#the cast in my series loves messing with us | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eustasskidagenda · 7 months

Text

anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3

Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!

☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character

WC : 3K

⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here

Usopp

CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex

(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.

"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.

He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar."

Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie."

Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body.

Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you.

His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works.

Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing.

"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock."

And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.

Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.

He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds.

Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven.

He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough.

He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him.

"You're alright? Can I keep going?"

A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…"

He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.

Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.

Sabo

CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)

Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.

"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile.

Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"

"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands.

"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.

Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good (and a god) when it comes to anticipation.

"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?"

He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?"

Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.

"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."

If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.

"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you. "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."

Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."

He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears.

And really clingy during the aftercare.

(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)

Ace

CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk

If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor.

Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.

In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with.

He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N"

He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy.

He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.

Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?"

"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers.

He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you.

Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.

When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.

"Fuck, you're amazing"

Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident.

He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul.

"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it.

"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth.

Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin.

Beautiful, really beautiful moans.

And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.

Shanks

CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing

Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless.

"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.

He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural.

"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.

And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.

Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue.

"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?"

He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease.

As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice."

Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure.

"Ride me, don't be lazy."

(So sassy.)

"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you.

He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?"

"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?"

Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?"

(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)

Mihawk

CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex

Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.

So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful.

Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them.

If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you.

He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out"

And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs.

Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.

And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.

After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin.

Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control.

While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain.

"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake.

"You're so pretty for me."

He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers.

And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.

1K notes · View notes

dixons-sunshine · 24 days

Text

The Archer's Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp takes a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.

Genre: Fluff, some angst.

Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.

Word count: 4.4k.

A/n: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It's my favourite thing in the whole world. However, I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he'd be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he'd be with someone he's been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he'd totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he's just getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Also, Carol is being a supportive queen in this because @celtic-crossbow's Blood Ties series has made me appreciate Carol more and made me realize that she would always be so supportive of someone who's pregnant. Anyways, I hope you like this!

(specially dedicated to @mydearestdaryl because we planned this fic in my comment section a while ago and I'm only getting to it now.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl!” you called out, trying to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up your side. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.

Barely one minute ago, you had strayed from Daryl's side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.

However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.

On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man who's body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.

A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person's grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.

“S'me! S'jus' me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight before you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one'a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab 'em in the head, alrigh'? S'the only way they drop dead.”

“What? I don't—”

“Dun' think 'bout it, peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain't alive. The news weren't lyin' to us 'bout the dead risin'. We got a real fucking problem on our hands now.”

Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl's truck. It would've been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.

Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren't escaping without a fight.

“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly, your knuckles started turning white.

“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment's notice. “Ya gotta stab 'em in the head as hard as ya can, alrigh'? Dun' think 'bout 'em bein' alive. These assholes ain't alive.”

“Don't worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I'm not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They're not touching me.”

“Atta girl,” he praised with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around the parking area.

As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver's seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.

You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn't wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.

Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing's skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.

“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky. “Please tell me the prick didn't get ya. No bites, scratches, nothin'.”

“I'm okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”

“Yeah, let's g—”

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.

“Y'all jus' gon' stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin' truck? I did not risk my life gettin' here jus' to watch y'all get eaten alive.”

Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “Wha' the fuck are ya even doin' here?!”

“Helpin' yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C'mon, let's go!”

Daryl didn't need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver's side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle's motorcycle. With all the chaos that unfolded, the two of you hadn't even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent and Daryl's crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you'd be able to wash them. And Daryl's crossbow would more than likely come in handy.

“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.

You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed wasn't human anymore. If you didn't kill it, it would've killed you. It would've killed—

Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if possible.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned. “Oh, god. S'somethin' wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”

“No! No, nothing's wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It's just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”

Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.

“S'okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon' be a bad mom. With everythin' goin' on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S'cause of it tha' ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they're here, I know yer gon' do yer absolute best to protect 'em.”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn't on your stomach over his hand. “I really hope so.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

One month had passed. One month since the dead started walking. One month since everything you knew got destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life turned upside down.

You sighed as you washed one of Daryl's jeans, subtly listening to the other women's conversation, the other women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the women in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods because of the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn't be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the impression, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer's girl, and you were pretty sure they didn't even know your actual name.

Most of the women didn't even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she talked to you. She offered you tips on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband's socks, and so much more. She was the only one who you'd felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, so even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you deeply appreciated her.

Without her, you probably would've snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you cherished the friendship you had formed with her.

The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness only reserved for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.

“Ya know all'a tha' washin' s'now ruined 'cause ya dropped it in mud, righ'?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.

You smiled and shrugged. “It's your jeans. I've never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer righ',” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin'.”

“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daryl sighed, fidgeting with his hands. “But tha' Shane prick demanded tha' I go on another hunt again fer some reason. I dun' know why, 'cause we have 'nough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out of the camp if I didn't go now. We can't leave. 'Specially not now.”

Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl's eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren't born yet. His little Peanut.

You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain't no tellin'. Walsh demanded tha' I find some venison, and tha' might take me a while. Dun' even know if there are any deer here.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, sunshine.”

With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.

They hadn't heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that's more than most could say about their own past relationships.

It was clear the two of you shared something special, and it was unfair to them that they couldn't find love like that. And with the world ending, they doubted that they ever would.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle's disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing he was there.

It seemed like baby Dixon noticed their father's absence, and they weren't happy about it. For the past three days, you hadn't managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again a few hours later, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew the contents of your stomach out, so nobody knew of your pregnancy yet.

And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus.

“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.

“It's what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How'd you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”

“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I'm not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”

“I can't,” you denied. “Then everyone will look at me like I'm carrying the plague and see me as just another liability. I can't have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”

“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”

“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”

Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I'll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”

“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly, worry lacing your tone.

“Don't worry, I won't tell him,” she reassured you. “I'll just tell him I'm feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn't corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he'll believe it.”

You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”

She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days, that didn't work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he'd be extremely mad if you did.

No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he'd be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you'd spiral into an abyss you didn't want to go down.

The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.

“Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile.

“It's okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.

“What's your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you didn't like.

“My story?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What's a pretty girl like yourself doing with a lowlife nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the redneck. Why?”

“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.

“Bullshit. There's gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There's no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what's he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”

Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane's deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane's nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.

“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”

Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane's eyes, something unusual for the for the man. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.

“Listen'a me real fuckin' close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun' care wha' ya say 'bout me, but if ya ever talk 'bout my pregnant wife like tha' again, I'll do so much worse than jus' break yer nose. Ya dun' talk to her, ya dun' look at her, ya dun' even breathe the same fuckin' air as her. If ya do, I'll skin ya alive and feed the remainin' pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.

“Yer venison's on the table. Next time, go hunt fer it yer fuckin' self.”

Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol's hold and took Daryl's hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn't even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.

Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles while the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he'd never act like that around you ever again, but Shane made him break that promise.

“I'm not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”

“M'sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S'jus'... Hearin' the way he talked 'bout ya, like ya were some object who's worth he could judge... I dun' know. It made me pissed. Ya dun' deserve to be treated like tha'. 'Specially not when yer carryin' a baby in yer belly. Speakin' of, m'sorry I revealed yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep tha' hidden.”

You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It's okay. They would've found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin' one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut's gon' have one hell of a mama.”

“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling. “Love ya too, Peanut.”

The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.

“Y/n?” she called out. “I've got that ginger tea I promised you.”

“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.

“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. Seems like Baby Dixon doesn't like when their daddy's not here.”

“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won't mind if I stick 'round.”

“Hm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a slight giggle. “I guess I'll keep you around.”

“Tha's real good to hear.”

Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother in law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.

“When the fuck were ya plannin' on tellin' me ya got yer whore pregnant?”

Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother's words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus' say, Merle?!”

“Ya heard me, boy.”

God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.

Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.

669 notes · View notes

the-black-parade-system · 4 months

Note

hi can u do a walker scobell x reader fic of u meeting the percy jackson cast as his gf for the first time thank uuuu!!

iPhone screen

Walker Scobell x gn!reader

Summary: It’s only walkers 5th day of filming for the Percy Jackson series and Leah, Aryan, Charlie, and Dior find out he has a partner through his iPhone wallpaper.

Warning(s): different povs

A/N: Thank you so much for the request love! If there’s anything I can fix please lmk <33 also the italics were being really mean to me so sorry if those are messed up.

Walkers pov

It was my fifth day on set, and it was going pretty normal. I was sitting in a chair off set scrolling on my phone next to Leah and Aryan since it was our break. Leah looked up from her phone and looked over at me.

“Hey Walker?” She smiled and cocked her head a little, I looked up from my phone and over at Leah.

“yeah?” I look at Leah who is staring at my phone where my lock screen is showing.

“who’s that on your lock screen?” She asked with a slight giggle causing Aryan to look up. I proudly held up my phone showing off my lock screen which had a picture of my partner, Y/N, on it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my partner Y/N!” I proudly said as I watch Leah and Aryans mouths gape open.

“Your dating someone?” Aryan said while on the edge of his seat, so was Leah. I gave a nod and pulled up a picture of us when we had went to Universal Studios for their 15th birthday and proudly showed the picture.

“Well why haven’t we met them?!” Leah exclaimed with a smile plastered on her and Aryans faces. Aryan spoke up.

“you should totally bring them to set tomorrow walk,” Aryan said as he straightened out his posture in his seat. I thought for a moment.

“Will Rick allow it? I hope I’m not pissing off the producers if I do that.” I shrugged and put my elbow onto the arm rest of the plastic chair. Aryan looked over at Leah.

“I’m sure he will. I brought my best friend on set that one time.” Leah said, “Why are they like annoying?” She asked, I don’t think she was trying to be mean with that. At least I hope.

“No! They’re really chill.” I said with a smile and looked at the picture I had pulled up on my phone and smiled a little more.

“Then bring them! I’d love to meet them!” Leah said as Aryan nodded in agreement. I gave a nod in response.

“I’ll bring them then.”

Later that night, around 12am I guess, I texted Y/N while I was lying in bed.

You: “Heeeyy sweetheart?”

My love<3: “yeeees?”

You: “would u wanna come to set tmrw? My friends wanna meet you :)”

My love<3: “uhh lemme check with my mom.”

You: “kk”

My love<3: “she said it was fine as long as I can get a ride :)”

You: “sure! Me n my dad will come get ya tmrw morning.”

My love<3: “What time?”

You: “Around 8:30”

My love<3: “that works for me. Night ilysm!”

You: “gn hon, ilyttt”

Your pov

The next morning I had to get up around 7:00 which kind of sucked. I threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants and brushed my teeth, combed my hair etcetera, etcetera. I waited at my front door for Walker to show up like a dog waiting for its owner to get home from work. I hummed a bit before seeing his dad’s car pull up and I immediately opened my front door and ran out.

“Walker!” I called out excitedly at the smiling face I was so used to seeing as I ran to the car that was sitting in my driveway.

“Y/N!” Walker called back, he rolled down the window to the passenger seat and looked at me. “Hello my dear.” He said dramatically and kissed me. I smiled and opened the door to the backseat.

“Hey walk,” I smiled and waved at Pete, walkers dad. “Hi Mr. Scobell.” He gave a wave and a tired smile, which made sense, it was 8:00am.

We got to set in around a 30 minutes, which wasn’t too bad. But the set was..intimidating. It was huge and already had cameras everywhere and a big parking lot. Walker looked at me through the rearview mirror with a smile.

“You nervous?” He giggled. I nodded “A little.” I said even though my hands were shaking. “you don’t have to be nervous, everyone is really nice.” He said, “And they’re all really excited to meet you.” That made me calm down a little, I mean, remembering Walker would be with me made everything better. Me and Walker hopped out of the car and started to walk to Walkers trailer where he introduced me to his makeup artist and his hair stylist. He was sat down in the chair where they did his hair and makeup and I sat in the chair next to him. Then Aryan walked through.

“Hey walk- oh, hi!” He waved at me, “Are you Y/N?” He paused walking for a little to talk to me, never knew I was that interesting.

“oh, yeah. I’m walkers partner.” I shook his hand and he had a big smile on his face. “cool! Nice to meet ya!” He said with a handsome smile on his face and walked off

“see you later!”

Walker perked up, “That’s Aryan, Leah should be here soon cuz she’s always late.” He laughed as I saw Leah walk through. She was even prettier in person. ”Am not!” She playfully punched walkers shoulder lightly as she had a smile abroad her face. “I’m Leah, I’m guessing your Y/N?” She asked and shook my hand

I gave a nod “Nice to meet you!” I said. She let go of my hand and replied with a small laugh. “Lovely to meet you too! See you two later.” She walked off to her trailer and Walker looked at me with an ear-to-ear grin on his face.

“I think you’re gonna have a good time on set today.”

“Me too, Walk, me too.”

#walker scobell x reader #walker scobell #walker scobell fluff #walker scobell pjo #Walker scobell x y/n

671 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 10 months

Note

grid kids : y/n having super bad periods like bedridden and seb try’s to tell the boys they can’t visit and they go into full like code red crisis mode

Grid Kids: The Best Medicine

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids do everything they can think of to make you feel better

Series Masterlist

Max enters the room gingerly, holding a steaming mug of herbal tea. “I googled it,” he whispers to Charles, who’s setting up a little essential oil diffuser on the bedside table. “This should help.”

Charles nods, looking at the variety of oils he’s brought. “Lavender for relaxation,” he explains.

From the other side of the room, Lando and George carry in an enormous heating pad. “This helped my sister,” Lando mutters, plugging it in, while George adjusts the settings.

Lance, a bit out of his depth but wanting to contribute, tentatively offers a stack of magazines and books. “For ... distractions?”

Mick, who’s been quietly observing, pulls out a small speaker from his bag. “How about some calming music? Always helps to set a soothing environment.”

While this orchestrated chaos unfolds, you, despite your pain, can’t help but be touched by the outpouring of care and concern. You try to sit up but the discomfort is evident.

“Hey,” Sebastian gently admonishes, propping you up with more pillows, “Let them fuss over you. They want to.”

As evening falls, the room is transformed into a comforting sanctuary. The soft glow from fairy lights, the gentle hum of calming tunes, and the subtle scent of lavender fills the room.

Feeling a bit better from all the care, you whisper, “Thank you, boys. But you don’t have to stick around, you know.”

Lando pulls a funny face, “And miss out on a sleepover? No way.”

One by one, the grid kids, following Lando’s lead, find a comfy spot on your enormous bed, cocooning you protectively in the center. Some snuggled at the foot, some propped against the headboard, and others squished in the middle.

With the soft chirping of crickets outside and the rhythmic breathing of your sons on all sides, you drift into a peaceful sleep, pain momentarily forgotten in favor of burrowing deeper into the love and warmth surrounding you.

***

The morning sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. you stir, the pain still present but noticeably diminished. As your eyes flutter open, you’re greeted by the endearing sight of the grid kids sprawled all around you, each in varying poses of sleep.

Sebastian, having given up his spot on the bed last night, is asleep in the armchair, a book resting on his chest. George and Lando, squished up at the foot of the bed, are tangled in a mess of limbs, while Charles seems to have created a makeshift fort for himself with every pillow he could find.

The aroma of breakfast wafts into the room, pulling you from your thoughts. Mick, having woken up earlier, stands in the doorway with a tray. “Morning! Thought you might be hungry,” he says, a smile touching his lips.

“Oh, Mick,” you murmur, touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to.”

He sets the tray on your lap, revealing a spread of toast with bacon and eggs, fresh fruit, and some yogurt. “We all pitched in. Well, mostly Max and Lance. They seem to think they’re on MasterChef or something.”

Laughter ripples through the room as the others start to wake, each stretching and yawning. Max, rubbing his eyes, adds, “Hey, those scrambled eggs were a work of art!”

Lance chimes in, “Don’t forget about the smoothie. That was my masterpiece.”

George, trying to subtly smooth out his bed head, quirks a brow. “If we’re being all domestic, how about a spa day? Right here, right now.”

Charles, still nestled in his pillow fort, chuckles. “In this room? With all of us? I’m sure that will end well.”

Max’s eyes light up, “I’m in! But only if someone does that cucumber thing on my eyes.”

Mick grins, “You mean a cucumber facial? I’ve got you covered.” He dashes out, only to return moments later with a stash of beauty products. “My sister left these the last time she visited. We’ve got masks, scrubs, the works!”

Amused and touched by the turn of events, you announce, “Alright then, let the spa day commence!”

Sebastian, skeptical but game, adds, “I’ve never had a mani-pedi before.”

