#BUT THE TOPICS I PULLED WERE GREAT SO I'M NOT COMPLAINING
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two-white-butterflies · 6 months ago
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gave you all my best me's (i)
Description: Aemond needs a fake-girlfriend. It's a good thing that he has leverage over his nephew's ex-girlfriend.
Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader
Notes: I wanted to rewrite this fanfic before writing a bonus chapter. I'm not a big fan of the old version of this: you're losing me. TWO PARTS SO COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.
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It is a beautiful thing to be admired for your talents, but when the media begins digging into your personal life - it is difficult to decipher where one draws a line. "When are you getting married?" The late-night host asks.
You answer him with an awkward chuckle.
Despite your social media branding - you longed for marriage, a white picket fence, and children. "There's so much more to life than getting married," you pursed your lips into a thin line. You could already see yourself in tomorrow morning's tabloids - trending on Twitter AND Tiktok with a witty hashtag.
"I agree, but for other people, it's a milestone moment for them. Is it not in your plans to get married in the future? Or is it an if it happens, it happens kind of thing?" The man continues to inquire.
You forced a smile on your face.
You did want to get married, but it's not in Jace's plans. He's the type of man who goes from hotel to hotel - the type of man who doesn't have his own apartment because he likes to act like a cowboy. Jace is the type of man who'd wear speedos with Birkenstocks. He does not ever see himself getting married, but he sees himself staying with you forever.
"I, unfortunately, don't see myself getting married. I mean respect for the people who are married, but for me, it's not really a necessity because I already see myself staying with this one person my entire life, and for me, I don't feel the need to get married." You explained, echoing the words that Jace whispered to you last night.
"- but yeah, if it happens, it happens." You rolled your eyes.
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You placed your Le Smoking YSL Jacket loudly on the table, hoping that Jacaerys would take a hint and know that you've finally arrived. It has already been three-weeks after the viral interview, and he didn't seem bothered by the attention.
"I missed you," you smiled at him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He always smells like vanilla. "- did you watch the interview?" You asked, pulling away from the embrace. He returns back to typing on his 3-year-old Macbook. "I watched it," he confirms.
You took a deep breath, which probably means that his family has already watched it. "I'm sorry my PR manager forgot to warn me. I seriously felt like a deer caught in headlights," you complained, pausing to see if he was mad.
Jacaerys is the oldest son of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. He is the scion of the two oldest families in America. His great-great-great something on both sides came to this country on the Mayflower - and thus, they took extreme precautions when it came to safeguarding their privacy. Rhaenyra was already adamant about allowing her son to write his little books, and now that you were in the picture...
"It's fine, I hope they stop asking about that marriage thing." A sigh escapes his mouth, and you can hear him clacking on his keyboard - typing without an end. "Maybe it's a sign for us to talk seriously about the topic." You begin.
"Marriage is for people-pleasers. We spend a lot of money on this one celebration where everyone gets to eat and dance, but marriage doesn't mean being with someone forever." He articulates, unable to say, that he doesn't want to repeat his parents' mistakes and that he doesn't want to live in a bickering home.
"I want to get married," you blurted out.
He responds with silence. It is obvious that he is thinking of an appropriate response - but you know that the answer is no. "I have everything that I could ever want in the world, a perfect career, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect house. The only things that I want now are marriage and babies, Jace." You continued to explain, and his face dropped to the floor.
You reach for his hands, entwining them with yours. He gazes up from his laptop, and he stares right into your eyes. "We're not going to be like your parents." You promised.
"We aren't a hundred percent sure of that. I can't even promise you everlasting love, I can't even promise you that I can love you with the same strength every day." He tilts his head. Which leads you to believe that the only reason he hasn't married you yet - is because he doesn't love you at all.
"I know, but you choose me every day. You choose us every day, and that is the same thing as love." You persuaded.
You could sense the reluctance in his movements. "We're fighting all the time. I haven't seen you in almost a month. Getting married is not going to fix our problems." His voice softens. He loves you with all of his heart, but he doesn't know how to show that love without first ruining it.
"Let's break up," he proposed.
He was expecting you to say no, like all the other times before, but this time - you retreat silently. You grab your things and you leave his hotel room.
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archiebald22: OMG WHY?? DIDN'T SHE JUST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH JIMMY FALLON 😭
pussydaposi: This is my roman empire
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(ONE YEAR LATER)
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nameofficial: I Love You, I'm Sorry OUT NOW!
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sacramentoLove: When are you gonna pay ur taxes 🇪🇸
Destination12: Shakira x Y/N Collab cuz they both don't pay taxes to the Spanish government
oompaloompa: Y/N singing bella ciao link in bio 😭
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"Who's the guy?" You whispered in Lucie's ears, and she turned around to look at the man who had been staring at you for the past five minutes. "Holy fuck, that's Aemond Targaryen. His family literally owns half of Texas." She whisper-shouted.
It didn't help with the fact that the man was smoking hot. Lucie stares at her phone for half a minute. "Wait, can I leave alone for just a second? Cecil forgot to bring his polo, and the receptionist is not letting him in." She groaned. "I'll be fine," you gave her a slight smile.
Lucie leaves your side, and Aemond begins walking towards you. "(Your Name)," you introduced yourself with a smile. "Aemond Targaryen," he shakes your hand.
This could be the beginning of something new...something different. "You don't look like the type of person who'd spend her weekends in old country clubs," he smiles charmingly. "I came here with my friend, Lucie. She's supposed to have a date with this guy, but he seems to have forgotten the rule of the country club." You chuckled.
Aemond tilts his head softly, and he whispers. "Always wear a shirt with a collar." He laughs.
"It's such a preposterous rule, I bet you that I'll have to hear about her boyfriend's expensive suit and how it is preposterous that he wasn't allowed inside." You giggled.
"I bet you that the staff doesn't get paid enough to deal with people like them," he led you to another part of the gardens. This part was exclusive only to esteemed members of the club, which probably means that this Aemond fellow is important. "I heard that a beautiful singer was going to be here. I had to my brother's golfcart to make it in the Clubhouse in time," his eyes narrowed.
Of course, the people that he heard those sentiments from weren't exactly appreciative of your presence. It was one of his mother's cousins who said something about these idiotic celebrities eating in the place where they were eating. "Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat their words. I bet you that Lucie is scandalized for bringing me," you snorted.
You hate spending time around these old money folks. In your eyes, they've spent the majority of their wealth, and the only thing that they have left is their snootyness. "They're all idiots anyways," Aemond rolls his eyes, pleased that you weren't one of those cunts who'd kiss ass to the wealthy.
His phone rings, and he reaches for the call card inside of his wallet. "I'd love to take you out on dinner sometimes, not here, but you choose where to eat. Please call me as soon as possible," he placed a hand on your shoulder.
He bids farewell, realizing that his business partners were calling him already.
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It was a surprise to see that Aemond had a follow-through; the next day, he had already arranged a dinner with you. "I honestly had no idea where you'd want to eat. I mean, I'm sorry for bringing you to this small diner." You chuckled.
Rich people can be so banal sometimes, they eat at the same five restaurants, they wear the same clothes from the same five ateliers, and they all go to the same yoga studio, for goodness sake. You knew that if you wanted Aemond to consider you worthy of his attention - you needed to stick out. Which leads you to this diner, the real heart of NYC.
"It's beautiful. I've never been here before." He looks around with an appreciative smile. "I used to eat here a lot when I was a college student, I couldn't afford anything else - and the food here seriously tastes better than some Michelin restaurants. It's nice here, it feels so ... raw." You struggled to find the words.
The food was amazing, but the community that this diner constantly fed - it's a thing for the books. The cab drivers, the hotdog stand sellers, and the college students. It is home. "It must be hard being famous," he shoves a piece of pizza inside of his mouth.
You licked your lips.
"I've been famous for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to live without all of the cameras." You pierced the pancake with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "I need your help." He places both of his hands on the table.
"Where?" Your eyebrows merged together.
"My father is dying. He says that he'll leave his entire inheritance to the first person who gets married in our family. My siblings and my nephews are fighting for that spot, seeing that my older sister doesn't want any ties with us. Now, I know that there are cases against you by the Spanish government, and I can make all of that go away," Aemond offers.
"I'd love to help you but I'm really good at making mistakes," your eyes narrowed, weighting in your choices.
His eyes softened.
"The only mistake that you've made is allowing your father to control your finances. He's in jail now, and if you're not going to fix yourself, you're going to end up there too." He says.
You play with the rings on your finger, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. "So, I marry you, and you clear up all my charges?" You inquired.
"I fake our marriage, clear up your name, and give you $10 million to start again." He corrects.
"Alright then," you hummed. "Do we have a deal?" You smile.
He shakes your hand.
"We have a deal," he confirms.
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Being in a pretend relationship with Aemond was honestly one of the easiest things that you've ever done. He makes it really hard not to fall in love with him. The way that he places his hands inside of his pockets, the way that he gives you the sweetest smile - it almost makes you think that his feelings are genuine. It is not, you remind yourself.
You flick through the rack of dresses in front of you. "What are your parents like? Are they traditional, or are they as laid back as you?" You questioned. He pauses for a while, trying to find the words that would properly describe his parents.
"My dad is a traditional man. He likes guns, and he believes in the Second Amendment. He's a senile old man. My mother, however, is trendy, and she's warm up to you." He informs.
"Tell me more about your family," you pressed.
You needed to be prepared for this battle.
"My older brother is an armchair socialist. He's always complaining to our mother about some animals dying. He's a vegetarian, although he always orders Chipotle on Fridays. His morality is a grey compass," Aemond snorts.
You giggle too.
"Helaena, my older sister. She's my second older sister. I think she's the person that Aegon thinks he is. She's too busy running this non-profit for refugees, but you don't need to worry about her, she's kind." He comforts.
"Then, I have a little brother, Daeron. He doesn't like us. He'd much rather spend time with our uncle." He turns to look away. Your eyes land on the vintage white dress you've seen in Lucie's wardrobe, it's a dress that Chanel never showed the general populace. An iconic piece, but not famous enough that it would seem tacky.
His hands snake around your waist. "What?" Your eyebrows merged together, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, subtly pointing at the paparazzi that were standing outside of the boutique door. "Kiss me," he says, pulling your body closer - until you could smell his cologne.
"You are so demanding," you teased, reaching to cup his cheeks. Standing on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips together. The paparazzi outside of the door were caught in a frenzy, flashing lights of all colors greeted you.
He tastes like cherries and diet coke. It's intoxicating. A taste that is so different on your tongue. You pull away from the kiss - and he pretends to gasp at the sight of the paps outside of the door. "Let's go," he mouthed - pulling you into a deeper part of the store, where the media couldn't see.
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ynkittens: (fan sent the picture) Y/N L/N with mystery man in NYC. Who is this man???
liked by 92,239 others
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DoodleCop: OH MY GOD I miss her and Jace 🥺
YNNationSupport9: Stop, you're losing me
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Aemond stares at his phone, an indescribable frown on his face as it continues to vibrate due to the number of notifications sent to his personal account. "I didn't expect your fans to be this crazy," he mumbled, seeing his face shared all around Instagram.
"You did tell me that our relationship needed to be public to be believable," your eyes narrowed. "Yeah but now they're calling my personal number," he shows you his phone.
An amused chuckle exits your mouth.
"If you can't handle the smoke, don't start the fire." You shoved a piece of pastry inside of your mouth. Aemond slumps on the blue cloud couch and turns his phone off. He has been staying in your apartment for the past month now, after the whole scenario with the paparazzi the studio apartment that he was renting was no longer safe.
"Helaena has been blasting my other phone since yesterday. She's a really big fan of you," he smiles, pulling you closer to him until you are laying on his lap. "She sounds amazing, when are we going to meet?" You inquired, reaching for a book on the coffee table.
His fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots that your hairbrush couldn't fix. "Maybe tomorrow during the family reunion? She kind of just shows up," he says.
He couldn't deny your beauty. As time grows, he slowly finds himself loving everything about you...from your gentleness to your fickle mindedness. You weren't satisfied with making a decision without first looking at every possible perspective. When someone does a bad deed, you say well, maybe it isn't their fault, maybe it's the way that society has treated them.
