Summary: soft girl of the party has a soft heart. The heart who gains all the hearts of the party no matter what she doesn’t mean to do.
Info: this is implied as a fluttershy!reader cause look at the pic I chose as a header?? Anyways will is platonic of cuz he’s gay tf?? Lumax x reader and then mileven x reader. Just greedy yall, and also Dustin is more of a brother figure that now has a little sister figure.
Genre: fluff
Wordcount: 1,190
The softest girl to ever be in Hawkins.
Y/n L/N, friends to Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, and Jane Hopper.
She’s homeschooled due to her anxiety peaking every second someone stares at her. Feeling the stares of people, feeling like they’re just gonna laugh at her makes her sick to her stomach.
She used to eat alone in Mr. Clark’s classroom, not handling school life very well. Dustin was always there for her, like a brother, as he tried to also eat lunch with her. He even suggested eating in the AV club room.
She enjoyed his comfort a lot, and Dustin enjoyed making her comfortable.
Will and Y/n always had drawing contests because Dustin said she could beat Will at anything he could draw. Which prompted the two quiet kids to immediately click due to their interest in drawings be art.
Lucas was always there to back her up, if someone was talking over her, he would shut everything down to make sure people heard her.
Even Mike did it mostly, he’d always look at y/n to make sure she was comfortable. If she’s too silent and is looking down at her fingers. Chewing on her nails, picking at the flesh of her fingers.
He’d put his hand on her shoulder or just put his hand on hers.
Having eleven in the party’s life brought more things to the table.
After Will went missing, y/n felt sick, sick physically at the thought her beloved friend was dead.
She missed all the action being homeschooled and grieving the potential loss of a friend. But she didn’t know that Mike was practically ranting about her to a girl named eleven.
Eleven saw a picture of Y/n, immediately stalking the poor soft girl in the void. She saw y/n writing, wearing a soft yellow cardigan and a pink and white dress.
Y/n didn’t know how eleven was just staring at the pretty girl.
“Pretty.” Eleven repeated out loud, eleven got out of the void. Knowing who y/n now is. She understands how Mike can just bring her up every 3 minutes.
Time passed, Will was actually alive and well, bringing y/n to a soft relief. Hugging him at the hospital, the party felt restored.
Meeting Max, was kinda weird to say. Y/n was taking a fresh breath of air after being home all evening. While she walked on the sidewalk, wearing her favorite palette clothing of pink, yellow, and white, a girl came rushing in with her skateboard towards her.
Not that she meant it on purpose, it’s just y/n didn’t see her clearly.
She ran y/n over with her skateboard, making her fall on her back, and Max fell on her side.
“SHIT!” Max yells, getting up to even grab her skateboard. Y/n got up to also get her skateboard, trying to ignore the stinging feeling in her hands and butt.
“Are you okay?” Y/n’s soft voice did her magic. Ring through someone’s head. Max felt her hands touch hers, but they left as she got electrocuted. Making the redhead pull her hand back.
“Yeah.. I’m okay. But I should be asking you that.” Max quickly said, ignoring the feeling she felt. She grabbed y/n’s hand, seeing the small bruises on the skin.
“I’m fine,” Y/n spoke, looking at Max. She realized the girl hadn’t practically seen before. “Are you new here?” She asked.
Max nodded as she started to grab her skateboard and pull y/n towards the other way. “I’m Max, what’s your name?” Max says, finding this an opportunity to just know more about this girl who has gotten her attention. And maybe even heart oddly.
“I’m y/n!” Y/n said excitedly, happy to make a friend.
And it went from there as soon as the party had fully known one thing as time grew. The party made a devoted rule towards the girl, and that was never to yell or speak loudly towards her at all.
Everyone took it seriously.
A little too seriously, eleven was by y/n who was shopping. During the summer was fun as y/n softly smiled towards the teenage girl.
“I think this cardigan would look good on me.” She says, Eleven smiled back. Loving the soft smile she and Mike adored.
“Yes. It’s perfect, for you.” She says in the same tone you spoke.
Nodding, you go to the cashier to get this. The cashier seemed to be cranky, not liking how the poor girl was trying to get her wallet from her purse.
“Can you hurry up?? This isn’t the retirement home sweetie.” The man said, gruffly and roughly which made y/n flinch a bit while she felt her heart spike. Not cause of the man’s voice. No. Cause was she really holding up the line?
“Sorry sir I’m just—”
“I don’t need a backstory, hurry up.”
Eleven’s brows narrowed, not liking how the man was talking to the girl. After getting the money on the counter and quickly leaving.
Eleven stayed a bit behind, squeezing her hand, making most of the clothing rackets fall to the ground. The man was in shock and stumbled at what happened.
“What the?!”
Eleven wiped her nose with her hand. Walking quietly by the girl’s side.
Summer came quicker than blinking.
Will and y/n would have a drawing contest at his house, he’d even let y/n play a bit of D&D mostly. She understood most of it, it was nice to know what the boys liked.
“That’s beautiful y/n!” Will complimented the girl who smiled widely. “But check mine out!” He exclaimed, showing a picture of him and y/n dancing around with music notes in medieval times.
Y/n put her work down to do some happy claps. “Omg!! That’s amazing, you should be an all-time artist.”
Her soft voice mixed with praise and excitement, and even encouragement. It brought will even more up to being open to her.
Sadly she couldn’t hang out with Dustin since he was mostly hanging out with Steve instead. But that was fine since she got to hang out with the other party members during the summer.
Although it felt like she was third wheeling.
During the summer, Mike and eleven would persuade y/n to hang out with them a lot at Hopper’s cabin. Due to of course eleven can’t be seen out in public.
Not without her pet bunny, named Angel of course. Eleven seemed to freeze seeing the bunny, y/n forgot about the lab while she goes to hide Angel away. But eleven wanted to show that she can get over her trauma.
For their girl, as Mike has said once to eleven. Practically claiming the girl for him and eleven.
And eleven liked that.