Lando winks, “There’s a first time for everything, Seb. Give me your hands.”

As Lando starts on Sebastian while Lance gets to work on making more of his famed smoothies for everyone. Meanwhile, George and Charles, having taken over the facial department, start applying face masks, complete with cucumber slices for the eyes.

An hour later, the room is a delightful mess. Mick and Max have somehow managed to get more face mask on their shirts than on their faces. Lando’s meticulous nail painting skills are in high demand, and George is draped over the foot of the bed, a bright green face mask contrasting comically with his hair.

You, through bouts of laughter, look around at the delightful chaos. “Alright, time for the big question. Do you or do you not feel bonita?”

Lance, his fingers spread out to dry the bright pink nail polish Lando chose, grins. “I feel bonita.”

Charles, attempting to peel off his dried mask, replies with a dramatic flair, “I was born bonita but now? I’m radiant!”

Mick chimes in, “Can’t see through these cucumber slices but I’m pretty sure I’m the most bonita of all.”

The room fills with banter, laughter, and the gentle ribbing that only close friends and family can share. As the day turns into evening, the spa treatments wind down and the room settles into a comfortable quiet.

You, heart full, look around at the makeshift spa and the joy it brought. “Thank you, boys. Today was unexpected but absolutely perfect.”

Sebastian, his nails now adorned with a clear glossy finish, adds, “I think we should make this a tradition. Spa day before every race.”

Max raises his own freshly manicured hand. “All in favor?”

A chorus of “Ayes!” fills the room and so a new tradition was born.

1K notes · View notes

filmbyjy · 2 years

Text

BUSINESS PROPOSAL

PAIRING > park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis > being the amazing friend you were, you had helped your friend who desperately did not want to go on the blind date so you went as her. however, you were dumbfounded to find out that the CEO was your friend’s blind date! hopefully, he doesn’t recognise you.

GENRE > ceo au, staff!reader, fake dating au, girlboss reader because that’s how kim hari was in business proposal😌 hot CEO sunghoon (ahah but you must be asking why not secretary when there is a sunghoon in business proposal that was hot and kinky😏 well idk)

FEATURING > K from &team, yujin and wonyoung from ive, danielle from newjeans, harvey from XG and romin from e'last. of course the enhypen members too and if on occasions I may add new idols into the smau ^_^

WARNING > there isn't much warnings but like I FEEL BAD FOR MAKING MY LOVE FROM E'LAST AS MINWOO THE RED FLAG T_T

SCHEDULE > updated whenever I can…

TAGLIST > series has officially ended. thank you for joining this whole ride🫶🏻

START: 20 October 2022 | END: 12 February 2023

NOTE: 4th SMAU WOOOO. well technically there is only ‘jam out’ here…EHEM I’ll just exit🚪I know I’ve written in my original that the reader will be sunghoon’s secretary but I ultimately decided to stick to how the original ‘business proposal’ went. BUT I may make you the secretary maybe later on in the episodes😉 oh and I aged up everyone except jungwon and ni-ki bc I like the aspect of them being sunghoon’s bodyguards even though they are high schoolers😀

profile: CEO and his minions | cosmetic whores😛

prologue: the contrasts of friend groups

one: love hurts [written]

two: no head, no possay

three: damn😨

four: they are just friends

five: THATS AGAINST THE LAW

– placing this bc the previous read more messed up –

six: he just self inserted

seven: makeover montage😍😍

eight: LET YOUR TITS FREE🗣️🗣️

nine: who tf is harvard and one letter hyung?

ten: dave and juan🥺 [written + pictures]

eleven: tell us what you know old man👹

twelve: I wanna kick some shins😍😍

thirteen: curby

fourteen: snorting my sorrows away

fifteen: elavatoe

sixteen: plot hole once again

seventeen: sunoo finds out! [written]

eighteen: alpha female raptor

nineteen: FOR FREE???

twenty: grippers and snatchers

twenty-one: ZAYUM DADDAË

twenty-two: velociraptor speaks

twenty-three: happy birthday, here is a gift❤️

twenty-four: meeting the grandmother😵‍💫 [written]

twenty-five: the english to australian translator

twenty-six: love you too hyung🥰

twenty-seven: they’re dating…again

twenty-eight: hentai tentacles

twenty-nine: happy anniversary? [written]

thirty: she’s a fraud

thirty-one: let’s drink the night away!

thirty-two: christian minecraft server era

thirty-three: jay hyung male wife era

thirty-four: YOU KNEW HE KNEW??

thirty-five: SOUND THE ALARM

thirty-six: they flirting

thirty-seven: 3 step guide [written]

thirty-eight: the censored pic

thirty-nine: we good time👍🏻

fourty: kiss me [written]

fourty-one: post-kiss feelings??

fourty-two: paper work. what else?

fourty-three: failed secret dating

fourty-four: b-b-but :(

fourty-five: she’s a fighter [written]

fourty-six: how about…naur

fourty-seven: NO BUTS🧌 JUST GO

fourty-eight: that’s a pervert!

fourty-nine: the devil’s cha cha cha💃🏻🕺🏻

fifty: r.i.p that pus- [written]

special episodes!

baby name website

the many FaceTime sessions

youngmi and her little sibling

ask business proposal casts

author asks | business proposal cast

4K notes · View notes

dqrciedaily · 2 months

Text

baby arsenal pt.2, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: proper old arsenal photo oops

but i’m really enjoying this series so feel free to send some ideas or requests in x

this was also inspired by my hatred of math during gcses

after a tiresome day of training, gym sessions and still a team meeting to be had, y/n trudged wearily into the communal area of the shared living space. the weight of her school backpack felt heavier than usual, laden not only with textbooks but with the burden of many impending assignments.

with a dramatic sigh, she flopped onto one of the couch’s, her exhaustion noticeable as she buried her face in her hands. "i actually can't do this," she moaned, her voice muffled by her palms. "i just can't focus on schoolwork! especially after a day like today."

lia, who had just walked into the room after a physio session, glanced over at y/n with a sympathetic smile. "i know you don’t want to y/n/n, but i’m really not in the mood for another email from school," she said gently. "but you know you have to get it done. how about this? if you do as much of your homework as possible, you can decide what we have for dinner tonight."

"anything i want?"

lia nodded, her smile widening. "anything you want," she confirmed, but before she could continue leah walked into the room. “what’s going on?” she questioned setting down next to y/n. “wally said i get to pick what we’re having for dinner tonight!” y/n excitedly told the blonde as she took out the first assignment.

“uh no, i’m coming round for dinner tonight you better not pick something i don’t eat!” leah groaned but y/n paid little attention as she got started on her work.

her brow furrowed in concentration. but as she dived into the complexities of her math assignment, frustration quickly replaced her initial enthusiasm. the numbers swirled before her eyes, a jumbled mess of equations and formulas that refused to make sense no matter how hard she tried.

despite the best efforts of her teammates, who all tried to help her with either words of encouragement or even some attempts at explanations, y/n found herself sinking deeper into despair.

"it's actually no use," she muttered to no one in particular, her voice tinged with defeat. "i just don't understand maths. it’s stupid."

kyra who was sat on the couch opposite from y/n finally had enough of her complaining. “okay no i’ve had enough of hearing you moan and complain. stop moping about and let’s go annoy katie or something!”

with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, kyra led the charge out of the room, eager to abandon the maths assignment that had about three lines written down, y/n quickly followed kyra to the dining hall where the others were. but as they approached the dining room, their plans were abruptly halted by the arrival of kim, who cast a curious glance in y/n’s direction.

"hey, y/n/n, have you finished your homework yet?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

y/n shook her head sheepishly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "no, not yet," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

kim's expression softened with understanding. "it's okay," she reassured her, "but why don't you go work on something else for now? you can figure out the math later."

“oh but please just a few minutes of break we just wanted to ask katie a quick question” the puppy eyes deeming unsuccessful as kim’s expression didn’t change. “please kimmy.”

“fine. only a few minutes though!”

the duo shouted “thank you kimmy, we love you!” over their shoulders as they raced off to go bother katie.

upon their arrival in the dining room many heads turned but then turned back to their conversations. they spotted that caitlin had gotten up from her chair, leaving both seats next to katie vacant. they quickly occupied the chairs turning to face her, almost in unison.

“pineapples or blueberries?” they said in unison

“sorry what?”

#darcie’s drabbles #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader

337 notes · View notes

taylorswiftbutsimp · 21 days

Text

Unread Letters To The Emperor

Mini Series Masterlist

Emperor Blade (yingxing) x Empress Reader

Chapter One: To My Beloved Empress

Word count: 1675

Author’s note: Happy reading readers!

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Death, time-skips, Blade giving everyone a cold shoulder, fluff, angst and use of alcohol , talk of children, having a slight baby fever if you squint

The sheets were as cold and unwarming as always, and tonight was just like all the other evenings you've experienced.

Alone in a larger chamber than you had previously had, you failed to like it because the emperor had chosen the room's décor.

It's not because you didn't like it.

It seemed like a waste.

What a waste of hope that the emperor will cast a light between you two and talk about xianzhou and how he was raised over a cup of tea in the garden.

It was simply wishful thinking that an empress should not care about the affairs of the emperor and should only focus on her duties.

A waste since you couldn't curl up in his arms at night and mumble cutesy phrases like in the book you read. The life in the palace wasn't romantic and bright as in the novels; instead, it was a huge dark hole that swallowed your light so that you could become the puppeteer's next puppet.

A few months had passed since your marriage, but it felt like a year. Love in the palace was difficult, especially if it had never existed in the first place. Everything was a political game. When will you ever escape this pit of loneliness?

It was overwhelming.

It wouldn't hurt to take a stroll through the gardens instead of closing your eyes, would it? You got up and covered your thinly nightgown with a robe.

Not a single person could be seen in the corridor, and the moonlight passing the windows was the sole source of light.

You came to a stop there; the new portrait of you and the emperor was in the center of the stairway.

You can't deny that the two of you appeared desirable together, yet the very thought of it made your heart hurt.

"What are you doing?”

"I intended to stroll through the garden" you uttered, a slight scowl appearing on your lips.

Blade was silent for a short while, and even though you weren't sure if he was judging you, you still felt weak in his presence. He was tall and

When did he become so attractive?

"This late in the evening? with flimsy sleepwear?"

Your robe, which you use as a cover, became undone, revealing your chest and collarbone. Your cheeks burned scarlet, and you hastily covered it up again. The emperor watched in dismay as you panicked.

Blade replied in an impassive voice, "Don't cause any trouble; I don't like cleaning up messe” As he left, a strong smell of alcohol linger in the air.

Even though the smell was strong, he managed to walk and scold you, leading you to believe that he had a high tolerance for alcohol.

You might be able to adjust to this palace and loneliness.

———

Before you knew it, two years had gone by since you and the emperor were married, and during those two years as an empress, the public adored you.

Mostly, the mask you put on, along with the staged laughs and smiles you showed them, made it impossible for them to tell which side of you was fake or real since they never got to know you in the first place.

The longer this continued, the more you began to lose yourself in the high heels that blistered your feet, the fitted clothes you wore, and the diet you followed.

However, even though it hurts, a smile can make up for the emperor's ignorance and the mountain of papers at your office.

As an empress, it was expected of you to be flawless, pretending about everything until the point where you lose the last bit of your sanity that has kept you this far.

Sometimes you cry yourself to sleep until you can no longer cry, considering you're drained. Other nights, you sit up late writing in a diary to remind yourself that you're still alive.

Just like now, the celebration did not feel like it was one, even though everyone brought gifts and expressed congratulations to the empress and emperor on their milestones, to which you could only nod and smile.

If the emperor and empress were strangers to one another, what was there to feel happy about?

A waiter came up to you and offered you a glass of wine, which you eagerly accepted after you excused yourself from the guests you were now entertaining.

Blade saw you standing around five feet away from each other, staring at no one in particular, but he did manage to get a glimpse of your figure as you swirled the crimson liquid gently before taking a sip.

You committed a mistake there.

The wine, or should I say poisoned, had a strong effect on you. The glass broke on the floor, and your body fell like a feather, with blurry vision and struggling to breathe.

As everyone gasped and cried out for aid, you were on your dying breath, and your vision was fixed on the emperor, who was still; all you could do was stare at him with a single tear falling from your eye.

Did he really hate you that much?

———

The empress's death didn't concern Blade in Jing Yuan's eye. He watched as the emperor placed a white rose on your open casket, emotionless, hearing the people behind him crying and talking about on how your death was so sudden.

He waited for Blade in the corner hallway, ready to investigate.

“Jing yuan” blade spoke as he eyed the general; he didn't expect him to be here, especially at this time when the general gazed at the emperor.

"My condolences, your highness; have you found any witnesses?" Jing Yuan spoke loudly and clearly, and the emperor realized what it meant.

“What was the empress to you?”

“Does it matter general?” The emperor replied no hint of remorse

That was the only answer Jing Yuan needed to confirm his theory: he wasn't talking to the a friend; he knew he was talking to the emperor, who showed no symptoms of mourning.

For Jingyuan, everything fell into place. Did the emperor kill the empress? If so, why was he silent when you were dying?

Blade walked away from the general, uninterested in what he had to say. Everything has been chaotic since your passing, and it has only been three days. He passed by the half-covered portrayal of you and him.

The two of you looked exceptional together, he thought, staring at the opposite part, where your form was barely visible due to the curtains shutting and the portrait getting ready to be removed.

Why was everybody fond of you?

It was silent, his office door was open, and it was odd that no one could enter until he specifically said so. In truth, he was restless. When you were here, he had time to relax, even for a few minutes.

Dan Feng was positioned at the window of his office, glancing at the vase touching the flower as it wilted and lost its color.

"The empress did a good job taking care of the flowers, although they're starting to die” Dan Feng pondered, looking back at the emperor.

"Apologize for my intrusion, your highness. I came here to pass on my condolences"

"Leave"

The Vidyadhara withdrew before he could say what he had come for.

Blade sighed as he watched him go, wondering why it was that the mere mention of you set him off. His hand found its way to his hair, pulling his long locks through his finger. There had never been an issue when you were here.

———

He was told by his butler, "Your highness the empress left a diary and a few letters attached to the pages; it might be valuable." He accepted the item and left to give the emperor privacy.

He never imagined you kept a journal like this. As he traced the patterns on the cover, he noticed how cold it was and wondered if your warmth would help.

It was strange; the maids were nowhere to be seen, and the gardener you were close to failed to maintain the herbs and rows of roses you enjoyed.

The entries were like any other diary—a brief rumble about your day and things you found hysterical. Blade found himself half smiling and felt like he knew you after reading the first few pages.

— entry 25

"I'm getting married. Will I do okay? I need to be ideal so that the emperor would acknowledge me.

— entry 32

The palace was not for the kindhearted; my feet ached from the blisters on my heels, my clothing was too tight, and I missed eating sweets, but I have to maintain a diet for the emperor.

— entry 44

I went to an orphanage today. Everyone was thrilled to see me. The children's laughter was like music to my ears, and their lovely thank-yous were all I needed to hear.

I want to be near you, Emperor, and for the daughter we won't raise, she will wait for your care—the son you never sought.

—

Reading the empress journal was an emotional rollercoaster. Why would you keep this to him? Your fears, insecurities, and concerns

He couldn't stand the guilt; it was eating him alive. Why didn't he move when you were dying? With your begging eyes, you looked for him even as you died.

It was the first and last time he witnessed your tears.

How can he cast a light between you two if he is the shadow of your light?

Yingxing was an emperor who mastered the art of swords, from crafting them to wielding them. He knew that changing the past would affect the future, and he knew who could help him.

His darling empress, he vowed to change for the better even if you did not end up in his arms at the end of the day, seeing you alive.

It was all he needed, and it was worth it.

"Prepare a boat; I want to visit the high elder now" His voice was commanding enough to make his long-time butler shudder.

#ᗯiᒪᒪoᗯ #hsr x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #emperor blade #jing yuan x reader #yingxing x reader

301 notes · View notes

coralinnii · 1 year

Text

I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Azul genre: drama note: continuation of reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy AU Azul ver, not gender specific reader, no pronouns used, use of non-canon characters (Neveah), 1.4k word count

I know people wanted to see more of the female and male lead’s downfall but Azul’s story has so much potential for drama that I just can’t skip it. This is more of an interaction between villain/ess!reader and the female lead and things are getting interesting. There’s more to the story

Is it funny that the more I write Azul’s villain/ess!reader, the more they’re starting to be like how I think Jade would act…just sassier

You became the talk of the kingdom for quite some time and you weren’t surprised. You had your engagement annulled and disowned from your family but you managed to disgrace your former fiancé the prince and his lover with their affair. Instead of a fallen noble, you became a surviving noble who became a victim of unfaithful love. All according to your plan.