Even when the situation proves to be difficult, you still choose to be kind. It's just a summer thing, he tells himself because nothing beautiful ever chooses him. All the good things wilt in his hands.
He flicks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm a little nervous about tomorrow," you admit. "- I've never felt like I belonged, you know what I mean?" You scrunched up your nose, and he continued to massage your scalp.
"I'm so hesitant when it comes to attending these parties because when I was a kid, my dad took us to one of his black tie parties, and my mom let me wear this beautiful unicorn dress, but apparently, the black-tie rule was for everyone, regardless of age. The host didn't want me to go inside the halls with my pink glittery dress because it didn't reach past my ankles...one of my cousins pitied me so much. She let me borrow her dress, but it was too big on me." You flinched at the faint memory.
"I had to sit beside my mom the entire time, and all of the kids were staring at me like I had a third leg." Your teeth burrowed into your lower lips. "That sounds horrible," he frowns. "Which is why I promised to never look unfashionable ever again..." You say.
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nameofficial: our secret moments, in a crowded room. @aemondtargaryensapphires
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MaybeThisTime3: Rue, when was this?
aemondtargaryensapphires: ❤️‍🔥👸🏻 - nameofficial: ❤️
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Lucerys stuffs a large amount of vanilla ice cream inside of his mouth. "Did you check Instagram?" He teases his brother, continuing to play on his Nintendo Switch - almost smearing an entire spoonful of vanilla on the screen.
"Can you stop being annoying for five seconds?" Jacaerys rolled his eyes.
"He is so bothered," Joffrey giggled while scrolling on his phone. "I am not bothered," Jacaerys gritted his teeth.
"He's not bothered, but he's turning red!" Lucerys piped in once again. "I wonder if he'll take her to the reunion." Joffrey ponders, and a sigh escapes the oldest brother's mouth. Give you my wild. Give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Now, the only thing he's answered with is a different type of silence.
It's neither of your fault that the relationship ended. It was just too much of a chasm, your personalities were too different. You were the type of person to fight for the relationship, the type of person who disobeyed fate, and he is the opposite of that.
Because if something is meant to be, then the whole universe conspires for you to have it by your side. If it is meant to be - you wouldn't need to fight for it.
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You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees, it was embroidered with Swarovski crystals, truly a miracle that the dress ever held up. "Remember the story, I proposed on the beach, we didn't bring any cameras." He whispered, and you could sense his nervousness.
The car continues to drive inside a long entryway that curves to the side, you are greeted with tall bushes that cover the facade of the mansion. As you reach the third turn, the beautiful mansion is made known to you.
It was truly a sight to behold.
A mixture of French and Italian architecture was made even richer by the aged bricks that were used in constructing the estate. The mansion was about the same size as Central Park. It was clear that Aemond Targaryen was richer than God.
"You said family reunion," your lips pursed into a thin line. He gives you a stare, telling you that he didn't expect this many guests either. "My father must've invited his golfing buddies," he explains, regaining his composure.
He reaches for a box inside of his pockets. He opens it, showing you a beautiful emerald oval ring, a ring that is simple and elegant - a ring like you. "Are you ready to meet the vipers?" He smirks, placing the ring on your ring finger.
A doorman begins to open the doors to the car.
"If we wait until I'm ready, we'll be waiting forever." You plastered a smile on your face, straightening your posture, and exiting the car - making sure that everyone's eyes were on you.
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Jace freezes as he sees the faint silhouette of your body. His relationship with you ended on good terms; he was happy with the outcome, but seeing you a year later - brings him back to pleasant and unpleasant memories. He partly wishes that he was stupid enough to his ex-girlfriend, but he is smarter than that.
He knows that the only time that he was ever truly happy was when he was with you, and now you've left him. Now, the only thing that brings him back to those pleasant memories are the songs that you've written about him.
What a horrible day to be alive.
His jaw clenches, watching as his uncle's hands snake around your waist, the very same waist that his hand used to fit like a perfect puzzle in. He watches as Aemond leans to whisper something in your ear, and you giggle. He bets that the joke isn't funny at all.
"Isn't that (Your Name)?" Rhaenyra inquires, and suddenly, Jacaerys' hand feels clammy around the champagne flute. He desperately wants to puke. Rhaenyra's eyes softened instantly, heart heaving for her oldest son. "Oh Jace," she cooed and he forced a smile on his face - he took a lazy sip of his champagne, and the drink bubbles in his stomach.
"I'm alright, mom." He insists.
Jace still cannot understand why his heart longs for you. He has everything he wants - he has everything that you prevented him from achieving because you dreamed of marriage. Why is he missing the shackles that he allowed destiny to remove?
Aemond begins to march in his direction, a satisfied grin on the other man's face. Could he have known? Jace asks himself. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you, and the other hand on a glass of merlot. Aemond was absolutely glowing.
"Uncle Aemond," Jace answered.
"Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, half-expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew, as you have done to all of his relatives, but he was greeted with silence. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Aemond and his nephew. "Uncle?" your eyebrows merged together.
"I'm too young to be an uncle. My sister had him early." He informs. "I didn't expect you to be here," Jace says plainly as if Aemond was not standing right beside you. "I could say the same thing," you replied, your grip on Aemond tightens.
Something shimmery on your fingers catches Jacaerys' eyes. An engagement ring. An oval emerald engagement ring - like the color that the other side of his family proudly wore. "Congratulations on the engagement," he greets, forcing himself to be happy. Marriage is the only thing that you didn't agree on with him - he found it useless, you found it monumental.
"Thank you," you and Aemond say in unison.
"When she's the one wrapped around your fingers, you have to make a fist." Aemond stares at your face. Jace could only hum in return, his throat felt dry again. "I know the feeling," he takes a sip of his champagne.
He curses himself for still having these feelings for you. He should have fought against the world to have you beside him. He should have taken you dancing, bowling, skating, singing - but he didn't, because he was too engrossed in his own little world, unaware that everything was unfolding outside of his bedroom window.
He takes another deep breath, the world is bigger than the stories inside of his laptop. He can't believe that it has taken him this long to figure that out.
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"Can you please sing something?" Helaena requests, flashing you her puppy eyes. You turned to look around you, and everyone was looking in your direction. Viserys raises an eyebrow as if asking for you to sing.
Daeron hands you one of his acoustic guitars.
"Do you have any song in mind?" You inquired, prepared to sing one of your love songs. "How did it end!" Helaena cheers, pulling Morghul (her dog) on her lap.
"That's a nice song that you've chosen," you forced a smile on your face. Of course, she chooses the one song about your breakup with Jace.
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aemondtargaryensapphires: beautiful ❤️
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helaenatargaryen: YOU ARE SO FAST WITH THESE HAHA
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Jace watches as the waiters begin to serve their food. It was a gourmet meal provided by his step-father's fine dining restaurant, the food was beautiful, and it had the right color. You couldn't help but feel out of place - like the girl who wore a unicorn dress to a black-tie event.
"I'm allergic, I can't eat this." You whispered, flashing Aemond a concerned look. "Sorry, Aemond was the one who confirmed the samples." Rhaenyra's voice sounded apologetic, and sad because she was the one who planned the entire event. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled.
"How long have you known each other?" Jace blurts out, swirling the champagne in his glass. The first thing that couples do while knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him thousands of times, wouldn't Aemond know about your likes and dislikes?
"Nine months, and it's alright, you can have Aegon's salad. He only pretends to be vegan." Aemond switches your place with Aegon's who is currently occupied in the bathroom. "Thank you," you mumbled.
"Your brother is going to throw a fit once he sees that," Alicent interrupts. "Mom he won't even notice," Helaena looks at you with hearts on her eyes.
Jace could only raise his eyebrows. Nine months and, his uncle wasn't aware that you're allergic to lamb sauce. He bets that Aemond doesn't even know that your eyebrows merge together when you're angry. He bets that the other man doesn't even know that your favorite game is Overcooked, and you refuse to move to the next stage when you fail to reach all three stars.
He's losing you to a man that hardly knows you.
"Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes in, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "In the country club," Aemond smiles. He looks at you like you are the earth, and he is nothing but a moon that rotates around you. "Her friend Lucie Churchill, she introduced us to each other," Aemond lies.
Alicent smiles, a look of adoration on her face. Aemond has chosen the best possible woman to fall in love with, a woman who's mantle is heavy with her own achievements. "When are you getting married?" She chimes in, happy with the idea of having grandbabies.
"Soon, I've always wanted a summer wedding." You answered coyly. You glanced at him, and suddenly, this summer thing was beginning to look real. "The good ones never wait," Aemond smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
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Jace enters the balcony, seeing that you are sipping wine on your own and staring at the French skyline. The dress that you were wearing was now slightly wrinkled, and the ring on your finger was slightly loose.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"Sure about what?" You asked with a rough voice.
"My uncle," his lips are pursed into a thin line. He looks for a glimmer of hope behind your eyes, but it is too far.
He is too late to bring this love back to life.
"He's the only thing that I'm sure of," you answered.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and your eyebrows merge together. "Sorry for what?" You scoffed.
"I'm sorry that I didn't fight for us." He continues. "- it was always doomed from the beginning. I could never have asked you to make that sacrifice for me. I didn't accept it at first, but that just wasn't the life for you." You finished.
"But if I asked you back then, you would have made that sacrifice for me, so I'm sorry for not being what you needed." He says, slowly walking out of the balcony, completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.
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nameofficial: I can't help falling in love with you... ❤️ This is the beginning of forever baby 💍
liked by 2,129,391 others
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ynkittens: wait did u get married? - nameofficial: Engaged. I'm sorry for not making it clear in the caption haha 😭
JacintaRobin: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like" aint for JACK IN A BOX bcs it's for mr aemond - Bananashake44: Aemond the literal alpha male??? THE SIGMA GIGA CHAD ??? THE ULTIMATE RIZZLER
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PART TWO
@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore@sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas
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goquokka00 · 4 months ago
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SKZ vs Shark Week (Jeongin ver.)
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How would each member of Stray Kids handle you while you're on your period?
BANGCHAN | MINHO | CHANGBIN | HYUNJIN JISUNG | FELIX | SEUNGMIN | JEONGIN
WARNING: This is a female reader going through their period. If the topic of a period/anything that has to do with a period makes you uncomfortable, then don't read it. Just remember that there's nothing wrong with a woman's period. It's a perfectly healthy body function :)
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THE MOODS When it got close to your period approaching, you always tended to get really fatigued. Sometimes it'd be constant, you not wanting to get up and do much. But other times, it would come on in random waves. That was how Jeongin knew you were close to getting on your period.
He never really complained though. Usually, he'd just make sure you were comfortable and doing things you needed to, like eat or drink water. If you've eaten, great! If not, he'd get you something to eat and sit with you and feed you until you've actually eaten it. The same thing went with hydration.
He knew that a lot of times, you got so fatigued, you'd just forget to get up and eat or drink. And so he made sure that he was on you about that. But any other time, he was happily beside you, letting you lean on him while watching that documentary about a criminal, or while you were on your phone scrolling through social media.
THE BLOOD Thankfully, your flow wasn't horrible. Yeah, it fluctuated, but it wasn't too heavy or too light. It was a good medium. However, if you didn't watch it or weren't careful, you still ran the risk of leaking. How wonderful.
Jeongin understood that, too. Did he understand how to help you? ....no. But anything you needed; he'd happily do for you. You wanted cuddles? Sure. You needed his hoodie? He had you covered. You needed him to run and grab a single pad from your bathroom because you didn't realize your period started and used the wrong bathroom? He was on it.
THE PAIN There wasn't a whole lot of pain that you went through while you were on your period. What you did have was mass amounts of bloating, and that bloating also got you to feel nauseous. And that made you not want to eat. And so, Jeongin took it upon himself to make sure you were taken care of.
He'd call one of his hyungs that knew how to cook (he usually leaned toward Minho or Chan) and would ask about meals that would be good for when someone who was nauseous. And after explaining that he was fine, they'd give him some recipes. And from there, he'd attempt to make them to the best of his ability. Was he good at cooking? ....no. But he did manage with your guidance.
