#i apologize to anyone that reads this and finds it doesn't make sense.

[httpswstef]

HEADCANONS & love and deepspace boys♡

warning : f!reader, just pure fluff, anyone can read. ☆

words count : 2652.

characters : rafayel, zayne, xavier, caleb.

stefie : hi! sorry if i have mistakes : ( hope u like it!

rafayel !

the most playful little guy in the world! will literally do anything you want just to see your wonderful smile and hear your beautiful laugh! he is truly willing to go to great lengths, it makes no difference to him what exactly.

he will stare at you all the time, just because he likes it so much and you can't do anything about it, he is fascinated by you and he wants to watch your beauty at any moment. you are the truest angel for him, how should he get away from you? that's right, he doesn't.

he loves to stroke your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and look into your gaze, he tries to find something there but love and care for him.

like a ritual for a happy day - kissing your eyes and pressing his nose against yours and trying to make your breathing the same.

the boy literally wants to become one with you. to become your heart, air and soul (in the best and most adequate sense). and he doesn't want to let you go anywhere else, rafael is afraid that someday you might find someone better, though he guffaws about it, but will you find someone more perfect than him? no.

he's a very gentle kisser! he has such soft lips that you just want to kiss every second, and he can't help himself when he sees you and immediately tries to snuggle up to your sweet lips, makes a very hurt look if you don't kiss him, makes his trademark pouty face and waits for your apology. he's such a meow.

but also, he loves to cuddle! i'm sure that he is very warm and can warm you up at any moment if you ask, and you don't have to ask, he will realize it himself! because he is sticking to you 25/8 to share this warm energy and his love with you, gently stroking you with his palm and leaving air kisses all over your body, you will not be able to resist him 110%.

he likes to just lie next to you and talk about anything or be silent, rafayel doesn't care, the main thing is that you are close and safe next to him.

i think he gets jealous sometimes. you are his treasure and his most important love, he trusts you all his life, but raf can't trust other men when they look at you as their prey. He'd rather spend the night in the police station than let one of those idiots touch you, i mean it.

if you sleep next to him, there's a 100% chance rafael is sleeping on top of you, and you're trying to get out of his grip and he's squeezing harder.

he will never raise his voice at you, and if he does, it will be by accident. he'll be on his knees begging you to forgive him and not leave him. will apologize for another ten years to let you know that he's really sorry and he'll never do it again, because he loves you infinitely more.

you're his biggest muse and his only muse. he'll make an exhibition of paintings with only you in them. you. rafayel wants people to know who helped him achieve such a beautiful inspiration, he tried as hard as he could, he painted his paintings daily and didn't miss a single second, he spent a lot of time but it was worth it, because you were crazy about the paintings! smiled, laughed and cried so hard with love for him, it broke rafayel's heart. this is his number one exhibition and the one where he captured his life, his air and his one and only love.

his love languages are spending time together and physical contact! he wants to hold you close and not let you go, kiss or touch you in every way possible, warm you and love you with his love and he is endlessly happy when you spend time with him like this, play with his hair and draw with him, raf will be over the moon!

will call you baby and his love absolutely always! because it's true. once you get into a relationship, he'll already use nicknames, he doesn't care, you're his favorite and that's it. 💅

zayne !

zayne is the most protective type of guy! he always wants to know that you're okay and you don't have any problems, and if you do, please tell him and he'll drop everything to rush over to you and protect you, help you and make you happy. it might have something to do with his profession, but either way, zayne just loves you beyond belief and wouldn't get over the moment if something happened to you.

already he wants to live together with you and come to your house, hugging you around the waist and kissing your shoulder. he wants to feel your warmth and let go of all the problems, bad moods and anger just by being near you and inhaling your scent.

he doesn't care if you work or not, he will pay for you everywhere and that's the truth! zayne wants to give you everything in this world, to make you happy and look at things while remembering your favorite guy, it will warm zayne's heart more than anything!

the most gentle and careful boy! sweetly holding your waist and stroking you a little while he listens with a smile on his face as you tell him something, he is so in love with you :( this may sound selfish, but zayne doesn't care who you are sitting with, he only wants to listen to you and look at you.

he has the most wonderful kisses. zayne kisses you with all the passion he has set aside for such a wonderful and intimate moment between you, he takes his time with you. gently he settles his hands on your cheeks and brushes his hands against your plump lips, savoring such a wonderful taste of love between you, trying to pull away every now and then so you can breathe a little, but he just can't, he wants to kiss you every second and never let go of those beautiful lips. will probably bite you a little if he's in a playful mood so he can kiss those spots on your lips afterward. 🫢

if we're talking about cuddling, it's one of zayne's favorite things to do. as much as he loves kissing you, feeling your warmth is so much more important to him. he can feel your pulse beating out his name and he smiles like a cat. just feeling you near gives him the best hope in the world and the fact that he's willing to fight every day just to keep you warm.

if you sleep next to him, zayne holds you very gently and sniffles softly in your ears. only with you can he sleep so soundly that he probably won't hear alarm clocks, he'll be late, but he'll kiss you and tell you how glad he is to have you in his life.

he'll text you throughout the day to see how you're feeling and if you want to visit him, and if zayne is more or less free, he'll have lunch with you!

he's not the jealous type. zaynehas confidence in you and in the fact that you'll never hurt him - that's enough. and if anyone starts thinking he has a chance with you, clearly he'll fly off to another galaxy.

he might come in upset from work sometimes and start ignoring you, just because he doesn't want to snap and say rude words in your direction, because he knows you don't deserve that. Kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much you love him - zayne will definitely cry and lay on your chest while you gently stroke his hair. he's such a baby.

his love languages are words and actions! i'm 100% sure of it. zayne shows his love for you through actions and doesn't mind telling the world about his endless love for just you. ( he's already planning to marry you and picking out a ring, hehe.)

will call you angel and baby! the cutest nicknames and only for you. he calls you that everywhere he goes and doesn't care about the stares of the people around him. you have the sweetest love! 🥺

xavier !

the smallest baby of all! literally the embodiment of love, sunshine and all that is purest. xavier has the most tender feelings for you, which he kept especially for you, protecting them from stares and dirty hands, just so you could see what a beautiful love he has for you.

i also think he's one of the most romantic guys. He thinks out every date so that you will definitely like it, makes a plan and then goes to you to ask for your opinion, the only one he will listen to. 🫢

but also, he'll also be happy to just sit at home with you, talking about different topics and cuddling until the wee hours of the morning on the couch while some movie is playing in the background. xavier will look at you with a look full of love, you lit a spark in him and only thanks to you it is always with him.

despite the fact that xavier seems too sweet and kind, he also has his dark side as a hunter, he will not be afraid to stand up for you at any moment, no matter what they do to him - he doesn't care. after all, you trusted him and trusted your heart, now he will always protect you from the evil in this world. you deserve nothing but heaven and all the beautiful things in it.

i would say xavier is the type of guy who loves hugs much more than kisses, just feeling your heartbeat and breathing - makes him happier than ever. him holding you close and stroking you with his palm while his other hand goes through your hair is something much more than just love, it's a special intimacy, keep it.

speaking of kissing though, xavier loves kissing your cheeks and hands! his most favorite places and the ones he once kissed for the first time, they are precious to him and so he dare not leave them without his special love. his lips are VERY soft, even too soft! the ones you want to kiss every second of the day. 😭 before nestling his lips on yours, xavier runs his finger along your cheeks and is sure to whisper sweet words, im sure!

i think he's jealous, sometimes too jealous. he's just afraid you'll leave him or find someone better. ☹️ seriously, the boy is ready to fight for you with anyone, just so you can feel his endless love. but don't worry, he will never blame you or fight with you, xavier is beyond that, he will just get over it and come running to you for a cuddle afterward!

and based on that, xavier is not a fan of fighting, just like the rest of the guys. he is a sweet baby and wants you to have a loving relationship with him and no aggression.

xavier loves to sleep next to you, because it's so peaceful and he knows that you are absolutely fine. covering you with his warm blanket and pulling you even closer to him! trying to put you together like a puzzle and kisses you softly behind your ear and then kisses your neck to let you know that xavier is there for you and always will be.

he will cook for you! even if he doesn't know how to cook, he will learn how to cook so that he can delight you every day with his masterpieces and see your smile after his incredibly tasty dishes.

like i said before, xavier is the most tactile baby of all, so his primary love language is physical contact! he loves snuggling with you, he loves cuddling, he loves stroking you, he loves when you sit on his lap, he loves when you braid his hair, he is just crazy about the way your bodies interact and the warmth you give each other. and another love language is support! you are his best and most loyal friend, he will trust you with all his secrets and more. xavier also wants to be your source of energy for the whole day, support you when you are in a bad mood and want to cry, or when you want to be alone, but he will still check in on you from time to time to make sure you are okay.

calling you all kinds of cute nicknames! he has no favorites, to him you are a baby, toddler, baby girl, little girl, princess, kitten, bear and everything in between. he is too sweet and wants you to know how beautiful you are in his eyes and what a gorgeous girl you are!

caleb !

my baby caleb! the most favorite of all and the one I myself would do anything for and protect him from any evil. 🥺 he has got all types of softie guys in him and is loving, and protective, and sweet, and hot! he is literally everything, i can say you won the lottery if you accepted his love, because caleb will give you the ultimate paradise with soft clouds, heartfelt confessions and with your most favorite fruits! my boy is the most loving and so he will do the best for his angel.

plus, he is the ultimate jokester! when caleb is around you, he always tries to make a joke somehow to make you smile sunny and then tickle you and hear your laughter that will make caleb himself laugh to tears.

caleb just walks up to you and rests his head on top of yours and follows you around like a lost child. 😭 i swear, if you walk downtown together, he'll probably cling to you so he doesn't lose sight of you (he's afraid of losing you.)

he also loves to eat and so he always wants to take you to different places he likes and treat you to something yummy for how well you did! (even if you didn't do anything.)

he's not jealous at all because he's confident in your relationship and won't let anyone ruin it. your harmony and your love is far above anything in his life, he is ready to keep it in his soul forever and even in death he will love you with his tender love. even if caleb notices someone trying to hit on you, he knows that person will get nothing, because you are only loyal to your gorgeous boyfriend and no one else. he will also make sure to stand up for you and tell the person to go elsewhere and leave you alone.

will introduce you to his grandmother without fail! he loves you both dearly and is confident that you will get along and find common ground, making caleb the happiest guy on this planet!

and how he loves to kiss you! very hard, but at the same time too tender! for caleb, all of you, beautiful and wonderful, all the parts of your body that he wants to kiss and give all his love! he presses his palms to your face and gazes into your eyes, mentally asking for your permission and only then does he kiss you, not allowing you to inhale and continuing to kiss you as his hands travel up and down your body. it's like you're the only thing alive to him in this world, and even though you are. 🫢

he has the tightest hugs and that's a fact. a hug that brings you back to the brightest place and protects you from every evil in this world while caleb quietly sings your favorite song to you, bringing tears to your eyes. he loves cuddling on your bed where he immediately and falls asleep on your chest.

he loves sleeping with you and waking up with you, as he feels your breath on his skin and smiles again, kissing your face and thinking he wants to wake up like that for the rest of his life. most likely he will sleep on top of you. 🫠 but no one minds because caleb is very warm and will replace any blanket for you!

never quarrels with you and doesn't care what others say. he listens to you and takes your side and then is completely calm to make his point. caleb cherishes you incredibly much and doesn't want to fight about anything, it's useless and too sad, and our baby boy always wants to make you happy.

so, love languages, what are his? most likely the most standard set of love: words, actions, support, and time together. that's what makes caleb happy and you don't have to pick one thing. he speaks many words of love that are absolutely true. always hugs you and kisses you at every moment to see the dimples on your cheeks. supports you in your toughest moments, tears you up when you're sad. and to top it all off, spends almost all of his time with you and wants to capture all the highlights of your life.

he calls you his baby girl and princess! after all, you deserve it. let's just say he's been calling you nicknames since day one of your relationship, he doesn't care. 😭 caleb loves it when you get embarrassed and try to look away, but he catches your chin with his finger and turns you around for a kiss gently purring "baby girl."

#— [ stefie ] 💘🫧🔮 #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x reader

[plasticferal]

hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?�� he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #sturniolo triplets #damsel in distress

[coralinnii]

Hi! I saw that you were opening your requests for the next day or so to celebrate getting 2.7k followers! First off, I wanna say congratulations, and may you have a good day/night (almost wrote 'not' lol)!

Anyways, I read your rules, and wondered if I could get a fic with Leona, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia being in a relationship with a Venti! Reader? Essentially, Venti is a Genshin Impact character who plays the lyre, controls the wind, and has a playful personality.

‧₊˚✧ As Free as the Wind ‧₊˚✧

↳ Twst guys with a Venti!reader 

feat: Leona ❋ Vil ❋ Malleus ❋ Lilia  genre: humor, mild fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, Venti!reader is of legal age to drink, no spoilers regarding the Genshin Impact storyline, minor spoilers for TWST Book 7

Thank you reading my rules, always appreciate the extra effort people make! I deeply apologize for how late I am with this, but I hope you enjoy the post. Hopefully I captured Venti's personality well enough >_<'

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Ooff, did he first thought you were a pain in his tail. 

Loud, cheeky, no fear of disturbing anyone for entertainment or favors… at least Ruggie has the decency to be useful. 

He scoffed when you smile and act as if he can’t sense a dangerous well of power within you, the playful persona you present may fool a common man but not Leona.  

He’ll play your game though. There’s no benefit to him to pry into your secrets. He finds this side of you, the one that would play a soft ballad for him for some booze money, much easier to deal with. 

This is a strange relationship, but Leona can respect someone strong and most of all, doesn't tell him what to do. You believe in free will and freedom above else, which Leona appreciates. 

“The concept of one king ruling over all... I can’t say I’m too interested in a land like that.” 

Leona laughed at your boldness. With you, there’s no sense about stuffy responsibilities and obligations. 

There are sweet days where you and Leona would spend the day in the greenhouse, Leona sleeping soundly as you play your lyre while humming your new poems, the wind carrying your melodic voice. 

“Huh, do you have a song for me? Hah, what do you want from me this time? Fine, I’ll let you play.”

Vil immediately clocked something powerful about you, your nonchalant persona is good, but you cannot fool a seasoned actor like him. 

No matter, though. Vil has no interest in delving into someone’s past like that. Vil assumes that if you must act so easy-going yet private about yourself, then he won’t pry into such things. One must have reasons, he supposed. 

However, Vil cannot let go of your pension for the “occasional” drink or two. Vil doesn’t care that you are older than your appearance suggest, alcohol impacts your body and health as you age so he rather you limit that little habit of yours. 

“Come now, Vil. Another bottle wouldn’t hurt~” 

“Hmmph, you don’t have to worry much about yourself when you’re drunk but I most certainly do, especially when you come to me reeking of wine.”

But you always managed to quell his anger by singing ballads and poems about your wonderful beloved Vil. That always lifts the Housewarden’s mood and you end up with a mere reprimanding. Hehe.

Vil will not, however, forgive you so easily if you get too mischievous with him. The beautiful man can respect your talent with wind and currents, but he doesn’t appreciate the gust you would conjure up if it messes up Vil’s appearance too much. 

“Don’t even think about running away from me. I know you were behind the sudden rush of wind, my mischievous one. Acting cute or sweet words is not going to work this time.”

However youthful you may appear, Malleus can sense an old soul within you which feels familiar and powerful. 

Malleus is often surprised by you, for your playful and bold nature while handling the wild winds as skillfully as you hold the lyre. You bear similarities to a certain someone that he can’t help but respect you and hold you to a higher regard than any typical being. 

Malleus doesn’t hate that easygoing personality of yours. On the contrary, he enjoys that spontaneous side of yours as you suggest the strangest of ideas to a powerful figure such as him. 

“Let's go jumping in puddles and see who can make the biggest splash!“

You are a sociable being, making friends so easily that it baffles the young fae. A few cute words from you and it was suddenly so easy to lower one’s guard around you. 

However, when you’re alone and don’t realize his presence, Malleus catches that gleam of loneliness in your eyes as you gaze from your tall resting spot. A look that Malleus feels a kinship with you in that regard.

”You would like to take a stroll with me tonight? Oh, a race in the sky, you say? Very well, but don't be conceited enough to believe I’m so easily bested.”

Dear Sevens, why would you ever let these two chaotic gremlins be in the same vicinity? Do you know no mercy for others?  

The two of you would hit it off so well, it’s almost concerning. Lilia finds you a delight to be around, almost a kindred spirit even. 

“So, you also took care of a dragon long ago.” 

“Yeap, but he sorta became a nation-wide threat when I decided to leave and go off on my own.” 

“Ah yes, those things do tend to happen.” 