Free from your downfall, you find yourself living in comfort in your own house close to Azul. The royal family and your own parents have requested your attendance but you declined their letters, playing your victim card to the fullest.

“Oh no, how could I possibly return back to the palace where I had my heart broken?” “My family disowned me. The least I could do is respect their wishes” Good riddance to that stifling environment.

You did notice that you never once received a letter from the young prince, the male lead though you would scoff and burn it if he did anyway. You figured that he was too prideful to address the affair with you. He wasn’t regretful for his actions nor was he regretful he got caught. The original series seriously had a bad cast.

Though it could also be that since the disgraceful act the male lead was sentenced to house arrest to “reflect on his actions”. From your sources, he’s just been angry all this time, especially when he hasn’t been able to meet with his beloved.

Speaking of which, the female lead has been busy through all this fiasco. Crying and spinning the tale of how she was a helpless victim in this mess as well, saying how she was clueless throughout everything since being so new to the noble society.

Please, Jade has better acting skills than she does. You supposed you could commend her for her guts.

Like how she was gutsy enough to visit you in your own home.

“I’m so glad you’re willing to meet with me” Neveah smiled but you didn’t return the smile, choosing to sip your tea.

“You should be glad, considering I probably would have ignored you” you replied indifferently. “It just so happens that I wanted to ask you a few questions”

“Oh? What kind of questions?~” That exaggerated childlike tone of hers really rubbed you the wrong way.

Fighting through your irritation, you questioned her “I’ve heard that you’ve been attempting to meet with Azul for the past few days. Curious since you two aren’t even acquaintances”

“But, we are! Me and Azul are really close~”

“That’s not what Azul says, and you will address him as Count Ashengrotto” you rebuked her claim, a little snippier than you wished but your patience is not unlimited and the ditzy lady is truly testing you.

Azul mentioned his troubles to you when you asked about the visible stress on his face. Apparently he has unfortunately been bumping into the female lead at his businesses and she has been trying to interact with him, even offering to have tea with her…in his own restaurant.

“Tricking her would be akin to taking candy from a child, but even a child is more worthwhile than speaking with her” Azul sighed in aggravation with his brows furrowed. You kept a sympathetic expression but you felt a sense of joy over the silvernette’s words. There’s nothing wrong in secretly taking glee in your crush sharing your disdain over the same irritance, right?

“Perhaps you should take a short rest, Azul” you suggested, “This stress will do you no good and you can’t afford to make mistakes due to your clouded mind”

Azul sighed but nodded “you may have a point”

“Would you like to rest on my lap? I wouldn’t mind after all”

“You-!”

Refocusing your attention away from your memories, you sharpened your gaze at your uninvited guest. “Considering Azul is someone dear to me, I worry about your intentions in approaching him”

Then, the situation took an interesting turn.

The young lady in front of you, undeterred from your stare, smiled brightly which some could compare to something angelic…to some. But her words did not match her innocent appearance.

“Are you worried that I would approach Azul the way you did?”

You didn’t break your expression but you must admit you were close to. Is she insinuating…

“Isn’t it weird that the famously lovesick fiancé of the prince suddenly changed?” Neveah questioned, putting on a confused pout on her lips. “No explanations, like a whole new person. The story has changed”

Oh, how interesting.

“So you’re interested in me” you finally smiled back “What can I say, I realized one day this was not my love story so I decided to change my ways”

“Is that so?~”

“Yes. But back to the topic,” you took control back of the conversation “You haven’t explained your reason for approaching the count?”

Whatever calculating look you thought you saw in the female lead disappeared as she smiled even brighter than before, fully committing to her innocent appearance.

“I just felt so bad in interfering with your engagement that I’ve been avoiding the prince in respect for you, not even replying to his letters. Then maybe you can reinstate your engagement with your beloved”

My beloved? You truly had difficulty not outright laughing out loud over that idea. But it was an interesting tidbit the female lead gave, knowing that the prince has been sending her letters meant that those two are still in contact. Just because she said she doesn’t reply, she could still be reading them.

“I’ve been trying really hard to forget the prince so I’ve been visiting the Monstro Lounge to get away” she continued her story, managing a tear from her eyes. “And I’ve been seeing the count there so I thought we could be friends”

So this is how she’s been fooling the masses. You’re willing to admit that she’s definitely a better actress than you initially give her with her sweet words and unassuming “innocence”. But you knew the story she conveniently left out.

Breaking the engagement between the royal family and your (ex)family of duke status, the male lead has been in hot water ever since as his reputation has affected him to the point that his right to the throne is in jeopardy. Azul on the other hand has been making a name for himself and his value in the kingdom is very attractive to many pursuers.

“How shamelessly greedy of you, Ms. Protagonist” you smirked at the female lead who continues to put on a sweet facade, you commend her ambitions at least. She really wants her happy ending.

But you’re done with this conversation already. You got your answers and have no interest in keeping company with this eyesore for any longer.

“That’s all I need to hear, I believe it’s time for you to leave” With that, you waved to your guards who were standing by to escort the lady to the door.

“Wait, then will you take the prince back? And convince the families to restore the engagement” Neveah quickly asked you before she was ushered. Ah, so that’s why she came to see you. You never did bother to ask…or care.

“Firstly, I don’t have the habit of picking up trash I already tossed out” you calmly stood up from your seat, smoothing down your clothes of creases, and gave a smile towards the female lead before speaking again “Secondly, I’m simply respecting what you said to me. Do you remember? You couldn’t stop from loving who you want”

You watched Neveah stutter and stumble, trying to find the right words but you weren’t interested anymore so you proceeded to leave the room first with some parting words before your guards walk the female lead out of your home.

“I’m letting you love the prince like you said you wanted, and I’ll love who I want, and I intend to fight”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #villainess au #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

1K notes · View notes

saerins · 3 months

Text

PREV: #002 PLAYING DOMINO 𖧧 #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 NEXT: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — ever since the first meeting, you’ve proven to be an anomaly. and yet again, sae finds himself out of character, doing things he didn’t think he would.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. angst/fluff, profanity, physical/verbal abuse, violence, mentions of infidelity, broken homes, unrequited love, manipulation/gaslighting. word count: 6.7k

༝༚༝༚ more yn and sae for this chapter yay !! ty to all of you who are reading this heh mwah you guys are my motivation <3 let’s hope i keep this pace up so some of you can get the tea faster :p

somehow, the fact that you’d managed to help land an interview with itoshi sae has given you some perks at work. (you’d let sumi take the credit for it, but considering your voice is on the recording, it was hard to deny your involvement.) the best of it all? sumi’s right; mr tatsuji is so absolutely pleased that he barely bothers to visit your department to chide any of you.

that way, at least if your personal life is a mess, your career is not. (for now.)

after three days of staying over at eita’s, you’re finally lugging your feet back home today. besides, he has a date and you’re not about to play third wheel when he inevitably comes home with her.

that’s otoya eita for you.

he insisted that it’s fine and if he really wanted to get some that he’d bring her to a hotel, but you’d really rather not get used to putting up at someone else’s house. especially when, technically, you do have a place to stay.

as you unwillingly (and slowly, painachingly) trudge back to your apartment, you can’t help but revisit your messages with sae. ever since you told him you’d let him follow you if he made a private account, he hasn’t responded since.

were you just in over your head? maybe he was just bored and was passing time by texting you. maybe he didn’t really mean it. maybe someone else took his phone and texted you just to make fun of you.

time to time, you still think of the night you met, how his eyes fluttered close, how he stayed rooted in position, how you would’ve actually done it out of curiosity if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a public place with cameras littering every few inches of space.

you sigh, locking your phone and tossing it back in your purse. in the end, maybe itoshi sae really is just someone for you to admire from afar. maybe that’s for the best; you can’t imagine how it’d even feel like dating someone who has such a big spotlight cast on him.

the evening air is chilly, the lights of the nearby shopping mall a warm golden, the sea of people walking past you soon to drown out. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re living a privileged life—being able to live in such a nice district, with a better-than-average apartment that had been fully paid for since you were born. and if life had been kind to you, then maybe you’d like living at home more than you do now.

but as it is, going home only serves as a reminder to all your problems. unescapable, unavoidable, unbearable. and maybe it’s not such a good move for you to depend on eita a lot to be your escape, to help you forget about all of it, at least when you’re with him, but you can’t help it. escapism feels nice. it’s nice to be around someone who knows about it and still accepts you, even though you and him don’t see eye to eye about it most of the time.

your stomach’s growling, and the macarons at the bakery’s display that you walk past are both nostalgic and tempting. but you can’t afford that.

something as simple as a box of macarons.

hang in there for the long term, you tell yourself. one day, you’ll get everything back.

not ten minutes later, you’re at your own doorstep, hesitating to even enter. through the door you can hear the sound of the television. it’s loud and playing some drama that always airs at this timing. you’ve heard the same voices so many times before.

it’s funny to think that these sounds used to feel like home to you.

either way, you have to get this over and done with, so you slot your key in and walk through the door, carefully toeing off your shoes as though being quiet would make you escape her notice.

“and where did you go off to the last few days? can’t even come home and be a dutiful daughter and eat with her own mother?”

it hasn’t even been five seconds.

all that ever awaits you at home now is the vile spit of your mother’s. it’s laughable because all she says is nonsense. you haven’t eaten on the same table together in years, even if you have been living under the same roof.

some part of you can’t help but be defiant. you know it’s a bad idea, but she’s out of line, and yet you’re still helping her. and you can’t figure out why.

“how about you be a dutiful mother and stop spending all your daughter’s money and go find a job?”

there’s a sharp sound that bounces off the walls of the living room quicker than you can expect it, and it takes you five seconds and the sting on your cheek to realise your mother had just slapped you with all her might.

not an ounce of hesitation or regret. there is only fury in her eyes as she looks down at you, summoning every bit of disdain she can muster.

of course, how could you forget? this is what you get for talking back to her. it’s been a while since she’d last laid a hand on you, so maybe you’d gotten cocky, thinking she wouldn’t do it again.

“is this all you’re good for? you’re not using that filthy mouth to jack people off so you’re using it to spite me?”

there’s a lot you want to say.

you want to talk back to her again, to say that she’s the useless one out of the two of you. the one who doesn’t work yet gambles all day. the one who spent all the savings and insurance money so she’s fully depending on you month to month.

you want to tell her that you’re not some whore who goes around fucking everyone you see. she always hated eita, but that’s because he knows she’s no good. that’s also why you never tell him if she lays her hand on you. you don’t want to get them into any altercations. you also want to tell her eita’s taken better care of you than she ever has, and you don’t even have to jack him off for it.

but you stay silent.

because silence is the most comfortable you can get with her. no matter what you say or do, it will never suffice for her. she wants money, and she’s only angry because you haven’t been home to give it to her. it’s why you lock your own door every time you head out or go to sleep. you don’t want to find your own belongings gone by the time you’re back. neither do you want to find her snooping around your room in the middle of the night.

both of which have happened before.

taking advantage of your shock, she yanks your purse out of your hand, fishing for your wallet and grabbing all the cash she can find before tossing it back to you.

there’s no mercy in her eyes as she glares at her own daughter, the one she carried herself in her womb for nine whole months and once sworn to love. and now she blames the same little girl for ruining her body and refuses to take responsibility for her.

“listen, be a good girl and just give me what i ask for okay?” her tone is nothing but condescending and threatening. “if you’d just behave yourself, i wouldn’t have to do shit like that. think a little, would you?”

the demon that is your mother speaks as if you’re in the wrong, sighing to herself as she lights a cigarette and walks away, stuffing your hard-earned money in her purse before making for her room and slamming the door as she completely disposes of you for the day. she already got what she wanted, after all.

utterly defeated, you completely forget about your hunger, retreating into your room, locking the door behind you and falling to the floor. your vision blurs and your cheek still stings. you wonder if it’ll leave a mark like it did the last time.

your phone vibrates once.

blurry vision aside, you can tell it’s eita from the name alone. his talk to me if you need anything, okay? is bright on your phone screen, the only light in this room because you don’t have the energy to turn on the lights. you’re not feeling exceptionally hopeful today. the dark seems just right.

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him. you probably don’t deserve how nice he is to you. but you don’t want to talk to him. you don’t think you want to talk to anyone.

maybe just one person.

but he’s six foot under and inaccessible to you.

you’re not sure when you made it onto your bed—your head’s a mess. it always is when you speak to her. that’s why you scream into the pillow, willing your energy away, trying to drown your thoughts with your voice, dreaming of the day you can break free from this cycle.

thunder, pitter patter, raindrops against the windowsill.

the lightning helps you make out the time from the clock on the wall above your door.

1am. your lips are chapped and the tears are dry against your cheeks. you’d subconsciously slept on the right side, your left still aching from earlier.

slowly, you get up, legs crossed and sitting on your bed, your earlier distress dissipated just slightly, mind a little clearer. (and always questionable.) your phone’s dead and you honestly don’t really care—what you do care about is your stomach’s incessant growling.

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that your mother cleared out all the food in the kitchen. it looked barren earlier from what you could see, maybe just a couple slices of bread and some condiments. you wouldn’t want to start cooking in the middle of the night either, lest she wakes up and you have even more to deal with.

the rain starts to lighten up by the time you’re out of the house, comfortable in your oversized windbreaker. you walk slowly, your slides already soaked from walking in the rain. it’s a nice cooling temperature, the wind in your face making you feel refreshed, like everything that’s horrible could be just a dream.

if only.

a light ten-minute walk later, you’re browsing through the aisles of the convenience store, wondering which brand of processed food is worthy to be your dinner. you hover between the cup noodles on the shelves and the sandwiches in the chiller, taking your time because home is not a place you’re exactly aching to go back to.

can you even call it a home at this point?

eventually, you waltz out of there with a warm tub of noodles, palms relishing in its warmth and your nose inhaling every last bit of its aroma.

dinner could be better, but you suppose you can’t complain when you’re trying your best to save up. after all, it’ll be a pain if your mother figures out the stash of savings you’re hiding. the last thing you want is for her to steal that away from you. then how would you ever move out on your own?

shaking your head as you settle down on a park bench on the opposite side of the road, you decide to throw those thoughts aside for now. it’s not a current problem that you need to mull over right now and destroy your mood. no, right now, what you need is just a peaceful night.

what’s past (earlier) is past.

even though it’s easier said than done when your tears start flowing one by one, and suddenly these noodles are saltier than you remember.

“sure you can’t come?”

sae looks at bianca through the passenger side window, her pout ever present. “nah, i’m tired. besides, if i oversleep who’s gonna drive you to the airport, huh?”

bianca grins at him, seemingly pacified. she reaches a hand into the car, perfectly manicured nails in full view before she clenches it into a fist, holding just a pinky out. “promise you’ll see me off tomorrow?”

there’s something between the lines that sae doesn’t get, nor is he sure he wants to. in all honesty, he’s not even sure why a promise is wanted here but he sticks out his pinky all the same anyway, because he’s pretty sure he won’t miss the alarm when it rings.

“yay, see you!”

“see you,” sae echoes as she bounds towards her friend’s place, ready for a last night of catching up over a game of cards before she flies back to america. as she disappears from his view, he wonders why she even tried to invite him in the first place. they’re her friends, he’s not really needed there anyway.

tuning out of those thoughts, sae drives off, already planning the remainder of the night. it’s 1am, and it’ll be near two by the time he makes it back to his apartment. that leaves him around a six hour sleep before he has to get up and send bianca off.

now that he’s thinking about it, since when has it become routine for him to send her off every time?

before he can even gather his thoughts about it, he steps on the brakes abruptly, wondering what the hell is wrong with some people to not be looking at both sides of the road before they cross, nearly pressing on the honk before something tells him not to. it’s distracting; the fact that the passing silhouette looks familiar and yet not at all.

against his better judgement, he pulls over by the side of the road, deciding to trust his gut. it’s late at night and there’s no reason for it but is that really you sitting on a park bench eating cup noodles past one in the morning? alone?

sae steps out of the car, mask on, pulling his hat down and his hoodie over his head to conceal himself, though some might argue he looks like he’s about to kidnap someone like this. he’s painfully aware this is dumb, and there’s no point to this, because what if it is you? it’s not like he has any reason to talk to you.

he stops midway, checking his phone and scrolling to your messages, his okay still sitting in the text box, unsent. fuck, he didn’t even realise until now. it didn’t help that he had a hectic schedule back to back for the past few days either. he never got around to creating that private account. he’ll just have to do it later.

a fleeting thought comes to him, wondering if you thought he was just pulling your leg about wanting to follow you. sure seems like it to him.

but he continues walking towards that park bench, towards that girl he thinks might be you, without knowing whatsoever what his next move will be. all he knows is that if that really is you, he’d rather say hello than say nothing at all.

even if it means making a detour that would undoubtedly make him endlessly tired the next day. for some reason.

and call him crazy, but as he draws closer, even without seeing your face, he knows it’s you somehow.

there’s something off about you, he doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can feel it. maybe he’ll find out. maybe he’ll try.