And once you were fed, he'd try and do different remedies to help you with your bloating. He'd rub your stomach, holding you close and giving you some lemon lime soda to try and get you to burp. And he never judged you for it, either. In fact, to make it fun, he'd rank the burps you gave, giving you feedback on them. Because why not?
THE PRODUCT Jeongin is THE ONLY MEMBER who I can see not being comfortable with going and getting you products from the store. He would blatantly just say to your face, "I love you. Truly. But this is the ONE thing I'm not doing for you."
Why? He felt too much embarrassment going and getting that stuff for you. Even though he knew it meant you were healthy and all that, he still just couldn't get him to do it. IT was him, not you. But what he would do instead is give you money for you to go and buy your products with. And he'd also go out and buy any snacks or drinks that you'd want or need.
And as far as used products went, it was a definite uneasiness. But he was also too shy to say anything about it up front. Yes, he was uncomfortable, but he also kept in mind that you were going through a lot more than him. So for you, he'd pull up his big boy pants and suck it up.
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Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️
Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d @skzlover24
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.
He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."
"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.
"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."
Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."
Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong. 
"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.
"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."
"Okay, but-"
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"
You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now. 
Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."
You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head. 
"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."
"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.
"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."
"Bradley, I don't want that one either."
He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"
"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."
He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."
You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."
He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.
"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"
"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air. 
"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.
"I'm pregnant!" 
"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"
He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.
Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo." 
He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."
You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."
-----------------------
You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."
Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."
He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"
"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose. 
"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence. 
You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."
"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."
"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."
He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"
You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"
With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."
And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.
"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"
"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."
"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."
"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.
"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."
Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."
"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"
Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."
You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself. 
Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."
"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."
Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."
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Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day. 
But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable. 
"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."
You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."
"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"
You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."
"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.
"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."
Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."
"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."
"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."
You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers. 
"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 
He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."
As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?
He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."
"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."
"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."
You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."
------------------------------
"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"
He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."
You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.
As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."
"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."
You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"
"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."
He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."
You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs. 
"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."
You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession. 
"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley. 
He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath. 
"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"
You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."
Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum. 
"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going. 
It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.
You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.
He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"
You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch. 
"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?" 
You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."
He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"
"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.
"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."
"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."
He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back. 
"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."
"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck. 
You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.
It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."
Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."
You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly. 
"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart." 
When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked. 
He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.
"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."
You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him. 
He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"
"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."
"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."
A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.
"You can't stop touching me, can you?"
"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."
"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early. 
"What?"
Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face. 
"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.
If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up. 
"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.
"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."
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A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 28
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rosvaline · 21 days ago
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STORIES FROM MY YOUTH; NERO
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TOPIC: Nothing bad happened. Sparda returned that day, in time to save his family. Nothing bad happened. Eva tells 15-year-old Nero what stupid things Vergil did.
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"Don't worry so much, my dear" Eva's calm voice rang out after opening the door to her grandson's bedroom.
"I'm not worried" he immediately denied, sighing on the bed.
"You worry, you worry. But you see, there are some things you don't know" a mysterious smile appeared on her face. She slowly walked over to Nero's bed, album in hand, sitting down by his hip.
"I think there are quite a few. But grandma, what can I say? Uncle is the stupid one - I mean... You know" he laughed, a little nervously, scratching his hair.
"Oh, you'll be surprised. Dante just likes to talk about it. And Vergil... he wasn't any better than him" she smiled gently, tucking her legs under her and opening the album.
"You can't be serious" he snorted, unable to imagine his dad being as stupid as his uncle.
"I'm very serious. You're a great example of that," she smiled softly, pointing to a photo of Nero and Vergil on his birthday.
Nero just turned his head to the side, wrinkling his nose, a little confused.
"Oh, he didn't tell you?" she laughed, almost innocently.
"About what?"
"Do you know how old they are?" she turned her head to the side, a little in disbelief that Dante hadn't once joked about it.
"Well, not really... Dad always told my uncle to shut up. I thought he didn't want to feel old," he stated, thinking for a moment about how every time Dante brought up their age, Vergil would throw something at him.
"When you were born, my dear, they were 19," she said calmly.
Nero looked at her, in disbelief. He analyzed it for a moment, looking for a funny joke, but he couldn't see anything.
"Seriously?" Nero couldn't help but laugh.
"Totally. Grandpa let him go on his 18th birthday to travel. He came back from it, with you," she explained calmly, patting his knees.
"Oh, so dad complains about me coming home after 9:00 PM, gets grounded for it, and he came back with a kid when he was only 19? Absolutely not funny," he said, folding his arms across his chest. Eva just laughed, remembering how Dante did that every time he was offended.
"Something like that, Angel," she settled comfortably next to her grandson. Her body wasn't in the shape it once was, but raising twins and then helping raise her grandson had cost her some of her youth.
"It's... Unfair" Nero finally said, looking at the wall of his room, as if he hoped the wall would answer him.
"I won't deny it. However, Dad does everything to protect you" she embraced the boy gently and pulled him into a hug.
"I know, I know... But still. These stupid rules" he sighed, resting his head against Eve.
"It's hard to disagree. However, to make this punishment more pleasant for you" she said, cutting off mid-sentence and placing an album on her lap, a very old album "I'll show you something" she opened it to the first photos.
"Dad and Dante have always been very different. But if there is something that connected them for many years it was getting into trouble" she pointed to photos of the young twins, most often in the mud or poking each other. "Vergil could pretend as much as he wanted, but everyone knew he loved arguing with Dante and fighting, that's just their nature. Constant rivalry in every area."
Nero looked with interest at the album he had never seen before. He listened as his grandmother told him about his father and uncle, people who in his eyes were completely different, with no similarities.
"I still remember how Vergil came back a bit dissatisfied on the first day of school," she laughed, scrolling through the album pages to the photos from elementary school. "As you know, uncle is... Quite chaotic and loves people. When finally, when they were 10, we decided to let them go to school, Dante couldn't get enough of the crowd of people he could talk to, run around in the yard. Socializing your uncle wasn't a problem... Unlike dad. When they came back, Dante had a lot of stories, and Vergil looked almost offended and abandoned..." She smiled gently, remembering her children's youth. It felt like yesterday, and yet she was telling it to her grandson.
"Didn't he read poetry or something to ignore his uncle?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Vergil often read his favorite poetry book when he felt lost or lonely. That's why he carried it with him throughout elementary and high school. And he left with it too," she said calmly, kissing Nero's hair in a caring manner. "Dante had better connections at school and more friends, and Vergil had excellent grades. Although I won't deny it, I still remember him fighting some boy to the point of blood because he was bullying a girl a year younger than him," she laughed quietly, moving to the other pages of the album.
"And I'm talking about Aunt Lady," she laughed, pointing to the 16 year old Lady standing between a smiling Dante and a tired looking cat Vergil. "They were 17 years old then and from then on Dante made it his mission to watch Lady's back. And he did it until the end of high school and later when they started working together as demon hunters" she laughed, looking at the pictures of the three of them, unable to look away for a moment.
She wished she could go back to when her sons were little boys.
"So... Dad got into a fight?" Nero muttered under his breath. He didn't suspect that his father... well, was aggressive, in any way.
"You could say that. And more than once" she laughed seeing Nero's surprised expression.
"He wasn't much different from Dante in his teenage years, if we're talking about things like that. There were just a lot fewer of them and his grades were better than Dante's. Definitely better," she laughed. "That was always a problem. And honestly, Dante was always talented, but too lazy and preferred to copy others to have time for his electric guitar and motorbike." Nero laughed to himself at the memory of the guitar and motorbike. He remembered well how his dad had yelled at his uncle for taking Nero for a ride when he was 10.
"He always had his priorities, didn't he?" Nero sighed, picking up the album and scrolling through the pages. "Who's that?" He asked, pointing at a blonde woman who looked like Eva, but a little different.
"Oh, about her some other time, Nero, trust me. It's... a difficult subject," she smiled, apologetically, scrolling a few pages further and pointing to a picture. "This was taken about a year before you were born. Graduation, back then, your dear father had not slept at all. He spent the whole night reading new poetry books he had received because of his good grades. He looked awful after an hour of sleep. Dante couldn't stop laughing at him," she shook her head, remembering how she had applied makeup under Vergil's eyes so he wouldn't look so bad. "He had to ride a motorcycle with Dante then, because he couldn't drive. And Dante didn't want to ride in his car, stubbornly stating that he should ride a motorcycle with him, that he would wake up. And... He wasn't wrong" she laughed, pulling Nero closer to her.
One of the photos showed Vergil as if he was about to throw up, with his hair flying in every direction and his tie slightly loose. On top of that, a few buttons on his shirt were undone. Dante stood next to him, as if he was all that kept Vergil on his feet.
"Is that what he looked like at the end of the year?" he laughed, unable to believe that it was really his eternally well-prepared and organized father.
"Yes. But Lady managed to organize him to a decent degree" she laughed, scrolling through the next photos, where Vergil looked like a perfect student, flawless. Dante was still standing next to him, barely holding back his laughter.
"Aunt Lady is amazing. How did she put up with them?" she laughed, looking at the next photo, where Dante stood proudly, hugging Lady, and Vergil just stood there with no expression on his face except tiredness.
"I guess my cookies, teas, and Dante's charm" she laughed. At first she wasn't sure if Lady was a good friend for Dante, but after a while she realized that her son needed a woman with a really strong and maybe a little aggressive personality to put up with him, while also being a true friend.
"Oh yes, your cookies are the best thing there is!" he laughed.
"Don't sugarcoat it for me" she laughed, kissing Nero on the temple. "But as you can see, your father wasn't as saintly as he tries to be. He did a lot of stupid things, but about the worst ones... you have to ask Dante. He'll know the worst details" she laughed, stroking Nero's hair and hugging him close.
They spent the next few minutes like that, just looking through the photos. Nero mostly focused his gaze on the blonde, mentally noting that he had to ask Dante about her.
In my opinion, Vergil would be just as problematic, if not more so, when it comes to high school life😭
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chiaraswritings · 2 years ago
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I feel like AT the restaurant they go to, Batmom goes into labor. She feels her first contraction, then spills her water on herself from the shock of it. Bruce does not believe her and they bicker about it with Y/N going “would I REALLY lie about this!?” And her husband gives her a look. Then she starts debating if it was gas or a contraction, or what have you.
It isn’t till Alfred comes back from the bathroom that the rush would start.
Batprank (Pt. 2)
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Very light argument, pregnancy, pranking, contractions, labor, delivery, newborn, parents holding newborn. 18+. If these are sensitive topics for you, go ahead and skip this one.
Word Count: 2K words
Summary: Batmom!reader goes into labor at her favorite restaurant and gives birth to her baby with her husband close by in Wayne Manor.
Author's Note: You guys crack me up, great part two idea, anon. It's pretty light-hearted at first, but towards the end of the story, I included a birth scene. I've never gotten to have a home birth, so I apologize if there were inaccuracies. Let me know if you want a part three. Thank you for all the incredible support, and I hope you enjoy.
Listen on Spotify while you read…
Part One
Warm August sun tickled my nose as I stepped out of the car, taking a little more time than I was comfortable admitting, caused by nearly nine months of pregnancy's effect on my stomach. Not that I was complaining. I  was thrilled to be having Bruce's baby. It fulfilled the desire to be a mother that I'd had for years, and to be having a child with the love of my life? A fairytale come true. Even if we couldn't agree on baby names, even when I pulled labor pranks on my husband, even when I was being bombarded with concern by all our family members, especially our children. Earlier in the afternoon I had played a tremendous joke on all our family members, except for the all-knowing Alfred, pretending to have gone into labor. It was very convincing, and somehow we wound up at my favorite diner in the process of driving to the hospital. 
I joined my husband in the empty restaurant. It was three o'clock, the last customers of the lunch rush were slowly shuffling out the door, and it looked like the dinner rush had not yet made an appearance. I smiled at him as I intertwined my fingers with his, sliding into the booth next to him where he waited for the takeout order he had just put in.
"You could've waited in the car, it'll be ready soon," he pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I smiled, practically melting into his embrace, laying my hand on my stomach. 
"That's okay, I kinda wanted water while we wait for it." I gave my husband a quick look. 
"Heh, and I'm guessing you need me to get that for you?"