Meanwhile, Lucas and Max would plan movie dates at y/n’s house. Making sure they had her perfectly between them both.
Lucas felt like a king, having two beautiful girls with him was heaven. Max and Lucas squeezed both of y/n’s hands
Not even bothering to tell how flushed the girl was.
“What is happening…” y/n thought to herself.
She didn’t know that she was the butterfly surrounded by flowers needing her attention.
₊˚ෆ Simon who told himself he was too old to date now (late 30's is not old), but somehow found you, his beautiful girl.
₊˚ෆ Simon who knew he had to have you the moment he saw your soft expression. His guarded-up heart melted those icy walls with one bat of your eyes.
₊˚ෆ The same Simon who held a gun for weeks on end, started to house your hand in his instead.
₊˚ෆ He was obsessed with the smell of your hair. Not in a creepy, stalker way, but in the way he'd always make sure to restock your favorite shampoos and conditioners.
₊˚ෆ Rough and scar ridden Simon, who loved to spoil his sweet girl. Whether it be with new clothes, or good morning kisses, he was spoiling you rotten.
₊˚ෆ Not one for PDA, but he can never say no to a quick hug and kiss from you.
₊˚ෆ Simon who has made himself softer over the years of being with you. His once defined body was now gentler. Thanks to your amazing cooking/baking, he can never say no to an extra plate.
₊˚ෆ The same Simon who would tell dad jokes on missions, would tell the jokes to you in the quiet mornings. He would say the silliest of things just to see you laugh.
₊˚ෆ Simon Riley who never gets nervous on the field, but the second he thinks about starting a life with you, to truly settle down--he's nothing but nervous. Nervous he won't be a good husband to you, or even a good father if you ever decided to have kids. But he knows he can do it if it's with you.
Imagine this: Eminem gets into a rap feud with your rapper boyfriend, and amidst all the drama, you end up cheating on your boyfriend with Eminem. Then, when Eminem releases a new track, he takes a shot at your boyfriend by hinting at your hookup, adding fuel to the fire with a line about sleeping with you.
Eminem x reader
Caution: sexual content ♡
it’s the night of the MTV Music Awards, and you’ve been given the honor of calling out the winner and presenting the award. Your boyfriend, a rising star in the rap game, is nominated in the same category as his rival—none other than Eminem. For weeks, the two have been trading shots, dropping diss tracks, and stirring up a fierce rap feud.
The tension is palpable as the nominees flash on the screen, and the crowd buzzes with anticipation. You can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you from his seat, his expression radiating certainty. He’s convinced tonight will end in his victory, a public validation of his skills and his place in the industry
But you know the stakes: if Eminem wins, it would be a crushing defeat for your boyfriend—a public blow that could turn the tide in their feud and become the talk of the music world. Yet, there’s a strange electricity in the air as you take the stage, gripping the award envelope, your heart pounding. Whether it’s a win or loss, this moment is about to make headlines.
"Eminem!" you announce, your voice echoing through the venue as the crowd erupts in wild cheers, celebrating his victory.
Eminem strides onto the stage, his expression a mix of pride and that unmistakable cockiness he’s known for. As he reaches you, he takes the award with one hand and, to your surprise, pulls you into a tight hug with the other. The embrace lingers just a moment too long, his hand slipping lower with each second—a subtle but unmistakable taunt meant to rile up your already furious boyfriend, who’s watching from his seat with narrowed eyes.
The audience catches onto the tension, gasping and laughing as Eminem’s playful smirk widens. He whispers a low “Thank you” in your ear, glancing briefly over at your boyfriend, whose jaw is clenched, his confidence shattered by the public loss and the blatant show of disrespect. Eminem lets you go, stepping up to the mic, but you can still feel the charged energy radiating from your boyfriend’s glare. The feud has just reached a new level, and you know tonight will be one for the headlines.
At the after-party, your boyfriend was sulking, stewing over his loss. His confidence from earlier in the night had dissolved into a grumpy silence, and he barely spoke to you, responding with short, cold remarks every time you tried to break the ice. His attention was laser-focused on Eminem, who was mingling across the room, clearly enjoying his win. Your boyfriend’s glare never wavered; he was practically daring Eminem to look his way.
Finally, you had enough. The atmosphere was suffocating, and you weren’t going to spend the night with someone who refused to move past the loss. Frustrated, you excused yourself from the table, deciding you needed a drink just to shake off the tension.
As you walked toward the bar, you sensed someone fall in step beside you. Glancing over, you saw it was Eminem, giving you that familiar smirk. “Rough night?” he asked, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine curiosity. There was something in his eyes that made it clear he’d noticed the icy atmosphere between you and your boyfriend. For the first time all evening, you found yourself relaxing, even smiling, as you felt the weight of the night start to lift.
You leaned against the bar, letting out a sigh, and turned to Eminem with a half-smile. “Yeah, you could say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s taking this loss… well, let’s just say he’s not handling it well.”
Eminem chuckled, ordering a drink as he leaned beside you. “Can’t say I blame him,” he shrugged, “but hey, it’s all part of the game, right?” His voice was light, but there was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he understood the cost of ego in the industry.
You nodded, grateful for the change in atmosphere. “True. But it doesn’t mean I have to be dragged down by it,” you said, looking across the room to see your boyfriend still seated, jaw clenched, watching the two of you like a hawk. The icy, simmering tension in his stare made your stomach tighten, but you ignored it.
Eminem followed your gaze, then raised an eyebrow. “Well, if he’s going to sit there and sulk, that’s on him. You don’t deserve the silent treatment.”
There was something disarming about Eminem’s attitude. He wasn’t pushing anything, just being unexpectedly down-to-earth and understanding. As the drinks arrived, he clinked his glass lightly against yours. “Here’s to enjoying the night,” he said, eyes flickering with a mischievous glint.
You took a sip, the warmth of the drink helping you shake off the tension. “Thanks,” you murmured, feeling a rush of relief. Eminem leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a private tone. “Honestly, you look like you could use a good distraction.”