(if you can’t tell who’s saying what, that really speaks to how similar a coincidence that was)

Jamming sessions ALL. THE. TIME. The campus has not known a single moment of rest as you display your musical talents in the courtyard while Lilia encourages you all the way, occasionally playing along with an instrument of his own.

Lilia is fascinated by your lyrical retellings of your world and would love to visit this kingdom that values freedom among all else, and of this dandelion wine you speak so lovingly about.

As a man with his own… history, Lilia isn’t the type to ask too much about you if he sees you dodging the question. He can recognize that familiar look of longing and loss, so Lilia doesn’t press further and instead indulge with you in one more glass of bittersweet wine. 

“What tales do you have to regale for tonight? I’m always captivated by these grand adventures of yours, it’s almost tempting for this old soul of mine, hehe.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #twst leona #twst leona x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst malleus #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #lilia x reader #2.7k followers event

[theoddest1]

Okay so this new episode that came out (Episode 4) was poorly handled.

TW /// SA

- No warning before the show starts...why? And even if there is no way for Viv to add one, for some stupid ass reason, why didn't she announce to the fandom properly "Hey, this will have very deep topics and imagery that may not be suitable for all audiences."? Why have arguments on threads and fail to do this very easy thing. At least if the episode came out, people would get a heads up, and the word would spread faster PLUS people would see that you at least TRIED

- The episode opens up with a scene of CNC porno played for laughs in an episode that tackles SA. Complete tonal whiplash. Why did it have to open up with Angel showing everyone a porno? It serves no purpose other than to get a cheap laugh (that never came) out of me or anyone else who watches and because of the topic of the episode revolved around it. I'msure that if the episode WASN'T ABOUT SA, that joke would not have been there....but it is. There was legit no good reason to start this fiasco off with such a tone deaf opening.

- Charlie is actually fucking useless and a burden in this episode, serving no other purpose other than being the gateway to further the issues that befall Angel when "trying" to help. This all screams forced. Worse of all, Charlie does nothing to actually HELP Angel out of this, even though he has a clear black eye thanks to it all and literal mirrors breaking as a result of the abuse. We never see an actual development between the two thanks to her foolishness and garbage writing, and it's resolved easily as if this is some early Disney cartoon season that's on a strict deadline. Regardless of whether she apologized or not, she essentially caused the issue and did NOTHING to actually clean her mess. The goddamn B A R T E N D E R had to be used to salvage the pieces. So far, Charlie, as a character, is utterly pathetic and has been a burden to the cast twice so far. Vaggie, who tried to prove herself (moreso Vaggie's fault for going the extra mile for no reason but an obstacle nonetheless), also had an issue that involved Charlie's utter lack of a backbone. Hey, what was it that Charlie said in the pilot that her dad taught her and one of the only thingsshe learned from him? "You don't take shit from other demons"

- Only one scene from the abuse shown was handled well, and it was when Charlie visited, screwed everything up, and Val asked Angel to come to his dressing room. Aside from that, the whole SA imagery is jarring. While this time, the fast pace of it all is not bad, the quick shift into it all with Angel switching from enjoying to hating, to smiling, to frowning, ALONG with the quick pace of it all with the PRIOR KNOWLEDGE SHOWN and the SONG PLAYING, I am getting mixed messages here. Imagery? Shows Angel getting assaulted multiple times with either a forced smile or for some reason ENJOYING sex with Val and the role play situations showcased, is he INTO his abuse? Lyrics? He seems to find arousal in Val controlling him. The song legit reads as follows

"Addicted to this feeling, I can't help but swallow"

This doesn't read like he is "forced" it reads like he is yearning the toxic relationship. Now if this was one of the main issues with the abusive relationship, where it was a codependency built on romanticising the abuser and Angel learning to break free from that horrible view of someone who never loved him and actively harms him, this lyric would make a lot of sense....but that's not what we are shown at all. From the jump, we are shown that Angel HATES being with Val, to the point of him straight up avoiding his texts and voice messages, they actually do an okay job (despite the shoddy voice work) on showcasing how manipulative Val is and his outright explosive temper through this scene in episode 2. We see that Angel does NOT wanna have association with Val, is tired of it all, and even got drunk to down his sorrows. Yet these lyrics present it all as though it's just a very rocky love life like those songs you hear on the radio with the singer lamenting about how awful their relationship was but still miss their toxic boo-boo. It just...doesn't read like an SA song and could mean anything regarding the type of abuse he is facing. It's kinda vague in hindsight. That's MY take on the lyrics, though.

- Husk's song is a trash fire. He sees Angel is down in the dumps and proceeds to talk shit about him pretty much relaying his sorrows, saying it's okay to feed into your vices, and downplaying the actual situation at hand. So let's get this straight.

Angel- A sexual abuse victim forced into sex slavery to appease all sorts of people's sexual desires whether he likes it or not, including pleasuring his pimp who physically abuses him often all cause he sold his soul

Husk- Gambled his life away and lost his title as overlord, serves under Alastor all cause he sold his soul.

How is this even...the same at all? Even if Husk is lacking some context, he SEES that Angel normalized drinking roofied drinks and works for Val SOMEONE HUSK SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AND WHAT HE DOES but nah, screw Angel. Even if he honest to God (irony) wanted to actually help, why tf would Husk think this was sound advice? Why does Husk just SUDDENLY care? No build up, no memorable dynamic, no nothing. Realistically, CHARLIE should be the one singing with Angel or maybe Vaggie because she heard the story from Charlie. Not Husk. He is self aware enough where he knows this "advice" wouldn't work but nah. Nothing about the song makes sense. Telling someone going through it that "you're a loser" pretty much a no one, an insignificant individual, when VAL has made it clear that Angel would be nothing without him...yeah no the only reason why this whole song "worked" was cause the writers wanted it to, so Angel is happy with being a loser for being a victim of SA and selling his soul to someone who abuses him in various ways consistently.

This episode is terrible

Jarring for any newcomers

Who have no idea who these characters are

#vivziepop critical #hazbin critical #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel husk #vivziepop criticism

[monimccoythings]

Random headcanons of Alastor and his child!reader

This will mix headcanons from both the living and the afterliving times.

Tw: Controlling behavior, implied cannibalism, references to murder.

This is not proof read so I apologize for any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Your home is always filled with music. Be it the radio, a record player or him singing. There's always someone playing a tune. Even now at the hotel you can always find him in one of the common rooms humming a song or with his cathedral radio on.

Loves dancing with you, you'll be helping him cook and next thing you know he is swirling you around the room, music mixing with your combined laughter.

From a very young age, he will teach you to love the radio. He is immensely proud of his job (the legal one) and wants to share it with you.

Likes to treat your wounds and illness the traditional way, just like he used to when you were alive. You got a scratch? He is cleaning it for you and bandaging it up. You are down with something? He'll wrap you in blankets with a hot water bottle and feed you old family remedies and warm soup. If the wound or illness is way too severe to his liking, he will immediately make it go away with a snap of his fingers, otherwise he just likes to act like your caregiver and mother hen you.

Really loves to pull the 'single hardworking dad' act that makes the mothers and female teachers at your school swoon. He is not really interested in pursuing anything further with them, but boy, does he enjoy the attention.

He likes to check on you while you are sleeping. Sometimes he just stays there, quietly watching you sleep, his ever present smile growing bigger as a sense of pride fills his chest.

Lots of dad jokes, I think he's the only one who could pull it off and have everyone laugh. It goes with his radio host charisma and personality.

He does your hair. This man has singlehandledly researched and become well versed in the art of braiding hair. Braids, pigtails, or just brush it, you call it, you got it.

Alastor loves control and having power over people, he is the kind of dad that will subtly talk you out of doing something he doesn't approve of, just using his inmense charms and smooth talking skills to convince you into thinking this was your decision after doing some critical thinking. "Cher, I don't think you should do X, how about you do Y instead?" "I'm sure your friend is too busy to hang out today, why don't we go to the ice cream shop?" He won't ever put you down or make you feel bad about anything, but if you are deviating for the path that he has already set for you (the safe path) he will immediately persuade you to go back to the right way, his way. In Hell that aspect of him has become a million times worse, since he has already lost you once and has become someone with many dangerous enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use you to get back at him. His overprotectiveness and controlling behavior skyrocket when he becomes a demon, which eventually will come back to bite him in the ass.

Doesn't like having anyone question about your biological parents. He is your parent. You don't need anybody else.

Alastor is not fond of physical affection, unless he is the one initiating it. But, since he has had you since you were a baby, he has mostly grown used to your touch. He has become proficient enough in detecting your moods that he knows exactly when you are going to need a hug, a kiss or some other kind of physical comfort, so he can get ahead and start the contact first. He admits that one of his favorite ways nowadays to show affection to you is ruffling your fluffy hair, lightly tickling your ears, his eyes fill with joy when your ears get all twitchy.

Your room back at the hotel is a carbon copy of the one you had back when you were alive, but bigger, and with a private old timey bathroom. Alastor likes to come in whenever he pleases, he is the unliving embodiment of "I'm respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your parent by coming in anyway". He even said so once. Word by word.

You can't stand Mimzy. Sorry, it's a fact, she always gets your name wrong and only comes by if she needs something from your dad. She seems to not be very fond of you either, can't understand why in Hell Alastor would waste his time so willingly just to take care of a snooty brat that ain't even his. But your father seems to like her enough, so you swallow up your critics.

When he was alive, and came back from a 'hunt', he always brought a little memorabilia for you, maybe some old watch, a fancy toy or trinket the victim had on them at that moment. Whatever little thing that wasn't too incriminating and pretty enough to be worthy of you. Now that you know the truth, you can't stop wondering with dread if every little thing he gifts you belonged once to a poor tormented soul that crossed in his path.

Might had fed you human remians in his stews. He utterly denies it, claiming that he would never do that to your delicate stomach. But the suspicious way his eyes quickly dart around the room, makes you think otherwise. It was the Great Depression after all, food was scarce. You'd rather not dwell too much on it or you will never eat anything ever again.

He is a monster, and it pained you to have been so blind all these years, but even after discovering his true nature, the only thing you could say about his parenting before that terrible night of the discovery, was that he was an excellent dad, a tad bit overbearing and overprotective, but a great parent nonetheless.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #tw: controlling behavior #tw: cannibalism #tw: murder

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru

[mydearestdaryl]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl realizes he is in love with you (fluff mostly). Warnings: TWD violence, blood & gore, character deaths, explicit language. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader. Setting: Prison. A/N: Not thoroughly proofread, and English is not my first language, so please point out any mistakes if you find any! Love you, thank you for reading.

You were pretty. So pretty to his eyes and to the eyes of anyone else with an ounce of common sense and the ability to see, he was sure.

He believed you were everything he was not. At first, he envied it a little, but now he admires it.

You were spring and sunshine. The flowers when they're in full bloom. You were a breath of fresh air. You were art. You were a masterpiece made by an artist who was in love. You were a poem written as the vows of a groom deeply enamored. You were a perfect first kiss. You were love.

Not only was your face pretty but your heart and mind were too. You were smart and compassionate and kind. A real-life angel, as many would say. Those wings that decorated his vest would suit you a lot more than him.

He had never felt this way before for anyone, but he figured most people probably felt like this for you as well, because who wouldn't. He firmly believed it was a natural reaction to your pretty and kind self. Human nature.

He could stare at you for hours. Listen to you for hours. And if only he could touch you… no, what was he thinking?

Now Daryl watched as you folded the laundry, chatting with Maggie, who you were sharing this chore with. He was supposed to be killing the walkers at the fence with Carol, who was looking at him with a knowing smirk while she actually did the task, which he hadn't noticed from the trance he was currently in.

He only snapped out of it when he heard Carol giggle next to him.

"Wha'?" he squinted, returning to the task as if nothing happened.

She full-on chuckled at his blindness, poking one last walker through the fence before they walked back to the cell block. "You're so in love," she teased him, shaking her head before grabbing her rag from her pocket to dry the sweat on her forehead.

His frown turned into a scowl, but behind it she found genuine confusion. He spared a quick glance in your direction, watching as you tried to apologize between bright laughter while Maggie scolded you; the folded laundry on the floor now. It made the corners of his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to appear, but he managed to avoid it.

His eyes returned to Carol's, who had witnessed the scene and looked at him again like she knew. He scoffed, a hand flying up shortly in a dismissive gesture. "Yer crazy," he huffed, making her laugh as she followed him.

The sun was setting, and everybody now sat on the table or steps of the kitchen while enjoying a hearty stew made by Beth and Hershel. Rick ate while holding Judith as you played with her, and Daryl found himself staring again. He just couldn't stop.

As if sensing his eyes, yours made contact with him, and he froze, almost choking on the piece of carrot he was swallowing, making him cough. You made him feel so dumb.

Next thing he knew Carol was handing him a glass of water. "Can't have you die choking on veggies in a world full of walkers," she joked as she sat next to him. "Especially not before tomorrow, right?" the woman added, wiggling her brows teasingly.

His eyebrows met. "Tomorrow?" he asked breathlessly after drinking the whole glass of water at once, drying his mouth with the back of his hand. She nodded. Oh! "Ah, yeah, right, tomorrow," he said casually, as if it wasn't a big deal. But truly, he was nervous as hell.

Tomorrow you'd be going with Daryl to hunt for the first time in months and for whatever reason it made him feel floaty and tense at the same time.

"(Y/NNNN), I can't find the last word, and neither can Glenn," Carl complained, plopping down next to you with the crossbow book you gifted him in his hands, "I swear it doesn't exist," the pre-teen said, looking genuinely exasperated, making you laugh. Oh, that laugh. So airy and clear. It made your pretty eyes shine. He liked it when they shined, but not because of tears.

You were pretty when crying too, but only when the crying was because you were happy. He hated when you cried out of pain or sadness; it made his heart all sad and heavy too.

A loud clear of throat snapped him out of his trance again. Annoyed to stop looking at you, he looked up, and he found Hershel. The same smile as Carol was wide on his face. "Sorry to interrupt," he said.

For how long did he stare? Because Carol was now picking up the dirty dishes with Rick's help. "These got mixed with my clothes," the vet explained, handing the hunter a couple of folded button-ups. Daryl nodded gratefully and was about to get up and leave when Hershel sat next to him on the steps, a hand on the hunter's shoulder.

"You know..." the older man started, his gaze on you as you laughed with Carl and Glenn, "this world offers few but precious joys these days. When we find someone who makes life a little brighter, who eases our burden even a small bit, that's a gift we'd be fools not to embrace."

Daryl glanced up to look at Hershel, his eyes pleading for answers underneath uncertainty. Hershel continued, "Love gives us purpose to keep fighting. It soothes our souls when times are darkest. Don't be afraid to open your heart, son. Life is too short and brutal not to seize happiness where you find it."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Daryl nodded, his eyes on you until you waved at Carol, Hershel, and him, wishing everybody goodnight, Carl did the same when you silently reprimanded him for not doing so.

"I love 'er?" Daryl asked, but it sounded more like a confession. Hershel laughed before he slowly got up from his seat.

"That's a question only you have the answer to, son. Goodnight," with a pat on Daryl's shoulder, the man made his way to his cell.

That night Daryl stayed up for hours deciphering his own feelings. It scared him to be in love with you because any outcome could be negative. You either felt the same and it would make him feel worse if something ever happened to you; he'd have more to lose. Or, you didn't feel the same and he'd be rejected, which would make him feel like shit.

But, like Hershel said, happiness would be worth a shot, especially in this world, where it was rare to come by. So with a new determination, he allowed sleep to take him, not noticing the smile on his face as he fell asleep.

The next morning he woke up before the sun, as usual. Throwing on yesterday's jeans after figuring they were clean enough, and a clean button-up with cut-off sleeves, he headed to the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to find you there already.

You were making coffee and smiled when you saw him approaching. Butterflies.

"Hi, Dar," your soft voice greeted him as you handed him a cup of coffee. The coffee was a little old, but it felt like a luxury nowadays. He nodded in response and as a thank you for the coffee. "Oh, look, I washed this one yesterday!" you mentioned, fixing the collar of his shirt quickly.

"'S getting dirty again, sorry 'bout that," he added, finishing his drink and placing it on the counter, attempting to avoid eye contact. He heard you saying something like 'It's okay' while getting your bow and arrows. Once both were ready, you headed out, saying goodbye to Glenn and Maggie who were on watch.

The walk to the woods was silent, but not uncomfortable, he noticed you were still a little sleepy, but he knew once you were awake enough, getting you to quiet down would be the issue. Not that he minded to hear you talk, but it wasn't ideal for hunting.

As you crept through the woods, Daryl seemed lost in thought. When he gestured ahead to a deer trail, you noticed his hands were uncharacteristically unsteady. "Ya wanna try leadin'?" he asked, surprising you. You started forward carefully and were doing pretty good. His "good," and hums of agreement conforming it.