"Obviously, you got me pregnant, now you get to take care of me." I slid out of the booth to allow him access to the soda fountain, tapping my foot in mock impatience. 
"You scared me to death with that prank of yours earlier, don't push it," he chuckled, rising and pressing a kiss to my cheek before going to retrieve my water. 
I rolled my eyes at him, sitting back down in the booth, still with a playful smile on my face. "I love you, Bruce."
"Uh-huh." He set the cup of water on the table in front of me before leaning down to place a loving kiss on my lips. As I returned the kiss, our order number was called from the front counter. "I'll be right back."
"Okay," I smiled and turned to the water cup in front of me, sipping from it and relaxing against the faux leather seat. I drummed my fingers against my stomach and thought about our unborn daughter, just as I had every day for the last six months. How happy Bruce would look when he held her for the first time. How her little fingers and toes would look. How excited Alfred and the kids would be to hear that she was finally born. It'd been a long and interesting journey for all of us, and it would soon come to its end. 
The realization that the kids were still at home in a state of panic hit me harder than a cold pool on a hot summer day. "Shit," I muttered, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Stephanie's number. She was the most likely to answer, I knew, and I was right.
"Hello?!" The excited squeal made me pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. 
"Hello, Stephanie, I just wanted to let you all know... could you put the call on speaker, please?" 
“Yeah! Okay, there you go, tell us what’s happening!” Stephanie’s excitement was pouring through the speaker of my phone like water. 
“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?!” I could hear Jason’s voice, much more awake than when we had left the manor to rush to the hospital.
“I figured I needed to let you guys all know that my going into labor was a-” at that very moment I felt it, a long, drawn-out and yet sharp pain moving through my lower abdomen. It stunned me nearly into silence, accidentally spilling half of the contents of my water cup onto my lap. It almost felt like the horrible menstrual cramps that I hadn’t felt for such a long time.
“Mom? It was a what?” Tim’s voice broke through the pause. 
“Oh, not a prank, not a prank, not a prank!” I groaned as the pain rippled through my lower stomach. Not that it was unmanageable, it was just so surprising and… a tiny bit terrifying. No, it was very terrifying. The due date wasn’t for two more weeks, I didn’t expect this, I hadn’t mentally prepared, this was truly scary.
“Not a prank?” It was Tim again. “What do you mean, we know that.” 
“I didn’t mean anything!” I took two deep breaths as the sharp pain faded into a dull throb, then almost disappeared. “Just… forget I said anything! We’ll give you an update soon, love you lots, bye,” I ended the call before the curious group on the other end could get another word in. 
As I set down the phone on the table with a thud, my husband arrived by my side with a plastic bag. “Are you ready to… what’s wrong?” He set it down, kneeling to inspect my tense face.
“I… I think I just got a contraction,” I whispered, looking over to him. 
Bruce looked from my face, to the spilled water in my lap, then back to my face before standing. “Nice try, honey, let’s get going.”
“No! No, I mean it!” I looked up at him, grabbing his hand with mine in a death grip. “I’m not kidding this time. I’m not. You have to believe me.”
My husband looked at me for a moment before kneeling next to me again. “(Y/N), are you being serious? You know the story of the boy who cried wolf, don’t you?”
“Would I really lie about this, Bruce?!” I looked down at my stomach and pressed my fingers to the underside. “I swear, I felt it, I felt a contraction!” 
My statement was met with a look of doubt. “(Y/N), we’re two weeks away from the due date, I’m sure it was just… gas or discomfort, it couldn’t have been a contraction.” 
I returned his look with a withering glance. “Bruce Wayne, I swear, that was not gas. I think I’d know the difference.” 
“Honey, you can’t be having contractions yet…” Bruce’s confidence was starting to crack. He gave my stomach a worried look. 
“Oh yes I can, you know that babies can come anytime they choose.”
“Was that the only one?”
“Yeah, that was the only one.”
“Then… it was probably just…” 
“Master Bruce, Madam (Y/N), we had better start moving if we want to miss the rush hour,” Alfred’s calm voice broke through Bruce’s thought. He had stepped into the restaurant in search of us, given that we were ordering takeout, not dining in.
“Alfred! Alfred, I think I got a contraction, we have to call the midwife right now.” I stood, using the table for support. My husband handed off the plastic bag of food to Alfred, catching my arm to assist me. 
“Will we be heading home or to the hospital, sir?” Alfred quirked an eyebrow towards Bruce, just as skeptical as he was. 
“We’ll… let’s call the midwife in the car and go from there.” Bruce looked at me, starting to believe my words.
“Yes, let’s… just get her on the phone, please.” 
...
A few minutes later, we were heading back to the manor. The midwife had advised me to remain in a comfortable space to monitor my contractions on my own, to see if it was really gas, false labor, or the real thing. The original plan was to give birth in the manor, unless something unexpected (such as my water breaking before my due date) occurred. The midwife and her birth team assured me that they were just a phone call away, and with that in mind, we started driving back towards the manor. 
Bruce did everything to make sure I was comfortable, in the car and back in our bedroom once we had arrived home. The kids crowded around me at first, until a growl and firm command from Bruce sent them all back to their rooms. I was resting in our large, plush bed, my hand resting on my stomach, when the next contraction made its way through my body, then the next, then the next, still minutes apart, but becoming more and more consistent. Now that Bruce was convinced that I was actually going into labor, he was the most attentive husband on earth, holding me close with one arm and keeping his other hand on my stomach. 
“I knew this was going to happen, but… I didn’t think that it’d happen so soon,” I looked up at him, trying to relax after a contraction had passed. 
“I didn’t think so either,” he replied, massaging the side of my tummy. “But, you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
The pain was alleviated through his massages and gentle words. “Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
Labor was long and longer. Since it was my first baby, the risk was higher, but we wanted to prevent any danger of kidnapping or switched babies, especially since Bruce was in such a spotlight. I found myself in different positions as the night dragged on, the midwife’s reassuring words and Bruce’s concerned yet comforting presence carrying me through the delivery of our baby. Even when I felt for a moment that I couldn’t go on, my husband’s kisses to my shoulder and forehead kept me from giving up. Not that I really had a choice, of course. And yet that one moment was worth it all. 
I’ll never forget the moment the tiny, crying baby was put on my chest, as the midwife maneuvered me from my birthing position to lay on my back. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even register for a moment what was happening, until I was sprawling against the pillows and my newborn daughter was on my skin, her whimpering, suckling noises were music to my ears. Holding her close, I closed my eyes in relief, nearly unaware of what was going on around me. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man who had supported me from beginning to end. “Bruce, we did it.” 
“Yes, you did it, I knew you could.” He was looking at the tiny human in my arms with a sort of awe. 
I smiled, my thumbs stroking her back, though she was still covered in fluids. I was half mindful of the midwife asking Bruce to cut the umbilical cord, most of my focus was spent on examining my daughter’s tiny fingers that moved so slowly, as if they were trying to figure out this new environment.
Seeing the love of my life hold our child for the first time was as perfect and pure as I knew it would be. Once she was wiped clean and wrapped in a cloth, Bruce was able to hold her to his own chest, staring down at her with the same awe that hadn’t left his face. I could see her eyes were open, and she was staring up at him. In this wonderful moment, I knew that it had all been worth it, and that she would never have to be alone, that he was always going to be right there for her.
Bruce finally placed her back in my arms, and I held the little bundle of moving arms and legs close again, looking up at him with a smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I told you it wasn’t a prank.” 
Part One
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nomatterwhatnomatterwhere · 2 months ago
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(Knowing me, knowing you) It's the best I can do
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Summary: Charles is not bad, you know it, but it's starting to feel like you should really take a step back. At least, this is what Carlos thinks
A.N: Try to guess which song inspired this ( Spoiler is not the title). Jokes aside, this is something new for me, even if it might not seem too different from what I have already written. Some parts feels weird and I'm not entirely convinced, but I wanted to give it a try
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You were sitting on one of the steps of the stairs leading to the upper floor of the club.
You didn't know whose idea it was, but you were pointing at Lando. It was a nice place. Two floors. Great view. Great cocktails. Really nice place, and Lando had good taste in clubs.
Or so you were told.
You weren't used to going out a lot with Charles and the other drivers, they weren't your kind of outing, even though Charles often invited you to hang out with them.
As if he didn't really realise.
You had nothing against them, the ones you had met seemed nice too, but there is a huge difference between going out with people who understand you, with whom you can share interests, and everyone else.
With Charles' friends it was like that.
You felt uncomfortable. Like you didn't really belong there.
In fact, that's how it was.
Aesthetically you were perfect in the part, but you didn't really participate in the conversation, not when the focus of all their talk seemed to be the next races on the calendar, new car updates, expiring contracts and possible renewals or the FIA.
All topics you didn't really want to talk about; not when everything seemed so much the same and yet so different from what you knew.
You almost laughed: most of the people you know take their work home with them, and complain about it often, but it never occurred to you to mistake a friendly conversation for a business meeting.
For the pilots it had to be different, after all, for many of them it wasn't just a job: it was their life.
No matter how much they tried to change the subject to make you part of the conversation, they always came back to talking about engines.
And you would sit there, sipping your drink, nibbling on the straw and wondering if you had made a mistake coming.
At least until you feel Charles' hand shake yours, you don't meet his gaze, engaged in conversation with Pierre, but you feel him making circles with his thumb, to calm you down, to make you feel that he is there, that you are not alone.
You get up anyway.
They have turned up the music, and with it so have the noises. The lights are starting to bother you, and there are starting to be too many people.
For a moment you feel you can't breathe
You have a slight headache, and you don't think it's because of how quickly you may have sipped your drink.
In the staircase, the music is more muffled and the air is a little cooler.
You feel better already, although you don't really want to go back. Quite the contrary. The only thing you want to do is go back to your hotel room.
It's not as if you have to ask Charles for permission to leave, you are a woman of freedom and autonomy, but it still feels bad.
Leaving him in the middle of an evening where he finally seems relaxed again, comfortable again, because you feel out of place.
You know Charles, in spite of everything, he wouldn't let you feel uncomfortable and if you told him you wanted to go back to the hotel you knew he would take you back, but you also knew that he would somehow try to calm you down, convince you that you only felt this way because you hadn't settled in yet, that once you got used to it everything would be better.
You really didn't want to tell him that no matter how much time you could spend with him and his friends, you would never get used to his world.
No matter how hard you tried, it seemed like a really unattainable goal for you.
You pull up slightly on your nose. Take a deep breath. You turn back.
"If you had taken a minute longer I would have come looking for you, cariño."
It's not Charles you find sitting at the table waiting for you, but his now former teammate, but once you're sitting next to him you feel the tension of the evening leave you.
With Carlos it has always been like that, after all. You don't know how he does it, but his mere presence has always managed to calm you down.
Like that blanket you put on when you're cold and it's raining outside.
"I just needed some air."
He looks into your eyes, scanning you for a moment, with a worried look, trying to figure out if there is something else.
He always does this, though you don't always notice it.
He's completely turned towards you, almost creating a barrier between you and the rest of the world. Maybe that's what he's doing. He knows you don't like these places very much
"We can go out, get all the air you need" he smiles "I can even drive you back to the hotel if you prefer
" You know he means it, since you've known him, Carlos has been nothing but of his word to you, but if you didn't know better, his eyes would have said it for him.
He really hopes you can read him, because really, if you want to leave he'll be ready to drop everyone else and take you wherever you want, if you let him.
You smile - it's the first real smile of the evening - but you shake your head slightly.
"There's no need to go back to the hotel" you tell him, although you both know that's not what you want to say " but actually I think I'd be better off outside"
He nods and stands up. He's ready to extend his hand to you, a gesture of gallantry you're not really used to according to him, but he retracts, when he sees you already standing next to him.
He smiles, slightly, in a way that makes you wonder what's so funny.
He shakes his head, as he gently rests his hand on your back, guiding you towards the exit, but still shielding you from other people
You were really just waiting for an excuse to get out, and he's happy to have provided it for you
You were walking through the streets of Jeddah, the night landscape had something intriguing, fascinating.
The harbour lights illuminated the surroundings softly, but the city lights told a whole different story
You couldn't resist and stopped to take a few photos.