Before you could respond, the DJ switched to one of Eminem’s tracks, and the crowd went wild. He shot you a grin. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending his hand.
You hesitated, knowing full well how your boyfriend would take it. But in that moment, the thought of breaking free from his cold demeanor and just having fun felt too tempting to resist. You placed your hand in Eminem’s, feeling a spark shoot up your arm.
As you danced with the Detroit rapper, your boyfriend’s absence was the only confirmation you needed—he had already stormed off, leaving you alone with Eminem. The music thumped around you, and you felt the heat of the moment take over, your frustrations melting into the rhythm of the song and the intensity of Eminem’s gaze.
Eminem leaned in, his face coming closer, and before you realized it, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard yet feeling almost inevitable. The kiss was electric, a mix of passion and defiance, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The tension of the night, the rivalry, your boyfriend’s coldness—it all vanished in that single connection.
As he pulled back, a hint of a smirk played on his lips. “Want to get out of here?” he murmured, his voice low, barely audible over the music but clear enough to send a thrill through you.
You met his gaze, feeling a rush of excitement and a sense of freedom you hadn’t felt all night. “Yes,” you replied, nodding without hesitation. With a final glance back at the room you were leaving behind, you let him take your hand, leading you out of the club and into the night, where the evening’s tension was about to unfold into something entirely new.
The ride to the hotel was a blur of city lights and pulsing beats from the car stereo. Eminem’s hand rested comfortably on your thigh, and every time you looked at him, that smirk grew a little wider. You knew you were crossing a line, but in that moment, you didn’t care about the consequences—you just wanted to live in the present, to feel alive.
Once inside the plush hotel suite, the reality of what was happening hit you like a sledgehammer. The room was dimly lit, with candles flickering around the edges, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and slightly overwhelming. The smell of his cologne filled the air. Eminem led you to the bed, his hand never leaving your waist, and the weight of his touch sent shivers down your spine.
Your heart pounded in your chest as he kissed you again, his hands exploring the curves of your body with a confidence that was both thrilling and terrifying. The world outside the hotel room felt a million miles away, and all you could focus on was the heat of his breath, the taste of his lips, and the way your body responded to his every touch.
Eminem's strong arms pulled you closer, his hands deftly unbuttoning your dress, which slid to the floor in a whisper of fabric. You stood before him in nothing but your lingerie, feeling exposed yet empowered by the raw desire in his eyes. His own shirt and jacket followed suit, revealing a sculpted physique that seemed almost too perfect to be real.
The air grew thick with anticipation as he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands moved to unhook your bra. It fell away, leaving your breasts bare to the cool air and the warmth of his palms. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.
He led you to the bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping you as he laid you down. His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands skimming over your skin like a warm summer breeze, igniting a trail of fire wherever they went. You could feel the weight of his body on top of you, and it was a feeling of both safety and exhilaration.
Eminem’s kisses grew more urgent, his tongue dancing with yours as he traced a line of passion down your neck and to your breasts. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through your body, and your breath hitched in your throat. His hands moved with purpose, removing every last piece of clothing that stood between you. The sensation of his bare chest against yours was electric, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room.
He paused, looking down at you with a hunger that was almost feral. Without a word, he slid his hand down the curve of your waist and over the band of your panties, slipping them off with a gentle yet firm motion. Your body reacted instinctively, arching towards him, craving more of his touch. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as he positioned himself above you, his eyes never leaving yours.
Eminem kissed you deeply as he entered you, the sensation of his hardness filling you completely, making you gasp into his mouth. The initial shock of his size quickly gave way to a building pleasure, and you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper. His rhythm was slow and deliberate, his hips rolling into yours with a mastery that left you feeling utterly consumed by him.
You could feel every inch of him as he moved, his muscles flexing with each thrust. The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, punctuated by the occasional groan or whimper escaping from both of you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as if he were conducting a symphony of passion. The kiss grew more intense, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, and you moaned in response, your nails digging into his back.
The bed sheets tangled around your legs as the pace grew faster, more frenzied. The headboard banging against the wall matched the tempo of your hearts beating in sync. You could see the desire in his eyes, the way they darkened with every stroke, and it only spurred you on. Your own eyes closed as the pleasure built, your breaths coming in gasps, your body tightening like a coil ready to spring.
Eminem's fingers found their way into your hair, gently tugging your head back as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. His other hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheekbone as he whispered dirty sweet nothings into your ear, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the sweat bead and the tension in his muscles as he moved within you. His thrusts grew more powerful, each one hitting that perfect spot, making you quiver with pleasure. The sound of skin on skin, the faint rustle of the bed sheets, and the muffled moans of ecstasy filled the air—a symphony of lust that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the suite.
As the intensity grew, Eminem’s grip on your hips tightened, his breaths turning ragged. You could feel him getting closer to the brink, his movements more urgent, and the desperate need reflected in the taut lines of his face. You met his gaze, the electricity between you crackling like a live wire. You whispered his name, and that was all it took for him to let go, his body tensing as he reached climax, his eyes squeezed shut, and his teeth bared in a silent roar.
The aftermath was a gentle cascade of shared breaths and lingering kisses. He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, your bodies still intertwined. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the candles, casting a warm light over the rumpled sheets and the sweat-drenched skin. You laid there, your heart racing, feeling a sense of disbelief at what had just transpired. It had been explosive, a whirlwind of passion that had taken you completely by surprise.
Eminem looked at you, his eyes searching your face, as if looking for any signs of regret or doubt. You met his gaze and smiled, your cheeks flushed with satisfaction and a hint of mischief. The night had taken an unexpected turn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty. Instead, you felt alive, invigorated by the rush of adrenaline that still coursed through your veins.
He leaned in, kissing you softly, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving into your mouth once more. You tasted a mix of whiskey and victory on his breath, a potent cocktail that only made you want him more. His hand slid down to caress your naked body, his fingertips gliding over your skin like a musician playing a favorite tune. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and you arched into him, eager for the symphony of pleasure to begin again.