Suddenly Daryl's hand closed around your wrist, stopping you.

"Wait. I...there's somthin' I gotta say," For what felt like the first time today, he looked into your eyes, his icy blue eyes looking particularly warm. "Been thinkin'. Thinking 'bout how...when we're together, the bad shit disappears, even just for a while."

Your heart swelled at this rare show of vulnerability. Still he struggled to voice deeper feelings. Your hand found his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Daryl's throat bobbed in a swallow. "What I'm tryin' to say is...you're important to me. More than most. An' I was wonderin'... I... If," he sighed, why was this so fucking difficult?

Looking away, he chewed on his bottom lip, but you stopped him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your chest where he could feel your heart. "I'm nervous too," your voice was quiet, but it grounded him, "'cause I feel the same way, Daryl."

His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, "ya do?" you nodded and hummed.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, but I... I don't know, I get a little shy around you," you shrugged, taking a deep breath.

His eyes widened subtly, looking like you just told him something absolutely insane. It made you giggle. "Why?"

"Because you're handsome and strong and smart and perfect and I really like you!" your hands gently cupped his cheeks, tilting your head to the side a little, adoring eyes tracing his features. "I love you."

That was the confirmation he needed to lean forward, trapping your lips with his in a slow kiss, almost hesitant. Your hand found the back of his head, pulling him closer. His lips molded perfectly against yours, and his strong hands felt perfect as they found your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your clothed skin.

It felt like fireworks inside you.

He pulled you even closer, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth which you gladly allowed. The taste of him almost made you melt. You wished you could tattoo the sensation of his kiss into your brain and remember it forever.

Only because of the lack of air did you pull away, breathing heavily and with dilated pupils. "I love ya too, sunshine," he confessed, smiling in a way you hadn't ever seen before. So perfect.

Taglist: @ledgeria16

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon headcanons #twd fanfiction #twd

[tojisun]

hey hey hey. don't mind me, i'm just a friendly little nit who's come to bring you my brainrot of the day.

i don't know how often you write him, but - just hear me out - gaz with a mommy kink. i feel like he's the type to have lost a lot of his non-military contact with women, including maybe his own family, so he's really just desperate for feminine approval. but the poor baby is too afraid to tell anyone about it because he doesn't want his partner to think he's weird or something like that. :(

so when he comes home from an op, off his rocker from desperation, he accidentally lets it slip while he's practically fucking them like a dog in heat. what he doesn't expect is that they don't mind, and it just melts his brain to nothing.

friendly neighborhood nit, over and out.

I TRIPPED AND FELL AND PASSED OUT READING THIS OHHHH MY GOD!! my friendly neighbourhood nit i hope u know im kissing u on the mouth rn. THANK U FOR THIS BECAUSE- BECAUSE-

i was- i was trying to find this lil slip of a thing i wrote of gaz with a sugar 'mommy' and how it just makes sense... not necessarily an older partner but a mature partner yk? a partner who pampers him and spoils him; who treats him like the king he is, and he is left trembling, aching, his desire bloating-

gnawing on a rock rn !!!

god.

thinking about the way gaz is fucking you so desperately, humping his cock along your walls, muffling his moans on the crook of your neck because his little secret—the shame that he's always carried—is dripping from the column of his teeth, poisonous as it slithers on the tip of his tongue, and kyle wants to–

he wants to–

"fuck, kyle," you whimper, your moan drawing his name out in that delicious way that makes him buckle. he knows tears must be pooling into the corners of your eyes, surely staining the silk pillow sheets, and the image that forms in his mind makes him groan, deep rumbles of his pleasure reverberating from where his chest is pressed on your back.

kyle has you on your knees, gentle and tender, but the slide of his cock in your cunt had him snapping—his restraints are thinning, the fog in his mind gaining strength.

it feels like torture. like pinched pleasure.

it feels like kyle is being edged even when he knows he isn't. because his cock is rutting along the warm press of your walls, being milked for all his worth, and yet–

it's not enough.

the first sob startles him more than it startles you, but kyle is too far gone, mouth agape, letting drool stain the soft caress of your shoulder. he feels your walls clamp down harder on him, your slick gushing along the twitching length of his cock, drenching his crotch, and kyle feels the need throbbing from his gums—

"god, mommy."

the fear that shoots through him is instant, snuffing the peaking elation of his pleasure. apologies gather on the base of his throat, choking him, cutting his air supply short.

messed up, he thinks to himself, already slowing down, pulling away. i fuckin' messed up–

"where's my baby goin', huh?" you croon, desire heavy on your tone.

you turn your head lightly, not enough to meet his eyes but enough that your voice is no longer muffled. "mommy didn't say you could stop, sweet boy."

kyle's body locks, his arms buckling, leaving him to stumble, all of his weight bearing down on you. his cock hits somewhere deeper at the sudden action, snug along the grip of your wet cunt. then, kyle cums, ecstasy razing through him as he mewls, his eyes shut close at the intensity of his pleasure.

he doesn't notice that he's humping your pussy as he shoots his warm cum into your cervix, stuffing you whole. like the good boy that he is.

"mommy, so fuckin' good f'r me. so good f'r me," kyle babbles, words slurring and incomprehensible.

white noise fills his senses, his eyes met with an explosion of blinding static. he is deaf to your squealed moans, not realizing the litanies of your own praises dribbling from your spit-slicked lips until the explosion of his pleasure peter into a quiet simmer.

shame curls in his heart, only for it to be snuffed out because you say, "my perfect boy. s'good f'r me. s'beautiful f'r me."

prickling feeling envelops the backs of his eyes, his body trembling at your continuous reassurances.

you coo, "always makin' me feel good. always pamperin' me. y'r the loveliest boy, kyle. my lovely boy."

kyle hides his face on the back of your shoulders, stifling his sob.

"thank you," he says, voice a quiet tremble.

"shh," you say, breath hitching at his aborted movements, feeling his cock still hitting your sensitive parts. "won't you make mommy cum now, lovie?"

"f'course," kyle replies, heart still wavering because–

how was it all so easy when it comes with you?

he knows you and him will have to talk about this later—semantics need to be smoothed out, establish boundaries. make up rules for kyle to follow.

he shivers, cock twitching with new interest.

"'of course' what, darlin'?"

kyle breathes in sharply at what you're asking. then, "f'course, mommy."

you hum, a happy titter. "good boy."

#anon #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #cw mommy kink #female reader #ask #suns

[nightdiary]

txt as moments of intimacy

word count: 2.7k genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort author's note: this is my first published work, so i'm a bit nervous to share it with the world! i'm quite happy with it though, and hope that it can bring anyone who reads it a sense of comfort and warmth. 🤍

✧ yeonjun - washing your hair

when you come home after a particularly draining day, yeonjun's almost too quick to pick up on your weariness even if you're smiling. he instantly notices the tenseness of your shoulders and your bleary eyes when you shuffle up to greet him with a hug, one that's too rigid and awfully telling.

his heart squeezes when he watches you trudge to the kitchen and slump by the counter, dropping your keys and wallet onto it with a sigh. yeonjun likes to think he’s an expert at comforting you, especially after having been together for so long, but on days like this, uncertainness creeps up on him relentlessly.

drawing up beside you, he reaches out to trace a gentle hand on your upper back, eyes softening as you practically melt into his touch. he thinks he hears you mumble an apology, and something in him falters.

"how about i run you a bath?"

and before you can fully process his question, let alone finish saying yes, he's jumping out of his seat and speedwalking to the bathroom.

the bathroom smells like sweet lavender and cream honey when you walk in, and you find yeonjun crouched by the faucet, struggling to make bubbles with the liquid soap. he doesn't realize you're there until you giggle, startling him into nearly falling face-first into the growing heap of pink bubbles.

after you strip out of your day clothes, you shyly shuffle into the tub under yeonjun's watchful stare. you dare to look up only once you're submerged up to your shoulders and find that his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration. if anything, that just makes you feel even shyer.

yeonjun takes care in gently detangling your strands and making sure that he doesn't accidentally tug at your roots. his ministrations are slow, massaging your scalp and letting the blunt end of his nails drag along just the right places. you can almost fall asleep like that, lulled into a hazy doze by his soft humming and the comforting warmth cradling your head.

he takes his time in properly washing the product out of your hair and ensuring that none of the suds fall into your eyes, cupping the area just above your eyebrows with heed. once your hair seems to be all done, his hands slip to your shoulders and begin to knead in slow circles, coaxing soft sighs out of you the closer they draw to your neck.

after you're out of the tub and wrapped up in a clean, fluffy towel, yeonjun will seat you on the toilet lid and blow dry your hair. it's a bit awkward, especially since he hasn't really done this for anyone but himself, but the fondness with which he carefully cards through your damp strands is enough to make you forget all about your day.

✧ soobin - baking together

ever since soobin initially suggested you two bake brownies a month into your relationship, baking quickly became your favorite couple’s activity.

you were never really an expert, quite the contrary, but soobin reassured you that baking required less skill and more love. naturally, you called bullshit on his encouragements. if you couldn’t properly handle a mixer, much less bake cookies without burning them, you were sure it was a sign from the universe to stay away from baking.

and yet, several baking dates later, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the silly desserts you and soobin would curate. you even had a shared pinterest board on which you added any eye-catching recipes you scrolled past, and had gone through a sizable amount yourselves. from chocolate hedgehogs to studio ghibli-inspired creampuffs and outrageously sweet brownie-oreo hybrids, you’d pretty much explored all ends of the dessert category with soobin.

“this looks like a lumpy boob, not a cookie,” you whine loudly and step back from the counter angrily.

you and soobin are currently in his apartment’s kitchen, whipping up cookies for his family to enjoy tomorrow. after you found out they’d be in town, you slipped the suggestion to your boyfriend, who delightedly offered you two take on a family recipe. in retrospect, everything was going to be fine.

until you actually got your hands on the damn dough.

“babe, you have to form it with your palm, not your finger,” soobin giggles. he abandons his own tray to sidle up behind you, grabbing your wrists gently and imitating the technique he’d been using.

“i’ve tried,” you huff. glancing down at your hands, you watch in awe as your boyfriend manages to fix up the shape of the cookies, forming them into perfect hearts and stamping space in their middles for jam.

between the two of you, soobin was by far miles more experienced and adept at baking. you often found yourself frustrated with certain steps of recipes, unfamiliar with more practical methods and tricks that the directions called for. as such, you’d end up partially screwing up, and–

–and each time, soobin would drop what he was doing and come help you. he’d gently guide you and talk you patiently through what he was doing, ensuring that you understood the logic behind the approaches. he never once responded to your panic with annoyance or carelessness, despite the numerous times it’d happened.

without fail, soobin would always knead your worries away.

“there! do you want to go try with the rest of my dough?” you look over your shoulder and blink soobin’s face back into focus. he’s looking down at you with a soft smile, raising his brows when you take a minute to respond.

“yeah, i’d like that soob,” you say. before he can walk away, you spin around and cup his face with your flour-coated palms, giggling at his surprised squawk. pecking him squarely on the lips, you revel in his dazed expression before skipping away smugly.

✧ beomgyu - teaching you how to play his favorite game

despite how cool your boyfriend is, he's also a huge dork.

the kind of dork to geek out over computer games and text you with long strings of excited emojis whenever he progresses to the next level. the kind to facetime you during rounds and send you screenshots with updates, even if you have no idea of what you're supposed to be looking at.

it's really cute, you absolutely couldn't deny that, and it makes you feel ten times more enamored with him, but he is still undeniably a dork.

he's playing something on his computer when you arrive at his apartment for your date. it’s saturday, meaning it’s movie and takeout night for you and beomgyu, so you’ve come prepared (read: a slightly damp plastic bag with several containers of noodles, rice, and various types of meat). you call his name as you slip your shoes off, frowning when all you hear in response is the keyboard clicking from down the hallway.

peeking into his room, you shyly knock on the wall to get his attention. beomgyu almost falls off of his chair in surprise, but he launches up almost immediately to engulf you in an embrace. he asks if you’re okay waiting a couple of minutes for his round to finish, at which you readily nod and proceed to plop yourself down on his bed.

watching beomgyu play through his round is surprisingly entertaining, particularly because you’re not really sure what’s going on in his game. your gaze drifts off to his concentrated expression, tracing his soft features and dropping to his bitten lip with interest. something in your chest flutters, but you quickly push it aside when you see beomgyu lean back in his chair and a leaderboard pop up on his screen.

the game’s over, and yet you can’t help but be curious.

"can i try?"

you think he might laugh it off, might just shake his head and call you cute, but beomgyu's chair swivels around to face you and he looks anything but humored. instead, his wide eyes meet yours and you almost startle at how eager he looks. he nods bashfully, and as you draw nearer, you notice the growing red tint along the tips of his ears.

you're instructed to sit between his legs and rest your arms on his desk cover, hands hovering over the mouse and LED keyboard nervously. they're quickly covered by beomgyu's own, and he situates them on top of the necessary keys as he walks you through the basics of moving around and using items in the game.

it's honestly a bit confusing at first, but you think you get the hang of it when you manage to get through the first level. it's also very difficult to concentrate when you have beomgyu's chest pressed up against your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, so it's a miracle you don't end up sending his character into one of the lava pits from the get-go.

after a few minutes of familiarizing yourself with the basics, you begin to feel a bit braver, so you decide to join the queue of a team round. it isn't exactly the best decision, given the exasperated remarks from your teammates in the chat, but beomgyu cheers you on regardless and claps keenly when you score.

unsurprisingly, you place somewhere right above last place. but beomgyu is sure to give you a congratulatory kiss (or two) when you turn around to grin at him sheepishly.

✧ taehyun - sharing clothes

drip, drip, drip.

the rain outside of your window had measurably subdued, but you were still suffering the consequences of being outside at the wrong time. wrapping the towel tighter around your shoulders, you frown up at the murky sky and slide the curtains closed again.

“you’re going to catch a cold like that,” your boyfriend’s voice rises from behind you, and you look back to find him toweling his damp hair. you also find that he’s not quite clothed, just like you, and resist the urge to scoff despite your reddening ears.

the situation you found yourself in was frustratingly preventable. if either you or taehyun had taken a look at the forecast for the day before meeting for your date, you wouldn’t be shivering or about to catch a cold. you were caught outside when the storm came on, and taehyun’s place was the closest shelter you could take, so you braved through the few minutes of running in the rain to get back.

your heart catches in your throat when he steps closer, and you pointedly look away from his defined torso. he’s smirking, you can tell from your periphery, but you won’t let him win this time.

“and it’ll be all your fault,” you huff. “where’s that sweatshirt you promised me?”

taehyun laughs, and you instantly feel yourself relax despite the way your body's shaking. he gestures for you to follow him, and you watch as he digs around in one of his drawers for the promised snoopy sweatshirt. it’s the one he was wearing when you two first met, and undoubtedly your favorite from his entire wardrobe.

as you’re slipping it on and reveling in the comforting smell of his laundry detergent, you catch a glimpse of a criminally-familiar shade of pink out of the corner of your eye. tugging the sweatshirt down properly, you thank taehyun and watch him pace over to the side of his bed to grab some moisturizer.

while he’s busy rubbing on lotion, you curiously open the drawer again, and– there it is. your beloved hoodie. in all of its stolen glory.

“hey,” you say, furrowing your brows. “isn’t this that hoodie i texted you about? the one i wanted to wear out with my friend? you said you didn’t know where it went!”

picking it up, you hold it out in front of you and frown.

any sound from taehyun’s direction halts and you look over to see him grinning shamelessly. “oops?”

“i’m going to start keeping a lock on my closet,” you grumble. ignoring the flutter in your chest, you haphazardly fold the hoodie back up and toss it onto the bed.

taehyun says nothing, but you hear him approach you and hold your breath, trying to will your racing heart to calm down. except that he doesn’t kiss you on the shoulder like he usually does when he senses you’re upset. instead, you hear more shuffling, and can’t help but sneak a glance over to see what he’s up to.

you’re met with an image that makes your chest feel stuffed to the brim with butterflies. taehyun’s wearing your hoodie, his hair adorably ruffled, and he’s looking up at you with wide, smiley eyes that melt away any last of your resolves. you can’t even pretend to be mad at him anymore.

“you can keep it i guess,” you know your exasperated sigh sounds fake to both of you, but taehyun laughs and kisses you on the cheek for good measure.

his fingers dance along the sleeve of the snoopy sweatshirt you’re wearing, humming absentmindedly as he brushes off any rogue pieces of lint. “yeah? i suppose this is a fair trade then.”