Carlos hadn't resisted either, the expression on your face was something so rare - as if you were at peace, in your element - that he couldn't help but capture it
As a memory; he hadn't been very good at going unnoticed.
When you had noticed him, you had shouted at him to erase them, because you had certainly come off badly, because you weren't photogenic, and a whole series of excuses he didn't believe. You even tried to steal his phone, with little result: his reflexes were still those of a racing driver.
You weren't far from the club, but you had still sent Charles a message so he wouldn't worry.
It had been at least half an hour since you had left and Charles still hadn't texted you back.
You didn't seem to have paid it much attention
Carlos wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel.
He was annoyed by how obvious it was how much you cared about Charles, about not making him worry, about not forcing him to choose between you and him, so much so that he could bear to feel out of place and excluded, because for once Charles seemed happy.
He was ecstatic, because there was nothing more beautiful than hearing you speak and seeing your reactions when you realised you were really being listened to, because he saw sides of you that you wouldn't let anyone else see, because in that moment he had your undivided attention, just as you had his.
He was irked by how Charles didn't seem to notice how you seemed to be on the verge of tears the longer the conversation went on, how every time you tried to say something you closed your mouth and looked down, as you would have preferred to be anywhere else.
Yet it was so obvious.
"You know you can come to me, sì?" he had taken your hand, with that delicate touch he always had when it came to you, intertwining your fingers, admiring how well your hand - smaller, thinner, more delicate - fit in his
You were about to ask him to explain himself better, to clarify whether you had understood, whether there really was that unspoken that you had perceived, but he had already anticipated you, he already knew what you were about to ask him
"When you feel like it is too much. When you want to run away. Whenever you want, really"
He had come close, close enough that you could count the tiny freckles on his nose, close enough that you were captivated by the depth of his eyes, close enough that you were mesmerised by the movement of his lips.
Enough that you thought he would kiss you.
He didn't kiss you. Even though he wanted to. Even though it seemed like you wanted him to.
The look in your eyes was so focused on him, as if he was the only one you cared about, the only one who existed.
It was so beautiful.
But he couldn't kiss you, not when he could see Charles approaching, unaware of what was happening between you. Not when he knew how guilt would assail you.He couldn't do that, not to you.
He then caresses your cheek with his free hand, watching as you lean into his touch - into him - and squeezes your hand in one last hold, before letting you go, pulling away just enough, just in time for Charles' arrival.
You hadn't heard him arrive, your focus entirely on Carlos, you couldn't even have seen him because your back was to him, but when Charles had arrived, giving you a light kiss on the temple and holding the hand that Carlos had held just before, you couldn't help but stiffen.
It wasn't just feeling like what had happened with Carlos - everything and nothing - shouldn't have happened, but it was the feeling of how different Charles' grip was.
Less gentle, less kind, stronger, tighter.
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The paddock was buzzing with energy. Free practice was over and qualifying would take place that evening.
At the moment the Formula 2 Sprint was taking place on the track, the roar of those engines had a calming effect on you.
You had seen some drivers watching the race, keeping an eye on the new talent, in some cases old friends, others were already preparing for qualifying, talking to their engineers and organising possible strategies
Charles was one of those.
Free practice hadn't been exciting and with qualifying so close Ferrari really needed something close to a miracle, given the previous races: they were fastest in the pit stops, good pace in qualifying, but even giving it their all, in the race, that car couldn't do better than fourth place.
Charles was under extreme pressure, you knew that.
Hamilton was still not comfortable with the car, making Charles the pivot of the team.
It was a responsibility. And he always let his emotions get the best of him when he was overloaded with expectations and responsibilities.
He was good at not showing that side of him to others, with that angelic face of his it wasn't difficult, all he had to do was smile and everything was forgotten.
Charles is not bad, but in those moments being around him became terribly difficult: he needed his own time and space.
He tended to close in on himself and concentrate totally on what to do to improve the car or his performance, sometimes for days.
Sometimes you hated him.
But he always managed to make it up to you. It was his way of being after all, and despite everything, he tried to be there in your moments of discomfort, to be there, even in the small things.
Even if he was sometimes late, he made sure he was there.
The good morning or good night messages, the surprise dates, the flowers delivered to you at work when he left without saying goodbye, perfectly calculated gifts like that, because he missed you or because seeing them had mede him think of you.
Even just shaking your hand when you were uncomfortable meant the everything to you.
Even if it was becoming more and more tiring, harder.
It wasn't the first time you felt him almost distancing himself, it happened quite often when the car wasn't performing well enough, but this time it felt different.
Charles was pulling away, it was something you couldn't explain, but you felt it.
His hand kept gripping yours, kept squeezing it tightly, but no matter how much strength he put into it, you had the feeling that if you let go, you would find no resistance.
You had thought about it, about what might happen if you pulled away, from his grasp, from him. Would he have run after you? Would he have let you go? Would he have even noticed that you were not there, beside him?
Sometimes you wondered if he wasn't doing it consciously, giving you the chance to let him go because somehow he hoped you would, that you would get away from him.
It was an ironic coincidence that you had arrived at Carlos's box. You didn't really have a destination, the walk was just to clear your thoughts and get away from the tense air in the Ferrari garage.
His words had kept coming back to you, more than you would have expected.
Perhaps because the idea of getting away, of running away, seemed tempting. Perhaps because you felt the time was coming to take a step back. Maybe because you felt your situation was becoming unbearable.
Maybe because Carlos could read you better than you could.
You hadn't dared enter the box, you had stayed in the doorway. You weren't really looking at anything, everything that was going on passed you by as if you didn't really see it.
You had noticed how much lighter everything seemed here, you had heard several laughs and had seen several people smiling. Not work-smiling, but as if they really had a motivation to smile.
In fact Williams was doing well, it was the first of the mid-range cars and in qualifying it was competing with the powers houses
You had turned around, ready to go back, when you were greeted by the Spaniard occupying the pit lane
"Cariño. You've come"
He was slightly sweaty, but still extremely handsome.
He smiled at you, though he then looked at you half-closing his eyes, slightly worried
"Why are you not inside? You could have waited there"
He took your hand almost reflexively, finally crossing the pit entrance.
On the way he had stopped to greet everyone you met, even taking the time to introduce you, to make you feel welcome
Once in his driver's room the Spaniard wasted no time, handing you a glass of cool water. He didn't know how long you could have stayed in the sun, the temperatures weren't summer, but the air was still warm and Carlos certainly didn't want to risk you getting heatstroke.
When you finished drinking he looked at you, raising an eyebrow slightly
"You said I could come, if I wanted to."
He shook his head, sighing a laugh, sitting down on the settee
"You didn't have to wait outside. Under the sun. That's dangerous for your health"
You shrugged, not meeting his eyes ‘It felt…wrong. Coming here, when you were not here."
"So you decided to wait outside" he sighed, shaking his head, as if dealing with a small child "Puedes ser tan tonta a veces"
He took your hands, pulling you towards him
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I told you, you could come whenever you felt like it. You didn't have a problem back in-"
"It didn't feel like I was cheating, back then" You sat on his thigh, resting your head on his shoulder. You felt Carlos wrap one arm around your waist, while his other hand continued to hold yours tightly.
He tried to meet your gaze, a silent way of asking for more explanation, but you were staring into space, lost in looking at something that wasn't there.
He could guess though.
When you joined a team, especially for a long time, it was normal to form a bond, the team became a kind of family. At least, that was usually how it went.
He had seen more than anyone how committed you were to supporting the team, but despite that you had never managed to integrate.
You were shy, and perhaps a little anxious, but that didn't stop you from always being kind and helpful, always with a kind word for everyone, never out of place.
The team liked you and the fans liked you: you had earned the title of good luck charm, because every time you showed up in the paddock, Ferrari got good results.
On paper there was nothing wrong with you, in fact, you were probably the most supported of all the wags, and that fact alone should have indicated how involved you were, yet you still felt like an outsider.
You didn't feel part of the team because no one had made you feel like it.
Being the nice person you were didn't automatically make you part of the family that the team was, and maybe being Charles' girlfriend made it even more difficult.
Charles has very good driving skills, good qualifying results and good race pace. Carlos had no problem admitting this. He also liked him on a personal level, he was funny and didn't take himself too seriously, but he was also someone who worked hard and demanded a lot of himself.
But Charles had always had great difficulty in making his work and private life coexist. He wasn't the only one, when work becomes an extension of you, it becomes difficult to notice everything else, but Charles was really the worst.
All his previous relationships had ended for that exact reason, because after a while he would focus too much on the performance of the car, how the championship was going, the dinners with the team and the outings with the other drivers. Not that this was being told to the public.
But with you it was even worse: you seemed to really want to be part of Charles's world, even if you weren't the greatest car expert out there. You were probably the person who supported him most after his family.
And how could you feel part of that world if your boyfriend in the first place couldn't make you feel like you beloged to it already.
Carlos knew this. You went to him whenever you needed an explanation and he was happy to give you whatever he could, because it was wonderful how hard you were putting in for Charles.
You didn't have to do that, he'd told you a couple of times, but you smiled and replied that it was nice, it was a way of understanding why Charles seemed so infatuated with the sport.
He was somehow jealous and at the same time furious with his now ex-teammate: you tried to be supportive of him whenever you could, even when he shut himself off from the world. He couldn't even find time to say goodbye to you before he left for a race
"I was thinking" you didn't talk, you were whispering, as if you were telling him a secret "that maybe I should let it go"
Now Carlos was slightly confused, he had the feeling that what you were about to say he wouldn't like "Should what go?"
"All of this." you made a circular motion with your hand "Before I start to hate it. Coming here, cheering, smiling is becoming tiring.Sometimes I just wanna go home"
You weren't crying, but it was as if you were swallowing sobs. Because you didn't want to be a burden even at your lowest moment
He began to run his hand down your back, over your hair, slow, gentle movements
"You can hate it, if you want" He didn't really want you to hate that world, because he was part of it too, but motorsport wasn't a kind world, it never had been, but you had every right to hate it, even if it broke his heart, because it meant not having you so close anymore, to brighten up even the dreariest of days
"I can't" you surprised him, stroking a lock of his hair, in a way that made him shiver, as you looked at him "Because that would hurt you"
It was light, delicate, the way your lips touched his, so gentle that Carlos thought it was almost a product of his imagination, of his wishful desire to taste you, at least once, to feel you his, at least once.
It takes him a moment to react, a moment too long for you, because you're about to pull away because you got carried away, because you probably misread the signals, but then you feel his hand on the back of your neck, strong, to prevent you from pulling away, and then you relax into his touch.
Carlos feels like he's in heaven when he feels you relax on top of him again, when he deepens the kiss and you hold tighter to him, when he feels your nails caressing his hair, when he feels your scent sticking to him from how close you are, and there's nothing he could want more right now.
He doesn't let go of you when the kiss ends, in fact, he holds you even tighter as he rests his head on your neck, leaving a few small kisses, hoping that his scent stays on you too.
No words are spoken for a while, he continues to kiss your neck as you stroke his hair
"You could stay here’ he murmurs, before lifting his head again ’You know Alex. And James's nice"
"Carlos I-"
"If you want to leave it's okay, but if you ever want to come back, you could stay here,if you want. With me"
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“Shouldn’t Charles help you with that?”
You were walking down the stairs of the hall with your suitcase when this was easily lifted by a hand you knew well.
It didn't seem to you that the Williams drivers were staying in the same hotel as the Ferrari's, but you were still grateful for his help. Your suitcase was definitely heavier than you remembered, or perhaps, more simply, you were more tired than when you arrived
You smiled when you heard the Spaniard mention your fiancé. It was a sad, somewhat nostalgic smile that made Carlos ask what else the other driver had done.
"He should. Yeah" these days you had been thinking a lot about your relationship with the Monegasque, coming to the conclusion that it was time to end it, to take a step back.
You didn't know how much of what had happened with the man who was now carrying your suitcase down the stairs had had to do with your realisation; you suspected that it had somehow speeded things up, but not the outcome.
You love Charles, but loving him couldn't keep making you put yourself in second, sometimes third, place.
You love Charles, but for a while you began to hate him, because for once you wanted him to choose you over that machine, to notice you without you having to reach your maximum level of discomfort.