After a few weeks of sleeping with Marshall your boyfriend once again dropped another diss track on Marshall, stilled pissed about losing to music MTV awards to him.
A few weeks had passed since things began between you and Marshall, each encounter becoming a carefully hidden secret amidst the chaos of the ongoing feud. Despite the thrill of it all, your boyfriend remained oblivious, though his frustration toward Eminem hadn’t faded. In fact, he seemed more fired up than ever.
Still bitter over the loss at the MTV Music Awards, your boyfriend dropped yet another diss track aimed squarely at Marshall. The lyrics were sharper, more personal, each line dripping with resentment. It was clear that his defeat had stung deeply, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. The diss track hit every outlet, riling up fans and adding fresh fuel to the rivalry. You listened to the track, knowing the words were aimed at Marshall, yet they felt uncomfortably close to home, a reminder of the tangled mess you were in.
Marshall’s reaction, however, was anything but anger. When you mentioned the diss track, he just smirked, as though he found the whole thing amusing.
Two weeks later, Marshall released a new song that sent the internet into an absolute frenzy. The lyrics included lines that would leave no one guessing.The following lines said:
Yo, check it,
You think you flexin’, but you just a clown,
Got your girl in my sheets, ass up, face down,
While you out thrivin’, ballin’ like a thug,
I'm the one givin' her that late-night love.
You a motherfuckin’ joke, man, I’m the real deal,
She whispered my name, now she can’t conceal,
You think you got her locked, but I broke that chain,
She loves my style, man, it drives you insane.
After Eminem released the diss track exposing your affair, it sent shockwaves through the music world. Everyone was talking about it, and the excitement was palpable. The lyrics ignited a frenzy, with fans buzzing about the revelations and the implications of the feud.
A few days after Eminem released the diss track, he showed up at your house, looking more serious than you had ever seen him. The buzz from the song had settled, but the aftermath still hung heavy in the air. As you opened the door, you could see concern etched on his face. “Hey, I just wanted to check in on you,” he said softly, stepping inside.
You led him to the living room, feeling a mix of emotions. “Honestly, it’s been tough,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “My boyfriend has been really distant since all this happened. I’m starting to think that maybe it’s time to end the relationship.”
Marshall’s expression shifted as he processed your words. There was a flicker of something—hope, maybe—in his eyes. “I hate to hear that. You deserve to be with someone who truly cares about you,” he said, stepping closer. The tension in the room thickened, and you could feel the pull between you intensifying.
Suddenly, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you. The moment his lips touched yours, all your doubts and fears seemed to evaporate. It was a kiss filled with passion and urgency, a silent confession that spoke louder than words. When he pulled back, his gaze locked onto yours, filled with sincerity. “I love you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to break up with him for me.”
You hesitated, a whirlwind of emotions churning inside you. Your heart raced, caught between the thrill of his confession and the reality of the situation you were in. It was a leap, one that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a spark of something undeniable.
After a moment of contemplation, you reached for your phone. The decision felt monumental as you typed the message: “It’s over.” With a deep breath, you pressed send and immediately turned off your phone, cutting off any chance of a reply from your boyfriend.
Marshall, sensing the shift, pulled you in for another kiss, more enchanting than the first. This kiss was filled with promise and desire, a powerful affirmation of what you both wanted. In that moment, everything else faded away—the drama, the heartbreak, and the uncertainty. It was just you and him, wrapped in each other’s arms, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of clarity. <3
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 𓄲 when fire turns everything into ashes , even love. or in which ──── rhaenyra realises her feelings for the woman whose loyalty has never faltered with time .
𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 : romance ,
contents , warnings : cheating ( it’s daemon nobody cares about his groomer ass ) suggestive ( making out ) angst reader has long and curly hair female reader with feminine characteristics fluff ⠀wc : 1.6 k
scented notes : happy birthday to my special girl @faiszt whom i love very very much ! i love you with all my heart i hope this fanfiction will make you happy <33
The sea always brought comfort to her agitated mind. Waves crashed on the shore, the same as those invading thoughts. When it happened , she always left her rock on Syrax to find the ocean. It offered a comfort different from flying on her dearest dragon’s back, different from her long-gone mother Aemma , different from the arms of the man she was supposed to love.
Today , she was exhausted. She didn’t want to rejoin Syrax , storming off like a child whose mother had refused to give her something. Anger ravaged her guts like fire consuming a forest. In those moments , she wished to kill him. Daemon was a man who lacked compassion. To be frank , he lacked empathy and understanding when it came to the living world surrounding him. Her mind wondered if he even loved her , late at night as he slept in their shared bed while those doubts tormented her awake.
Leaning forward , her hands flattened on the rock before her. The blue and eternal ocean was extending before her.
If only this war could end , it was what she wished for every day. Results never came out of this prayer , only blood and ashes , and death.
Alone and forsaken , that’s how you found her outside. From where you stood , all you could see was that long braid blown by the wind , dancing like wheat in the wind.
Hesitation stills you from moving farther. You were aware of her desire to remain separated from the rest of the world in those moments. You were a part of it , that world where nothing brought her comfort after all those losses , all those tears shredded , those lives taken and the grief within the chosen one became more important.
It was eating her alive.
“ Rhaenyra.”
Driven by the shock of the unexpected voice , she spun around only to find you standing at her side. Wrapped in a pale blue gown reaching the pavement , intricate golden details all over the expensive material while a silver belt encircled your waist. Looped braids always frame your face , a hairstyle you’ve always cherished , but you have decided to let them down. They cascaded over your back , flowing like a river carving through rock.
You smiled , sadly. Mirroring you , her head tilted on the side.
“ How did you know where to find me ? ”
“ No one saw Syrax leave.” You shortened the distance between the two of you to present her your arm. Her eyes examined your features for a while , contemplating whether she should accept your invitation. Company did not suit her at that exact time , wishing to keep words trapped in her mind for her to get lost within them.