“hey, rude girl.”

just by the way your body stiffens up, he knows you recognise his voice. you choke on your noodles, coughing a little and rubbing your face before you whip your head upwards to face him, your eyes going wide with surprise.

“itoshi sae?”

why doesn’t he like it when you call him by his full name? it sounds weird, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“what are you doing here? do you live in the area?” you ask, setting your almost-empty cup of noodle on the bench. your voice is a little hoarse than he remembers, and your eyes are slightly puffy. there’s a faint swollenness on your left cheek, something he can see you’re desperately trying to hide behind your hair. it’s not really working.

he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pocket. “no, i was just dropping my friend off.” his eyes shift from you to the noodles. “supper?”

sae notices your eyebrow twitch ever so slightly, your nostrils flaring a little before you grin at him. “yeah, i missed lunch so this is me making up for it,” you giggle, offering a thumbs up.

is it bad to say he doesn’t believe you? you’re alone in the middle of the night on a park bench eating instant noodles with a slightly swollen cheek. yet you’re in front of him acting like nothing’s wrong.

this is already far from what he’d usually do. if you were anyone else, he would’ve just drove past and forgotten in a few days that he ever saw them. but as it is, here he is, standing in front of you, car parked illegally by the curb, just to verify that it really is you for no apparent reason.

still, he’s glad he did. you look like you’ve gotten a year’s worth of bad news judging by the state you’re in. and sae usually doesn’t cater to people, expects people to tell him what they need, not make him guess, but he’s already guessing what you might need.

your stomach is still growling, though you’re trying to hide it by slumping on the bench, arms over your stomach. sae has no idea why you feel like you have to hide, or who probably slapped you in the first place, but he finds himself disposing of your noodles before he’s grabbing you gently by the hand, tugging you along with him.

“hey, uh, where are we going?”

despite your shallow hesitation, sae feels your fingers curl around his palm. his heart skips a beat. he stops in his tracks, turning back around to face you. there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring inside him when he looks into your eyes.

his free hand comes up to remove his cap, putting it over your head and pushing it down to fit better. he doesn’t have a mask for you, but it’ll do. something tells him you don’t really want other people to see your face right now. and while the circumstances are different, he supposes he understands how it feels.

maybe you think he’s doing this because he’d rather not be papped with a girl, rather not have any more dating rumours. he’ll let you keep thinking that. he’ll keep acting like he doesn’t see the wound you’re desperately trying to hide.

for now.

“i’m hungry, eat with me,” is all he tells you before he resumes dragging you along behind him, calloused hands wrapping over your own.

sae’s not hungry in the least. he’d eaten probably three meals worth of food with bianca before this since she’d dragged him to a korean barbecue joint.

but you’re hungry. you’re starving and you’re not acting like it and you don’t say a thing about it—he doesn’t really get you.

he wants to.

maybe that’s why he’s doing all this. maybe that’s why he lets you in his car, drives to an izakaya he knows all too well. maybe that’s why he keeps stealing glances at you in the car, and maybe that’s why he feels a little warm inside when he catches you smiling to yourself.

as you sit silently beside him as he drives, your fingers fiddle nervously with each other. never did you think that you’d end up in sae’s luxurious car tonight of all nights. as if it wasn’t apparent enough before, after seeing his car, this definitely looks like a life that’s far beyond your reach.

you wonder if sae is the type of person who likes cars. it’s never indicated anywhere if he is. you recognise the brand; you don’t know the exact model but it’s a maserati, wrapped a matte black, at that. the interior leather seats are comfortable, and his air freshener smells nice.

on top of that, he’s driving you to someplace because he’s hungry too. talk about luck and coincidence.

you were thinking of just taking a short walk before going back home, but you’d take his invitation over that any day. you’re not sure where he’s taking you, but your feet are tapping in anticipation, though you hope it’s not anywhere expensive because you’re definitely not dressed the part.

beside you, sae’s not exactly dressed in anything fancy, but with looks like that? he would look expensive dressed in anything.

“quit staring,” sae mumbles, and you hurriedly avert your gaze, embarrassed at getting caught although you snicker a little when you catch the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “what are you laughing at?”

you try to suppress a grin, biting on your lower lip. “you’re not as uncaring as the internet makes you seem,” you ponder out loud.

sae accepts your train of thought. he’s well aware that’s how he comes off in real life too. “and?” it’s a red light so he stops the car, turning his head to look straight at you.

is he asking you what you think of him?

you feel your heart skip a beat. he’s pretty, and he’s staring at you with those clear teal eyes of his and it makes you want to drown in them for some reason. he’s not as unfeeling as he comes across, and for him to bother taking you with him just to eat must mean you don’t fall into the category of people he finds to be just a waste of time.

you want to know what this is.

“i don’t know, you’re like a cat,” you shrug, reverting back to your unserious self. “but i’ll let you know again once i get to know you better, itoshi sae.”

he looks away, the green light barely seeping through his windows. he doesn’t understand. “if you even get that far, that is.” (he likes how you already assume you’ll get to know him more. are you looking to spend more time with him?)

you grin, making an internal bet with yourself. “just you wait,” you tell him, confident in your abilities. “i have a habit of growing on people.”

(sae chuckles internally, because he doesn’t doubt you. you already are.)

“are you sure this place is open?” you ask, discreetly tapping lightly on your cheeks, deciding that maybe you look just fine now. and it doesn’t seem like there’s a soul here anyway.

once sae parks his car into the lot, you take his cap off and look around, the sleek stand-alone three-storey building looking completely closed on the outside. there’s no other cars parked here—surely they’re not still open?

sae takes his keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. he looks nonchalant for the most part. “don’t worry, i know the owner, let’s go.”

you shrug to yourself, placing his cap neatly on the dashboard before getting up. he waits and observes as you get out of his car, making sure you’re beside him before he starts walking towards the restaurant. you notice him matching your pace, with you shamelessly adjusting it just to check.

before he enters through the doors, he looks at you, “there’s no one else around. just the owner’s nephew who’ll be cooking for us.”

the shopkeeper’s bell chimes as he makes his way inside, holding the door for you, and you wordlessly enter, even though you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that. is it because you look like a mess and he thought you’d care?

it’s cosy and warm inside, classical music filling the air, every table wiped spotlessly clean that they’re shining as the lights from the ceiling bounce off of their surfaces. there’s nobody you can see here, are they in the kitchen?

sae puts his fingers around your wrist this time, walking you through the restaurant, meandering expertly like he’s been here a thousand times. your eyes fall to his fingers; they’re gentle yet firm, and you’re only hoping he doesn’t realise how fast your pulse is right now.

in the end, you find yourself seated across from him on a tatami seating in a private room, browsing through the menus that are already placed on the table.

“order anything you want,” sae says, not looking up from his menu.

you hum in excitement as you start to really look at all the options you have. “oh? if you say it like that i’m not gonna hold back, you know,” you joke around, though sae doesn’t really sense it.

he just shrugs, “sure, go ahead.”

sae ends up regretting it though, not because you’re shamelessly spending a lot on his card, but because he finds out you’re the type to over-order. by the time the food is all cooked and sent to the table, sae’s eyebrows twitch, eyes flicking over across the room to look at you, grinning from ear to ear.

“both of you must be starved, huh?”

you look to the side, only now noticing the guy in the white chef’s coat that came to deliver the food. he has curly light brown hair, with eyes a shade or two darker. a grin is plastered on his face, and by the way sae speaks to him, it seems like they know each other quite a fair bit.

“oh, by the way, this is naruhaya,” sae introduces to you, and the guy holds his hand out for you to shake. “this is y/n.”

“nice to meet you!”

naruhaya’s beaming, a contrast to sae’s usual stoic expressions, but he’s back to small talk with the latter in a second. you leave them to it, until your ears perk up when he mentions a certain model’s name.

“hey, weren’t you with bianca earlier? where’s she?”

bianca—that name isn’t unfamiliar to you. after a crash course from sumi (because somehow she decided you need to know more gossip about itoshi sae after getting to know him in person), you had learned that she’s the model that sae is most rumoured to actually be with. and you’ve seen her from the pictures sumi shoved up your neck—she’s beautiful.

was she the friend he was dropping off earlier?

“meeting her other friends. anyway, sorry to keep you open.”

naruhaya waves it off with his hand. “it’s fine, i was gonna stay and try to whip up some new recipes anyway,” he says, before shooting you a knowing look. what exactly it means, you have zero idea. “i’ll leave you two to it, enjoy!”

once he leaves, you begin to dig in, lathering your meat with sauce, unashamedly inhaling your food because that earlier stint with your mother was entirely too much and you need to destress.

somehow, with sae being as nice as he is, you feel a teeny bit guilty for trying to dupe him into that interview. but you doubt that if you’d asked him normally that you would be here with him tonight so maybe there’s some merit in being reckless like that.

“what’re you smiling about now?” sae sighs, taking a piece of meat and putting it over his rice. “pleased that you’re getting a free meal or something?”

partly. but mostly, you’re pleased that you get alone time with him somehow. maybe it’s stupid, and maybe you sound like half of the female population in the country, but you can see why people ogle over him. if they got to know him like this, then you’d have no doubt that he’d manage to charm their pants off.

though, something tells you he doesn’t treat people like this often, let alone someone he barely knows.

“mhm,” you agree, shit-eating grin on your face because there’s no way you’re going to be so upfront about it. the last thing you want is to ruin a friendship when it’s barely started.

yeah, maybe that’s what you want—friendship. is it weird if you say that itoshi sae gives you the feeling that you can trust him? the last time someone made you feel that way was eita. but somehow, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t explain.

as you’re both digging in, you ask him whatever you’re curious about; how he got into soccer, what his life was like growing up, everything under the sun, only because he entertains you like he did that very first night.

“you ask a lot of questions, are you gonna ask me to get another interview approved or something?” he asks, deadpan as he slurps up the soba.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “no. i just want to know you.”

sae stills at your honesty, this being one of the rare times you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. thump, thump, thump—it’s weird how you make him so aware of his heartbeats when you’re with him. it’s weird how he feels the same way.

then, he sees a familiar sight, you reaching your hand out across the table, your pinky pointed towards him. “i promise you, no hidden agendas this time.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, hooking his pinky with yours before he knows it, the inexplicable emotions only growing by the second.

even though he’s curious about you too, something tells him that you won’t answer him seriously. not tonight. so he keeps it to himself. he’ll find a chance to ask you next time.

if there is a next time.

he’ll just have to make it happen.

halfway through the dinner, you have about a quarter of the food left and sae looks like he’s about to burst. he didn’t really look hungry to you, eating slowly all the way. you probably ate at least twice as much as he did.

“you sure you were hungry?”

“not anymore,” sae deflects, putting his chopsticks down. he looks at you, leaning back and staring at the leftovers in awe. he almost snorts from how dazed you look. “i’ll get naruhaya to pack these, wait here.”

“thanks,” you call after him, knowing just how much of a food coma you’re going to be in once you’re back home.

sae stares at his phone as he navigates through the corridors to find the kitchen; it’s already 2.30am. time passes really fast with you for some reason. usually it’s a bore to sit with people he barely knows, they normally can’t keep a conversation. either that or he doesn’t really click with them. (as evident in the many times he was put in the same room with friends of friends and all that was there is awkward silence and forced conversations.)

not you though.

you’ve always been interesting. you’re intriguing, and a little bit more daring than he’s used to. you’re not that shy, by what he could tell when you so effortlessly reached across the table and snapped a picture of the both of you eating, telling him you want to give him something to remember you by.

as if that’s your last meeting.

he looks at the picture in his photo album. a subtle smile tugs on his lips, and there’s a flutter in his heart that he can’t seem to ignore.

maybe he’s jumping the gun but… he thinks you could be worth any amount of sleep he’s going to lose.

naruhaya enters the private room alone, armed with takeaway boxes, and you smile sheepishly at him as he does. sae must be in the bathroom if he’s here alone.

“sorry, i think i ordered a little too much,” you apologise, rubbing the back of your head. “but it’s all really delicious, really.”

it really is. you’ve never had meat so tender before, and you’re almost sad thinking you’ll probably never get to eat this again. not with the price tag on it.

“relax, i believe you,” naruhaya hums as he carefully places the leftovers in boxes. “so, how’d you get to know sae? photoshoot?”

you narrow your gaze at him, pressing your lips into a faint smile. “if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you joke, before shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not a model. i’m just a friend of a friend.”

naruhaya blinks at you like he’s surprised. “whose?”

“eita. otoya eita. why?”

“oh, it’s nothing. just… surprised sae brought another girl here for once,” naruhaya laughs nervously, packing the boxes into a clear bag. “usually it’s either oliver and gang or, well, bianca. but i haven’t seen her here in a while, actually.”

you get the feeling that sae and bianca are really, really close.

“i think he just came here on a whim,” you brush it off. “we only met a week ago so i doubt you’ll see me here again anyway.”

naruhaya’s mouth forms an ‘o’, before it reverts back to that knowing smile again. both of you hear footsteps against the wooden floors of the izakaya, so naruhaya takes this chance to whisper in your ear.

“i think… you must be pretty special then, huh?”

before you can even ask him what he means by that, sae strolls through the door, oblivious to the earlier conversation, gaze pointed to you. “ready to go?”

you nod, taking the bags from naruhaya as sae escorts you out of there. “bye, naruhaya! i love your cooking!”

he laughs as you wave enthusiastically to him, and he winks at you right before sae turns around to look at him. “oi, sae, bring her over anytime, okay?” to which sae only waves it off, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever actually see naruhaya again.

“you keep those,” sae tells you after the both of you get into his car, referring to the takeaway boxes. he’d told naruhaya to give you some extra meat, just in case. if he remembered right, eita once said you have quite the appetite.

he pulls out of the parking lot after you give him your address, driving the speed limit all the way back. he’s honestly kind of tired, and he can see that you are too. won’t hurt to make it back a little quicker than you came.

“sure you don’t want some?”

“i’m fine, i’ll be busy for the next week or so anyway. i won’t even be home.”

there’s a hint of disappointment in your chest when you hear that, though you chide yourself for your wishful thinking. what makes you think you can run into a celebrity so easily anyway if he is in japan?

“oh, you’re gonna be away? try not to miss me.”

sae chuckles, softly, at the way you can be so unserious—it’s something you hear for the first time, and you feel the flutters in your heart going wild. there’s something about the way he looks so gentle like this, away from the cameras and the public eye that makes him so much more alluring than usual.

“i’ll try,” he says, though you know he’s just playing along.

usually, you don’t feel this type of way around people. you’ve never felt like this before so you can’t even think of ways to explain it. as you sit in the passenger seat, you can’t help but feel a certain attachment growing. it makes you think foolish things like i want to see you again and wonder about even sillier things like would you want to see me too?

but you’d never actually tell him that.

when your apartment comes into view, you grab at his cap on the dashboard, putting it on your head yourself this time, looking into the side mirror. “hm, think this looks better on me, what do you think?”

sae’s a little stunned at the sudden question. you have a way of making him exasperated—in all the good ways. “wanna keep it?” he’s guessing that’s where you’re headed. not that he minds.

“oooh, then maybe i get to sell it for a buttload of money. especially when i tell people it belonged to you,” you smirk, and sae finds himself wondering why your guard is up so high.

he starts driving a little slowly, starting to feel the reluctance brewing inside him. “it’s yours now, do whatever you want with it.” he knows you’re not actually going to sell it anyway. he might not have known you for long, but he thinks you’re not that kind of person.

he’ll bet on it.

you don’t say anymore about it, and he catches you with a blank stare straight ahead, aimed at your apartment.

does it have something to do with your family? was that why you were unhappy earlier?

sae can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you. but you snap back to your usual self before he can do anything about it.