You wanted him to know, without you having to tell him.
Because that's how it worked with Charles, for too long now
"I think he's busy. Maybe he forgot" you snorted a laugh, typical of Charles. Somehow you kept justifying it, because you knew him, you knew, but it wasn't right. "But my flight can't wait for him to remember. I have a life too."
You were now out of the hotel, but Carlos was still holding the suitcase, even when you waved to him to stop, because you had now reached the taxi rank.
He looked at you, smiling slightly, one eyebrow raised "Have I already told you that sometimes you're really stupid?"
"I recall that happening" was your turn to smile "Can I have that back now?"
You had held your hand out, ready to get your suitcase back, but not only did you not get it back, you had to be careful not to trip as you walked, because Carlos had taken you by the hand and continued on his way.
"Then I'm going to say it again cariňo. You can be really stupid sometimes. I'll take you there"
Part of you wanted to stop, to tell him there was no need, you could easily have taken a taxi, but another part of you appreciated the gesture.
It was really nothing major, but the mere fact that he did it meant the world for you. Maybe because you were no longer used to it
Carlos wasn't doing it out of pity, he was doing it because he wanted to. Because he wanted to spend more time with you before you left.
You still hadn't given him an answer, regarding his proposal. Not that he had demanded it.
At that moment, just having you there, smiling, in his car, still interlocking your fingers with his every time he took your hand, was fine, if that's what you were willing to give him, then he would gladly take it.
He was the last person you saw before you went home and decided what to do with your life: you had been given a job offer that was too good to be true.
The offer had been on the table for a while, but you had kept refusing, partly because of your situation with Charles, partly because you really didn't feel ready, but now that you seemed to need a big change it felt like the right thing to do.
Carlos doesn't expect a goodbye kiss from you.
It is gentle, light, so light that as soon as he realises it you have already fled into the airport but he continues to watch your advancing figure, until you turn to look back and then raise your hand, waving to him.
Perhaps you are smiling, he's not sure, he's smiling as he responds to your greeting
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Once Charles took off his helmet he felt he could breathe again.
It wasn't an easy race, it never is, but he finally managed to get his car on the podium.
He is still not satisfied, he stands on the lowest step of the podium, but it is the first podium of the season, and with all the issues this car has, Charles believes that the goddess of luck must be on his side.
He does know that when you're in the paddock Ferrari has more luck than usual, he should probably take you out to celebrate. It wouldn't be like it was when you first arrived, it wouldn't be a group outing, although he appreciates that you decided to join him.
Just you and him. Out to dinner at some nice restaurant. He could give you your birthday present.
He got the timing wrong, true, but it had taken him a while to get tickets for that concert you'd confessed you wanted to go to. Finding a date that matched both your days off and his, without you noticing, had been difficult, but he managed it.
He could already imagine the surprise on your face.
He wasn't a fan, he had heard a few songs, but he didn't really remember any of the lyrics, but you were: you knew all the lyrics, every new album release, every tour
And if you did your best to support him even if you didn't fully understand what he liked about racing, he could have booked the best seats for you to have one of the best experiences of your life
He feels that he probably has a lot to make up for, and he has to do it well.
He gets worried when, knocking on the hotel room door, you don't answer.
He knows you left the Paddock earlier than usual, Bryan told him as soon as he could, he also told him you didn't look well.
As soon as he was free, he was held up more than he expected, he ran back to the hotel.
His plans for the evening could wait, he had to make sure you were OK first.
He knocks one more time before taking the key to get in, and when he does, he doesn't quite know how to react.
It's obvious that the room has been redecorated, but there is not the slightest trace of your passing.
His suitcase is exactly where he left it that morning, but yours is completely gone.
He picks up the phone to call you, but turning it on a notification catches his attention
It's a text message from you
I'm at the airport, my flight will leave shortly and not seeing you arrive I thought you had been delayed. Or maybe you had forgotten. It doesn't really matter, I know you're busy with everything and all. Congratulation for podium, you did really good. I know this is not the right way to do, but I think we should break up.I don't know if I can keep doing this, us, and I need some time alone, for me, to sort things out. You've been awesome, really, and I wish you the best, but I have to take a step back.
Charles feels the ground beneath his feet. It's true, you had a flight to catch, he knew that. You had told him several times. He knew it. He had told you that you could come back with him, later, but you had refused: you had a pressing work engagement. He assured you that he would accompany you
He could not understand how something so important could have completely slipped his mind. He was busy of course, but he didn't think he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he'd forget something like that.
From there a spiral of thoughts had started, little things you had told him, little behaviours he had noticed, all things he had seen, and had decided to ignore, because he could think about it later, with a clearer mind.
It was obvious you wanted to get away from him, who knows how long he had forgotten something you had said to him or something you were supposed to do, and you had never made him think about it, because you were that kind of person there.
The worst thing was that it had all occurred to him now that you had told him, in a very soft, and gentle way, as you were.
He hadn't even been able to notice it himself, and he didn't know if there was a way back now
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Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics @strangergraphics
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moonswolfie · 1 year ago
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Princess of the commoner cafe
Oikawa, Miya twins, Ushijima, Hinata, Akaashi x fem!reader
ohshc AU!!
I've been watching a bit of ouran high school host club lately (still havent gotten very far but i am HOOKEDDDDDD) and i'm sure others have written something like this before but i wanted to throw my own hat in the ring and write this delulu ass scenario
also i apologise PROFUSELY if anyone is ooc it has been a WHILE since my last haikyuu rewatch
(btw i am working on your request anon dont you worry ;) )
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Somehow, you managed to get into the prestigious Ouran Academy based on your academic success alone. Your parents were overjoyed to send you off, even if you felt embarrased about not even being able to afford the official school uniform. You stuck out like a sore thumb on your first day, that's for sure.
At first, you thought you wouldn't fit in with anyone here. Your hypothesis was mostly correct. Everyone in your class is always talking about their latest designer bag or bragging about their new lambo or bugatti. Needless to say, it's like they're speaking in a foreign language.
They quickly lost interest in you after you couldn't list your top ten designer brands (with reasons as to why you chose those specific ones!!!). Yeah, friends are kind of out of the picture.
So when your curiosity got the better of you one day and you visited the host club all the girls in your class keep squealing about you didn't expect things to develop like this.
"Are you gonna visit today too? Are you?!" Hinata, the boy from the other class attached himself to your arm and looked at you with sparkling eyes. "Of course I am." you smiled at him, a little giddy about returning to the club once more.
"We have a special theme today, just for you..." he told you that while wearing a mischevious grin but refused to elaborate. The boys at the club always go through great lengths to get you curious and draw you back into the club. Not just Hinata, all of them.
Let's just say you've become quite the sensation among the hosts of the Ouran High school host club. You aren't exactly sure how you managed to get yourself in this situation, but you aren't really complaining, either. You'd definitely take being adored by the 6 hotties of the school over being ignored by everyone for all your 3 years of high school.
All you did was visit the club a few times out of curiosity, far too afraid to actually openly interact with the hosts considering the crowd of girls always gathered around them. Not to mention you'd definitely get gawked at for your clothes, mannerisms and conversation topics (and not in a good way).
Akaashi was the first to take notice of you, and somehow that evolved into every other host becoming interested, too.
Anyways, Hinata seemed very satisfied with your promise to come visit once again and ran off, shouting that you have to promise to come visit him first.
Well, there's nothing to it but to do it, you suppose.
.
"Welcome, dear guests, to the host club!" all the guys greeted you and a group of other girls who also came as soon as they possibly could. They were practically pushing eachother in front of the door. Not that you can blame them.
As soon as you stepped into the room, you felt like you were standing at the local cafe located just around the corner from your house. It felt warm and homey. So this is what they went for this time. A strange choice, considering their usually extravagant themes.
"Heya, gir-" Atsumu's smug voice greeted you from behind and you turned around to see that he was about to envelop you in his arms. "Hey, ya lost the bet. I get her first." Osamu pulled Atsumu back by his barista apron before he could actually touch you. Atsumu grumbled something you couldn't quite hear, which you presume was some not so nice words directed towards his brother.
"Actually, I made a promise to Hinata that he'd be the first one I visit." you smiled at the twins apologetically. Neither of them seemed too pleased about the prospect of that, though. "Why? Ya like him more than us?" Atsumu placed his hands on his hips, glaring at you.
"Hahaha, a promise is a promise. I'll be back for you two right after, don't worry." you waved the twins off, winking. That seemed to soften their expressions a bit. But maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, looking back on it. They're definitely going to fight over which one of them you winked at later.
Hinata greeted you enthusiastically, looking overjoyed at seeing you. His cheeks blushed a nice pink color when he smiled at you. "Wait here, wait here." he held out an antique looking chair for you and you sat down behind one of the tables. Then he ran off somewhere.
You're always impressed by how lavishly they decorate their club. I guess being rich can really do wonders for club decor.
"Are you enjoying today's theme? I made sure to pick out some fitting decorations." Akaashi suddenly appeared behind you. You could have sworn you didn't hear his footsteps. Maybe you were just too absorbed in observing the theme, though. Haha, even all the hosts are dressed like baristas.
"Yeah..." you looked into Akaashi's eyes, admiring their color. You've always found him to have a calming presence, even if he can be mischevious at times. That just adds on to his personality, doesn't it? You think it's quite a shame that he isn't as popular as a certain someone in the club.
"It seems to me you're enjoying something other than the theme." you got snapped out of your thoughts by Akaashi's voice. Oops, you must have been staring at him again. You turned away, making a quick apology. You felt a little giddy all of a sudden.
"Oh, but when did I ever say I dislike the attention?" Akaashi gently grabbed your chin, turning your face back to him. Somehow, he seems more affectionate towards you than he does to the other girls who request him. Atleast you've never seen him grab other girls' chins. You were sure you probably looked awestruck in this moment.
"Hey! Stop hogging her to yourself!" Hinata was running back to the two of you, holding a fancy cup of (presumably) coffee. On his way to stop Akaashi from wooing you, he didn't notice a wire below his feet and he tripped over it.
...Which happened to spill hot coffee all over your shirt and shattered the cup to pieces. "Ugh... I'm okay, don't- AAAAH!" Hinata yelled upon seeing your shirt.
"I'll go get new clothes!" Akaashi seemed tense, quickly turning on his heels and running off.
Luckily, the coffee was cool enough to not give you burns. You aren't even worried about the shirt that much either, you've been on the fence about donating it anyways.
"Aaah, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry." Hinata seemed almost dramatically apologetic, bowing down before you in apology over and over.
"What is going on over here?" you heard a smug voice that could belong to one person and one person only. The leader and self proclaimed king of the club, Oikawa, was now approaching the two of you. And he didn't seem very happy, mind you.
"Ah, Oikawa! It's, umm..." Hinata nervously whipped his head around to meet Oikawa's charming chocolate eyes.
"Hinata accidentally spilled coffee on me." Hinata looked at you sadly, like you just betrayed him. You gasped, realising you weren't supposed to reveal that unless you wanted Hinata to feel Oikawa's wrath. Normally he would just scold Hinata for his clumsiness, but when it comes to you specifically, he gets protective. Somehow, he even looks like a supermodel while wearing a barista uniform.
"He... Oh, that won't do. You should spend less time with clumsy good-for-nothings and spend more time with..." he tilted your chin towards him "...Me."
As much as you think Oikawa is an obnoxious jerk, he always manages to charm your negative feelings away when he does something like that. Gets you feeling all giddy like the main character of a badly written shojo anime.
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, bro." you kept your face as cold as you possibly could in that situation. It seemed to you like the word "bro" was a direct stab to his heart, but he quickly recovered, putting on his best flirty face. "I will help you clean yourself up, my princess. We simply must get you out of that dreadful shirt." Oikawa shot poor Hinata a glare. You're definitely buying him "that one good commoner chocolate" (as Hinata likes to call it) later.
"Uh, Akaashi's already-"
"Now now now, what's goin' on here?" things are about to get a lot more complicated, you reckon. Because now the twins have showed up.
"We heard precious china shatterin' and wanted to see what caused it." Osamu added. A few girls were blushing a few meters behind the twins, probably too nervous to approach the two right now.