As her hesitation left you hanging , your arm fell along your body before your limbs intertwined together above your stomach.
“ I understand that you don’t wish to be bothered. If you ever need me , I’ll be in my chambers.”
At that , you turned back on your heels. And she watched. She watched you with a clenched jaw and fidgeting fingers.
You were seated in the gardens , cool grass under your naked feet as you read the thick volume placed over your lap. Reading the same paragraph over and over for the past minutes , you came to realize the book wasn’t exactly what you needed now. You had borrowed the novel from the library , looking for something to lose yourself in. Literature had always been your comfort , it didn't need much thinking.
You closed the book and wondered why things couldn't have been easier. The aftermath of the war between Rhaenyra and Alicent created an important insecurity. You knew it would have been that way , after choosing your silver-pale-haired friend over her step-mother. Both were girls who shared the same age , both tied to the late King Viserys I.
As Viserys I's health was falling apart , tension rose between the two of them.
It wasn't difficult for you to choose which side to take. Lifting your hand above your forehead , you glanced up at the sky. The sun shone heavily in the cloudless sky , closing your eyes like a cat accepting a gentle caress behind the ear.
A shadow soon cast over you , casually your eyes flew open. Seeing the delight of the realm standing before was unexpected.
“ May I sit with you for a while ? ”
She looked beautiful as ever with her eyes red and puffy , teeth planted into her lower lip. In those moments , she resembled a child. Hesitant , as if she feared being scolded.
“ You may.”
Her figure immediately filled the empty place next to you. She observed you , like you held all the answers she was looking for. “ Please , forgive me for earlier. I didn’t—”
“ I’m not mad at you.” You cut her , holding her gaze. She had the salt of the sea in her eyes , an aquatic green that brought out the silver in her hair. Every Targaryen shared those features, however none wore those like she did. Your heart thumped painfully in your ribcage , she would never know how much you wanted to tell you find her beautiful in a way a friend shouldn’t.
“ Something happened with Daemon , I was told. ” Rhaenyra shifted uncomfortably beside you. “ You fought.”
She looked away , her tongue swiped across her inferior lip. “ We did. He wanted to go fight.”
“ That’s all he seems to want.”
“ Daemon wanted to fly to Kingslanding and just butcher all of them.” She explained rather calmly, yet you could feel the anger behind her words.
The greens had children amongst them , the children of Aegon II himself. She needed this war to win back her claim to the Iron Throne, although she never wished for children to be butchered. Especially not by the man with whom she had children with. It was cruel , something she wasn’t.
“ Oh , Nyra. Why are you this compassionate ? ”
“ Sometimes I wish I wasn’t this way, Bell .” The nickname made you smile slightly. She never called you by your name , especially after you told her about your love for bellflower. You always wore the flower scented oil. Secretly , the Targaryen woman was very fond of your scent ; sweet and delicate and so feminine.
“ But you can not , not be this way. This is who you are. Wishing things could be different is just false comfort.”
“ Ever the poet , are you ? ”
“ Oh , this one isn’t from me. I borrowed it from a book.” A smile bloomed on her face , bitterness almost forgotten. Your hand soon left her shoulder and you slipped your feet back into your shoes. “ Do you want to walk with me for a while ? “
Eventually , her arm was hooked to yours while you paced together around the garden.
The sun casted its warm light over your figure and the wind blew here and there , fighting against the sun’s cruelty. It was a serene place where plants grew innocently.
You loved to walk around the garden , and admired the many colorful flowers amongst the meadow.
“ Sometimes ,” you started , stopping before a rose bed. They were of a peculiar smoky pink. “ I wish the earth could swallow me whole.”
Rhaenyra looked over , inquiry eyes looking for any sign of foolishness but all she found was your serious expression. “ Why ? ”
“ Because it is easy. “ You sniffed , kneeling down to reach for the thorned beauties. Her gaze never left your features , even when she crouched at your level. “ It is hard sometimes. and-and so many people are counting on you , they are awaiting for a greatness that may never be destined to you. In those times of doubt , thinking about sinking down is an easier escape. Don't you think ? ”
You eye her. The sea of messy curls framing your face made those blown eyes filled with odd bitterness. Her hand was already caressing your cheek , her touch like a feather , blood pumped faster through your organ.
“ I think you shouldn’t have those thoughts. What would I do without you if you disappeared ? ” You heard her say in a small trembling voice.
“ You have many people here to advise you , to-to ”
“ Yet , they aren’t you. They’re not the woman who has always been there for me , who knows me.” She said your name in a disapproving tone. She couldn’t accept that you dared to pronounce those words to her. She felt insulted. “ How can you even say such a thing ? No one will ever replace you. I need you to win this war. “
When she paused , the world around you fell quiet. Her other hand was always cradling your other cheek. Forced to turn entirely in her way , you both feasted on each other’s eyes.
“ I need you.”
Distance dying between each other’s faces , your breath danced over your skin. Closer , her mouth hovered above yours , not kissing you yet. It was wrong , a sin she didn’t bother to name. But she couldn’t resist the urge ; her petals were wed to yours within seconds. Hungry for more , her left hand traveled to the back of your neck. Your limbs clutched on her dress’ material , bringing her even closer.
Reluctantly, she quickly stepped back to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, while yours burned intensely. You wondered if it was because of the stifling heat or this forbidden exchange. It didn't matter anymore because her lips found a new patch of your burning flesh. Her hands also found themselves lower, gripping your waist with a firm hold. The wind caressed the trail of moisture left by her worshipping lips, offering you the coolness you didn’t know you needed.
“ I need you too.” You managed to say with a strained voice. “ Nyra , I can’t lose you either.”
Her aquamarine eyes peered up at you. She caught your lowered brows and those moist eyes of yours.
“ I’ll be fine,” she said before straightening up and planting a kiss on your cheek. Then she moved her lips to your ear and whispered in a warm, reassuring voice, “Everything will be fine for me. You don't have to worry about me.”
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I am so sorry for the literal months long wait, Anon, I had so much going on these last few months. I'll make it longer to compensate.