“anyway! don’t worry about tonight, i won’t tell a soul that a superstar like you took a nobody like me out for a romantic supper in a private room,” you tell him, winking as you place your hands on the door handle, ready to go.

sae nearly laughs. “can’t you say thank you like a normal person?” because by now, the both of you are comfortable enough to understand that nothing is ever said in hostility. you take it as his banter.

somehow, your hand finds itself back onto your lap, and the words haven’t left your lips. there’s no music in the car, so it’s just you and sae and the air between you, a tension looming in the air that you can’t ignore. there’s just silence as you observe him from your position, your head inching closer, ever so slowly it feels like you’re not even moving at all. you can see how sae’s gaze flickers from your eyes to the tip of your nose and then to your lips, and you think of how he looks almost like he did that night when you got close to him.

except this time, you’re really tempted. you’re alone, just the both of you, and he’s been really nice and you’re really tempted to feel how soft those lips are and what he tastes like. but that’s too much, and yet somehow his eyes feel like they’re telling you different. would he mind?

your fingers pull the cap down from your head, covering both your faces as there’s barely any space between you now.

maybe just something tame.

in one swift motion, your lips press against his cheek, a hurried thank you rolling off your tongue before you bolt out of the car and back to your apartment, hoping that sae doesn’t think you’re a complete psycho for doing that.

back in the car, sae freezes in position even after you’ve long vanished from his sight. his heart’s still beating wildly in his chest and he wonders what the hell just happened.

and then he finds himself questioning when it could happen again.

why does he want it to happen again?

before he starts the drive back, he does three things.

one, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and creates that account he forgot about. two, he sends you a follow request because he doesn’t think he can handle this curiosity anymore. and three, he opens your messages, breathing shallow as he tries to make plans for the first time.

an hour later, after you’re showered and your heart has calmed down, you check your phone, charged to full now on your bedside table. there’s a few messages from sumi and eita that you missed since it had been dead since before you left the house, and then your heart skips a beat when you realise that sae’s name is there as well.

for the first time in a long time, you go to bed feeling like a giggly high school girl who’s been asked out by her crush. and for the first time in forever, sae receives your message and finds that he can’t sleep now—wondering why he felt so relieved to finally get a text back, and wondering what this frantic rush of his heart really means.

extras !

no, sae did not get up late to meet bianca the next day. he did look extremely tired though, which made her suspicious and ask why—sae did not reveal anything, just said he couldn’t sleep. partly true.

sae was right; if he’d asked yn about herself that night (particularly anything pertaining to her family), she wouldn’t have answered seriously. there’s a reason why she won’t so easily divulge her family issues & doesn’t want sae to know about it.

yn genuinely believes that sae did not notice anything off about her and that he honestly thought she was fine.

otoya did end up bringing his date to a hotel. after she fell asleep, otoya went out to the balcony to call yn and make sure she’s okay since she wasn’t responding.

yn’s mother knows that yn and otoya used to fuck (and still thinks they are), and that’s why she used her choice of words “jacking people off”. she has been treating yn like that for the past few years.

random fact #1: otoya used to purposely get yn in trouble all the time in school so that they could spend time in detention together. that’s how they started getting close.

random fact #2: sae has, in his head, considered being together with bianca before because the guys asked him about it.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk imagines #itoshi sae imagines #૪ aeri’s fics !

219 notes · View notes

vagabond-umlaut · 10 months

Text

two shots of ristretto, please!

One must have heard of espresso, but ristretto? No?

Well, translated to 'restricted' in Italian, ristretto is another version of espresso, but of a sweeter and more intense quality than the latter— though, you reckon, there's no entity in this world, sweeter and more intense than that white-haired, blue-eyed enigma-turned-menace of yours.

▸ yakuza heir! gojo satoru x uni classmate! fem! reader; TIMESKIP; dad! gojo satoru x mom! reader; FLUFF AND HUMOR GALORE; popularising the headcanon that gojo is so terrifyingly gojo for everyone, except his crush; the said crush's smart & not dense, for the first time in my stories; there is yakuza so there's a gun and there's a tiny bit of violence; brief appearance of utahime, shoko, suguru & nanami; POST-TIMESKIP: the most adorable twins ever, sachiko and sachiro, are back, with tons and tons of fluff!!!!!

▸ belongs to the series 'tang!' — same universe as the work 'every rose and its 'twin prickles'' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i know i described the reader to be smart and stuff, but the thing is: she is smart, of sorts, that is. and the post-timeskip portion is tooth-rottingly fluffy but not for satoru; sachiko & sachiro will never let their papa get some loving from their dearest mama... AND this is 4.4k wc long— idk how i wrote so freaking much! anyways, whatever it is–

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Gojo Satoru was born with three things.

His name.

His looks.

And, of course– the baggage certain to tag along with the above two.

Cup of coffee languishing in the frost of your ignorance, you lock gaze, the first time, with the famous infamous scion of the Gojo’s, an awfully stormy morning at the café your friend works at.

Said friend looks halfway on the path to sweet, sweet dreams, resting her head on folded arms on your table — smiling, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind the shell of her ear, and return to your sly spying on the group seated couple of feet away. You think you see Gojo look at you yet another time — it must be an error of your eye, you reckon, given how he's giving a sharp grin to the man across from him, in the very next instant.

Yeah, that's what it is. No one can possibly switch from shooting that level of thoughtful gaze to that level of feral grin in that short span of time. Yeah, it must have been a mistake of your silly eye.

Anyways, whatever it is, to say you hate drawing attention to yourself will be the greatest understatement of the century— so you decide to look away for a beat, to avoid even the faintest hint of suspicion, eyes going back to the chemical reactions strewn across the mess you call notes— only to snap back to the white-haired boy, widening in horror from the click! then the scene crashing onto your brain.

Gojo chuckles, eyes flitting from the gun aimed at the space between his eyebrows to the man holding it. "Aww," you register him croon, that self-sabotaging dumbass, "resorting to such cheap violence so quickly, Zenin-san? Grew tired of a civil conversation already? Tsk. What a pity."

Another time and you think you'll consider this precise moment to be when you wake your friend up and slowly sneak away into the kitchen then out, via the back door. Another day and you know you'll consider this very second to be when you return your focus to your assignment on carbohydrates, all the while hoping you or your friend won't be cast into a brawl none of you are a part of—

Too bad it isn't another time or another day, though.

Biting back a grimace, you shut your laptop and rise from your chair with a loud clatter.

"Forcing someone isn't really a nice way to make a deal, y'know," you hum, walking over to their table and plopping down onto the free seat next to Gojo, "what is better is to explain the pros and cons to the one opposite to you and try to convince them. Gently. And if that doesn't work, manipulate the hell out of them. But this?" you shoot the metal gun a disappointed glance, shaking your head, "this is a method even I know I shouldn't use to get my rival to agree to something, though I'm not from a criminal background."

The man– Zenin, you correct yourself; the second largest yakuza clan right after Gojo's family, your memory supplies after a beat – gives a slow look from the weapon to you, a scowl appearing on his features. And barks – voice, a disgusting grating noise to your sleep-deprived self.

"Who the fuck are you, girl? And why the fuck are you interfering in this?"

You pause. Okay, this wasn't what you were expecting when you first strolled out here. You were expecting a yell, a scuffle; worst case, the gun aimed at your precious brain. But this? One question about your identity, and the other about your reason for approaching them? You haven't prepared yourself for this!

Frowning, you cast a glance to your left, only to find the white-haired boy stare at you, staggered, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks; then at your friend who's snoring away like she doesn't give a damn about napping at work; then at the man glowering at you.

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

"Who the fuck I am... that's for me to know and for you to find out,” you answer, smirking, before growing serious again as you rush to explain, upon catching a murderous glint in the man’s eyes, “I mean, c'mon, y'all are the yakuza. This should be a piece of cake for you, shouldn’t it?"

The man's glare only worsens in result; stamping down the apprehension in your mind, you continue, "And as for why the fuck I'm interfering in this—"

You abruptly fall silent.

Offering the boy beside you a panicky glance.

Wondering what the hell you can say in reply.

Should you say, "I've been listening to you threaten the poor boy for a good thirty minutes now, saying he's gonna face dire consequences, or some shit like that, if he doesn't share the area in the east with the Zenin's or refuses to marry their third daughter— who I'm pretty sure, y'all have made into nothing but a maid, a cook and a broodmare. Poor girl, being spoken of by her own family member to a stranger boy, as if she isn't a human being but something with no life or ambition. But, hey, how you raise your kids is honestly your own problem and I’m not here to drill some lesson into your head– though I guess, folks like you could really use some. Anyways, whatever the fuck it is, I'm here because I JUST CAN'T SEE ANOTHER BEING FORCED TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST THEIR WILL. AND I’M GONNA PROTEST AGAINST IT AS LONG AS I’VE A BREATH LEFT IN MY LUNGS."

The inner-you tsks at the outer-you.

You groan inwardly, shifting to the next plan already.

So, must you say, "Gojo's my classmate, who has been sitting behind me since the first class of the year, and very weird to say, but I have also been finding him here at this coffee shop, every day I visit since that day, sitting at this specific table and scribbling in a notebook for hours at end— and, yeah, way weirder to admit out loud, but I guess I have also formed some kind of attachment to him? 'Cause of which, I feel, I get worried when I see him being actively threatened? And, yes, of course– all the while I totally ignore that he's next in line to a notorious criminal family or the fact that he's never even noticed me once before today."

Another click! bounces off the walls into your ears, making you draw away from your mind back to the situation at hand. You settle for offering a shrug.

"Why I'm here is because Gojo is one of my acquaintances and I just can't seem to stand someone being forced to do something against their will."

Your statement earns a mocking laugh from the man, but before you rush to defend yourself and the fact you spoke the truth, a calloused palm rests on your forearm. Gojo's gaze flits from you to the gun still pointed at him then back to you. You feel a mild tremor in his fingers when they meet your skin. Good heavens, Gojo must be really scared, huh?

His careful voice reaches you, a far cry from the haughty tone he was employing with the Zenin fellow earlier, "It's best if you leave now. Go take your friend and go away. And don't come back here. At least not until sometime later, yeah? Things are gonna get a hell lot messy and I don't want you to see that."

For the first time in many days, the buzz of caffeine in your veins weakens, giving way to the thrum of worry you feel at Gojo’s words. Has this bastard already accepted his fate!? Hell no! Not if you can help it!!

You give his arm a light pat.

"While I leave you here, all alone, huh?" Shaking your head, you click your tongue. "Nope! Not gonna happen, mister. My parents raised me way better than that. Besides, you might not be knowing me but I've been knowing you for a while now, and despite what everyone says of you being the crown prince, or whatever, in the underworld — I ain't leaving you here, with your life at the mercy of a person who doesn't even have a shred of respect for others' freedom of choice and stuff."

A noisy yawn sounds in the background, soon followed by a noisier series of snores. Gojo's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a funny fish, before he inquires, voice brimming with disbelief, "You... have noticed me? Since when?"

You blink, then chuckle. "Of course, I have. Since the first day, if I'm being honest here," you reply, then add as a hasty after-thought, so that he doesn't see you as a weirdo, "I mean, it's tough not to notice you, y'know? Not when you're—"

A deafening crash interrupts you in the middle of your sentence. You look away from the boy to find the man standing now, face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation while he shifts the gun's muzzle from Gojo to you, then back to Gojo, words leaving him in a harsh yell.

"THE GIRL NOTICED YOU 'CAUSE YOU'RE THE GOJO SATORU AND YOU'RE HANDSOME AS FUCK. NOW, CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH? AND YOU — YOU SICK, SPOILT GOJO BRAT– YOU SAID YOU DON'T HAVE A MINUTE TO SPARE? BUT HERE YOU ARE, CHATTING YOUR LIFE AWAY WITH THAT GIRL—"

A second deafening crash reverberates through the small shop– and you think you see your life flash before your eyes– but not before the man drops to the ground, most probably unconscious and hopefully not too damaged to lead a functional life, and very earnestly not dead. The gun clatters to the ground beside him. You turn to your classmate, eyes wide. Gojo returns your gaze, unblinking and slack jawed.

Heart thundering in your ears, you hurry to explain yourself, "I–"

"You smashed that plate on that guy's head."

Gojo’s blunt words bring you to a still, making your eyes drift to the fragments of the unlucky glass plate, to the unluckier but-totally-deserved-it Zenin, then back to your classmate. A little more awe on the boy’s face and you think his jaw might hit the floor.

You nod slowly.

"Yeah, but as self-defence. I mean, you saw how eccentric that man was acting, right? I had to do something to protect both of us," you explain, looking away from the pair of blue eyes watching you closely, to your friend who still seems to be lost in the land of sleep (how much exactly did she drink last night, huh?) to your grey sneakers, voice growing mumbled with every other syllable you utter.

"But that doesn't mean you've to feel some sort of debt towards me or anything. I too was kind of at mistake then, I guess... what with me rambling so fucking much when there was a literal gun at your head. I should have acted with more tact then – if I had done so, then maybe this mess could've been avoided. I mean, I've never seen these things before in my life, y'know? Except in TV shows, that is. Yet, this foolish me here thought she could just swoop in and save you like some sort of a hero..."

Sullen, you trail off, face growing warm from embarrassment whilst your mind devises a plan on how to clear up the mess you created, many thanks to your foolhardy nature, when a muffled laugh reaches you. Gojo's eyes twinkle in enjoyment at the bewildered huff you give him.

"You did save me like a real hero back then, y'know," he says, grinning a wide grin – before it disappears, making way for a much reserved, much shyer(??) version. A giggly voice within you whispers he looks just as sweet as he did with his cute dimples. The boy continues, carding a hand through his mess of white hair, with a casual glance at the man, "And, as for the mess you keep mentioning, don't you worry. Gun shots create more mess than a plate smashed on the head. And if I can clear that within a minute– this won't even take me a full second, Miss Hero. Don't you worry for this at all. But, yeah, thank you."

Now, you don't really know if it was the sincerity in his voice as Gojo thanked you, or the fact that he has to clean up the mess you made in the first place, or the stunned feeling so clearly visible in the blue colour of his irises when you admitted to noticing him— whatever it is, you find yourself not wanting to leave anything unsaid between you both.

Moreover, the realization that lives are considered extremely low-on-value in the world of crime, so much that guns are whipped out at the tiny disagreements or boasts are made on how quick a gunshot mess can be cleared by them — this realization doesn't make things any easier for you.

Giving the injured man and your napping friend a momentary glance, you return your focus to Gojo, whose eyes are now narrowed at his mobile, and speak those words weighing heavy on your mind right now.

"I really noticed you since the first day, Gojo," you say. The boy pauses his typing, confused gaze darting to you. "But not just 'cause you're the Gojo Satoru, or 'cause you're really pretty — which you totally are, by the way— but mainly because you had ambled into our first class, on the first day, a magnificent hour late, with your two friends— and my first thought seeing you was, what sort of a fucking entitled brat is this guy, sauntering in as if he owns the entire place."

A beat passes before the boy erupts into chuckles, though the tense quality of them doesn't escape your notice. Pocketing his mobile, he shoots you a small smile. "And what about noticing me after that? It was just my name and looks which kept your attention hooked onto me, wasn't it?"

The question– the mumbled way it was asked, more so– sends you into a brief bout of musing silence. Gojo's eyes remain trained on you the entire while — quite contrary to the innumerable adjectives you've heard to describe them: oceanic blue, sparkling blue, mesmerising blue, kind-of-startling blue– you think they're just... blue. So blue, you wonder if there's anything as blue as that gaze peering down at you.

Perhaps not.

Lips curving into a smile, you hum, "Yes and no. Yes, 'cause that was the main reason why my eyes kept trailing you whenever we were in the same place. No, 'cause they were the reasons only until I realised what kind of person you are, and how very different you're from what I first thought of you. I got new reasons after those."

"Mind telling me those new reasons?"

Gojo's nervous question widens the smile on your face. Casting your friend a glance — goodness, how many drinks did she really have at the party she went to last night — you reply, making your voice light and friendly, "Your personality made me curious. You are old money, with good looks to boot— you're literally the heartthrob of every girl on campus! Still, I've never seen you with anyone from them— never with anyone outside your group of three friends — though, I got to admit, the blond boy looks nothing less than constipated for a week, when he talks to you."

That last comment draws a chuckle from the white-haired boy. The tightness in his shoulders seems to relax a bit, you note with relief. Face still carrying the same smile as before, you continue speaking.

"And the second point which made me curious was how different you behave in different places. Your voice rings across the cafeteria every day during lunch yet you stay so quiet here for hours at end. You once said you've never been much of a book person, yet I always see you in this shop, immersed in your notebooks. And– what has struck me the most of all is the way you tend to go out of you way to annoy others – I've been sitting in front of you in class for a good three months now, yet you've never ever irritated me in the slightest. Kind of strange, ain’t it?"