✧ kai - tracing his moles

kai’s bed is cramped. warm, comfortable, but also cramped.

you’ve woken up from your nap because of something poking you in your upper back. you don’t need to turn around to know that it’s one of your boyfriend’s plushies, likely the new pokemon you’d gifted him for his birthday. you were plenty excited when you’d found it in store, absolutely delighted because you knew he’d be overjoyed with it, but you were slowly beginning to strongly dislike it.

reaching back with a wince, you attempt to dislodge the stupid glaceon, prodding and pushing around blindly, but your bicep begins to burn uncomfortably after a few moments.

a soft huff from your front draws your attention away from the pressure against your spine. kai’s face is nestled comfortably against your chest, and it seems like he’s trying to wriggle around and make himself space further up, closer to your collarbones. immediately, any prior negative thoughts vanish, and your heart practically melts.

your boyfriend’s sleepy noises are enough for you to abandon any efforts to move the plushie, so you settle with running your fingers through his hair. it’s blond for now, and surprisingly soft given the intense bleaching process it’d undergone. he stirs in response, but the happy hum he lets out reassures you to continue with your movements.

blinking blearily, you squint over at the blinds covering the windows, where the sky outside has turned a mellow, sunset-y orange. you’d slept through the afternoon it seems, but you have no intention of getting up anytime soon. looking down at the boy in your arms, you surmise kai might feel the same.

his eyes flutter open like he can read your thoughts, and his lips pull into an adorable pout. smiling back, you let your hand gently fall to cup the side of his head, thumbing at the speckled spots you find.

“weirdo, why are you staring at me while i sleep?”

“your moles are really cute,” you say, ignoring him. tracing the tip of your finger up from his cheek, you tap his temple gently. “they sort of remind me of a constellation. like the big dipper.”

you feel rather than hear the flustered whine that kai makes, right against your sternum. he curls up against your front, and you almost forget about the fact that he’s big enough to have his feet hang off of the end of his bed. his arms and legs wind tighter around you, almost as a form of punishment, and you gasp when you feel his hand flitter up your side threateningly.

thankfully, no further moves to tickle you are made, and you relax again in his hold. he’s warm, pleasantly so, and you can feel your eyelids beginning to droop.

you’re almost asleep when the pressure along your back disappears. you hear shuffling, and then something that feels an awful lot like kai’s arm brushes your side. incoherently, you mumble a soft thank you, and you’re certain he’s understood you when he kisses your forehead and tucks you into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

#nightdiary.writes #txt #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt fic #yeonjun headcanons #soobin headcanons #beomgyu headcanons #taehyun headcanons #hueningkai headcanons #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #txt imagines #txt boyfriend #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together headcanons #yeonjun fluff #soobin fluff #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #hueningkai fluff

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part one)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was (maroon)

An imagine loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist

series list: part two - part three - part four

themes: fluff, Aemond and the reader being friends first, shy reader, red wine antics, language + Aemond does not have his disability/lost eye in this one (but I plan to write it in for a potential part two)

word count: 3.8k

The reader has always admired Aemond Targaryen from afar, the brother of her best friend Helaena. Little does she know, she has caught his eye as well. Something is revealed one night, encouraged by a sudden splash of maroon.

"You've been awfully silent tonight," Aemond says, "and more so after Helaena went to bed. Is something wrong, y/n?"

Your fingers tighten around your wine glass, unsure of what to say. Perhaps you have withdrawn back into your shell when your best friend Helaena decided she was going to bed early. She is quite the lightweight, after all. A few sips of wine and she was out.

You didn't mind. But she left you here with Aemond, sprawled out on the expensive carpet in their living room. He gracefully leans against the couch, remaining poised. One thing you admire about him is the way he carries himself, almost with a sense of regal austerity that makes him intimidating to most people. Add that to the fact that Aemond is one of the heirs to the Targaryen business empire, the richest family in the city.

But for some reason, he is gentle with you. Treating you differently than he does anyone else. Almost with reverence. Helaena once joked that he shouldn't go easy on you too much, with you being tougher than you look. Aemond just laughed it off, but you stood there awkwardly, unable to hide the way your face grew flushed all over.

Your crush on Aemond Targaryen has only gotten worse since then.

"I'm not silent," you find yourself blurting out in a defensive tone, "I'm... just... nursing my wine, that's all."

Get your shit together, y/n.

A small smile appears on Aemond's lips, as he notices your increasingly flustered state, "Okay, I believe you."

"Good," you look down at your glass, swirling it around. What should I say next? What should I say next?

Aemond interrupts your nervous train of thought, continuing his sentiment slowly, "Because, you know, I would hate to think if there's anything wrong, or if you feel uncomfortable in any way. We are friends, y/n. I want you to feel that you can be free around me, as you are around Helaena."

He just knows the right words to say, doesn't he?

"I know," you respond, in a calmer tone that even surprises you, "and I appreciate that, Aemond. I apologize if I come off as aloof sometimes - "

"Don't apologize," he laughs dryly, "if there's anyone who knows what it's like to come off as aloof, it's me."

"True enough," you smile, taking a sip of your wine. You don't notice Aemond’s eyes follow your movement, fixating at last on the way your lips curve against the glass.

"Tell you what," he says, "how about we play a game? Break the ice even more and all that."

"A game?"

"Yeah, like, I haven't a clue... truth or dare?"

You gulp, your mind racing with the possibilities of what that game usually entails when played out, "I don't think that works with just two people, Aemond."

"Why not?" he slides a bit closer to you on the carpet, and your heart races ever faster.

"It just... it just doesn't!" you shrug, breathing out in a slight huff. He's so close. So close.

"I say it can work, y/n."

"Really, now?" you raise your eyebrows, "I'm not built for doing dares."

"We'll keep it simple. Nothing too ridiculous. And if we don't want to tell the truth, or do a dare, we just have to take three sips of wine."

"Hmm..."

"Or even soda, or water. If you prefer. I don't want to feel like I'm making you drink. Helaena would murder me if you get too drunk whilst in my company." Ah, Aemond. Always so considerate.

"I'm okay," you smile, "I'll stick with wine."

"So you accept my offer?"

You take a deep breath, in an attempt to steel your nerves. Before you can chicken out, and change your mind, you say, "Fine. Let's play."

"Wonderful," he smirks, "So, darling... truth or dare?"

"Truth," you croak, the way he addressed you as darling still echoing in your ears. There's no way you'll jump right into a dare.

"Okay. What was your first impression of me?"

"Oh," you rack your brain for an appropriate answer. One that can be said out loud in front of Aemond anyway.

"I, uhm, I thought you were polite."

"Polite?" he laughs freely, "glad to know I make that much of a lasting impression."

"I mean, not just that," you lean forward, "you were well put together, I guess. Quiet, but not shy. I got the sense that you know exactly who you are. You've got a strong sense of self, and as a result, you know how to take care of yourself, and your family. It's admirable, really." You also thought of running your fingers through his astonishingly silver hair, craving to know what it felt like, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"Hmm," he smiles softly, looking down, almost wistfully, "there was a time when I was quite different, you know. I was so insecure, and so angry. It's a miracle that I've grown into who I am now, but I am proud of myself for it."

Aemond is opening up to me? You get a sense of innocence with the way he spoke, and a sincerity, with all pretenses put away. Here, he is just Aemond, not this great heir or this renowned scholar. “That truly is something to be proud of,” you profess, “I, for one, am proud of the person that you are.”

His eyes light up as he looks at you, “That means a lot coming from you, y/n.”

“Does it?” you ask. Why would it? Since the first time you met, over a year ago, you have not had many lengthy interactions. The handful of times you were brought together, with only the two of you, were purely coincidental. Like this very moment. You did not expect to be drinking wine with him on the carpet tonight. You had actually considered heading home after Helaena went to bed, but Aemond took your hand, pulling you back down to sit with him, imploring you to please stay. Just a while longer.

And you are glad that you had.

“It does,” is the only thing that Aemond says in response, and as much as you want to press on, you decide to let it go.

“Okay, Aemond. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he takes a sip of wine. You think of how pointless the whole condition of only having to take a drink when refusing the challenge has become. You two continue to drink, either way.

“I dare you to… uhm, tell me something in High Valyrian.” You’ve always been fascinated by the Targaryens’ native language, them being originally from the faraway country of Valyria. It is truly a place on top of your bucket list, and you secretly wish that Aemond would take you there one day.

“That’s easy,” he smiles, then pauses, looking at you directly in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, as if mulling over what to say. Then you hear it.

“Iksā gevie.”

You swallow nervously. The way his voice deepened went straight to your head, making you feel slightly faint. You whisper, “That sounds… lovely. What does it mean?”

“I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder, your confidence gaining a significant boost from the wine, “Come on. Just tell me. What did you say again? Ikse gevya... gevy?”

He beams, amused by your pronunciation, “Iksā gevie,” he repeats, “Eek-sah gev-yeh.”

“Right, right,” you nod, taking another sip of wine, “Just you wait until I type that in Google Translate. It better not have been anything rude.”

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he promises. “Truth or dare?”

“Eh… dare,” you say, but you immediately change your mind. “No, wait, truth! I choose truth.”

“Are you absolutely sure, darling?” Aemond croons, tilting his head.

“Truth.”

“Alright, then. Are you seeing… uh…” he pauses, clearing his throat, “are you seeing any… any chance of you working for our company in the future?”

Are you seeing anyone? He had wanted to ask instead. Aemond internally kicks himself for pulling back.

You notice how weirdly he phrased that question. You choose your answer carefully, “Well, it’s definitely something I would consider. You know how much I admire your family. But, I don’t want anything handed to me on a plate. If I were to get a job there, I want it to be on my own merit. I don’t want you or Helaena or anyone to vouch for me, or put in a good word for me, just because I’m your friend.”

“I understand, darling.” He smiles at the determined way with which you spoke. His stubborn girl. “But if you ever need any help, I’m here.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand gently, as a sign of your appreciation, “Thank you, Aemond. You’ve always been kind to me.”

He looks down at your hand around his, and he clutches yours in return. When your eyes meet, you see that his gaze is so warm, so gentle. You feel as if you are being held. Like you’re safe.

You finally let go of his hand, “So, truth or dare?”

And so, the game continues for another half hour, the two of you growing increasingly inebriated by the minute. The wine glasses have been put to the side, the two of you opting to  take turns with drinking out of the bottle instead. You answer all sorts of questions from Aemond, such as “Which of the Targaryen siblings do you think should run the company?”, “Who’s your preferred drinking partner, Aegon or Daeron?”, and “Do you like my hair better short or long?”

You ask him your fair share, but one thing that sticks to your mind is what he answers to “Are you interested in anyone at the moment?”

“Yes. I think so.” He says, and you can tell that he is being honest. Your heart sinks at that. Of course, there would be someone who already caught Aemond’s eye. He is one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, after all. Women everywhere are vying for his attention. It only makes sense that he would eventually meet someone he truly liked.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and Aemond astutely picks up on what you may have assumed.

“Darling, I - ”

You cut him off bluntly, not remembering that it’s his turn to ask, “Truth or dare, Aemond?”

“Hmm,” he stands, your question hanging in the air, with his hand outstretched for you to take, “come with me. I want to show you something.”

Taking the wine bottle, you stand and interlace your fingers with his. “Where are we going?”

He guides you out of the expansive living room, turning right at the end of a long hallway. He pries open a glass pivot door, revealing the private stairwell of their penthouse. Without a word shared, you climb up the flight of stairs together. One floor, two floors, three. Until you reach what can only be the roof of the high-rise building they live in.

The cool, midnight air is a refreshing assault to your senses. Immediately, you feel more awake, less drowsy from the wine. The rooftop is spacious and has been outfitted with a seating area, plenty of potted plants, dainty lighting fixtures that hang from the posts, as well as an exposed room littered with bust sculptures. The balcony stretches all around its perimeter, made out of ornately carved bronze.

“Wow,” you say, after taking it all in. “I’ve never been up here before.” You turn to look at him, and he seems pleased at your reaction. You add, “And you live here? Imagine. My entire apartment must only be a quarter of this rooftop, if not less.”

“Hmm,” he smiles, looking around, “I like to come up here to think. This rooftop is rarely ever in use, since my family all prefer to huddle downstairs. And well, Aegon’s afraid of heights.” He sneers at the end.

“Is he now?” you hand him the bottle of wine, “Remind me to bring that up the next time we see him.”

“Last time he was up here, he threw up over the balcony.”

“Oh, god,” Aemond laughs at the way your face scrunches up in disgust. “That’s quite a long drop. I hope he didn’t hit anyone on the sidewalk with it.”

“What a shame, really. That would have been the most interesting lawsuit.” Aemond remarks, before motioning with his head for you to follow him.

He reaches a plush seat facing the balcony, and the two of you sit in relative silence for a while. The whole city seems to be sprawled out below you, and the stars above also gleam much closer, like they are just within reach. Your wandering eyes take everything in with awe, but Aemond only watches you.

Instead of the stars, he thinks of how you are within reach. If only he would just let you know how he feels.

When you turn to finally look at him, you are surprised to see that he has been watching you. “Aemond,” you say, “why are you so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you so nice to me? From what I’ve seen, you are indifferent to most people. It can’t just be because I am Helaena’s friend, is it? You don’t have to treat me like I’m some fragile doll, you know. I won’t break, I swear.” Your voice takes on a sarcastic tone, and the corner of his lips lift in a smile.

He looks away, facing the tops of the buildings in the sprawling city that his family empire practically owns. Prince of the city, some people call him.

“I know that, darling.” He tilts his head partially towards you. “I like that you’re… different. I mean, trust me when I say, the crowd that the lot of us are exposed to tends to be entitled, shallow sycophants.”

“Bit harsh, Aemond.”

“Perhaps,” he smiles sardonically, “but anyway. I’m used to people only being interested in me because of my last name, or the family legacy. No one’s ever bothered to see me for who I truly am, save for only a handful of people. Because of this, I get quite protective of Helaena, since she can be overly trusting. She only chooses to see the good in others.”

“That’s what I love the most about her,” you say sincerely.

“Hmm, yes. But it also makes her more vulnerable. She’s had friends before, who were only clearly hanging around her so they might leech off of her higher status.”

“Aemond, I’m sorry to hear - ”

“But not you. I am aware that Helaena tried to help you before. Tried to get you a better apartment, or get you a high-ranking job with us. It would be easy, just like that. But you refuse, time and time again. You don’t mock us either, simply for being who we are, and having this much privilege. You see us as people, and unfortunately that’s a rare thing. I can tell that you truly care for Helaena, otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang around her at all,” Aemond smiles, nudging your shoulder, then drapes his arm on the back of the seat behind you.

“Overprotective brother much?” you taunt lightly.

“It’s an affliction I choose to bear,” you notice how he has leaned closer, his breath warm on your face.

You swallow nervously, “So, I guess you answered my question.”

“Partially,” he shakes his head slightly, “darling, I’ve got a long list of reasons why I like you, and that’s only scratching the surface.”

“Oh.” If you thought you felt faint before, then you were just about ready to pass out now. Panicking, you raise the wine bottle to your lips, taking a long drag. But when you pull the bottle away, you must have done it in a nervous rush, causing it to tilt in a way that wine spills out and splashes on your shoulder.

“Steady, y/n.” Aemond takes the bottle from you, setting it down on the stone floor.

“Fuck.” You look down and see the wine stain on your shirt, seeping wider, a shade of scarlet so deep it could be mistaken for maroon.

Suddenly, Aemond laughs. You want to act incredulous, or annoyed, but the sound of his laughter is so hearty and genuine. And so rare, that you find yourself smiling at the sight of his dimples deepening, and the faint lines around his eyes bursting free.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “It’s just, at the rate you’re going with the wine, you could be giving Aegon a run for his money.”

“Ha-ha,” you dab at your shirt with your hand, but it doesn’t do much good.

“Come, I can lend you something to wear.” He takes your hand, leading you out of the rooftop.

“It’s alright, Aemond. I can just borrow one from Helaena.”

“She’s already asleep,” the two of you descend down the stairwell, stopping at the first floor below.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” Where is he taking me? Must be the laundry room, or a guest room?

“I insist,” he declares, dropping your qualms altogether.

You come to a halt in front of a wooden door, painted a brushed forest green. Before you could ask anything, he holds the door open for you, “This is my room.”

You look at him expectantly, unsure of whether you should enter. He only smiles, “After you, darling.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, and the maroon patch still vivid by your shoulder, you step inside Aemond’s bedroom. It’s massive, predictably, just like every other room in this penthouse. The walls are a comforting, deep shade of forest green, just like the door. There are also accented panels of dark gray, to avoid a monotony of colour. The furniture is simple, clean, modern. Yet each one possesses intricate detailing. His bookshelf covers the entire eastern wall. His bed… well. You compose yourself, trying not to let your mind wander.