Sniper NSFW Headcanons:
Sniper has always been a bit of an outcast, even among his fellow group of mercenaries, and in turn this lead to him being relatively socially awkward.
Despite being rather aloof, he does find himself craving some forms of personal relations, whether that be some camaraderie, romance, etc. Even some small talk would soothe him, really.
So when the both of you finally realized you shared some common ground and a mutual trust, he was nearly a different person than when you first met. Much more talkative, much more touchy, though he never lost his distant edge. And due to his line of work, this supposed distance could be rather long, longer than both of you wished for.
When he finally gets back home, you can tell he missed you just as much as you missed him. But not just in the emotional sense. He missed every last bit of you. And Mundy was always one to claim what he believes is rightfully his.
He starts off relatively slow, relishing in the softness of your lips, moving a stray strand of hair, gazing into your eyes, sharing a smile with you.
And before you knew it, you were smitten again. But just as he believes he can claim what is rightfully his, he also believes in ravishing every last inch of his muse, preferring to enjoy himself thoroughly.
Expect bite marks and hickies all over the place. Since he's claiming you, expect them to be in places where all can see. From your head to your toes, you will be marked. His favorite spots to mark you are your neck, arms, shoulders, and collarbone.
He also enjoys leaving hickies on the trace of your happy trail.
Whenever he fingers you, don't expect him to show any form of reluctance. You're his, and he's yours. His fingers will forever curve deeply inside your vaginal canal, swishing around as he watches the wetness drip from your tight, swollen hole.
He also enjoys stretching you out with both of his hands, watching the pink internal flesh pulsate, all while leaking with your cum. Do expect him to stick his tongue in very deeply when ravishing you, and he is no stranger to light biting as well.
He'll bury his face deeply inside of your pussy, enjoying the musky scent you emit, occasionally licking and sucking your thighs, leaving many more hickies in the process.
Do expect him to thrust very deeply inside, he'll definitely leave it in much longer than you'd prefer, but he just loves watching your over stimulated face contort into phases of pleasure. Most notably how you go crossed eyed from him deeply hitting your sweet spot.
If you're alright with it, he'll even piss inside of you. There's just something about the musky stench of sex, mixed in with the tangy scent of piss that drives him wild, and it happens to be coming out of you, no less.
Despite all of this, he is one who enjoys aftercare post climax.
If you're too overwhelmed, he'll place your head onto his chest, gently stroking your hair, and whispering strong reassurance into your ears. That thick, raspy, yet soothing Australian accent is a heart shot that sends chills down your spine.
Soon, the both of you go fast to sleep in the silent camper, moonlight that shines onto the both of, from the hazy blinds that allowed it to shimmer through.
Where are my soft and sweet girls? My gentle girls? My angel girls? My sunlight and moonbeam girls? My velvety voiced girls? My saccharine girls? My honey caramel girls? My sweethearted girls? My girls who’d rather stay away from violence? My fairytale girls. Where are my kind girls who love to help others and speak the language of hope? Who helps animals. Who pours her whole heart and soul into everything? The kind of girl that could bring the devil to his knees.
Hello, first of all I really appreciate your blog. I love to read your story's, they are incredible C:
Secondly, I wanted to take a request for a yandere baki? Like, he falls for a classmate who is really shy and insecure but she secretly trains to become more confident and stronger? Maybe Baki wants to help her (or not depends on how you think yandere baki would be) and also protect her?
Sorry if my request is a little bit confusing ^^" If it's too random for you, you can just write general yandere baki headcanons :") I hope you have a nice day and thank you in advance :D<3
𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝
𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚!𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
Trigger Warnings; Bad writing, she/her pronouns, possessive thoughts, not really yandere, reader is depicted as really socially awkward and clumsy, uhhh Kozue doesn't exist in this universe ig (I'm sorry bbg)
It's no problem, nonny! I love it when ya'll give me random scenarios lol. Though I write really slowly, so sorry that it's been so long... Enjoy and give me any feedback! I'm still trying to tweak Baki's character profile!
“C’mon, do one more. You got this,”
You panted, stretching your muscles to the extent you could, bringing your chin above the bar, trying to focus on the searing stretch in your muscles, and using it to motivate you as you lifted yourself up once more. Your thighs were clenched, trying to fight gravity, and get twenty pull-ups, surprising yourself when your head gets above the bar.
Seventeen… that’s Baki’s age, you think with a small smile gracing your face as you go for another one, only to whine, wincing as your arms refuse to move. Just as you’re about to drop, you feel your classmate, who you’re too nervous to call a friend, hands grab your waist, helping you down from the pull-up bar. His hands cupped your waist, practically carrying your weight in his hands, catching you off-guard.
“I-thank you, Baki,” You mumbled, glancing over your shoulder as he set you on the ground, and smiling. A warm feeling fluttered in your chest, feeling accomplished at how many pull-ups you did. Only just a month ago, you couldn’t even hang from the bar without getting sore, but with Baki’s help, you’ve improved so much! It makes you giddy as you think of your progress, of how far you’ve come, and how much stronger you’ll be in the future. It gives you a surge of confidence whenever you find yourself exerting some of your newfound strength, beginning to love yourself a little more.
“No problemo,” Baki shrugs, trying to remain lax, ignoring the throbbing of his heart. He got to touch you, place his hands on your waist, and carry your weight. God, you’re so pretty, even when you’re all sweaty. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy (he is). Your presence feels like a punch to the gut, giving him a newfound energy, the same feeling he chases when he fights. His heart pumping blood throughout his body, forcing it through his veins as his brain races with thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts. He can almost feel his hands shake, practically begging his conscience for a chance to grab, hold, and smother you with affection, to pepper kisses all over your face, and praise your body in a way you deserve.
He can’t even describe the surge of joy he got when you asked him for help, looking at him… well you didn’t look at him, preferring the ground’s gaze whenever you talk to him, but that didn’t matter too much. Your words were far more important. The moment your soft voice shyly asked for him to train you, to help you out because you wanted to be better, to be more confident.