Stunned silence comes as the answer to your question, what with the addressed classmate of yours, rooted to his spot on the ground, blue eyes as round as the plate you had smashed on the man's head some time ago and the expression on Gojo's face, almost as if you've grown a couple of heads in the while you have been chatting with him.

Or more like monologuing, now that you think about it.

This guy is always so chatty with others: he was even then with that gun cocked to take his life — then why the fuck is he so unspeaking right now, eh?

"Oh God, Satoru, I can't believe your plan of lurking in the places she goes to, to catch her eye, worked out!!" "Are you asking her out right now, bro?" "Can you all please move? It's raining like hell outside and I'm not really keen to get my leather jacket wet, thank you."

The noisy rumbles of rain and thunder stream in through the opened door, before the latter is closed again, snapping you out of your internal monologue, a bit too sudden and harsh for your liking. Three pairs of eyes regard you with an utmost curiosity — you return them a blink before dragging your eyes away and looking at the boy a good foot away, only to find him resolutely staring at the overhead lights. Two pretty long (and pretty weird) seconds pass before you finally decide to tear your gaze away from him to the rain-soaked glass window of the eatery.

A face with creased brows and warmed cheeks greets you from your reflection.

Screwing your eyes tight shut in an attempt to ward off an annoying headache you can feel build up, slowly yet steadily, you let out a sigh.

Friendship with the Gojo Satoru seems good enough but romance with the Gojo Satoru... that doesn’t seem half-as-good, right?

Right?

"Wrong."

Your son's insistent voice, coupled by the tiny fist he slams down on the table, breaks you out of your reverie and you turn to find Sachiro wearing a frown, tears brimming in his eyes– eyes which move away from his father and sister to you, pinning your drowsy form beneath the weight of their moisture.

Stifling a weary sigh, you place the menu card back on the table and coo, "Aw, Sachiro! What's wrong, baby? Are Papa and Sachiko saying mean things to you again? Are they still teasing you regarding today's incident?"

Although, you suppose to yourself, catastrophe might suit what happened today, way more than the word 'incident'— what with the shrieks, cries and yells resounding through your flat in the short time you took to get ready for your Sunday lunch at a restaurant. Rubbing his eyes a little, the little boy scoots closer to you and nods weakly, wrapping his tiny arms round you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you direct a stern look at the two sitting across from you.

Sipping on the welcome drink, Sachiko just shrugs back at you.

"I'm not the wrong person here, Mom. He is," your daughter explains, pointing a finger at her brother, then retracting it at your frown. Your husband snickers from beside her. “Yeah, sweetness, it’s Sachiro who’s wrong. Getting confused on when’s your birthday is no small mistake. Besides, our darling little munchkins taunt me the entire time if I ever make a mistake, no? Can’t see why they can’t stand a taste of their own medicine, then.”

The sobs muffled into the cotton of your dress grow in intensity and misery. Sending her father a vicious stink eye, your daughter moves to observe you and her brother, a cute little frown on her face.

"Okay, fine," she relents after a short beat, returning the lemonade to the table, "Guess I was a little wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have teased him so much, along with Papa, for messing up the date of your birthday. I also should not have said, he doesn't love you, some time back."

A very weighted moment passes. The little girl jumps off her seat and reaches your side of the table, tiny arms reaching out to wrap around her brother. It takes a minute, and a small nudge from your side but soon enough, your two kids are hugging each other; Sachiro, a wailing mess, whilst Sachiko, being the older of the twins that she is, keeps saying 'sorry's' and patting his head, the exact same way their father does to them in times of their grave distress — when they throw a tantrum and get a nice long lecture from you, that is.

Fond smile creeping onto your lips, you tear your gaze away from the two adorable angels of your life to your husband.

Relieved to find him sans any teasing smile, you receive a gentle look from him, his hand reaching out to interweave his fingers through yours. You let him with a content hum, basking in the simple domestic joy seeping in through the sweetly scented air of the restaurant. A pair of plush lips press to your palm; biting back a giddy giggle, you throw the owner of said luscious lips a meaningful wink.

Though... you doubt how much of your meaning could be conveyed to him... given how the two of you jerk back from each other a mere instant later, at the loud clearing of a throat from Sachiko and an angry 'Papa! Go away!' from Sachiro.

Stomping back to her chair and settling into it with some effort and a huff, you watch an extremely pissed shadow form over the little girl's face, worsening as she twists and cranes her neck up to face her father. You really, really think your husband must not chuckle in this way in the face of such a thunderstorm— not when your daughter is shooting daggers with her gaze; and certainly not when your son is shooting that gloating smirk at him.

Another time and you think you’ll look at that glare and at that smirk, then proceed to be on cloud-nine, realizing your children, despite being xerox copies of their father (both in looks and manners), did inherit certain features from you as well— something which a terribly competitive voice inside your head claims, is a great win— now, however, is decidedly no such time.

Not when the person you’ve loved for these many years and know, will continue to do so for an eternity, looks one step away from being tormented to death– by none but the two milk-toothed lights of both of your lives.

You watch Sachiko’s frown deepen, more than should be possible for someone her age, then begin.

"Papa, I'm sorry but I have to break our deal. Sachiro is right. We two are the strongest duo of twins in the multiverse — we can't let you break our team this way. So, what if my brother makes a mistake? He's a young baby and babies are allowed to make mistakes, aren't they?"

You wonder if she truly understands she was born a mere six minutes prior than her brother... and not six whole years, as appears to be the case right now. Holding back chuckles, you spare the person, addressed in the ‘not-really-apology' apology, an amused glance, then nod your head solemnly at her words.

"They are, baby. They so are," you agree in the very next instant, then ask, a genuine inquiring inflection to your tone, "But what deal did Papa make you agree to, baby? Sounds pretty serious to me, to be honest."

"Oh, it wasn't anything, sweet cheeks," your husband begins with an awfully nervous-sounding chortle; too bad, your daughter is quick to beat him to it. Throwing him a smirk, you can only describe to be devious, she looks back at you and grins. "Two weeks back, Papa found me in the living room, late at night, staring at shooting stars through the windows. And I found him walking away from the kitchen, eating a giant chocolate bar. Papa said you’ll be very mad because we didn’t listen to what you said, so, we should make a deal and become a team to keep this a secret from you."

"Papa made that deal– only to divide us. So, our strong team can be destroyed and he can easily defeat us and keep you all for himself, Mama," your son chips in, puffy eyes narrowed into a very hard glare. Your daughter agrees vehemently from the opposite side.

Your eyes drop to the glass of lemonade before you; you try your best to stifle the yawn.

This fight over your affection has been going on since the time your children turned four or so... and despite them nearing an age of six in few months, no end can be seen in the horizon, to this war raging within your home...

And as for the matter of Sachiko being awake way past her bedtime? You reckon you can't really do much on this, other than repeating the rules and the reasons behind each one of them– especially of punctuality and an adequate sleep– to her, like you did the last time... though, you think of toning your lecture down a little this time, considering it wasn't a video game but a meteor show she had stayed awake for... besides you too used to be — okay, no, wait, what???

Your husband's sheepish grin collides with the incensed glare you aim his way over the table. Letting out a frustrated huff of an exhale, your face turns away from his, choosing to stare at itself in the clean glass windows instead — too, too mad to acknowledge that white-haired, blue-eyed menace of yours, whining apologies with a pitiful gaze.

You screw your eyes shut and let out a sigh.

Being married to the yakuza king, Gojo Satoru, is a story, you deem, it couldn’t have been better, but being married to the sweet fiend, Gojo Satoru?

Oh, sweet– no, strike that, you fucking hate that word—

Oh, sour heavens above.

That's a different story altogether.

▸ if you've reached this point and still love me and/or my writing, istg I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. writing something inspired by one's self-ship is so satisfying but so difficult, ngl. A BIG TYYY TO YOU WHO IS READING THIS LINE RN AFTER READING THIS MONSTROSITY OF A ONESHOT *sniffles*

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo fic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

448 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 3 months

Text

What to watch after Pit Babe? Thai BL Actor Guide

So you loved Pit Babe and you wanna see your favorite BL boy in his old series? But should you?

Here's a guide...

Babe AKA Pavel - 2 Moons 2

Pavel is one of my favorite actors in BL (he's this blog's icon for a reason) and actually 2 Moons 2 is pretty good, primarily because of his character, Forth. Who has an actual character evolution and growth arc... in a BL!

Amazing.

Don't be fooled 2 Moons 2 is a reboot and extension of 2 Moons, not a spin off. So you don't have to have watched the first iteration, in fact I recommend against it.

Anygay, the main couple of 2M2 is naff, but Forth is great and Pavel is great as that character. He has good chemistry with his pairing, and as a BL fan it's not a bad idea to know your 2 Moon's roots. 2 Moons is one of the most popular Y-novels ever written, one of the most popular shows of it's time, and the perpetuator of many Thai BL tropes.

Pavel's second BL, Coffee Melody, is not worth watching.

If Babe was your favorite character, and Babe & Charlie a pairing you enjoy, I would suggest Big Dragon as your next BL. Same vibes, high heat, chaotic. Another possibility is the slightly lower heat but stil unhinged Laws of Attraction.

You also might like some stuff out of Taiwan. They tend to have the angst + high heat + sappy softness that characterized Charlie + Babe.

Way AKA Nut - Oxygen

Nut is way different in his previous rolls, as the lead in both Oxygen, and Something in My Room. Same gorgeous voice and soulful eyes and Nut tends to play sensitive torn characters but the similarities end there.

In Oxygen, his acting is stiff. In fact, Oxygen as a whole is pretty stiff. I like it very much and it is a big comfort watch for me because of it's smooth peaceful softness, but it's flawed, slow and awkward. I did an episode by episode thing for that show (my first watch along).

In his second BL, Something in My Room, Nut demonstrates improved acting and chemistry, but I don't recommend it. It's a touch of horror, built on the "my ghost boyfriend" trope, and it's quite sad.

So try Oxygen but if what you're after is more BL with a Way-like main character then I would recommend Moonlight Chicken or The Eclipse chewy BL with sensitive boys and some grey morality.

Jeff AKA Pon - Starhunter Talent

Pon was with Starhunter before this and so has appearances in several of their BLs. He's demonstrated great natural acting talent, charisma, and good chemistry with all his pairs but because he often appeared in chaotic ensemble pieces has been easily forgotten (including by me). Starhunter chronically underused him but also utterly miss-applied him.

Gen Y 2 is actually a master class in flawed casting. They put Pon into a triangle, where he plays a fated mate pining uke against a very stiff lead pair - but they expected us not to want him to be end game. Big mistake. Watch this mess if you just want to see how a good actor can eat up all the air of a bad pair, winning hearts and influencing fans.

Otherwise the Gen Y series is a bloated mess, and I can't recommend them. I trashed watched so you don't have too. While Pon demonstrates skills against a backdrop of ranging tallent, oddball story, and chaotic outcomes I wouldn't have bothered if not for the dumpster fire.

Pon's first BL is The Moment, and he's good in it, but it's a terrible show. Boring and plotless.

He's fantastic in Make A Wish but only a side part (despite what is said in MDL) and his arc is VERY sad. Still it's a GREAT under appreciated BL, I recommend it as the one to watch if you have to see Pon in something else. It's nothing like Pit Babe though.

Yeah our pathway for Pon ends here, so lets look, instead, at

Alan & Jeff - Bed Friend

This was Sailub's first BL role, and I speak for all of us when I say... more please.

So instead of a watching a pathway for him, I'm gonna give you a few BL suggestions based on the assumption that this side couple was your favorite from this series (as it was mine).

What we had with this pairing was

older sensitive sweetheart sunshine seme + tortured dark scared tsundere uke.

FUN dynamic! Here are some options where this style took center stage:

Bed Friend

Between Us

Love By Chance (AePete only)

Triage

Tokyo in April is

I Became the Main Role of a BL

Pete & Kenta - Word of Honor

Ah you like your boys troubled with money, questionable morals, and the slight inclination to pick at their fingernails with a knife?

Neither Garfield nor Ping have done other BLs but here are my picks for BLs that feature this kind of character and dynamic, and we are leaving Thailand for these (since it's darker territory than Thailand usually handles... well).

HIStory 3: Trapped

Long Time No See

Irresistible Love

Word of Honor

Where Your Eyes Linger

Other familiar faces

NORTH AKA Michael

North played by Michael was our big comedy insert for this show.

But all his roles prior to this were very serious. Till the World Ends and Call It What You Want are practically depressing, even his role in Oxygen is pretty dark. He actually has been in BL a very long time, he was one of Noh's friends in Love Sick at just 18. Frankly, that'd waht you should watch if you are gonna watch any of his back catelogue, but it's NOTHING like Pit Babe or his role in it, still it's the beginning of Thai BL and Noh is a little sunshine of chaos, and it's great so...

Where was I?

If you really want a comedic himbo lead character there are are quite a few out there, and it's a crazy playing field because Japan is in it to win it.

Leaving aside high school stuff, here are some options:

Cherry Magic (Japan)

Ossan’s Love

Mr Unlucky Can Only Kiss

Love Tractor

Bad Buddy

Love Stage!!

My Day

History 4: Close to You

KIM AKA Benz

Benz who played Kim has also done BL before, En of Love: This Is Love Story, but it is not good and not worth watching.

While I want the queer Falling Into Your Smile or Love O2O or Appledog more than anything, that doesn't exist. We have yet to have a true gaymer BL. (I mean come on, nerdy queer is practically a stereotype at this point, where is it?)

All of which is to say if Kim was your favorite... I don't know. Our Dating Sim maybe Semantic Error?

WINNER AKA Pop

Pop has lead out a BL, it's a very slow, very queer, very unwatched piece called La Cuisine.

@heretherebedork and I loved it, but it's hard to imagine anyone else enjoying it. You have to be a hard BL stan to tolerate the pace and pulp quality of that one. He's a completely different character but if you really like the actor try him in La Cuisine, I think he was better cast for that than Pit Babe.

I just enjoyed the show in general, what's next?

In general, if you really enjoyed Pit Babe itself as a series (and it's multiple couples and chaotic noise and erratic concept) you're in the KinnPorsche camp of Thai BL. I actually made a "watch next" pathways and rating guide for that show, which might work for you.

Specifically I would say Manner of Death. It's a little more focused in character and plot but still a wild ride. And MaxTul are the Kings for a reason.

You might also try Not Me, Never Let Me Go, and 3 Will Be Free although all of these, coming from GMMTV, are lower heat levels than Pit Babe.

Finally, seriously, try The Sign. I know it was airing "in competition" but there is room in your heart for both shows. I promise. They have the same wild sexy energy, and are loads of fun.

(source)

146 notes · View notes

thecuriousquest · 6 months

Note

Hi! I would like to request part 2 of "My stone cold husband."

They go to a party together and Levi gets slightly drunk. He starts staring at her intensely which makes her nervous. She thinks she did something wrong and that he is angry. When they returned to their bedroom she was scared and expecting to be punished. But to her surprise, he pinned her to the bed and started kissing her. He murmured how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. She was flabbergasted because she wasn't used to his affections. He strips off her clothes and starts making love to her. (Note: making love, not fucking.) He was softly kissing her all over and praising and complimenting her the whole time. He was being gentle and focusing solely on her pleasure. He was being romantic and gentle during sex for once. She had never experienced something like that from him before, but she wasn't complaining. She ended up enjoying it and he cuddled her to sleep later. The next day, Levi was confused when she was uncharacteristically giddy and cheerful towards him, but he didn't mind.

The Effects of Alcohol (Part Two of My Stone Cold Husband)

Ohhhh honey, babe, sweet little muffin, I love this concept! I feel like I wrote a major breakthrough with this softer side of Levi, and it feels like a major accomplishment in a way. I’m sorry it took so long to get to, but thank you for the request and your patience!!! 🖤🤘

Tag List: @issamomma @palesweetscherryblossom @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, consensual sex, romantic sex, vaginal sex, briefly mentioned oral sex, slightly possessive tendencies, Reader is an anxious mess in the beginning, nudity, drinking

Note: This is the last of this series. I will no longer be doing stories involving My Stone Cold Husband.

Master List

My Stone Cold Husband

—————————————————————————

In your opinion, the party could have been a lot better. There’s just no one for you to talk with as Levi keeps you on a short leash the entire night. While he converses with everyone, you silently wait at his side, ever the quiet and obedient wife.