You feel him standing behind you, waiting.

“Nice room,” you say.

“Hmm,” you can practically hear the smile in his voice, “thank you. I don’t really bring anyone in here.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose - ”

“Stop. I asked you to come in here, y/n.” He walks over to a sliding door to the left, revealing a large walk-in wardrobe. Of course he would have one of those.

He disappears inside for a moment, before returning to you, a dark green sweater in his hand. The same shade as his bedroom walls. Hmm. Aemond seems to have an affinity for green.

“Here, put this on.” He hands the sweater to you. “This should be comfortable enough to sleep in.”

“Thanks,” you take it, feeling the material in your hands.

“No problem,” he continues to look at you, and you have to ask, pointing to the walk-in wardrobe, “Could I maybe change in there?”

“Right, sorry, I should have offered,” Aemond smiles, looking down.

“One second.”

When you gently slide the door shut, you lean back against it, taking the deep calming breath you’ve been holding in. Being around Aemond makes you feel as if your very skin is on fire. The attraction you feel for him becomes so palpable, making you somewhat a nervous wreck. There’s no need. Like he said, he is your friend, y/n.

You sit on the bench in the middle of the room, taking your shirt off. Hurriedly, you put on his green sweater, and he’s right. It is so damn comfortable. And it smells exactly like him.

“Everything alright in there?” you hear him from behind the sliding door.

“Y-yeah,” you say. Taking your stained shirt in one hand, you stand, and meet him outside.

He studies you, admiring the way his sweater hangs off your torso. “Hmm,” he remarks, as he always does, “you look better in it than I do, y/n.”

“Well, thank you,” you say sincerely, before adding, “but I have to disagree.”

“You look beautiful.” He suddenly says, the words immediately taking root in your heart, “You are beautiful.”

“What?” you croak, your voice coming out in an astonished whisper.

“That is what I said earlier,” he continues, “That is what iksā gevie means.”

“Oh.”

Aemond crosses the few steps needed to erase the distance between the two of you, plucks the shirt from your hand, and deftly tosses it to a nearby chair. Then, he takes your hands in his. He gazes into your eyes, and his expression is a mixture of longing and reluctance. He then traces your cheekbone with his fingers, delicately, as if you will crumble under his touch. And you just might.

“Aemond - ”

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.”

You feel the urge to ask him what those words mean, instead you choose to simply let it be, and just bask in the sincerity in his tone. In the way he does not drop your gaze when he spoke them. In the way his hands slowly find themselves on your waist, pulling you close.

He leans in, slowly. And the whole world ceases to exist around you. The ringing in your ears becomes silenced, and there is only Aemond. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like, his lips pressed against yours. His devotion reserved only for you. It seemed like a dream, but now, it is well within reach.

But the dream is shattered when a heavy knock echoes throughout the room. Three, brief, raps on the forest green surface. That was all it took to break the spell.

Aemond’s brows furrow in frustration, his hands still on your waist. There is an anger in his voice when he calls loudly over his shoulder, “Yes?”

“It’s me, sir.” You recognize the intruder to be Criston Cole, the head of their family’s security team.

“Wait here, darling,” Aemond says, running his finger over your lips, over what he could have taken if you had not been interrupted.

Aemond opens the door, and you briefly meet Criston’s eyes from across the room.

Your presence in Aemond’s room seems to catch him off guard, but he straightens quickly, “Aemond, there is someone here for you.”

“At this fucking hour?”

Looking at you once more, Criston lowers his voice when he replies, but you hear it anyway. “It’s Alys Rivers. She’s waiting for you downstairs as usual.”

As usual. Alys Rivers. The famous model and socialite. You knew of her from the magazines, the internet. There have been tabloid articles of her and Aemond, but you knew better than to pay any attention to them, not believing that there could be any truth to such lowly forms of media. Or at least, that was what you assumed. But if she’s here, in this ungodly hour, then…

“I think I should get to bed,” you walk towards the doorway, “to Helaena’s room, that is.”

“No,” Aemond stops you in your tracks, grabbing your arm, “wait. We aren’t finished yet. I just - ”

“Your guest is waiting, Aemond.” You cut him off, not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, while he tries to get you to look at him, but to no avail. You’re worried that if you do, you might not be able to leave.

Criston shuffles out of the way to let you through, greeting you with a cordial, “Good night, y/n.” You notice how there might even be a hint of regret in his eyes.

Each step feels heavy as you make your way down the hallway to Helaena’s room. Compared to how you felt, mere moments ago, as though you were floating on air.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, your thoughts racing on what might be happening down the hall. Who is Alys Rivers to you, Aemond? Why did she have to ruin what would have been a perfect night? Are you just stringing me along?

When you finally succumb to slumber, you fall into a dream.

Of who else but Aemond? Of who else but the one whom your heart desires?

Ok ok ok. This will be the last thing posted before part 5 of Heart on Fire. I think. 🤞

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.” - "I'm going to kiss you now." - Aemond 🖤

Maroon just had to be multi-chaptered. It might be my favourite track from midnights.

Apologies to those who have sent requests. I do see them, but I'm just a bit bogged with uni/life at the moment. Hopefully will write a lot more soon!

Also, thank you thank you for all the kind remarks/messages. You guys are amazing. Any suggestions for part 2? Let me know in the comments 🖤🖤🖤

Aemond/HotD taglist: @aemcndtargaryen @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @blackravena @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mrswhitethornbelikov @mikariell95 @thermiting @witchofthenorthstar @m00n5t0n3 @booknerd2004 @throughgoeshamilton @xcallmetaniax @wrendermeuseless @m-indkiller @graykageyama @nsainmoonchild @milemarianne @immyowndefender @moonmaiden1996 @caspianobsessed @schniiipsel @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @random-human02 @icarusignite @flourishandblotts-inc @siriusdumblittlepuppy @just-a-harmless-patato @moni-cah @boofy1998 @huntycola @angel6776 @sanguinalia @thelastcitysposts @daeneeryss @wondergal2001 @huntycola

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #midnights

[abrcmswrld]

Talk to Strangers

Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 4,951

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), stalking, unprotected sex, angst and fluff and smut, a decent bit of tears, obligatory mentions of murder

Summary: You’ve warmed up to Edward despite his cold nature, but what happens when the puzzle pieces start to fall together and you can feel someone watching you in the darkness?

Authors Note: I actually tried so hard on this yall, I posted this to my ao3 page first so I am sorry if the formatting is all kinds of messed up on here :( This is my first fic i’ve posted since 2017 so I sincerely apologize if it’s meh, i also don’t have anyone else proofread my fics so i apologize for any errors i missed! enjoy!

Ao3 Link

He's arrogant. Oh so arrogant, and you can't fucking stand it. You watch him every morning as he strides in, past your desk at reception, white button up shirt, clear framed glasses, shaggy hair that falls over his forehead . He's certainly not a hit among the office, so maybe you're not wrong in your feelings. Though your other co-workers generally regard him as a pushover- not a self-absorbed asshole. He's good at what he does, sure. He's earned his spot, but he often brings a shadow into the rooms he walks into. A presence that you can only describe as infernal.

You don’t know much about his story. You generally pride yourself on getting to know the people you surround yourself with, but he has never let you get close enough to find out. Maybe that’s why you find him arrogant. He thinks he’s too good to speak to you for more than two sentences related to files he needs you to fax for him. What you do know about him is that he’s been at KTMJ for longer than you have been- maybe 5 years more. You can still remember the first time you met. You were fresh faced and eager. Seeking validation, in desperate need of some stability.

You extend your arm for a handshake. His hands are slightly clammy as he accepts your handshake. And though you had greeted him with your brightest smile (might as well go all in if you ever wanted to be anything other than a receptionist) he hadn't smiled back. He'd kept a rather straight face as he gave his brief introduction. "Edward."

Now you have a sense of stability. Sure, the quality of life in Gotham is subpar and you still haven't received that promotion, but you make enough to live comfortably in comparison to others in the city. You try to count your blessings.

━━━━

You had already been having a shitty day. Your landlord had informed you of an increase in rent rates by slipping an envelope under your door. Sure, it sucked to be asked to pay more for an apartment that could be deemed shitty by any normal person with a pair of eyes, but it was the lack of communication that got you. Not even the decency to call your residence and tell you with their own voice. Just a slip of paper under the door.

But you tried to bring a good attitude to the office. You hate being the one to damper the mood. You would rather leave that to him. Always him. Never smiling back at you as he walks through the door, never meeting your eyes to acknowledge your presence, nothing. And you were used to that. It would be okay, if it weren't for the stack of papers that laid on your desk when you got in. Neatly stacked with a green sticky note reading "Need copies. -Edward" scrawled in messy handwriting. You immediately feel the flames rise into your chest.

It's a quick stride from your desk to his cubicle, stack of papers tightly tucked into your fist. You slam them onto his desk as soon as you reach it, and he raises an eyebrow at you in response. "What the hell is this?" He glances at the papers and back at you. "The copier isn't working. I wrote what I needed." You sigh, annoyed at the fact that he doesn't understand.

"You couldn't have waited for me to get here and brought them to me yourself? I would really appreciate it if you would treat me like a human being every once in a while, ya know, actually acknowledge my existence." You realize how dramatic you must sound, but in all honesty you've been thinking it for years, it was only a matter of time before it came out. "I needed copies. I didn't think my acknowledgement meant that much to you." He holds his hands out in defense, feigning that he actually cared if he had hurt your feelings.

"I think you think you're smarter than everyone else here." You plant a hand on the table in front of him as you crouch to his level.

He sighs and you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "I do. Is that so bad?"

"It makes you an asshole."

He finally faces you.

"Better to be an asshole than to be an idiot."

His voice doesn't carry any malice, yet the words feel like a slap in the face to you. It leaves you scrambling for a response, opening your mouth only to close it a second later. Until you decide to merely respond with a nervous chuckle. Sure, you thought his response showed his ego, but you had to admit. He got you. He faces you once more at the sound of your light chuckle, green eyes meeting yours completely. "I guess you're right."

You catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"If it means that much to you, I will greet you next time."

━━━━

And he does. Greet you that is. You find yourself talking to him more and more. Sitting in the break room with him at lunch, looking over his shoulder at the crossword puzzle he works on at his desk and giving your best shot at an answer, relishing in the furrow of his brows as he turns to look over his shoulder at you. He's an asshole. He's arrogant. But there's something about him that's drawing you in. Sometimes you feel like a fish caught in a net. All those moments he'd brushed you off and yet you find yourself repeating the little quirks of his soft smiles in your head. You hate the term "work husband", but it seems that Edward is slowly becoming the very definition of that.

You don't speak outside of the office, but you find yourself gravitating towards him when you're stressed. You tell him about your landlord and the reason you had gotten so defensive with him. He understood.

"It's a cesspool here. None of these people actually care about people like us, not the landlords, not our coworkers, certainly not the politicians." He had said in that moment.

As October rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you find yourself beginning to bring two coffees to work, one for you, one for him. He always shows an appreciative nod. But the moment you start to think about asking him to actually go out with you for coffee is like being the fish pulled out of the water and accepting it's inevitable fate. You were gonna let him drive you insane.

You're sure of it as you are caught up in the nerves and find yourself softly grabbing his hand to stop him outside the front doors of the office. You quickly pull your hand from his. no doubt blushed a deep red. But he just stares, waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat. "I- um- Sorry, I was just gonna see if you had plans now." And it pains you the way he doesn't speak, just continues to stare.

"There's a diner on the corner near here. I think they have decent pie."

He loosens the tension in his shoulders and looks down. "Oh. I'm actually sort of drowning in... paperwork right now." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. God, you hoped you hadn't made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

You quickly shake your head and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh no! It's totally fine, I probably have paperwork to finish too." You hope it hides the pang you feel in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow." You swiftly turn and walk away before he can respond.

━━━━

But you wouldn't see Edward tomorrow. Matter of fact you wouldn't see him for the next three days after Halloween. You try not to let it bother you.

It's the beginning of a cold November, he's probably just sick or desperately needed a vacation. Or perhaps you'd seriously fucked it all up and he couldn't even stand the sight of you. You can't stop the deep sigh that comes from you as you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand. Embarrassingly, you ask Zach if he's heard from Edward. Not that you expected him to be particularly helpful. "Are you guys, like, fucking?" You are stunned and stammering your words. "Wha- No! No. I just worry about him."

"Look, I wouldn't worry about him too much, I mean the guy's basically a fucking recluse. When do you ever see him outside of here? Maybe it's good that he's somewhere besides here."

Still, there's no chance of you actually focusing on work and you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news headlines, before one in particular catches your eye.

'Mayoral Incumbent Donald Mitchell, Jr. Murdered in his Home on Halloween Night.'

Holy shit.

━━━━

Edward is back at work after three long days, and despite your worry of his annoyance and anger, he is oddly elated.

It's the first time he approaches your desk. Leaning against it, coffee cup in hand, and flashing an awkward smile before asking, "So did I miss anything?" It leaves you a little taken aback, but it's a relief to see him approach you willingly after your last conversation.

"Um yeah, Zach was a total prick as usual- Oh! And our mayor was murdered."

He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the coffee cup. You feign annoyance, "No but seriously where were you? I started to wonder if that psychopath got you too."

He smiles. "Just sick. November weather and all."

━━━━

The first time you see the green mask you are in a huddle of coworkers around a computer screen.

'Police Commissioner, Pete Savage, Murdered. Killer Leaves Shocking Confession.'

"My God. What a sick freak." Zach interjects.

You can barely stand to watch. The video is hardly graphic aside from the disturbing voice of the masked man, but the implications of what happens when the video cuts off leaves your stomach turning. You walk away. Desperate for some space, but also desperate for a distraction. Edward sits straight in his office chair across the room. You hesitate slightly before striding toward his desk and leaning your weight against it. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead as you lightly brush hair from your eyes. "Shit."

It's merely a whisper to yourself, but he turns his head to face you. For once his face shows concern towards you. Yet he still says nothing, only looks. Observant as always.

"Sorry. I needed to get out of that." You gesture towards the group of coworkers still huddled and murmuring among each other. He glanced back, before turning back towards his work. "The news?" He inquires quietly.

"Yeah. It's a little too much for me to stomach." There's a little pause as if he is hesitant to say anything before finally replying, "They were pricks. Don't you think they kind of deserved it?"

You straighten up, looking at him with shock. "I think they were still people with families." He frowns at you before you finally walk away from his desk to make your way to the restroom. You needed to get a grip.

━━━━

Edward apologizes for his insensitivity after work. You had stayed with him outside of the building long after all of your other coworkers had left. "It's fine." You refuse to look at him as he lights a cigarette and gets in a few quick puffs. You're being mean. But if you're honest the combination of his rejection and his comment earlier in the day had set you off. "And I'm sorry for last week." Only then you look up at him.

"I've had a lot going on, and it feels a little unfair to bring you into all of that."

"This feels like an excuse to let me down easy. It's okay if you just don't want to go on a date-"

The feeling of chapped lips on your own stops you mid sentence. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes and you crave more, but he pulls back quickly. His free hand remains at your cheek, holding your face in a gentle caress. "It's not an excuse. Things are just complicated for me right now." His eyes never leave your face. It's the best look you've gotten of them. Of him. His features are gentle behind shaggy hair and acetate glasses.

Something feels wrong and eerie in the back of your mind. Like seeing him this close gave you a sickening feeling of deja vu. Things were definitely complicated. The bags under his eyes were showing his exhaustion well, he had gone from elated to unwell since his return. He seems like a broken man, but he'd never let you close enough to find out why. You can't help but feel the connection, like he deserved a shot even if he didn't want it. Even if he thought he was smarter. Even if there's a side to him that could hurt you. You push down your feelings of uneasiness.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

"When you're ready."

━━━━

You're awake nearly all night the next weekend. Spending the entire time digging through news about the figure known as The Riddler, his possible next targets, possible identities, and most importantly all of the video footage he'd put out in the last few weeks. It's certainly not healthy. You generally steer clear of these sorts of things. Years of therapy had gotten you far and you would rather not ruin it by desensitizing yourself. But you can't help it. You find yourself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole until you find yourself tuning into his streams late at night.

He speaks with such a confidence in himself. As if he has all of the answers, and is just waiting to enlighten the world. His followers are even more terrifying. They'd do anything for him. You wonder how low a person must be in life to resort to this sort of behavior. But, you're not a psychiatrist. Who are you to speak on these people. These strangers.

"We are going to cleanse this cesspool of city."

You slam the laptop shut.

Sleeping isn't easy after this sort of activity. You should've known. You turn on a show you don't actually care about to give yourself some sense of security in background noise. And soon you find yourself drifting asleep. It's not great sleep. You can sense yourself tossing and turning, but you can deal with it. Everything is fuzzy until you find yourself on your back.