And while Baki loved you for who you were and the way you were he understood. He understood wanting to be better, to strive for more and more until your nails have gone raw and bloody, unable to claw away. He understands the feeling of not being where you want to be, of not being stronger, or accomplishing more.
Though you both have different reasons for training, he understands the core values of it. You’re training to help build confidence and find value in yourself, while Baki does it because it’s a staple in his life, the only consistent pillar throughout his short years. But you both share the determination and though you likely will never be as strong as him, which is completely okay and likely how he’d prefer it, he admires how you had the confidence to approach him, asking him for help with something so personal.
Of course, he said yes. What kind of man would he be if he denied you help? Especially when you asked so sweetly? He still remembers how his cheeks grew warm and how he could hear his heart thud against his ribs at the idea of watching you work out. And though, Baki will never admit to it… you’re just so pretty, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You’re so soft, so kind, and just so cute. There’s no way he can’t gawk, respectfully, whenever he sees you squat, or how you smile whenever you complete a set, looking at him with amazement. Sometimes you’ll even hug him! And, honestly, he could die a happy man!
He tries his hardest, never wanting to make you uncomfortable, keeping your best interests in mind, and that’s why he absolutely refuses to let you work out in public. Nope, nope, nope, that’s not going to happen. Sure, you two can go on a run together, but he makes sure to give you one of his athletic zip-ups, not wanting guys to gawk at you, knowing that they will.
It doesn’t matter that you’re only sixteen, he knows how men think, how they reduce you to your body. You’re so much more than that, and that’s why his blood boiled when he saw a guy let his eyes trail across your body as you did some push-ups. Yeah, no, you’re never going to a public gym again, that was the first and last time he’d ever let you do that.
And if you were to ask, he’ll just say that you can’t even imagine the amount of sweat and bacteria on those machines. Can’t you imagine how many sweaty, grubby hands have touched those dumbbells? Or how many people have sat on that bench? Yeah, you can’t give him a number, and after that, you refused to touch your face without washing your hands and wiping away any grime from your face with a wet wipe, even upping your skincare a little.
Don’t get it wrong, you’re not a germaphobe or anything, but you had to agree with Baki, though you weren’t going to challenge him either way. You had noticed the gleam in his eyes as he pulled you up and off the floor, stopping you in the middle of your rep. Of course, you pouted a little, seeing as you were about to do ten push-ups! But you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stir any trouble, so you just kept your head down as Baki said you guys were going to end early.
You didn’t want to, but you trusted Baki, and you weren’t going to say no when he looked so sure of himself. You hadn’t noticed the way his eyes seemingly darkened when he walked behind you, noticing how your leggings hugged you too tightly, nor did you seem to care when he handed you a jacket, saying you looked a little cold. If anything, you thought it was extremely sweet, and it made your cheeks grow warm, and your stomach does flips.
“Well, it’s getting pretty late; you want me to take you home?” Baki’s voice draws you out of your little trip down memory lane, causing you to look up from your hands, which you were probably staring at for an embarrassing amount of time. With a small smile, you nod your head, turning to face Baki, and wiping some sweat from your brow.
“Um, sure! That sounds like a plan-” You cut yourself off with an awkward chuckle, internally cursing yourself for being such a dork. I mean, what could Baki, probably the strongest man in the world, be thinking of you? He probably thinks you're super duper weird and that you sweat too much, oh God. What if you smell!
Slowly losing yourself in your thoughts, Baki quirked a brow, noticing that you seemingly were spacing out, so, like any normal person who definitely hasn’t been daydreaming about his moment since he first met you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and tilts his head, “*Hey, are you good? You’re not lightheaded or anything, right? That wouldn’t be too good, yeah?*”
Baki had a small, reassuring smile on his lips, and the small mole on his upper lip stretched slightly, catching your attention. Feeling your cheeks heat up, your brain went into override, becoming overwhelmed with how close Baki was. You could see all the pores in his skin, and you could feel him too. His palm was oddly warm, maybe a little sweaty, but that was probably just you… ew. His hand cupped your shoulder, thumb drumming against your colder skin softly as he awaited your response, but you just looked at him with parted lips, eyes wide, and mind blank.
You definitely looked like an idiot, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, feeling a little awestruck. Let’s just say that conversations have really never been your thing, especially when they’re cute guys without a shirt. Trying your best, you succeeded in keeping your eyes locked on his face, not letting them linger and drift down to his neck, where his SCM muscle flowed down to his clavicle and mended with the infrahyoid muscle group, only for his trapezius muscle to lay over his shoulder blade and peak from his back. His pectoralis majors were bulging against his sternum, making him seem more like a bodybuilder than a normal, teenage boy, not even to mention his serratus anterior, which was clearly defined and wrapped around his sides-
“Geez, man, you’re such a creep, staring at my muscles,” Baki chuckled, hiding how giddy he felt with your eyes on him, him, him. His hand moved from your shoulder to your head, ruffling your hair with a cheeky grin as he tilted his head teasingly, “Is that a little drool I see there?” The hand on your head moved to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip, as if there were really drool (there wasn’t, he just wanted to make you flustered). His calloused fingers teased your cheek, almost covering your whole face, and you thought you might just die.
“Pphha-Oh, my God! I’m so, so sorry, Baki! That was so weird-” You fumbled over yourself, practically jumping away from his hand with a warm face. Your lips were trembling slightly, your nerves dripping through your veins as you cracked your knuckles, unsure of what to do with yourself as you felt your blood turn into molten lava. Standing with your arms straight and hands by your side, you quickly maneuvered to get your stuff, quickly remembering what the conversation was. Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, your legs were unstable as you steadied yourself and glanced around Baki’s home, not wanting to come anywhere near his gaze.
“Well, anyways-I, um… I think I should go, um, home.” I spoke unceremoniously, ending your words with an out-of-place cough, only fueling Baki’s amusement as he looked you up and down. You were just so cute. He could just eat you up. His syrupy brown eyes swirled with amusement, taking in your nervous form. He really is obsessed, isn’t he?