However, Levi gets drawn away from you, in the midst of a hushed discussion with Commander Erwin. You’re left at a table all alone, sipping on a glass of wine. You don’t know any of his colleagues besides Erwin, and you’re not sure if it’s a good idea to walk over to the duo and interrupt their conversation.

Waiting idly, your eyes wander across the room, landing on your handsome husband. Goodness, the way he’s looking at you has you blushing, the hue of your cheeks putting a rose to shake. But then…his eyes never waver. He doesn’t look away when you catch his gaze.

You’re cheeks are no longer red. In fact, the color from your face has been drained, brows knit with worry as you chew on your bottom lip.

No, this isn’t good. He’s still looking at you as if you’ve done something wrong. You can’t…you have to step out. You leave the table you’ve been told to stay at, taking a breath of fresh air. The moon casts a pale light over you, and you can’t help but sigh out of relief being out of your husband’s sight.

The hand gripping your bicep alerts you to another presence out here with you. You’d know that clutch anywhere. Turning, you find your husband staring at you with a slight flush to his own cheeks.

“Let’s go home. We have some things to take care of.” He stands perfectly still, not at all wobbling on his own two feet, yet his words are slurred.

You only nod as anxiety hugs your stomach, squeezing it until you feel like your dinner is going to make a reappearance.

———

Entering the household, Levi has your hand in his, and he strides straight for the bedroom. The door closes behind you, and you keep your eyes on the floor.

“Husband, if I’m to be punished, please, just tell me.”

He only pulls you closer to his body. Stomach to stomach, he lays his hands on your waist, feeling the fabric of your dress beneath his fingers. He feels the creases, letting himself just revel in your proximity.

“Is there something you should be punished for?” he whispers against your neck. His focus shifts to the hem of your dress, lifting it over your head, letting it drop on a chair.

You can’t help but notice he is doing everything so slowly. Feeling you, undressing you, nuzzling his nose against the junction where shoulder meets neck.

His fingers ghost your clit ever so lightly, feeling as though they were never even there to begin with. You can’t help the slight moan into Levi’s shoulder as you clutch him tightly.

Your calf winds around his leg, drawing him in closer and closer. His hands trail down the backs of your thighs. Ticklish, you can’t help but squirm and laugh.

And he genuinely huffs a chuckle as he gathers your thighs around his waist, carrying you over to the bed. Ever so gently, he lays you down. Simply looking at your corset and underwear clad body.

The removal of his shirt is a drawn out process, one that he only slightly struggles with. Levi ends up getting frustrated with the buttons as he fumbles to undo them, so he ends up tearing it away from his body.

Slipping off his pants and letting them hang off of his ankle, he crawls over your still form on the bed. As he sets his knees between yours, you hear the dull thud of his trousers hitting the floor. You can’t help but giggle at the unexpected noise. He pushes his nose between the cleavage amplified by your corset, and you feel the exhale from his nostrils as he laughs along with whatever you find amusing.

Your hands twirl his curtain bangs, pushing them back, feeling the prickles of his undercut. His masculine hands cradle beneath you, finding the strings of your corset and trying to untie them. You can tell he must have had not two drinks but a couple more if he’s having a hard time with your corset.

“Levi, do you want me to sit up?”

“Shhh, my love, let me do everything for you. My beautiful wife. So sweet and kind. Trying to make everything easier for me.”

He finally releases you from the corset, and you realize you’ll have to lace it back up tomorrow as he pulls it away from the front of your body. You close your eyes, relaxing as he fingers the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs until they join the rest of your clothes strewn across the room.

“How did I get so lucky to have a strong woman like you in my life?”

It takes you a moment to process what he just said, and you can’t help the widening of your eyes. He has never called you strong before. Wrapping your arms around him, feeling the warm skin covering the muscles of his back, you hold him closely as he kisses your collarbone.

“Levi…I love you,” you whisper into his ear as you wrap your legs around his hips.

It seems to be a first for many tonight, because this is the first time you’ve uttered those words as well. Never before have you and Levi expressed such feelings. Your usual stone cold husband has finally come out of his enigmatic shell, and you can feel everything pleasurable pent up inside of him as he traces the bones of your hips.

“Everything about you is my favorite,” he confesses as he slips his erection inside of you.

Your back arches, creating space between your spine and the bed as your husband leans his weight on you. With your head buried beneath him, you bristle with his body temperature.

With nothing between you, face to face, you can’t even think about how out of the ordinary this is. Usually, both of you are clothed. Usually, he takes you from behind as he bends you over some piece of convenient furniture.

Tonight, things are so different, but instead of letting your mind run at a thousand miles an hour with thoughts, you leave your head blank, simply taking this time to be present in the moment with this side of your husband that you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting until now.

You feel him press himself deeper inside of you, his hard length slipping against your walls. Whimpering from the sensation, you can’t help but hug his member, clenching down on him fervently.

“I’m such a lucky man. I’m so lucky I have you. You’re not just my wife. You’re my love. I want you to know that. Please, understand that.”

He runs his hands through your tresses, not curling your hair around his fingers, not tugging on your locks, just feeling the texture as if it’s his first time doing so.

“I couldn’t live without you.” Levi kisses your cheek, praising you, passionately confessing into your blazing skin. “I wouldn’t make it without you. You’re the only person I need to get through this miserable life. You make it…oh, hmmmm, you make everything so much better! I couldn’t be with anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else. You’re all I need, my love.”

He goes quiet again, feeling your walls milk him. The luxurious sensation is all he can focus on. You cry out in pure ecstasy as you feel his fingers rub against the sensitive button of your clit while slowly rocking into you.

Your breasts bounce with each heavy breath, inhaling and exhaling his delicious scent of sandalwood, pine, and whiskey.

You have no words to return after all that you’ve heard. You just can’t think as he fills you with unadulterated pleasure. Finally succumbing to your body’s natural reaction to his ministrations, a rush of your juices flow against the head of his length, dripping down your thighs as it spills over your folds.

His hips slowly, every so slowly, thrust into you with the calmness of a babbling brook. It’s so serene. It puts you in a place of such peacefulness upon your post-orgasm.

“Levi, I love you! I love you! I love you!”

Suddenly, with the impact of your words, he spasms inside of you. He pulls himself away from you, missing the warmth he felt buried between your thighs.

Your husband looks down at you with such softness in those grey eyes. They look like a light has been added to them with how he’s admiring you.

His fingers find your chin, not forcing you to look at him, but encouraging you to meet his gaze.

“I love you too, more than you could ever know.”

You spend the night engulfed in his arms, enveloped in passion as you two show each other just how much you appreciate and feel for one another. Never bent over the bed, only chest to chest, with the exception of his head at the apex of your thighs, you both can’t help but fall asleep under the covers two hours later at three in the morning. Just a mess of tangled limbs and beads of sweat, you close your eyes with a kiss to his chest and a smile on your face.

———

When ten am arrives, you realize you overslept drastically. You take your time waking up, stretching your arms and legs as you drag yourself from the bed. Dressing in a nightgown, you can’t help the quirk of your lips as you replay your romantic night with Levi in your mind’s eye. The gentle caresses, the soft spoken affirmations of love, the tenderness of his lips on your body; you think about all of it as you descend the staircase.

In the doorway of the kitchen, you watch Levi make tea on the stove. His chest and feet are still bare, the only clothes he is wearing are his trousers. You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder blade.

“Good morning, husband. Did you sleep well?”

He stiffens only a little as he turns his head, trying to get a better look at you.

“Yes, I slept well…” His sentence is punctuated with silence.

“I also slept well. Last night was amazing, Levi.” You press your lips right below his neck. “I really feel like we connected.”

Turning around in your arms so that he can face you, he brings his arms to wrap around you as well. Despite all of the drinks he had, he still remembers everything quite clearly, and he must say, he enjoyed himself tremendously.

“I had a pleasant night as well, my love.”

Though the action is unfamiliar to him in his sober state, he can’t help but kiss the tip of your nose.

The tea kettle begins screaming with steam, and you jump slightly from the surprise, a startled gasp following suit. Levi’s smile shows, and you both erupt in laughter.

Maybe, he really, truly isn’t such a stone cold husband after all.

243 notes · View notes

patito-oward · 4 months

Text

First Night

masterlist

WC: 1.6k

Summary: YN and Pato spend their first night together

Previous Parts: I

me posting?? who is she. i hope you all love please repost if you do 🤍🤍

Pato had arrived at her house the next night to take her out once again. They went on a series of 6 dates in two weeks, and had become quite enamored with each other in that time. YN was hesitant at first, trying to keep her guard up while she waited for the other shoe to drop, but Pato had wormed his way in. It was hard to not let her walls down and let him in when he was so incredibly sweet.

Their second date Pato picked her up in a rented Toyota Corolla which made YN giggle when she saw it. “You actually rented a car to pick me up in?”

“I’m on my third strike and I couldn't risk it.”

Pato knew when he first saw her that she was special, but never expected to fall as hard and as fast as he had. He had come to expect that he was not seen as “boyfriend material” for most women. He knows his schedule and frequent travel doesn’t scream commitment. He had gotten used to a few dates, maybe a couple hookups, and not much more. He tried to convince himself he was okay with that. That the one night stands were fun and he needed to focus on his career anyways, and he was fulfilled by it. It worked– sometimes.

It worked until he’d watch a cheesy romance movie and think about how much he wanted someone to be by his side, or until he had a kid come up so him at a race, a gap in their front teeth and incredibly excited to meet him, and he realized how much he wanted a family of his own.

So he cut off the hookups, because after each one he would be left with this lasting feeling of emptiness, and he’d stopped going on dates for the most part, accepting that his career has prevented him from what he really wanted. If it hadn’t been for Elba’s incessant nagging, he wouldn’t have gone on the date with YN. He’s never been more thankful to have such an annoying older sister.

He invited YN over so he could cook dinner for her, and he was suddenly very nervous about how the night would go. He had tried to plan the perfect night, decorating his table with a large vase of red roses and candles, but as she got closer to arriving he started to doubt himself and wonder if it was too much. He doesn’t want a repeat of their first date where she was clearly overwhelmed.

Before he could think too much about it or change anything, his doorbell rang, and he decided to just try and make the best of the night. The second he opened the door he felt a lot better, she had that effect on him, just seeing her seemed to lower his heart rate and calm him down. She looked absolutely gorgeous in a pair of dark jeans and a cropped sweater.

“Hi!” She greeted him with the sweetest smile and he realized how utterly gone he was for her.

“Hi, you look beautiful.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, a quick gesture but even that made his stomach flip, and moved aside so she could come in.

She had seen his apartment before, but only briefly when he realized he left his phone after he picked her up, and invited her inside. He could tell she was really taking in the place now, the night time made it seem different, softer, the few lights he had on cast a soft glow through the place.

The timer on his phone went off and he headed towards the oven to take out dinner. He made pasta for the night, and it was in the oven to bake the cheese he topped it with. It was when they reached the kitchen that she took note of the dining table.

“Is it too much? I’m sorry if it is; I just wanted tonight to go perfect and I’ve messed it up already.” He started apologizing without her saying anything.

“It’s gorgeous. I can't believe you set this all up and thought I wouldn’t like it.” YN assures him, and kisses him hard trying to show him all of her gratitude.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Dinner is easy, like most things have become between them. YN has never felt so comfortable with someone, and wants to tell him everything. Pato already wants YN to know the deepest parts of him, he wants to learn her inside and out and vice versa.

The thing they’ve taken to talking to most is their families, and they’ve learned so much about each other through that. They both have one sibiling, their best friend, and they’re both extremely close to their families. In a lot of ways YN reminds him of Elba, when she talks about her younger sister he can tell how much he cares for her. She tells him about how she used to watch her sister frequently while her mom worked two jobs to support them. In a sense he feels like he’s met her sister and mother, the way she describes them he can tell there’s so much love between them.

They’ve completely gone through the getting to know you stage, conversations now filled with stories and deep conversations about fears and the future.

After dinner they settle onto the couch, and are scrolling for something to watch. Pato has a large, comfy sectional, but YN has chosen to curl up right against him. It sends a warmth through him, he can smell the mix of her strawberry shampoo and vanilla perfume, and decides it is his new favorite smell. He wraps his arm around her and she leans on his shoulder.

They scroll through netflix and find a baking show to spend the rest of the night watching. It was less about what they were watching for both of them, and more about just being together; however, they both got quite into the show, enjoying watching the competition and judging the bakers themselves.

As the night went on, YN grew pretty drowsy on the couch, and after an episode ended announced, “I should probably head home soon.”

When she sat up, Pato immediately missed the weight of her against him. “Ok, I guess it is getting pretty late.”

She kissed him then, “Thank you for dinner.”

“I’ll make dinner more often if that’s what it gets me.” She laughs at his response and leans in for another kiss.

The kiss quickly deepens, but it’s soft and slow. YN moves herself to be sitting on his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Up until this point they haven’t done anything other than kissing and heavy petting. Pato desperately wanted to know every inch of YN, but knows that if he does what he has always done the results will always be the same. Plus the teasing has been incredibly hot, and he’s willing to wait for her.

When they pull away from each other they’re both a little breathless. Pato can feel his heartbeat in his throat, and is glad the room is dark because he’s sure there’s a pink tint across his face. He speaks before he can stop himself, “Don’t go.”

YN freezes in her spot perched in his lap, “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay, I’ll sleep on the couch if you want, we don’t have to do anything, just don’t go.” He’s begging at this point, but he really can’t stand the thought of her leaving him.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch.” She leans in for another kiss, so soft he almost doesn’t feel it.

He gently coaxes her off his lap and leads her to his room. He grabs them both some pajamas from his dresser. He gives her a pair of sweatpants and an arrow mclaren hoodie, remembering that she’d told him she freezes in the night.

He got out an extra toothbrush for her, and showed her where his face wash and medicine was. While she got ready, he got dressed himself. They switched places when she came out of the bathroom.

As she waited for him she looked around his room, not what she expected, but she didn’t really know what she expected. He had a white comforter and sheets on the bed, with black and copper throw pillows. The furniture is black metal and dark wood, giving an industrial but homey vibe to the room.

He leaves the bathroom and YN takes the opportunity to really sink him in. He’s in a pair of grey sweatpants that make her a little crazy, and a tight white long sleeve that hugs his biceps so perfectly she’s drooling.

They climb into his bed together and YN immediately notices his smell enveloping her. He smells woodsy and warm. YN notices that they both climbed into opposite sides without thinking about it, another way they fit so perfectly together.

Pato lays on his back and YN hesitates before curling into his side. He wraps his arms around her shoulder and she entangles her leg with his and rests her hand on his chest, “Is this ok?” She asks him.

He can’t believe she even has to ask because he’s never been better. “Perfect.”

She starts absentmindedly scratching at his chest, and the last thing she remembers before drifting off is Pato kissing her head and whispering, “Buenas noches.”

That was the first of many nights spent together for YN and Pato. Already fallen for each other much more than either was willing to admit. Their souls as intertwined as their legs.

#pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #pato o’ward fanfiction #indy car #pato o’ward imagine #po5

127 notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 2 years

Text

the flames that divide

Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader (nsfw / 18+)

part three of the prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: don't you love me? - part two: and what of your love? - part four: the aftermath

themes: angst, smut, mention of violence, language, dragonrider!reader (her house is not stated)

word count: 3.6k ▪︎ masterlist

Aemond makes a decision about his impending marriage to Alys Rivers, and it's not without its consequences.

You wake slowly, drifting peacefully into consciousness, the haze of dawn pouring into the room, your lover still asleep beside you.

Aemond. He is on his side, one arm slung over you, keeping you close. His face gently rests on your shoulder, and his lips are parted in slumber.

Those perfect lips that traced every contour of your body last night.

Seven hells, I love you.

Careful not to wake him, you let your fingers drift on the side of his face, lightly touching in reverence. His sapphire eye gleams up at you, more beautiful than any of the stars in the heavens.

You can't recall for certain what your favourite color was before seeing it, but now and always, it will remain the same deep, endless blue.

Then, he smirks.

The bastard is awake. "Why have you stopped, my love? Don't mind me, just keep on."

He brings his hand to yours, the one resting on his face, and nudges it to continue its movement.

You smile, "Good morning, you menace."

"I love you too." He whispers, leaning on his arm and hovering over you, “I’ve decided that we could just stay here for the rest of our days. Easily sustain ourselves by putting our field to good use, and we'll go riding on dragonback together, seeing the world, even beyond the Seven Kingdoms."

The image he conjured up was beautiful, but it also elicited a deep kind of pain unlike anything you've ever felt. He was describing a dream. And, reality is often not conducive to dreams.