Paralyzed.

It's not uncommon for you to experience sleep paralysis, but you've experienced it less after your time in therapy. You try to keep your breathing steady, trying to convince yourself that whatever you see is merely a hallucination.

Shh. Shh. Just breathe.

But the figure that appears is familiar. That's what scares you the most. The green coat and mask is horrifying as it inches towards the bed, and you can't scream. you can't move away. You can only watch the blood drip from his gloved fingertips onto your floor as he stares. Tilting his head at you slightly, as he brings a hand up to his head. You can hear your heart pounding and you are practically internally begging yourself to wake up. The latches on his mask pop open and you're horrified to find that the face underneath is so familiar. A slight smirk on lips you have kissed before. Blood dripping from a hand that you've held before. You try to scream. Tears falling down your temples until he is suddenly gone and you shoot up in your bed.

You can't hold back the cry that escapes your throat. It wasn't real, he's gone, and you're safe in your room.

━━━━

Until suddenly the safety of your room begins to feel a lot less safe. You hear it. The creaking of the floorboards at night, the slight tapping against the glass of your bedroom window. The slight squeak of leather rubbing and rustling together. You're too scared to open your eyes those first few nights. You'd rather be blind and take your fate than die in paralyzing fear.

But you know it's him.

It was never unclear what was staring at you in the night. Maybe the nightmares of the leather gloves touching your skin hadn't been nightmares at all. You want so badly to be sickened. To run into your bathroom to empty your stomach out of panic and fear. Instead you feel a strange mixture of annoyance and arousal in your gut.

He thinks he's smarter than you.

You find yourself playing into his games.Attempting to one up him. To show him you aren't scared of him. That you can keep up. You begin to deliberately change in front of your window. Letting lacy fabric hit the cold floor and standing just a tad longer, stalling before covering yourself back up.

You hope he's watching when you peel off your work tights. You hope he's imagining himself on his knees tearing the delicate fabric from your form, only to be blocked by a thin pane of glass. You wanted the upper hand.

You hope he's watching as you sink two fingers into yourself, thinking about crisp, white button ups and clear framed glasses.

━━━━

The next few weeks are tense at work. You heard the news of what happened to Gil Colson at Don Mitchell's funeral. Edward would walk in everyday, and attempt to greet you, only this time it's you who is short. You have a little hope that he can't see straight through you. But you can see it in the way that he looks at you that you're an open book. Who's to say that he won't just watch, but actually kill you to keep you from talking. But deep down you both know your lips are shut tight.

So you work through the days, just ready to get home. You can hardly stand to look at him. It makes you feel like you're an accomplice. A sitting duck for a man who probably doesn't even care about you, withholding a tip to the police because deep down you really do like him. And you had hoped he liked you too until things got complicated. Now you think it would just be best if he abandoned you right where you were. But he doesn't. In fact, he suddenly has more courage than you'd ever seen from him. It's evident as he catches you by your arm and pulls you into the alleyway beside the office after work is over. It's dark and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but he kisses you like nothing is wrong. Like he has no clue. Like nothing has changed.

You pull away from him, wide eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly as he brushes a hand up your arm. You can't help the break in your voice. "I know, Edward."

He just stands and stares. "What?" You take two steps back. "You're killing people." He continues to stare. He drops his hand from your arm. The silence scares you more than anything. But he simply sighs.

"I think you should go home and get some rest."

And before you can argue he walks away with a quickened pace.

━━━━

So you do. You return to your shitty apartment and try to compose yourself. What would he do now that you said that? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had accused him of something he genuinely didn't do. But it didn't feel wrong. You sigh as the hot water hits your back. You had hoped a shower would help you feel refreshed, but for the first time in a while, it feels like a chore. You can't enjoy it, so you rush through it. As you step into your bedroom you stop in your tracks. The window is slightly ajar, a cool draft flowing in tingles your bare legs. And then you see him. The figure in the darkness of your room. This time you're not dreaming.

He's in your room. You're paralyzed. The position you swore you'd never let yourself be put in. He's got the upper hand.

He just stands there. A part of you wishes he would attack you. Kill you. Anything just to break the still silence. You realize you're shaking. You agreed to play his game and now you're trailing his lead, allowing yourself to be beaten.

"Edward."

It comes out as a shaky whisper, but he visibly takes it in as he steps toward you to close the distance. You can see his eyes crinkle at the corners through the green mask. He's smiling. And he reaches a gloved hand to your face, cupping one cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand even through the glove. So, he is human. The Riddler has a beating heart and flowing blood. He is not a cold, lifeless monster. His stoic frame you had become so familiar with at work was gone. He catches a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

He is terrifying.

"No more through the window. I'll be gone soon."

Before you can entirely comprehend the statement and it's implications, your brain forms the word that leaves your mouth. "Gone?"

He simply smiles again, this time reaching his hands behind his head to abandon the mask he had come in with, and there he is. Cherubic features glowing under the street lamp light that flows in from your window. "I watched you live for a month. I watched you eat, sleep, undress, touch yourself. But you knew that right? Otherwise you wouldn't have put on such a show."

You attempt to struggle away from his grasp in disgust at his words but he holds you tight in front of him. "But that's alright. I'll tell you the truth because I hate liars. I liked knowing that you were doing it all for me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse Gotham, to give them true salvation, but you put a dent into that plan. You became a distraction that I foolishly indulged." The soft light is hitting his features just right. He looks like an angel in devils' clothing. And his tight grip is right back to a gentle caress. His hand reaches the small of your back and you're sucking in a shrill breath.

His kiss is soft, inexperienced. Much like the other times you had kissed. But he is treating you like glass that might break. You think it might be the first time you've seen him relax enough to be seen as a particularly gentle being. He's ditched his looming, arrogant behavior you're so used to just to show you his utmost affection. It's the first time you have seen him like this since the first time you had kissed.

But some part of you is burning. He's not your prince charming. You know exactly what he is capable of, you've seen it. You're not glass. You're not a damsel. This is a man who has watched you undress for him through your window for weeks. This is a man who has killed. And it shouldn't bring heat into your core the way it does. Perhaps it's the thrill of the danger.

You kiss him so hard that your teeth clash. It stuns him as his hand lifts from your body momentarily before finding purchase at your hips. He's inexperienced, but the desperation coming from both of you is enough to cover it up.

The warmth and weight of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating. The little sparks of guilt and shame that flash in your stomach are quickly subdued by his nimble fingers caressing under your nightgown and up your thighs to hook in the waistband of your panties. You can't help the pathetic moan that escaped your mouth as he slowly drags the fabric down your legs.

"I wanted to do it right. Wanted to take you to that diner, buy your food, take you home, and act like I hadn't thought about fucking you into your mattress every single night."

It's almost strange to see him on his knees. He has built himself up to be godlike. You were sure he wouldn't mind you on your knees in front of him. Absolutely worshipping him. The warmth of his tongue swiping over you has your thoughts lurching, and yes, god, he is divine.

"But it would be wrong to pretend to be someone I am not. I'm not a liar."

You can't help but tangle your fingers into his beautifully unkept hair and pull. He is ravishing you. Sinking two fingers into you until you feel the heavenly curl right into the spot that makes you whimper. "Eddie-" He swallows your moans in a desperate openmouthed kiss. His fingers are working you open, you can feel tightness build in your stomach. Like a rubber band ready to snap. But it's ripped away from you as he pulls his fingers out of you and swiftly pushes you to the bed. The sounds of his belt buckle coming undone has your heart racing faster than it already was, your stomach fluttering.

He buries himself inside of you with no hesitation, no time to adjust. It hurts and his inexperience is noticeable, but the look of bliss on his face and his slight whimpers has you ready to cum before you've even started.

You're gripping onto the back of the green leather parka, reminding yourself of who you're with. Who you're letting fuck you right now. But those green eyes bring you back to all those times he'd flash a slight smile your way in the office. He'd try to hide it but you're the only person he showed fondness towards in that hell hole of a workplace. Thinking back to the night he had kissed you has tears welling up in your eyes again. He notices.

He slows his pace momentarily, letting his short thrusts turn into long drags. A gloved hand wipes tears away once again and you meet his concerned gaze.

"Does this not make you happy?"

Your hands move to cradle his face. A move that he's certainly not used to as his thrust halt for a moment in surprise. "I am happy. But what comes after this? Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend I know nothing about you? That I feel nothing for you?" He stops his movements completely now. The room has fallen silent apart from the heavy breathing between you two.

"I have to mean nothing to you. Momentarily."

You knew the answer before you asked the question, but it hurts just as bad anyway. You don't take your eyes off his. The Riddler's facade is cracking before your eyes, you can see his eyes becoming glossy. It's almost like he's turned into a completely different person. He kisses you. Deeply, but not rough. There's so much pent up feeling behind it, you could sob even harder. But you don't and he keeps kissing you as he resumes his movements.

You're not using any protection, but you're too blissed out to care. You crave that feeling of warmth. "Eddie- I-"

His hips start to stutter as he cuts you off and buries his face in your neck. " I love you- please God- just say it back to me. Tell me you love me." You hold his face in your hands guiding his gaze to meet yours again. "Edward, I love you."

That's all it takes for him to fall apart. His whimpers and cries are like music to your ears and the feeling of warmth as he releases everything he has into you is blissful. You both have to take a second to recover, foreheads pressed together. But eventually he rolls off of you carefully and tucks himself back into his pants. The silence is deafening. You said it to push him over the edge, but was it true that you loved him? The idea of falling in love with Edward was easy in your mind, in a perfect world the idea of settling down somewhere else and waking up next to him felt good. But this wasn't a perfect world. Edward killed people, powerful people, and the chance that he'd get away without paying for it was slim.

"I'm gonna turn myself in in a couple of days."

"Okay."

"You should leave Gotham. It's not going to be safe for you here. If the cops ask you're visiting a friend in Bludhaven."

His hand grips yours as he looks at you.

"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."

━━━━

You do as he asked of you. Got a hotel in Bludhaven and in the next couple of nights you watched the television endlessly, waiting to see his face. The night you finally did, you cried yourself to sleep, gripping the hotel sheets as you buried your face into your pillow.

But you held yourself together and did as Edward asked.

When the man in the bat suit showed up at your hotel door a week after the flood you give your best answers.

"I'm visiting a friend, but the flood has kept me in town."

"No, I didn't know him well, we just worked together."

"I mean he was a little strange, but I never thought he would murder someone."

“I would never have expected it to be him.”

"I hope he gets the help he needs."

#edward nashton #dano!riddler #dano riddler #paul dano riddler #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #dano!riddler x reader #paul dano #danonation #the batman #edward nashton smut #edward nashton fluff #edward nashton ily forever -abram #gonna log off for the night to keep my nerves down i think

[suengmi]

can you do where boyfriend! skz are teasing w reader but say a joke that hurts their feelings and they realize and immediately apologize and make it up to you (fluff)

hi anon!! ty for being my first ask, im excited to write! not sure if you wanted full stories/drabbles but i hope you like what i did! <3 also i'm a bit unwell and drained from work so pls be kind. took so long because i ended up writing a lot for some.... like a lot OOPS i trailed off a bit to make it more realistic but asjsdkkjasd anyways im sorry if it's not exactly what u wanted ;_; i did my best, plus i didn't want to make it all the same i guess? but yeah about .6k for each member!

warnings will be written below member names!! all under the cut~

warnings for all: not completely proof read but wanted to answer this prompt asap!! i'm half asleep it's 3am pls also all gender neutral!

┋bang chan ┋

context: grocery store is never fun, especially when your boyfriend doesn't know how hard it can be for you. new!relationship, domestic bliss grocery shopping for a night in

warnings: slight ableism??? before he knows??? idk, chan a bit spicy with his words so not complete fluff my b, some cussing, not the fluffiest pls im sorry idk what HAPPENED

word count: .6k

chan grunts at you, eyes rolling, "i told you it's the wrong one you dumb dumb. "

you look down at the japanese curry powder, trying to make sense of the words written before you. you haven't been with chan for long, but he's treated you better than anyone you've ever met. he's kind, giving and always knows how to make you feel better. he knows that you're happier when it rains, he knows that you get angry whenever you lose a game, he loves that you always defeat him at uno and enjoys how you make a week long parade about it. he already loves you but definitely doesn't know it yet.

there is one thing you're still trying to gauge about chan is how sometimes he can shoot first and ask questions later, and this is one of those moments.

chan frowns, pointing at the curry packet in your hand. "this is the spicy one."

"i'm sorry." you say in a low tone, still trying to read the packet but the font is harder to read, "they look the same."

chan snatches the packet from your hand, placing it back next to the seemingly same ones. "well maybe if you read it you properly for once. i had the runs for like 2 days last time. you know me and spicy no agree."

"i can't.... sometimes."

chan turns to you. "huh?"

you take in a deep breath and speak fast, "i have dyslexia."

"what?" he questions confused.

it's then when the penny drops after a moment of silence. realization a wave over him, all the times he told you to read properly, how many times he made tut noises at your replies not having complete context and how he would grunt when you didn't comprehend something.

"why didn't you tell me? there's nothing wrong with that...?" he prods, gaze gentle towards you.

you fumble with your hands, picking at the skin at the sides of your thumb, your mind trying to find what to say. "i dunno."

he sounds so apologetic when he eventually speaks, he wonders how he could have been stupid. it makes sense. all the times you've told him about your ex and how he called you stupid and dumb for not reading well, making fun of you and saying you just don't pay attention. "i made fun of you so much... wow i'm a dick-

"no it's okay" you interrupt him, a small smile on your lips not wanting him to be hurt.

chan purses his lips while taking your hands in his. he looks at your eyes, his own intense and apologetic. "no- it's not okay, i make fun of you so much for thinking you just didn't pay attention, shit, i'm sorry. i joke all the time about how your brain is always else where."

and with that chan knows that he definitely could have picked up the pieces earlier, that you said it to him, without words. "i'm just... fuck i'm sorry."

"i just you know with my ex they-"

chan pulls you in for a tight hug, as if hushing the words you were about to spill, your glasses pushed against your eyes but you don't mind. he smells like fresh baby powder, his own scent you love mixing in with the clothes he's wearing. you know chan's going to make up for it and that he'll do everything to make you feel better. because you love him too, you just don't know it yet either.

﹋﹋﹋

┋changbin ┋

context: changbin loves working out and you love watching him, even if you don't think he doesn't know. freshly known feelings, uni!au, living together in dorm (i know you said !boyfriend but this was too good not to write hehe)

warnings: CHANGBIN SHAMELESSLY FLIRTING ACK, implications of taking a relationship further (physically), voyeur reader lmao

word count: .5k

you turn your gaze over to your friend, housemate or whatever you two had going on was called. you'd never really thought of changbin as someone you'd like, his gentle an soft nature was a contrast to the man currently a few metres away from you. weights in hand and grunts slipping from his mouth. you lean your head back to get a better angle, the veins on his arm revealing themselves. you knew he liked you and you liked him, but neither of you would dare to open that pandoras box. well, not until tonight.

it's a moment later that changbin stops his routine, almost meeting your stare. you raise your brows, attention turning back to the laptop in front of you. what on earth was i doing? you think, pretending to type something into the computer.

"thirsty?" he asks you, pretending he didn't noticed your eyes on him every now and then for the last half hour.

you turn your attention to him "wha?"

he laughs into his chest, stretching out his arms, "you have drool on the side of your mouth."

"i do- i do not!" you say slamming the laptop down, folding your arms on your chest knowing you've been caught.

changbin laughs, sitting down on the couch next to you, "didn't know i owned a dog."

you had no idea he could be this cheeky, making fun of you for simply watching him. after all, you were perving in a sense.

"don't make fun of me! i know i was... watching."

a smile dances on his lips, knowing that you can be sensitive to these things. "i'm sorry." he almost sounds apologetic... almost. "but... it's just too good to catch you out." he says in a slow almost seemingly mocking way.

"stop it." you mumble, facing the other way. "you know i have issues with... bringing this stuff up."

changbin tugs on your ear to gain your attention, feeling bad for making you feel slightly uncomfortable. but hey, you were the one watching. he smiles and says, "i know i know, i'm just teasing. i'm really sorry."

"i know but... please don't, this is hard for me."

"okay okay," he whines, gently lacing his fingers in yours, testing the waters to see if you'd be okay with this affection. "i promise i won't make fun of you, but if you wanna watch feel free to, don't have to be shy about it."

a blush dances across your cheeks and ears, your tummy suddenly feeling a knot of embarrassment grow. "changbiiiin." you groan, planting your face into the couch cushion.

"okay maybe i lied, i'll definitely enjoy making fun of you."

