to come completely out of the blue. Not in the middle of some extravagant gesture, but just in passing; perhaps before you go to bed one night, perhaps as you happen to be leaving the room. He intends to catch you off guard with it, to see if you simply return the sentiment single thought, before it fully registers in your mind what you’ve just said—what he has just said.

The more taken aback you are by the realization, the more amused he’ll be; he was halfway aiming to shock you, and he finds it quite endearing.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?)

“…And to whom, little one, do those lips belong?”

Firm and unyielding, deep and intense, grasping you by your arms or your wrists to limit your own movement and claim full control. He wants to steal your breath away every time your lips touch, and damned if he isn’t an expert at it.

He loves to press his lips just below the corner of your jaw to feel your pulse quicken while his hands drift over you.

He’s going to leave bruises, marks across your neck and shoulders that claim you as his, so that no one might dare question who you belong to.

Mihawk would never admit to having any weakness, but if he had to admit to just one, it would be when you brush your lips just next to his ear in between intimate murmurs and whispers—it drives him absolutely feral for you.

N is for Needs (What do they need in a healthy relationship?)

“Come now, dear—do you think I would be here with you if I didn’t honestly want to be?”

Not an awful lot, honestly. As high maintenance as he comes across (and he his high maintenance in nearly every other aspect of his life), he really doesn’t require much from a romantic relationship. Just the basics, really: trust, honesty, and loyalty. The three go hand-in-hand, and he would never have even entertained the idea of a relationship with you if he didn’t trust you, so he isn’t terribly concerned.

His confidence borders on arrogance at the best of times, so reassurance isn’t any issue. He can’t see any reason that you would lie about your feelings, nor does he have any reason to lie about his own. He’s brutally honest to a fault, so there really isn’t any reason for you to mistrust him, either.

While he would prefer for his lover to be just as low-maintenance, he won’t fault you if you aren’t. He has no issue offering you reassurance if you require it—though he may taunt you a bit about needing it in the first place.

Quality time would likely be his primary love language; he can stand some time apart, but he very much prefers having you near. Knowing you’re safe in his arms gives him peace of mind.

O is for Others (How do they react when you’re around other people?)

“Of course I trust you, my little bird—it’s everyone else that presents an issue.”

It strongly depends on the people in question. If he knows that you’re in a social situation you find uncomfortable, he won’t leave your side for any reason, and will use his presence alone to intimidate the opposing party until they leave you be.

If you’re among friends, he’ll take on more of a silent observer role. He’s more than capable of being amicable if directly addressed, but otherwise he’s likely to remain off to the side, quietly watching and listening, taking it as an opportunity to learn more about you.

In a crowd of strangers, particularly if he notices any other men eyeing you, he’ll keep an arm curled protectively around your waist. He isn’t much for public displays of affection, but he wants it to be known that you’re his, and that anyone who thinks they can change that will have to answer to him.

He does his best not to come off as imposing or controlling toward you—but while he trusts you implicitly, he doesn’t extend that courtesy to many other people.

#mihawk #opla #one piece #mihawk opla #mihawk one piece #opla headcanon #one piece headcanon #headcanon #mihawk headcanon #mihawk x reader #fluff

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