"Ya said you'd come visit us right after! And now yer here with this a-" Atsumu immediately stopped complaining when he saw your shirt. Both the twins shot poor poor Hinata a glare. (One "poor" for each twin.)
"See, I told ya I was a better fit for ya. I'd never spill coffee on ya." Osamu crossed his arms.
"What do ya mean "the better fit for ya"? Clearly, I'm the better one 'round here. And say the wink was meant for me while we're at it, won't ya?!" Atsumu's anger was now directed back at Osamu. (Akaashi would joke that it's back to where it's supposed to be.)
"I was kinda winking at-"
"Oh, please. Don't joke around with me. We all know I'm the best fit for her." Oikawa posed dramatically, which looked funny because of his not very prince-like outfit.
This always ends up happening. At this point you've given up on stopping it. The twins start bickering with Oikawa while girls on both sides squeal for them to calm down, tearfully inviting the boys back into their embraces.
You look behind you, where Ushijima is staring at you knowingly. You give him a relieved smile, knowing what's about to come. Whenever the other guys get into duels over who gets to recieve your attention, Ushijima is always there to pull you out of the situation.
The duels get so heated that you get to spend a few minutes alone with him before the others even notice you're gone. And so you follow the routine of letting him whisk you away to a lonely corner of the club room.
"Do you know why the theme is a commoner cafe?" he asks after a few moments of silence. He's looking at you with complete seriousness, but you don't miss the hint of a smile on his face. Enchanted by such a sight, you shake your head no dreamily.
"It was to impress you. Akaashi thought of the idea." Your eyes widened. Now you just feel giddy that Akaashi actually remembered that one time you told him you used to visit a cozy cafe close to your house with your parents growing up. It was all the way back when he first acknowledged your existence and decided to sit around with you for a few minutes, sipping tea from a cup that probably costs more than your phone.
"Oh... I like it. I really do." you smiled up at Ushijima. You could swear a bit of blush appeared on his cheeks. He silently put an arm around you, pulling you close to him. You like when he does that.
When all of the hosts are swooning over you like this while wearing barista uniforms, you feel like the princess of a commoner cafe.
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ieetbeez · 7 months ago
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[ Jamie Siu Headcannons !? ]
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A/N : Okay so not the first time I've written any sort of fanfic but it's the first time I'm posting it so sorry if it looks dorky. I'm still learning how to be a super sick tumblr user. But it's crazy there's not that much Jamie content, I plan to change that! Not today though, this is just to butter y'all up. But just so y'all know there are Ed and Jamie (separate) one shots in the works.
There's no romantic ones in here but if y'all want a pt.2 ...
[CW] None! Just fluff (for now).
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He probably did the thing in middle school where guys would roll up long socks and fold it at the toe to keep his shoe from creasing.
But he'd forget to do it after a day so his shoes were creased.
Shockingly NOT dirty though.
Definitely got his earlobe pulled.
Definitely pissed that Luke is taller than him.
Saw the Chinese "oh no my husband/ mother in law is coming home and the place is a mess!" temu ads and bought at least one organization shelf because of it. He uses it to store his makeup and skincare!
I bet he smells great, I'm no smell expert but I think he'd have a floral scent while still having a masculine hint to him?? Does this make sense?
It's better than Luke's 15-in-1 shampoo and Axe deodorant.
Cried while watching Hamilton.
Likes 2nd gen K-pop, proud boy group listener.
He'll complain about his tummy hurting but ignore the fact he's only had his special "chi enhancing tea" and shrimp chips.
Got his jacket tailored to be cropped.
Loves spicy food, will devour a whole thing of buldak noodles.
His rice cooker is 2 decades old.
Luke compared him to Jacob from twilight and Jamie didn't get the reference, Luke had to show him the movie.
Off topic but it reminded me of Nigahiga's 'how to act like your favorite actors' video and the Taylor Lautner section.
His first introduction to breakdancing was the sesame street breakdancing pencil.
He's picky with which color straw he gets with his boba.
Total nerd for early 2000's movies, specifically martial arts movies.
On that note his favorite movie is probably Rush Hour, I would suggest an actual old martial arts movie but I haven't seen that many (yet).
Brain rot king, don't say hawk near that man.
Not actually a headcannon but he reminds me of Daredevil (sigh Matt Murdock <3) a little bit cause, Chinatown cannot possibly be that big. He watches over that small section of the city like a vulture, he knows his boundaries. Respect.
Will get on your ass for dirtying his shoes.
Curses in mandarin, if Luke asks Jamie to teach him stuff he'll do the thing where it's like:
"Oh how do I say I'm so handsome in tagalog?"
"It's putang ina mo hehe."
Buys stuff from Instagram marketplace.
His shower routine is more like a regimen, very strict rules, takes exactly an hour and 45 minutes.
One time an employee at Sephora was like "Looking for something for your girlfriend?" and he turns to her, super loud eyeshadow look, and is like "Pfft yeah I wish." and then walks away.
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sigh. I miss him guys. I miss my wife.
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aphroditelovesu · 2 years ago
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⸻ The Lost Queen - I ⸻
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— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.
— genre: yandere, dark!au.
— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.
— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.
— word count: 1,592.
— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.
— the lost queen series masterlist.
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Chapter 1
''This is so annoying.''
You looked up only to find your friend glaring at you angrily. You cleared your throat and asked her, ''What's so annoying?''
''All of this!'' She snarled, pointed at the history books on the table. You were in the library, studying about Alexander the Great at the request of your history teacher. Your friend complained, she hated history class and the teacher. You didn't hate the classes, but you didn't like Mr. Sheffield. He was so arrogant and brazen. You were sure he was getting involved with a student, but you had no proof.
Yet.
''I know you're angry but there's no need to take it out on the poor books, May.'' You scolded her and picked up the book she had nearly torn up in her anger. ''Besides, if you screw up this book, you'll have to buy another one.''
''I don't care about that book!'' May snarled and pulled your hands towards her, ''(Y/N), please tell me that you found something rotten about Mr. Sheffield to get rid of him for good?''
You rolled your eyes. Had this. You've kind of become a spy in the meantime, trying to find something about your terrible history teacher and get rid of him. It wasn't ethical, you knew, but you'd do anything to get rid of that bastard. You already had noticed him looking at your legs shamelessly when you wore a skirt or shorts.
''I'm looking for. It's not that easy, you know? I'm not a professional spy.'' You grumbled and went back to your reading. You were reading about the Battle of Issus and its importance in the conquest of the Persian Empire.
May mumbled something unintelligible and you patted her neck comfortingly.
''Here, can we continue our reading, please? We have a work about this topic and I want the highest grade.''
''You're such a nerd, (N/N).'' You and her both laughed and she went back to trying to focus on the open book in front of her. Each was reading about different battles to get the job done faster. As you read about the Battle of Issus, May read about  the Granicus.
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You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally removed your sneakers and could lie down on your bed. The day was long and exhausting and you just wanted to be able to sleep until you became one with your bed.
But unfortunately you couldn't. You had to go to the market at your mother's request to buy some vegetables. The thought made you more tired but you were a good daughter and for that, just for that, you got up and went to the bathroom for a much needed shower, as you had been sweating all day due to the infernal heat it was doing.
''Ugh.'' You grumbled after getting out of the shower. You had taken a little longer than you normally would, but you felt so tired and the hot water helped to relax your sore muscles. It was a shame you couldn't just fall asleep
You dried your body and put on some comfortable clothes and put your sneakers back on. You took your phone and your headphones, putting some upbeat music on Spotify and put your phone inside the small bag that had the money to buy the vegetables at the market. As soon as you left the house, you closed the door and started walking towards your destiny.
The music was the only thing that enveloped you and you didn't notice someone calling you until they grabbed your shoulders, startling you.
''What the hell?'' You mumbled and looked at whoever had stopped you. You frowned as you didn't know the older man who glared at you sinisterly.
You felt disturbed by the man's piercing gaze on you, ''Hm... Hi?''
He didn't answer you and continued to watch you intently. This was getting creepy and bizarre.
''Uh... Since you're not going to say anything, I... I'll go...'' You were about to put your earphone back on, when he grabbed your right arm. ''Let me go, now.''
He glared at you and let go of your arm slowly, you pulled your arm back when he let go. He spoke, in a low voice but you heard it loud and clear: ''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''
''What?'' You asked but he looked at you for the last time, smiled weakly and turned his back, leaving you standing on the sidewalk and thinking about the man's sinister words. ''Must be just another crazy dude...'' You shook your head and decided to continue going to the market.
You ignored the squeezing of your heart inside your chest, ignored the feeling that something was wrong. And that was your first biggest mistake.
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You left the market with bags in your hand, still thinking about the mysterious man's words. What was it? Why was this bothering you so much? And why did you feel a tightness in your heart as if something was wrong? You shrugged, deciding to ignore it all and go home as soon as possible, but first you had one last place to go. At a bookstore, you wanted to buy a new book that you heard had arrived and you felt very anxious about reading it. As if you have to read it.
You smiled brightly when you arrived at the store, opening the door to find hundreds of books. You put away the bags you were holding and headed to the history book section. For some reason, ever since you've read about the Battle of Issus, you've found yourself wanting to learn more about Alexander the Great. You could look up wikipedia, but you'd rather read a book.
Approaching the shelf, you found the book you were looking for, The Life of Alexander the Great, and opened it to flip through. You decided to take it and paid for the book at the register, picking up your bags and putting away the new book. You were eager to start reading it.
As soon as you got home, you packed your groceries and ran with your book to your room, changing clothes and putting on your favorite pajamas, lay down on the bed and opened the book to the first chapter. Your eyes read each word eagerly and you frowned as you read the next paragraph:
''Alexander was married with a woman of an unknown origin and he was deeply in love with her and devoted, according to sources at the time. Her name was (Y/N)..."
And why did your head begin to throb painfully? You tried to stay awake, but your eyes were too heavy and the headache made it worse. Maybe a nap... You bookmarked the page you left off and placed the book on the corner table and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, your body in desperate need of a rest.
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When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your room.
You tried to get up but your body still ached, you groaned in pain as your head throbbed again. What was that?
Finally managing to sit up, you looked around and felt dread creep through your body. You didn't know this place, much less the people who watched you cautiously and suspiciously. Your eyes widened when you noticed the ancient greek armor and swords in their hands and even more when you saw the symbol of Ancient Macedonian. Vergina Sun.
You recognized the symbol from the history books. This was a dream, it had to be, but if it was a dream, why did you feel pain and feel like you knew these people who looked at you like an alien. And you felt embarrassed when you noticed that you were still in your pajamas, dressed completely differently from the men who were looking at you.
''What are you doing?'' A loud authoritative voice echoed and you cringed even more. First, the person who was speaking approached the group of men along with another slightly taller man and second, why did you understand them? It wasn't the language you spoke, you knew that as it sounded nothing like your mother tongue but much more different. Greek, you noticed and that left you even more perplexed.
You didn't understand greek as far as you knew.
''What is that? Who are you?'' The man dressed more formally than the others, asked looking at you curiously. He had dark blonde hair and his eyes were two colors, blue and brown. He wasn't very tall, but you felt small with the way he looked at you. He seemed to be the leader, you noticed.
You looked like a fish out of water and one of the men laughed and said, ''Looks like she's lost her tongue, Alexander.''
Alexander... You widened your eyes even more and walked away from the grip of the man who was holding you. No... It couldn't be...
You had read a book about him... And his appearance...
By god... You were face to face with Alexander the Great.
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— lady l: I hope you liked the first chapter. This was her introduction to the ancient world and the next few will see (Y/N)'s interaction with Alexander and the others.
It has not yet been proofread and may contain errors, so I apologize for that. Until the next chapter my loves!
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syneilesis · 1 month ago
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Hey, I'm the one who asked previously to make the scene in my dream into a happy ending one. 😄
Sorry for not asking clearly 😅 I think it would be great if you include prompt 30 + 39 and do your magic, I believe in you.
Hello, anon! Thank you for your patience! This got longer; I hope you enjoy this one! (proofread once; any mistakes remaining still my fault.)
dinner mate There’s a popular romantic spot on campus. Zayne invites you there.