He can’t get enough of your flustered smile, the way your lips quirk and tremble as you let meaningless words slip from your lips. Your eyes always got so scattered, flickering across whatever room, just to avoid his gaze. Although he’d love for you to get more comfortable, to just relax around him, he does enjoy these moments where you slur your speech and wave your hands around; it’s comforting in a sense. Deciding not to push any further, knowing your heart would probably thump out of your chest, he shrugs his shoulders and gives your bicep a small tap, “Sure thing, I’ll let you off this time.”
His voice was soft and playful as to coax you out of being so nervous. You just smile stiffly, feeling your heart thump, thump, thump, going crazy in your ribcage as you try to cool your tense figure, to slow the blood flooding in your ears. Giving him a nervous, wonky smile, you shrug your bag further up your shoulders, needing to do anything to distract you from the situation at hand. Baki was just so cool, and everything about him was amazing, but you were just… you. For God’s sake! Baki is probably the strongest man in the world, for all you know! And he’s training you of all people? He must be an angel or something…
That’s what you think. You don’t know the gleam that flickers through his eyes whenever you turn away, the pure, utterless obsession that flows through his veins. Though Baki wouldn’t consider himself to be a jealous man, by any means, he can’t help but worry about you. You also don’t know the amount of men he’s dealt with through the school year; the amount of people he’s had to… steer away from you, just to keep you safe. But that’s good. You don’t need to know, ever.
And you still don’t know as you walk side-by-side through the residential neighborhood, Baki holding your bag, of course. He always insists that he helps you out, seeing as you must be oh so tired from your workout, so just let him help you out, yeah?
To you, it was a smooth night, although a little awkward and embarrassing, it was nice. There was a soft breeze, so it was pleasing on the back of your neck, and you could feel your hair tussle and flow. Humming under your breath, you glance around the neighborhood you know like the back of your hand, and observe the different houses. Many were more 1970s-stylized architecture, but it was pretty nonetheless. They all had dark, wooden frames and sloped roofs, guarded by flimsy, wooden fences. With your eyes locked onto your surroundings, you lost track of how long you’d been walking until Baki suddenly stopped, nudging you for your attention.
“Oh, thanks for walking me home, Baki…” You chuckle, catching yourself before you could make you look like more of an airhead. Scratching your cheek, you turned your back, standing in front of the gate that led to your small home, where your parents were probably snooping out the window to see what cute boy had brought you home…
“Nah, we’re chillin’. I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know how it is.” He shrugged, giving you a small, endearing smile before shoving his hands into his jean pockets, glancing at the ground before looking back at you. Giggling sheepishly, you messed with the hem of your shirt, before clearing your throat and straightening your posture. The air was oddly relaxing, though still a little stiff.
“Yeah, but you really didn’t need to, especially since you’re carrying my bag, too!” You sighed dramatically, pursing your lips slightly as you tried to make the mood a little lighter, more for yourself than Baki. He chuckled, rolling his eyes a little with some sass, handing you your bag as you motioned for it.
“Geez, what d’ya think of me? I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I let you walk out here by yourself.” Baki flicked your forehead with a quirked brow, continuing, “But really don’t mention it. You’re like my best friend, practically my responsibility.” He added with a nonchalant grin.
Nodding your head with a smile, trying to ignore the growing warmth on the back of your neck. God, talking to Baki was so easy, even if you fumbled your words an embarrassing amount of times, and you couldn’t help but feel your brain speed up, racing a million miles per hour. Subconsciously, your eyes kept lingering, down, down, down toward his lips, watching them move as he spoke. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, there was a tug on your heart, feeling a pull toward Baki, and he felt it, too.
Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Oh, c’mon! Just do it! You hyped yourself up, adjusting your duffle bag on your shoulder as I leaned your weight onto one foot to another, slightly nudging yourself closer to Baki. Your heart was pounding, ringing in your ears as you kept your eyes nervously locked on his face. Baki had continued talking, rambling off about some fight he had recently. Of course, you loved hearing Baki talk, but you couldn’t think straight, hyper-fixating on this inner turmoil that took over your thoughts. Though Baki had noticed your fidgeting and shift in behavior, he brushed it off as you just being antsy to go to sleep. Wait; why are you so close?
And just like that your lips brushed against his cheek, only there for half a second that Baki thought that he had imagined it. A slip of electricity had shot through both of you, a lingering warmth on his cheek as Baki stared at you with wide eyes. You just kissed him! Baki’s brain went into overload, standing there with his lips parted like a fish. Of course, your face had blossomed with an overwhelming amount of warmth, so hot that even Baki could feel it radiate off of you. Without a second thought, you rushed into your home, though not without running into the half-opened gate and tripping up the steps.
Baki hadn’t even noticed your clumsy movements, far too focused on the warmth that swelled under his skin, a feeling he wasn’t used to. The tips of his fingers were pulsing, feeling static as he urged himself to do something, but his mind was caught up on what he felt. Everything was upside down, his world spinning, and the rhythm of his heart kept him in a jumble. It felt like his brain was empty but swirling with more thoughts than it should. Your lips felt oh so soft, and he couldn’t forget; he didn’t want to forget.
“You’re just too much.” He mumbled under his breath, a newfound determination blossomed in his heart, and a lovesick gleam in his brown eyes. You just confirmed everything he’s ever wanted and dreamed of; you were his. You want to be his. That just means that you don’t need them either, all you need is him, and he’s sure you wouldn’t mind just staying at his place, right? You’re practically dating now, and it’s only right that you live together; that’s what couples do, right?
As he walked away, steps a little off-center, a plan formed in his head, obsessive delusions fueling it. With just one, small kiss, you had decided your fate. No longer could you get off as just being his “best friend”, no. You were his lover now, his future wife. Though you didn’t seem to fully grasp that, Baki’s glad to give a helping hand.