"Hmm," your voice comes out weak, "that sounds like a good idea, Aemond."

He immediately knows exactly how you're feeling, and how much torment the idea brings. All at once, he feels hate. For everyone. For himself. For his family, the Greens, the Blacks. Why did everything have to be so fucked? Why does he have to be the way that he is? Why can't the two of you just be happy?

It feels like a ceaseless cruel joke that he's been dealt with. He wants to give you everything, but by simply being who he is, he can't.

"We can venture out into the Free Cities this instant." He positions himself above you, forearms framing your face.

"When do we leave?" You whisper in return.

"Hmm," he kisses you, and you think of how there's no better way to wake up than this, "shortly after."

"After, my love?" You ask, but you can already feel him, pressed against your stomach, preparing to anchor himself into your flesh.

"Mhmm," he begins peppering your body with kisses, from your neck to the flesh between your thighs, hands eagerly exploring where they please. His fingers travel downward, and start to glide against your folds. Smooth circular movements that ignite the fire. He lifts himself and kneads his cock with the wetness of your core, priming you for entry.

His hands finds yours, steady on either side of your head.

"Look at me." He commands.

So you do. And, slowly, then all at once, he enters you.

You moan in unison, grinding against each other. And the entire time, he holds your gaze. The way your name keeps spilling from lips - like in prayer, like a spell being cast - sounds nothing short of maddening.

Aemond fucks you desperately, making a wild mess out of you. Hoping that perhaps, if he does it hard enough, then maybe the both of you can forget about everything. And moments later, as he drives you to see stars, you think of how it all feels like a dream.

You realize that dreams are real. They're the way his skin feels against yours, how the words 'I love you' sound from his lips, the tranquility that simply being with him allows.

If being with Aemond was your reality, then reality just might be a dream, after all.

But then again, dreams are typically shattered upon waking.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Putting on your black riding boots, the last piece of clothing still left on the floor, you start to feel a sense of dread. Aemond has dressed prior and is leaning casually by the wall, watching you with his signature smirk. Just a minute ago, he had quipped about being disappointed that you were getting dressed, your "goddess-like" body being shielded from his view.

But what's going to happen afterward?

"Aemond." You look up at him, trying to send a message with just a look.

"Yes, we can just stay here, my love." He smoothly says, not missing a beat.

You're not having it anymore. "What about your marriage?"

"Don't." His entire demeanor changes, losing all his sly playfulness.

"What about Alys Rivers?"

"She does not matter."

"She is your betrothed. She should matter." You stand, arms crossed, trying to catch his eyes, but he is adamant in looking away.

"My love," he moans in exasperation. He doesn't want to reveal the true reason of why he chose Alys Rivers. More than a whim, as he wants to make himself believe. More than how amusing and strange she might be. More than how she defies nearly all the standards warranted of a royal consort for someone of his status.

"Prince Aemond's Alys," as she likes to call herself, was more than just a Strong bastard. She was a Strong bastard witch.

Aemond has only read about the religion of R'hollor in ancient texts, never seeing any proof with his own eyes, until Alys.

She knew things. She could see things. She promised Aemond that she can all but guarantee victory for the Greens, more especially for Aemond, if he just gives himself to her.

He thought, if marriage with you was not possible, then why not choose a marriage that would actually prove to be beneficial. A marriage that would give him power.

When he made his decision, he allowed himself to close his heart to you, even just for a moment. His anger won over - how you abandoned him, how you did not endeavour to see him or speak to him. He thought if he was not going to marry his love, then what better than a fucking witch.

"It's not that simple," is all that comes out of him.

"It is," you raise your voice, "don't marry her because you love me!"

"She may..." he paces the room slowly, "She may yet be of use to me."

"What the fuck does that mean? Do you care about her?"

"Not in the way that you think."

Frustration bubbles up inside you. Why is he being so cryptic? You sigh, "So tell me then. Make me understand, Aemond."

Aemond doesn't know what to say, without arousing any more of your anger. Should he reveal that Alys may help his side win the war, then that ultimately means that your side will be defeated. Most likely even amassing more casualties. More people whom you care about.

Of course, Aemond would never let anything happen to you. As a matter of fact, he's doing this for you. So this war can finally end, and you can spend the rest of your days together. But that wouldn't matter. You will never be able to see past this. Aemond taking up another lover, simply for the purpose of bringing about the downfall of the Blacks. You would never want to speak to him again. Should you feel compelled to kill him, he wouldn't blame you.

So what the fuck do I do, my love? What can I do, that won't result in losing you? Aemond's torment can be reflected in his expression, in his steely gaze.

"I will not marry her. But, if I am to be honest, she will be still be present, for other reasons." Does that sound neutral enough? No, even that is not enough.

"Is she to be your whore?"

"No." He says firmly, but he's not entirely sure what Alys would want from him, in exchange for her prophecies, for the words she hears from the fire, for the visions presented to her in the smoke and in the storm clouds.

“But?”

“She may stay.”

“And you can’t tell me the true reason why.” You feel everything start to unravel. You and him reunited, and made your desires heard, ending in a clash of love and lust beneath the sheets. A year of longing, desperation, uncertainty, and betrayal – all seemingly resolved, somewhat, in a long night of uninhibited passion. But were you simply pretending not to see? Who he is, and who you are? Can you ever truly see eye to eye, and be together?

Aemond reaches for your hand, and you’re too weak to fend him off, even though your pride screams at you to do so.

“Please understand, my love.” His voice comes out tired. “Alys… she… can see things. She has already been of help to me in a previous battle, and if she continues to help me, I may gain enough of an advantage to finally to put an end to this fucking war, once and for all.”

“You mean…” A name comes to mind, taken from the histories which you pored over so diligently. “she’s a… witch? She has visions? That is all real?”

He nods once, “That’s the only reason why I’m not getting rid of her yet. She will never replace you. To even think such a thing is ludicrous and senseless. She’s merely a tool that I’m using to win this war, so that we may be together…”

“And how will she help you? Perhaps by telling you where Daemon or Rhaenyra might be, and when is the best time to strike, so that you may kill them? What if she says that the next step will be to kill me? What if that will turn the tide to your favour? Aemond…”

“I would never let any harm befall you.” Aemond feels insulted that you would imply such a thing. His impatience grows, and his tone sours, “Don’t you want this to cease? The Blacks will never surrender, even though they should-”

“You mean we should surrender? You would have to take me into account as well. I am part of the Blacks, after all, Aemond.”

He feels you pulling farther and farther away, but he moves closer, his face inches from yours, “You know I’m right. If that traitor Rhaenyra had only accepted the terms that my mother had presented then…”

“If only you had not chased your young nephew Lucerys while riding the world’s largest war-dragon, leading to his demise, then the rightful Queen Rhaenyra might have been more lenient in dealing with you traitors.” The words spill out you, spiteful and unrelenting, not giving any mind to how it might sound.

Clearly, that struck a nerve, and you had meant it to. The tension is overwhelming, as if one of you might draw your sword at any moment.

You wait for him to speak up and defend himself, to finally reveal his anger to you. You lean back on one heel, preparing for the onslaught.

Instead, he grabs your face roughly, and pulls you in for a searing kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, protest dying between your lips. You can’t pull away, you don’t want to. So you grab on to him with the same passion, the same desperation. Your hands unconsciously reach up to entangle in his white-golden hair. You kiss him with rage, you kiss him with love. He uses his mouth to extinguish your frustration, even if only for a moment.

And finally, all too soon, you part.

“Ñuha perzys.” My fire, he whispers against you, like a solemn prayer, “One could say that you are the bane of my existence. And, yet, you are the reason for it, as well.”

“Don’t do it. Don’t meddle with such things. You don’t need her.” You whisper, throat feeling thick with emotion, but you know he has already made up his mind. One thing that made you fall in love with Aemond was his relentlessness, his drive, after all. Though these unavoidably get misguided.

“Do you trust me?” Your face is held tightly in his hands, eyes searching yours.

“No,” you shake your head, barely, “yn, avy jorrāelan.” …but, I love you.

He nods, and as he always does, lovingly connects his forehead to yours.

For now, that is enough.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The ride back to King’s Landing was a quiet one, Aemond still reeling from the feeling of your skin on his, and the sounds emitted from your lips in the darkest hours of the night. As well as the severity of your words, but your rage only spurred his admiration on.

He had missed you, there was no doubt. He is determined not to be apart from you again, at least not for so long a time.

He has just had audience with his mother, the Lady Alicent, about his intention to put a stop to his wedding to Alys Rivers. This proposal was met with as much enthusiasm as a stern mother would allow, given one who never approved of his betrothed in the first place.

Alicent Hightower sat there, mulling over her more favoured son’s words, wondering what might have led him to making such a rushed decision.

“I realize the impropriety of it all, mother,” he said, not revealing the entirety of his reasoning. “You were right about Alys. She does not hold nearly high enough of a status to be my lady wife.”

“And how did you not come to this conclusion sooner?” Alicent asked gently. Aemond had come into her quarters unannounced, but she has always been glad for his visits. Now, even more so.

“I suppose I was acting out of spite. You’re well aware of what I think of marriage, especially in these times, when protecting our claim to the Iron Throne is most paramount. And, my being wed to a bastard of House Strong will not serve any purpose.” Aemond spat, unable to hide the disgust in his words. That disgust stemmed from Alys not being you, rather than her being a bastard, but Alicent need not know that.

“I shall inform the council of your decision. You must not act hastily again, Aemond. There are heavy costs to be incurred.” Alicent declared.

“Hmm.” Her son agreed.

“What of Lady Rivers? Shall I send for her to be taken away?”

“No, I will deal with her.” Aemond said, and Alicent was not sure what to make of that.

“Will you be keeping her, Aemond?”

Her son said nothing, resolute in staring at the flames dancing in the hearth.

She continues, “There is no need to feel ashamed if you wish to have her as a bedmate, Aemond. You are the prince, so it would be an honour for her to-”

Aemond stood abruptly, halting his mother’s words, who merely looked up at him, waiting.

“I shall take my leave now, mother.”

Alicent rose, taking his hands for a moment, before he walked out swiftly. In the back of her mind, briefly, she had thought of you. In her eyes, you had been the only woman for whom Aemond had expressed any strong affection for. She wondered if you might have influenced his decision now.

But how could you have, if you were lost to him?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I no longer wish to be wed to you. I apologize for any inconvenience or displeasure that this may cause, my lady, but I have made up my mind. You know full well that my heart was never truly in this union, and I am convinced that you have the same sentiment.”

Aemond wastes no time in making his intentions known to Alys, whom he called to his chambers after speaking with his mother.

If Alys Rivers is surprised by this declaration, her expression does not betray her. She merely sits across her now former betrothed, taking in his words.

“Aemond…” she opens her mouth to speak, but Aemond merely halts her with a raised hand.

“As for our arrangement… there is no reason for that to cease along with our betrothal. You will continue to be in service to me. You will continue to impart your visions, truthfully, so that I may win this war.”

“With all due respect, my prince Aemond,” The title always sounds lewd coming from her, as if she means to claim him by saying it, “why the fuck should I do that?”

Aemond’s gaze becomes steely and unwavering, meant to dispel any dissent coming from Alys. She may be a witch, but he will never allow her to have any power over him.

“Because, my lady, if not for me, you would have likely been raped and murdered upon our taking of Harrenhal. You owe your life to me, and as it stands, I demand your loyalty.” His voice lowers, as he continues, “Refuse, and I’ll have no further use for you. Although… the Street of Silk customarily remains in need of women of your calibre.”

The final insult hangs in the air, solidifying how Aemond views his former betrothed.

Alys’ demeanor morphs into one of acquiescence. But there was a darkness simmering within. She stands abruptly, ignoring the need to wait for his command, “Will that be all, Aemond?” No longer her Aemond, but he might have never been hers, after all.

She stares at him, one which he does not return. His mind is elsewhere. His mind is on you.

“My prince?” she asks again, frustrated by his callous ignorance of her.

“Hmm.” He wags two fingers, carelessly, in the direction of the door. Leave.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Alys had been moved from her royal quarters, into one which is smaller, in the lower levels of the palace.

Chin held high, she tried her best to ignore the whispers and penetrating stares of onlookers, as she was escorted through the halls, with her meager possessions in her arms. Word quickly spread of the prince’s decision, and the festivities were immediately put to a halt. Most of the lords and ladies could not hide their satisfaction at the dismissal of the bastard lady, whom they never favoured as their new princess.

Among all the items in her quarters, she had held on to an ornate red box, about the size of her forearm. She did not seem to mind leaving the rest, even if she was given leave to take anything she wished.

It was the miniature red trunk, one which she already had, prior to being taken from Harrenhal, that she chose to take.

As moonlight begins to bleed faintly in her small window, she holds the box open in her lap, facing the humble hearth.

Aemond did not know this, but she knew of you. The Lord of Light had opened her eyes to your existence, to your parasitic intrusion to her relationship with Aemond. The Lord of Light had whispered the truth to her. When he left the feast, some nights before, she had known that it was to see you.

It was only a matter of time, according to her Red God, before she would have to act in order to secure her position. To have a higher power over the realm. To have a permanent stake in Aemond’s heart.

And the time has come. She sees you in the night sky, a triumphant smile on your face, riding on dragonback. Through the flames, through the eyes of the Lord of Light, she sees.

The time has come. And so she begins.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You prepare to depart Horn Hill, walking towards your dragon, Fyraxes. House Tarly had called for aid, as they had been under siege by the Hightower and Lannister armies, who wanted to claim their land and resources for the Greens.

Instead of sending knights, Jacaerys had proposed coming on dragonback – a better show of force to the surrounding armies, making them measly in comparison. You had eagerly volunteered to join him, and Daemon was also quick to follow, saying, “Any chance to burn those fucking Greens, I’d happily take.”

So the three of you went, and as predicted, the Green armies stood no chance, and House Tarly remains intact and well-defended.

“Well done, Jace, Y/n.” Daemon calls out, preparing to mount his dragon as well.

“Back to Dragonstone, is it, then?” you smile, pleased about today’s small yet significant victory.

“Race you, y/n!” Jace yells, already mounted on Vermax, commanding her to fly.

“Oh no you don’t!” you hurriedly position yourself on Fryraxes, and Daemon merely laughs fondly at the two of you, “Sōvegon, Fyraxes.” Fly.

Fyraxes lifts herself off the ground, the sensation never failing to set your whole being alight. Flying on dragonback has always been as easy as breathing. You needed this. This was a form of escape from all this darkness, a way to be free. You wished you and Aemond could simply fly endlessly, to your heart’s desire.

Suddenly, Fyraxes groans, the sound reverberating throughout her body. She stops about a hundred feet above the ground, faltering, abruptly swaying from one side to the other.

“Y/n! What’s happening?” Daemon yells from Caraxes, flying just above you.

“I don’t know!” you yell back in a panic, and turn to your ailing dragon, “Skoros iksis pirta, Fyraxes? Sōvegon! Dohaeragon nyke!” What is wrong, Fyraxes? Fly! Serve me!

The words barely leave you, when you’re hit with a sudden onslaught of nausea, your vision effectively blurring. As if you’re feeling just what Fyraxes is feeling.

“Y/n!” You hear Daemon scream for you once more, more faintly now, and you can vaguely make out Caraxes flying towards you.

But it is too late. You succumb to the darkness.

And both dragon and her rider hurtle towards the ground.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

series taglist: @dazecrea @ladystardvsts @afro-hispwriter @dudfahsn @poohkie90 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @lilostif16 @deeeeexx @nephitis @minicikasworld @livimulati @the-orions-belt @stillinracooncity @lawlerek @missusnora @wickedbutlovely @umavvitch @claudie-080102 @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @puredicks @crazylokonuggett @lj127 @icarusignite @mandyki @darylandbethfanforever9 @highexpectationsgurl @whitejuliana1204 @caught-in-the-afterglow @witchmoon @meilikki @carlottalhn @xcinnamonmalfoyx @writer-lee5 @solacestyles @noneedtosearch @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mikariell95 @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @disturbing-love666 @404slayer404 @aemondswh0re @ietss @snixx2088 @inpraizeof @evye47 @schniiipsel @kellzlib @youngbunny3 @ellaash

I self-indulged and held back on the angst :) though this chapter did not end happily anyhow.

I also went ahead and named your dragon, Fyraxes, just for ease of writing.

Next chapter might be shorter and will consist of Aemond fucking. shit. up. After he finds out.

Those tagged here are for this series - let me know if you wish to be tagged for other Aemond works as well :)

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

2K notes · View notes