﹋﹋﹋

┋hyunjin ┋

context: you hate feet. hyunjin thinks it's funny. established!relationship, living together

warnings: obvi mentions of feet?? mentions of vomit

word count: .6k

hyunjin knew you hated feet, just how they looked, how they acted and gripped on the damn floor whenever someone would walk bare foot. hyunjin loved walking around the house barefoot, and it sometimes made you feel woozy, just the image of your own feet touching the floor... imagine. you shivered at the thought, sitting down on the couch next to your boyfriend, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch.

you pat your legs, instructing him wordlessly to lay on your lap. he complies without a thought, scooching back and nestling his head into your soft legs. he let's out a gentle "mm" as he settles in. "soft" he coos, rubbing his head a few times before turning his attention back to his switch.

after another episode of your favourite show, hyunjin suddenly brings his feet up, inspecting one of them. "i think i have glass in this one."

"do you need to do that here?" you say in a tone, eyes avoiding the grippers in sight.

"nah can you just check this one?" he says with difficulty, throwing his foot back towards your face. if you weren't so grossed out you'd probably be impressed by his flexibility.

"hyunjin please--" you swat away his foot with your phone, pushing yourself back into the couch.

"nah see in the big toe right here."

"hyunjin! you know i hate feet stop!"

he struggles, folding his body further to get his left foot near you, "babe just look here near the nail."

and that's when you feel a lump in your throat, nearly retching at the sight. the rice dish you had earlier suddenly feeling not so settled.

"oh shit." hyunjin says in a shock turning his attention to you, hearing your strangled noise. "are you okay?"

"no i'm not okay, go away." you say behind your hand.

shit, he knows he did wrong. his seemingly funny joke was definitely taken too far. he feels bad, real bad. he knew you didn't like feet but not this much. it'd never really come into question the time you'd been together, but god he had no idea.

"jeez i'm sorry." he's unsure where to place his hands and fumbles, words not forming correctly.

you sit in silence for a moment before regaining your thoughts. "don't. fucking. do. that."

hyunjin's eyes are pleading, the guilt in his face almost makes you not want to get him back but then realise you can use this to your advantage. you look over at the massage oils on the table and back at him. "i have an idea."

and you know he'll do whatever it takes. he still had glass in his foot, but that wasn't important right now.

------

┋felix ┋

context: felix thinks your tummy is cute, but you're just not used to it.

warnings: mentions of weight, body issues, tight clothing, BUT ITS FLUFF I PROMISEEEE, felix just a silly soft goose

word count: .6k

"come out please." felix begs, head leaning against the door.

you're sitting in the bathroom on the floor, dressed in nothing but your boxer underwear and a tight bed shirt, felix's bed shirt. you can feel the anxiety seeping into your chest, the weight of reality hitting you. you and your boyfriend had been together for only a month, but this was the first night you were staying at his house. it was on a whim, since most of the trains and buses had stopped running. and of course, you had nothing to wear. so there you were, tight shirt and all. you've never been uncomfortable with your body, if anything you love your body. but for some reason the way that felix talked about your stomach irked you. maybe he meant it as a joke? what did he mean? either way you were upset and needed space for a moment.

"please, i didn't mean it like that." felix sighs against the door, "it's soft and i love it."

you cast a sad expression towards the door. still unwavering from your position. why do you have anxiety now about this? all he did was grab your tummy and tell you it's soft like a kitten belly, or how it reminds him of those marshmallows that fold and how much he loves it because it's you, and he loves you.

you hear nothing but the cracking of a knee, felix bending down to put his fingers through the gap of the door underneath. he splays his fingers like a cat trying to get in the bathroom, darting against the tiles.

"lemme in!" he chimes, grunting to get his fingers further in. "i'll get in either way!" he jokes, using both of his hands under door to attack. it makes you laugh. it reminds me of those videos of cats wanting to get into the bathroom, or videos of racoons grabbing food.

"am i close?" he jokes, moving his hands back and forth.

you groan, stifling a laugh as you get up to open the door. "not even." you say, being met with pleading eyes. you look down at him, his hands still pretending to search where the door once was.

but he suddenly swoops you into a hug, hands around your waist, his head pressed into your soft chest, enjoying the smell of his shirt mixing in with your scent.

you relinquish any negative thoughts you have, melting into the hug. "i know you didn't mean it like that but, i think i'm just nervous... because it's you."

he pulls back, arms still wrapped round your waist, probably a bit too tight. "it wasn't a joke, i do love it." his eye are filled with nothing but love and adoration for you, your body an your mind.

"just... choose different words, please... i'm not a roll of marshmallows."

felix pulls back suddenly before gently pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "tastes sweet." he retorts about your statement, ignoring your words before kissing you again.

"i'm-seri-ous." you say between kisses, you feel his his hands digging into your hips.

instead of stopping, he grins, love apparent in his eyes. "my marshmallow."

you roll your eyes, a bit of anxiety still in your throat but knowing he adores marshmallows, you figure it's okay for now.

﹋﹋﹋

┋jisung ┋

context: a park date is cute until you get attacked my a crow, jisung think's it's funny. established!relatonship

warnings: jisung being a weenie, swearing

word count: .5k

the ground collides with your chest, the mud clouding your vision and your new shirt you brought for the date probably ruined. yep, i definitely tripped and yes it was embarrassing. you think, shame in your chest. of all the days, why your one year anniversary?

all you hear is the cackle behind you getting louder, sharp inhales of breath echoing in your ears. jisung has no shame, actively laughing at you stacking it to the ground.

"ahaha! the crow!!" he gurgles still, bending forwards over the picnic blanket, almost choking on his spit.

"jisung!" you yell, getting to your feet, seeing the mess on the front of you. that fucking crow, why did it choose me?

"jisung!" you yell louder, stomping over to the blanket, definitely covered in mud, dripping behind you as you walk.

"i'm sorry babe i'm-" he says between breathes.

you grunt before wiping the mud from your chest, still feeling it covering half of your face. "it's not funny."

"it fucking is."

jisung's laughs come to a halt as he realised you're upset upset, not just whining like you usually do. he notices how your eyes are suddenly pooling with wells. he stands to his feet and gently holds out his hands, "baby-"

"no!" you grumble, pulling your arms away, tears rolling down your cheek. "i just bought this top. now it's ruined." your dejected tone unsettles jisung, instantly feeling bad for making fun of you.

he says nothing, confused on how to react. but he waits patiently, allowing you to let out your feelings. he's always been good at this, always been patient with you.

after a breath you look back at him, red rings dancing around your eyes.

he smirks as he walks over to the mud and plainly sits down in it as if it what he was meant to do all along. you let out a small laugh, your hands wiping the rest of the mud from your face.

"what?" he asks plainly, as if nothing is weird. he grabs a handful of the mud before pressing it to his shirt, and then another handful to his hair, rubbing it in. "what's funny?"

you laugh behind your mud covered hand walking over to him. he smiles up at you like a puppy, knowing that he's succeeded in making you feel better.

and there he is, completely covered in mud, way more than you are and in that moment you fall just a little bit more in love with him. you lean down and press a gentle but muddy kiss onto his lips.

he stares up at you with nothing else to say, just sitting in the mud. you decide to join him, plopping down next to him, hand in hand as you both just sit in silence and completely covered in mud.

with jisung you didn't always needs words, sometimes the things he did for you were enough.

﹋﹋﹋

┋lee know ┋

context: you're getting ready to go out with friends, but your hair has other ideas, established!relationship, living together.

warnings/other: kisses??? idk, cuss words

word count: .5k

"it's not working!" you huff, re-straightening the side of your bangs for the 6th time. minho was confused at first, wondering why you're so upset over something trivial and small from his point of view. but when he looks up from his phone to see you struggling, his left hand still lazily patting one of his cats. he speaks without thinking,

"it's definitely like a pigs tail." he chuckles, looking back at his phone. in his mind, he assumes that he was just making a light hearted joke, thinking it was cute the way you got so upset over something he coined as small. plus, pig tails are very cute if you think about it.

it wasn't until you made a little sob that he noticed how you were actually feeling. you stare in the mirror, realizing it in fact does look like a pigs tail.

"baby-" he let's out a small but gentle sigh, "i was joking,"

"no you weren't. it... does look like a pig tail." you say between a small dejected sob, lips curled down and hands at your side as you avoid the mirror.

"let me help?" he says so gently as he approaches the bathroom door. instead of letting him help, you just melt into his chest immediately, your sobs muffled by his shirt. "i look like shit." you say defeated.

he lets out a light laugh, kissing the top of your head a few times, "you never look like shit, you know... even with your pig tail."

you step back, immediately hitting the tight muscles of his chest with both of your fists, "fuck off i swear." you talk through your teeth, still frustrated but feeling the urge to laugh in your throat.

"there you are," he says pleased at your spice, fighting with you to place a kiss on your temple, your hand starts pushing on his jaw, his lips puckered and ready. "c'mere." he says through your fingers, still pushing his head towards you, his hands gripping at your neck. "let me-- love you."

after a few minutes of roughhouse struggle, you push him back, feeing slightly better. it's in this moment you realize that you in fact do not enjoy asking anyone for help. but you speak, dejected tone apparent. "yeah... please help."

and nothing else is said while he fixes your hair, gently pressing small kisses on your cheeks as he does so. he knows he can sometimes say things without thinking, but he also knows that you sometimes enjoy just as much as he does. it's why you love him and why you two work so well together. after a few minutes he steps back to admire his masterpiece, a triumphant smile on his lips. "hmm," he ponders, "i liked the pig tail better."

"oi, don't start again you little shit" you say as you begin chasing after him, giggles dancing in with his own as he runs down the hall, nearly slipping on the rug. "get back here! you're in for it!"

﹋﹋﹋

┋seungmin┋

context: seungmin needs to shut his mouth sometimes, even if he doesn't know it. established!relationship, living together

warnings: seungmin being a spicy bitch, some playful physical aggression, kissing

word count: .5k

seungmin has you completely pinned under him on the couch as he covers you with kisses, not relinquishing his hold. "how many times do i have to say it?"

you grunt at the fact that he's weirdly strong in these situations, and as much as you struggle against his hold he's just completely powering over you. just the other day you were the one that had to help him open a jar. but thats besides the point. here seungmin is, currently trying to wiggle his way out of the fact that he took a joke too far. you're determined not to let him get away that easy.

you struggle once more against his hold, your legs flailing underneath him but he's just too damn strong.

he lets out a struggled breath, still above you. his hair falling gently from his face, "isn't sorry enough?"

you turn your head to the side, bottom lip pouting. "no."

"baby-"

you tut at him, tone almost darted, "don't baby me! you've lost your rights."

a gentle grin finds itself to dance over seungmin's face, he likes it when you fight back. he likes it when you put him in his place but still give him enough wiggle room to feel in charge.

"okay," he says with raised brows, "you win. i apologise."

you realise this is the perfect opportunity to get him back, for him making that stupid joke about something he knew you were insecure about.

"oh, whats this? kim seungmin, apologising, what was that?" you speak sarcastically. you're still under his hold, but you'll let it slide for now. "sorry i didn't quite catch that after you made me feel like shit for an entire hour. repeat?"

"i... apologise. i took it too far and i'm sorry."

you feel your chest rise, suddenly enjoying the power that seungmin has given to you. it takes a lot for him to admit he's wrong or that he's done wrong, this is just so damn satisfying.

"actually..." he trails off, letting your hands free a second before quickly grabbing the back of your neck. the kiss he planted on you was fast, and before you knew it you were laying back down on the couch, head dizzy from the sudden kiss, "you can't just make me forgive you with kisses." you speak in a semi-daze.

seungmin presses a kiss to your cheek and then a few more to your lips, the taste sweeter everytime. "i can, actually."

yeah, he's absolutely right. wait, what were we arguing about?

﹋﹋﹋

┋jeongin┋

context: jeongin fucked up, and he wants to make it better. fresh!relationship

warnings: none? kissing maybes, TOO MUCH CUTE

word count: .5k

it only took jeongin about half an hour to attempt to make it up to you.

sometimes being with jeongin was hard, as you both communicated in very different ways, it definitely was something you needed to work on. though, the one thing you loved about him is the absolute time and effort he put into making everything just perfect for you. when it came to you, everything he did for you was worth it.

after taking a walk to calm your thoughts, you realized you were still frazzled from the way jeongin teased you and how you ended up crying, resulting in him just left behind in a confused state. sometimes it took a while for the penny to drop with him, but once he got it, he really got it.

you step through the front door of his house, gently removing your sandals to be met with the sound of jeongin jumping up from the couch, hands out in a display. "ta-da!" he yells, it startles you.

you turn to meet eyes with your boyfriend, his face with a stupid grin slapped across it.

"what is-" and that's when you notice the many items splayed across the ground. there's a few towels on the lounge table, a tub of what seems to be hot soapy water, a box of facemasks and some nail polish next to it. the lighting is low and your favourite soundtrack is playing. you notice the scent in the room, jasmine tea, your favourite.

jeongin takes a deep breath in before showcasing his wares. "salon de jeongin"

"babe i-"

he steps forward, taking your hands in his before guiding you to sit down. "cmon" he coaxes gently, his beautiful dark eyes watching your every step. you say nothing as you follow him, unsure of what's happening.

as if he knows you're going to speak, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry."

you marvel at the sight in front of you once more. the fact that he built you a whole salon in his living room within thirty minutes is mind blowing. he knows your favourite scent, your favourite songs and all the products you use. you didn't even realize he had those.

you're still at a loss for words, unsure of where to put your hands or body. jeongin just points to the chair, silly grin still plastered on his face and eyes wide.

you sit down in the chair, eyes darting to jeongin. "does it cost extra for shellac on my nails?"

jeongin pouts in thought, "just a kiss."

"i can do that." you say back at him. and that's all it takes, you know you'll talk later about this and how you can communicate better but this... this was enough for now. more than enough.

"actually," jeongin ponders before leaning so damn close to your face, "i think it's about 4 kisses."

-

DAMN THAT WAS SO LONG I SPENT LIKE AGES DOING THIS MY BAD, i know it's not exactly what u said but oh well i wanted to make them all different!!!! ty for asking!!!!!! <3

#!mywork #bangchan x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #seungmin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #felix x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kid fic #fic #stray kids #bangchan #hyunjin #felix #jisung #changbin #jeongin #i.n x reader #seungmin #idk tags yet ill finish later lmao #stray kids x gn reader #stray kids x fem reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff

[403tarot]

Hey duckie, could you do Wonbin (Riize) as a boyfriend and his ideal type, please?

hi dear, i'll do wonbin's ideal type in another opportunity, okay? let's go with him as bf ☺️

남침 원빈 ㅡ wonbin as boyfriend 🔸

how he is:

wonbin is very affectionate when he's in love, the kind who even gets a bit silly and smiles at the walls when no one is looking. for him, love is expressed in small gestures, like intertwining fingers, a passionate gaze, a gentle kiss on the forehead... he prefers to show he cares through acts of service and his sweet and loving personality.

wonbin is the type of boyfriend who bends over backward just to find time to talk to his beloved, even if it's just for a few minutes. he calls, asks about your day, makes you laugh, subtly expresses that he misses you... all the while playing with his hair and pacing around the room, trying to dispel the nervousness that arises whenever he's talking to someone he cares about so much.

he is someone who fights to make the relationship work. differences in opinions? that's okay; he'll try to have a calm conversation and understand the other side. did something he said upset you? he'll make sure not to repeat what hurt you and apologize for it. in general, wonbin doesn't give up easily because he doesn't allow himself to enter into a relationship with just anyone. if he has reached this level of commitment with someone, it's because he believes it's worth the effort and seeks the same commitment from the other party involved. people who create drama, hinder communication, or invent reasons to create chaos are quickly dismissed by him.

what he seeks:

he is looking for someone willing to commit to a serious relationship with him and to have a structured connection. i think it's clear by now that wonbin is a methodical guy, so fragile relationships and volatile individuals are a big NO for him. wonbin seeks someone willing to reciprocate efforts on the same terms, someone mature who doesn't let external factors unnecessarily affect the relationship.

he's mischievous, eager to touch your face, kiss your lips, run his hands over your body... he wants someone who loves him passionately, who's on the same page, and isn't afraid of the consequences of that.

what makes a good relationship for him:

he aims to be the one who resolves problems on the spot so that in the future, they won't become the subject of discussions again. he detests when past issues are brought back to the table to be used as arguments. wonbin wants someone willing to go through life's various transformations with him without much hassle, someone with whom he can build loyalty and a healthy relationship, based not only on love but also on friendship and complicity.

i haven't done many readings for wonbin, but from the few i've done, i noticed that he is very focused on giving his best in various areas of his life, and his approach to love shouldn't be any different. it's been a few months since i read for wonbin for the first time, and now i feel that even in a short period, a lot about him has changed. i sense him as more mature and confident now, which is definitely surprising and has shown very positive reflections in this reading.

#— duckie notes ⪩♡⪨ #kpop readings #riize tarot #wonbin #kpop tarot #kpop reading #kpop astrology #riize headcanons

[tirkras]

[Angst/Fluff]brainrot will be with Sam x Emily now.

I came up with a name for them, it's: Sammily or Drugbook

there may be semantic or grammatical mistakes here, since I use a translator.

In general, Emily's parents do not approve of their daughter's relationship with Sam because he does not study well, and for a long time there have been rumors that Sam uses magnets (LMFAO SOBBING)

Emily is quite naive and her relationship with Sam is like "I can fix him" (most likely based on romantic books that she reads). Emily's knowledge of love and vision in this area are based only on romantic books that she has read. And as we know, everything is idealized and romanticized there. I think Emily's first love was not what she imagined.

The guy is a drug addict who reciprocated her purely out of pity and then drunk. This relationship didn't last long and Emily was very disappointed. She probably hasn't read romance novels since(but it's like, thoughts out loud).

Most likely, Emily fell in love first and was afraid to admit it to him for a long time. And when she confessed, it seems to me that Sam was drugged and reciprocated her feelings. And when he came to his senses, he could no longer get out with the words "I was wrong" , etc. because it would break Emily's heart. It seems to me that despite his chilliness, Sam somehow cares about the feelings of others. But over time, he gets attached to her, but the addiction turns out to be stronger. And Emily will also find out the truth(they'll get through this together.)

Unfortunately, Sam will not give up "drugs" and his addiction is getting stronger. Emily will not be able to "fix" him and will be very disappointed in him, as well as in herself.

Their relationship will end in a breakup, they will break up.

Well, now we'll go back to the fluff because angst is bitter.

The funny headcanon is probably Emily's passion for writing novels. She composes poems and stories herself and writes them in her diary. This is not a personal diary (although she clearly keeps one), these are separate diaries for her work.

Since she started dating Sam, she's had a separate diary for his bad tapes. Sam tells what bizarre visions and plots he sees in front of him and Emily writes it down in her diary where she will later make up a complete and elaborated story from all this nonsense of a drug addict.

Sam also tried to write poetry for fun, but his poems for Emily were not so prosaic and, in principle, refined, unlike Emily's poems. He always praises her writing, no matter how mediocre it sometimes is, even if he doesn't understand what's going on there at all.

Sometimes Sam illustrates her writings. Headcanon points out that Sam draws well💥

It seems to me that sometimes Sam draws Emily in his notebooks while distracted in class (for this he gets a lull from the Teacher)

Friends sometimes laugh at him because in general, what did he see in this nerd? But Sam laughs it off or snaps back every time, depending on his mood and degree of sobriety.

It also seems to me that he could have fought with Chad because of his tough joke about Emily💥

Back to angst.

Sam promised to quit drugs for Emily, he promised her. And at first he was holding up well, it seems that their relationship began to improve. But when a severe withdrawal occurred, Sam could not stand it and broke down.

This was the last straw in Emily's patience and her already cracked pink glasses shattered. She was hurt, hurt and sad. I think they broke up at this point.

It seems to me that on the evening of that day, Emily cried for a long time in her room, not letting anyone in. And she also asked her father not to let Sam in to her (he tried to explain and apologize to her, but Emily's dad kicked him out as soon as he appeared on the doorstep).

In the morning, she gave Sam the diaries with his bad tapes that she kept and also his clumsy poems, his drawings and all his gifts, and told him not to interact with her in any way anymore. Sam respected her choice, even though he was against it. They haven't spoken since.

And now back to the canon and the time of the fourth episode. I want there to be at least something between them, so:

I think at this time Sam and Emily could have been at odds over some small thing like: "You forgot to bring your camera" and something like "I'm not talking to you"

When Uzi went feral, they scattered and Emily tried to find Sam.

I think she could have been sitting under a tree and praying that Sam would find her and they could run away together, but Uzi found her.

If I add more angst, then I can say that Sam ran away in the first place, but then calmed down a little and ran in search of Emily and Uzi lured him with her. You know, just like with Lizzie, but instead of Lizzie, there's Sam.

As a result, Uzi tears Emily apart in front of Sam and pierces him with its tail, tearing him apart.

It turns out that they died in a small quarrel without apologizing to each other. Well, or you can do it in some other way, but I want angst.

I must say right away that I'm not saying that Sam is bad or Emily is bad, they're just silly

I really love angst and slow burn :3

That's the kind of brainstorming I had. Of course, you may have a different vision of this ship, and I hope you liked my vision! Also, I don't know if you can take it seriously, because I made it all up for fun. It was really fun and I love this ship.

#sam x emily #sammily #drugbook #murder drones sam #murder drones emily #murder drones ships #murder drones crackship #murder drones headcanon #headcanon #ship #brainrotting about it.... #shitpost????? #murder drones #glitch productions #murder drones fandom

[crispywaffles2]

Hi I have a request! How about macaque and wukong (separate) acting over protective after if finding out their (female) s/o is pregnant? And how would they act throughout the whole pregnancy?

Please and thank you!

Hi! Of course I can, thank you so much for requesting! I'm not really versed in this particular field of romance or the struggles that it comes with, so I apologize if a lot of these seem out of character or unbearably tropey!

Overprotective Macaque & Wukong with a Pregnant!S/O

Macaque:

The moment it's revealed that you're pregnant he's tweaking out

He doesn't know how to be a dad what the heck

But he also can't deny that he is kind of excited at the prospect of being able to take care of your child!

Or children?

Oh my gosh what if it's twins-

He's seen mortal babies and toddlers walking about in the streets with their parents, and he's well aware of how.. tiny... and stupid... and vulnerable they are

He never much cared for it, thinking that mortal children were weak for not immediately coming into the world with powers or some sense of right and wrong

But it's different with his child! He can't let the tiny, stupid, vulnerable kid in your stomach get hurt!

Rest assured that he's rearranging furniture to make it easier for you to maneuver around

He insists on going out with you everywhere, and if you were to ever voice that you were getting tired of it, then he'd eventually relent...

Maybe send a clone or two to watch you in the shadows without your knowledge, but other than that he'll leave you alone!

He will glare at anyone who's eyes linger on your growing belly bump for too long, giving them a silent warning not to come to close

He'll throw down his cape over a small puddle, gesturing for you to safely cross. He says it's a joke, but really he wants to look like a gentleman in front of you

Despite his overprotective nature, he will not fulfill your cravings without question

"A what?? Why on Earth would our baby need to eat that?? They probably don't even like it!"

Other than your strange food requests, he's happy, eager even to help fulfill anything else

Worried about the stretch marks forming in your stomach? He'll tell you about how they remind him of battle scars and shows off his scars to you to make you feel better

"See? We're both warriors."

In pain from bad cramps? He's secretly panicking and making bad jokes while tending to you because he's nervous.

Stays by your side all the time just in case you start feeling pain. He wants to be there for you

Secretly reads books and looks up videos for first time dads when he thinks no one is looking

He's a warrior! A master of the shadows!

Sly, cunning, teasing, playful, sure!

But a father?

He couldn't even picture himself holding a baby

When the delivery finally happens he is such a Karen

Might as well hire him as a doctor, considering how he practically tried to deliver the baby himself

Eventually though he composes himself and stands in the corner fidgeting nervously

He's never been one to cry, not even in his brotherhood days, but the tears that welled up in his eyes when he held your child couldn't be helped

Instinctively starts trying to groom the baby

It's all over now. You're not pregnant, and the baby is finally here

He's still pretty protective of you, and his child even moreso

All that he could think as he looked into the eyes of your writhing, still slightly damp, baby was those nine months of making frankly disgusting foods were worth it

Wukong:

Absolutely flips when the bomb is dropped that you're pregnant

He genuinely doesn't know what to do

He's not sure if he should be excited that he's going to be a dad or worried that he's going to be a dad

We all know Wukong is protective of those he loves and carries a guilty conscience about including them in his messes

He knows that pretending he knows what he's doing won't get him out of every situation. He knows how many messes he pulls people into. He knows that his lingering 'do now ask questions later' mentality can put those he loves in danger

And now he has a baby too??

It takes a bit, but he eventually starts to warm up to the idea

He's the monkey king! And he'll teach his child to be better than him. Stronger, smarter! Well, not that much stronger because then he wouldn't really hold the crown the one of the strongest beings and he would not be able to handle that

Still though, he'll raise this baby and change his ways doing so

He's cartwheeling all over the place after a while just from pure excitement

Trust and believe this man is NOT reading any baby books or watching any videos. He doesn't need some mortal telling him how to raise his kid. He's the Great Sage

Whether that's a good or bad thing is up to interpretation

He'll rant to his monkeys about all of the things he'll teach the child, and he does it with so much excitement that even they get pumped up

Will try to speculate it's gender and appearance with you

"Maybe it'll have your pretty eyes and my handsome jawline! Or maybe it'll have your hair and a little tail like it's dad!"

Makes little baby toys out of sticks and leafs

He is actually super overprotective of you, but tries to pretend he's just being casual

"Where are you going? Not that I care or anything... You're trying to go to the store?? Babe, you should totally just.. stay here with me. I can make one of my clones do the shopping."

Will furiously stammer and insist that he's not worried about you if you ask

He knows you can handle yourself! It's just... You're all pregnant and vulnerable and round and he's such a worrywart about you!

He thinks that if anything even gently bumps your tummy the baby won't grow or something, so he's constantly paranoid

Rearranges furniture so it's easier for you to get around

He even cleans up just to lighten your load a bit! He must really love you!

He's actually super eager about people looking at your belly bump in public and will absolutely go off on a tangent about how his beautiful partner is about to have a beautiful baby and it's going to be beautiful

But if someone gets a little too close to you he will not hesitate to push them down or maybe accidentally give them a broken wrist if they reach out to touch your stomach

Is confused about why everyone isn't literally bowing to you while you're walking the streets

Genuinely got upset when you two were walking through a crowd and he had to hold you because people wouldn't just part for the pregnant woman walking through

"What?? Ten dollars for this? You do know my partner is pregnant right? This should be free for her! Everyday is a struggle for her! You'd have no idea what she's been through and you're charging her ten dollars-"

He's an absolute Karen

Suggests putting a pillow over your stomach

"That way you won't bump into anything and our child can be cozy!"

Because Wukong is an absolute hazard in the kitchen, he's concocted a crazy amount of different foods

He has no problem fulfilling your strange food requests and even eats them with you

"Oh my goodness! I love crab cakes with syrup!! I'll make some for both of us bud."

Has like three different emergency plans for when you're in pain

The moment you lurch forward or let out a groan he's on it

With a snap of his fingers his monkeys are all marching over to help you sit down in a single file line

He sits there and soothes you as best as he can while his monkeys scamper around trying to get anything you request

When it's finally time Wukong is genuinely confused, thinking that it's just contractions or something, but you keep yelling at him and saying "IT'S TIME!!"

Time for what?? Lunch or...?

Thinking the baby is talking to him through you, he hoists you up on his somersault cloud and zips off

When the doctor gives him a strange look and tells him you're just about to have your baby he freaks out

He tries to help in any way he can, holding your hand, breathing with you

Offers to help with the delivery of the baby

"Oh, looks like it's a bit stuck. Need a little help there bud?"

Losing his mind in the corner of the room but trying to play it cool for you and the doctors.

"Why is it slimy?" Are quite literally the first words that come out of his mouth when the baby is delivered

When he finally has his child in his arms he's all over it

Kisses, cooing, holding, hugging or even just staring at it

He may not know much about being a father, but he will try his best to teach his child not to go down the path he did because he already loves it to the moon and back

#lmk #lmk x reader #sun wukong lmk #wukong x reader #lmk macaque #macaque x reader #lmk headcanon

[witchofthesouls]

I just read your seeker bird kiddo (Jack) and Truck dad Optimus adventures and I beg for more content, I adore it all and the spOoky cryptic parts are 👌

👁️👄👁️

Jack accidentally triggers mechs’ protective instincts because he makes baby bird noises to mimic the local corvids. It doesn't help that Jack parks himself at the entrance to the Ark and plays games with the more playful blackbirds. Dadimus is very much used to Jack’s imitations, the rest of the Autobots (and his counterpart) are most definitely not.

The chirping and screes are reminiscent of newsparks’ calls for attention and care, and it drives the resident Seekerkin up the wall because he is the only sparkling in the vicinity and Jack punches the Seekerkin-coding into activity after four million years of dormancy.

There have been a few jokes to take a recording of the sparkling’s noises and play it to the Decepticon Seekers after the Autobots had seen their own Seekerkin with the kid. TFP Optimus is immediately No. Stop. Control, Alt, and Delete that terrible plan. He will take Jack and run into the most remote environments he can find.

No one knows how Jack did it, but the blackbirds got into gambling, and everyone blames Smokescreen. 

He's partly to blame with the cards, but the dice is Bluestreak's fault.

Jack is a polite menace. The kid knows his manners, but that doesn't stop him from skipping up the walls, hanging on the ceiling, and popping into places that he shouldn't have access to. At all.

Mechs were confused why Dadimus pinged out so often but then realized that's the most reliable way to actually tag Jack as he's a slippery little thing. Sometimes the sparkling responds, but usually he doesn't.

Red Alert is on the verge of having an aneurysm since Jack can bypass all the security measures. Mechs have taken to looking up to see if Jack is trapezing on the panels or checking under the tables and desks because of near unfortunate incidents of almost shooting the kid or shock-related delays with time-sensitive chemical reactions that nearly turned the ship into a massive crater.

Dadimus was highly disappointed and upset by the last part as Jack knows better as he had done similar stunts when they were upon research vessels. Not only Jack had to apologize to Skyfire, Wheeljack, and Perceptor, but he wasn't allowed to stray from Dadimus' field for a month. ("Curiosity cannot override safety protocols.")

On one camera, Jack would be at a corner by the entrance with organic birds, and between blinks he would then disappear and reappear across the ship, talking excitedly to a random corner with a different group of birds.

(If anyone catches them at the right second, at the right angle, at the right frame... the raven/crow/jackdaw/jay will ripple. Feathers dripping and flowing like an inky waterfall and eyes splitting into multiple, countless pairs as Jack's shadow expands- And then, the watcher will blink because they have to, and the footage will reset. Devoid of Jack and blackbirds.)

There's talk about new cryptids going around. It's silly Halloween and superstitious nonsense… until it isn't.

Due to Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and the Aerialbots constantly monitoring the perimeter or setting traps that are becoming more elaborate each week, it's becoming a new running joke. It's the Autobot snipe-hunting. All because of Jack's devoted drawings of strange, contorted creatures.

They're adamant that something is outside.

(They’re right).

An eerie thing begins to appear at the nearby dunes by the Ark’s entrance. It’s vaguely canine and its size is constantly changing. They can smell a wildfire in the air and taste ash upon their tongues as it beckons them to follow with a heavy, burning gaze. 

Before anyone follows, a racket of shrieking blackbirds breaks them out of the trance. When the piercing noise fails, then a nasty peck to some skin or exposed protoform is enough to bring them back to their senses.

“It’s looking for something that can’t be regained,” Jack speaks with a keenness beyond his age and a lilting cadence. A flurry of pictures of the same dark canine by a campfire with multiple individuals and groups sitting by it. It remains unchanged, despite the others’ fashions and vehicles it managed to beckon to it. “Don’t be taken by its ancient sorrow. You won’t escape its grasp.”

Between the space of desert and forest, there’s an old barbwire fence and a seemingly endless dusty dirt road that has never been updated to proper asphalt, despite its existence for over a century and all the grumbles and complaints by humans and Cybertronians.

When it rains, a phantom of a massive stag appears. Dark and regal, it gently trods along the path, always towards the forest, never in the opposite direction. Perched upon its twisted antlers is an owl with multiple wings, spread out and spotted with many painted eyes, a feathered and watchful halo with a cry that echoes in everyone’s ears and audials. It leaves no tracks, just deep puddles with flickering shapes in its vast depths that immediately dry when people look away.

The mechs start to understand that the local humans’ grumblings and complaints are half-hearted, and when it starts to drizzle, everyone stays inside. 

“It’s older than all those that vaguely remember its beginnings,” Jack murmurs to a window full of drawings in the condensation, sleepy in the colder weather as he curls in a heated seat. “Dreaming and wandering, yet always returning to the place that crowned it King.”

#ask #transformers #crossover #transformers g1 #transformer prime #g1 #tfp #jack darby #optimus prime #optimus #cybertronian biology #cybertronian culture #parental relationship #humanformers #humans into cybertronians #magic #creature #deaged #bluestreak #smokescreen #maccadam #My writing #love your local metal bird boy of a cryptid menace #old gods and ancient vows