It's a popular spot especially during spring, when they’re in full bloom. The peach trees—located behind the architecture building, after a set of winding pathways designed to filter out students who intend to loiter there at length (architecture students, when it comes to the fully blossomed trees, are surprisingly territorial—not that it could stop the loiterers). They've become an iconic fixture in the campus, born out of word of mouth ten years ago by an alumni couple who had been looking for their perfect pre-nuptial photoshoot site.
When Zayne asked you a week earlier to come with him to the row of peach trees on this day, the significance of it had not escaped you. The peach trees had been mythologized in such a way that even high school students chose this university as their first option largely because of the trees' reputation.
It seems that everybody wants to experience love like how peach blossoms give color to the world.
You keep glancing at Zayne as the two of you walk along the pathway towards the peach trees. Some architecture students pass you by, hastily shifting their blueprint tubes. One is loudly complaining about their plates. The walls are filled with murals, painted by former fine arts students as part of their degree requirement. It had been several years ago and you were still in high school then, but Zayne mentioned them once as an afterthought to a topic you've already forgotten, and now, seeing the art, you think that it would have been cool to watch them work.
The breeze hits your skin as you emerge from the building, the peach trees coming into view. The blossoms sway in accordance to the wind, petals dancing in spirals. Like reflex, your hand gropes for your phone, lining it up and taking a snap. Next to you Zayne hides his laughter by pretending to cough into his hand.
Notably enough, there are no other people around.
“The first time I was here,” Zayne begins, “was for a class homework. I had to sketch different plants and label their parts. It was spring, so I thought to come here to draw the peach blossoms—never mind that I was the only person alone and the rest were couples.” A twitch of his mouth hints of reminiscence.
You imagine Zayne, sketching. In your head, his back is straight, posture perfect, as he looks up at the flowers, one arm supporting the drawing pad, one hand holding a pencil, each stroke drowned by murmuring couples around him. He must have made an effort to ignore all other people doing romantic stuff as he sketched the peach blossoms. “How lucky for your professor to have a copy of your artwork!”
He smiles. It lights up his face.
“I didn't come back here after that,” he continues, “because I saw no reason to. Now, though ...”
You take a sharp inhale, blinking rapidly. There must be a reason for Zayne's invitation, his words about this place, the implications of it—the anticipation. There aren't any words for you to say; the nerves pull you into keeping silent. Just looking at him, feeling your eyes widening by the second.
And then—
And then his phone rings, and the anticipation crumbles. Zayne's frown could dampen even the mood of an excited dog. He pockets the phone, lost in thought.
You bite your lip and ask, “Did something happen?”
His focus on you returns, and it is troubled. “Nothing significant. Just ...” He exhales, pained. “I need to check something. I'll be back. Don't leave here; wait for me.”
You reach out, attempting to stop him by grabbing his arm. But midway you falter, your hand dropping back to your side.
And then you're watching him rush back to the building.
When his shadow recedes into the hallway, another breeze whips by, and the rustle of flowers follows. Having no choice you turn back to the peach trees, surveying them more closely this time, solitary in your marveling.
A small part of your brain worries at you; an itch that manifests at the base of your neck crawls upward. You glance back at the architecture building again, the beginnings of apprehension squirming inside your gut.
He's coming back, you tell yourself. Why wouldn't he? Something must have happened, something important. Otherwise he wouldn't have left you here.
This uncertainty urges you to follow him, your feet ready to pivot. But.
You trust Zayne—you'll wait for him.
The wait prolongs. Seconds turn into minutes. Ten. Twenty.
Thirty.
The peach blossoms undulate with the wind, unaware of your concerns. You're pacing at the end of the row of trees, ready to dial Zayne's number. When your whirl around—
Flowers. A bouquet of them. Roses. And the one holding the bouquet—
“Zayne!”
His breathing is a little uneven, and a trickle of sweat lines down the side of his face and down his neck, where it disappears inside his shirt. He must've run all the way back here.
“Apologies for my sudden departure,” he says, mostly level. “I hadn’t foreseen the possibility of a ... problem in my plan.”
The knot between his brows indicates how much he's troubled by this; but now that he's here—and the weight that's borne you down finally lightens—you find his worried expression cute.
You take the roses and inhale their scent. Zayne exhales, relieved, and you smile at him, slightly ruefully.
“Can you tell me what's going on now? I got a little worried there, you know.”
“I'm sorry,” he says again. And then: “I believe you already have an idea of what I was—still am about to do.”
You have, but you do not want to utter it out loud. He has to be the one to say it.
“I have an idea,” you agree, “but I'm not sure if I’m right about it.”
A smile of his own emerges; Zayne shakes his head. “I believe you are. And I would have done it already, were it not for the matter earlier.”
“And what matter would that be...?”
He doesn't answer you right away; just stares at you at length. The quality of his gaze stirs soft warmth within you, and you feel a splotch of blush creeping onto your cheeks.
“I wanted to invite you to dinner, so I made reservations—both here and at a restaurant,” he says. “But due to an unforeseen circumstance, the restaurant had to cancel my reservation.” A pause. “I had to act quickly.”
“So what did you do when you left?”
“I had to call in a couple of favors. And now ...” His hand reaches out and trails down your hair, then tucking a stray lock behind your ear. “I can start over.”
The hand migrates to your hand that's cradling the bouquet; encloses it over yours. Zayne steps closer, head tilted down, close enough for his breath to warm your skin. The strands of his hair mingle with yours. He smiles.
“The peach blossoms surrounding us are beautiful. It's a good decision to bring you here,” he says. You remain looking at him, heart pounding loudly in your chest. “May I take you out to dinner?”
You draw a breath. “Just dinner?”
A laugh, low and clear. “Not just dinner. That’s only the beginning.”
You feel your mouth stretch into an elated smile. The bouquet crinkles as you close the gap between you and Zayne, resting your head on his shoulder. His free hand comes up to settle on your back.
“Yes,” you say into his neck. “Yes to all. Yes to everything. For you of course it’s a yes.”
He chuckles. “You still don’t know what I’ll ask next.”
“Don’t care.” You step back and show him your joyful expression. “It’s you. What else would be my answer?”
Around you the peach blossoms paint a picturesque scene, vivid, alive, and with Zayne in the foreground—smiling, happy, the center of your vision—the world in your eyes glows with such radiant colors.
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kyehwas · 4 months ago
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🌑 chaconne ft. park sunghoon
-> or, every step sunghoon takes makes him need you more
|| wc + warnings || 0.8k words / fem!reader, royalty au, prince vampire hoon, blood
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Sunghoon had been dreading the night of the ball. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by people he didn't know or care about.
Somewhere else out there in Riverfield, you weren't that excited about being forced to go to a dance. Your mother urged you and your sister to go. Your sister was elated, but you on the other hand, would rather just stay at home.
Sunghoon stood at the door, greeting guests as any prince would. He didn't recognize anyone who came in, all the "aww you grew up so fast"'s and "i was great friends with your mother"'s drove him insane.
Until you came in. With a fancy gown and beautiful features, you immediately captured Sunghoon's heart. He didn't even believe love at first sight was real until you came.
Your sister noticed Sunghoon's smile as he greeted you and her and she grinned and leaned closer, “He totally likes me, did you not see the way he smiled?”
Deciding to feed into your sister's irrationality, you replied, “You should go ask him for a dance. I'm leaving.”
You went up the stairs, searching for a bathroom to hide in. As you were doing so, you bumped into the very prince your sister was talking about.
“Where are you going?” He asked. He brushed his raven black bangs back, and his eyes had some sort of glint in them that you couldn't identify.
“Upstairs. Where are you going? aren't you the host of this party?” You retorted, trying to move past him, but your efforts were futile.
“I don't want to be here either. It was my parents who forced me to do this. ‘You need to talk to new people!’ Yeah right,” Sunghoon complained, and you snickered in response. “My name is Sunghoon, by the way. You?”
“I'm y/n. Nice to meet you, Sunghoon,” You smiled in a way that made Sunghoon's heart do a backflip.
“Nice to meet you too, y/n. Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Your face burned up and you awkwardly laughed and thanked him. Not wanting the conversation to end, you attempted to think of a new topic.
“My sister thinks you like her,” You told him, “She said you were smiling at her differently when we entered.”
“Your sister?” Sunghoon scoffed, “Do you want to know who I was really smiling at?” His hands took yours, and when you didn't pull away, he took it as a sign to move closer.
“Tell me, Sunghoon. Who were you smiling at like that?” You knew the answer, and he knew you knew. That didn't stop Sunghoon from saying what was on his mind, “You. You're beautiful. Dance with me, please.” He moved your hands and his into position and started to gently move in a triple time rhythm. 
You weren't sure what to do at first, but you managed to figure out how Sunghoon was moving and match his pace.
Sunghoon's eyes opened as you leaned into him, and suddenly the smell of your blood drove him into a frenzy. He inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Y/n. You trust me, don't you?”
“Of course I do,” You answer, even if you had just met him. “Let me…” Sunghoon doesn't even finish his sentence before you feel a sharp pain on your neck and a groan from Sunghoon.
You opened your mouth to scream, only for the man you thought wouldn't hurt you to reach up and cover it. “Sorry,” He mumbled, lips still sucking on your skin. He licked the droplets of blood from the pierced skin and pulled away, gaze softening as he noticed your misty-eyed expression.
“Are you… a vampire?” You faltered, trying to ignore the stinging feeling on your neck.
“I am, I didnt want to scare you away this early. I'm sorry, y/n,” Sunghoon pulled you in for a hug, rubbing circles on your back. “Don't tell anyone, please.”
“I won't, promise.” You held up your pinky finger and he intertwined it with his; a promise that would last you for life.
Then, the two of you heard an indistinct shouting. “My father is calling, let's go down.  We should talk later.” 
When you and him went downstairs, you parted your separate ways. Sunghoon to his parents, you to your sister. 
“Y/n! Did you see Sunghoon? I wanted to ask him to dance, but he was nowhere!” Your sister asked you, shaking you back and forth. “What are those marks on your neck?”
Your eyes met Sunghoon's from across the ballroom. He winked at you, and you winked back at him. “I didn't see Sunghoon anywhere, sorry. Um… a mosquito bit me.”
“Yeah sure, I'm going to look for Sunghoon now, see you!” Your sister left you alone in the ballroom, with only a mark on your neck, a secret relationship, and a kept promise remaining with you.
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hacked-by-jake · 1 year ago
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I'm especially sad about the AI art statement.
No one ever said they can't use AI in general. Nobody said this. As long as they don't let the chats be written by AI they can use it for whatever they want.
Me personally, I'm a little fan of AI in general. ChatGPT took Googles place in many situations for me. It's super easy, super interesting and faster. I use it instead of reading millions of Google sites. (of course I don't trust everything right away, check your sources, lovelies)
But that's not what I want to say.
I saw no one complaining about the usage of AI in general. As long as its not creating the whole game and especially not what the characters say etc.
The critism was about the usage of AI ART, not AI in general, completely missing the point in my eyes.
And yes, they're right. AI became a huge part of our lives now. We find it everywhere and we won't get rid of it again. That won't happen. For me, it's okay as long as it's not used to generate money by letting it write texts and stuff.
And I'm completely fine with them using it. Of course, it's still stealing and I won't deny that, but as I said, we won't get rid of it again.
But the usage of AI generated Art is wrong and should actually be illegal. They, as a small developer studio, they should know and they do know, how it is when your work gets stolen and used by strangers.
And that's exactly what AI does. And that's not okay. It simply isn't. Every generated art is based on hundreds of real arts our there. The smallest artist who posts their work will be a victim of that. Because AI pulls it's knowledge and the ability for art out of every little art source there is. And that's wrong.
And I'm disappointed about their statement with this point.
And the second statement about AI art...
Yes, it's wonderful that you will introduce new actors to us. Great, amazing. And yes, we do remember how it was in Duskwood. And we do remember that actors were introduced after some time. Hannah joined in the last episode, and this was great.
But the huge difference is, you used stock photos. Real photography. Real designs. Created by photographers or whoever. The point here is: Real human. And real work.
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I don’t think I'm the only one. But the first second I saw the profile picture of Ash, immediately I was like "Hm, that reminds me straight up of arcane"
Which is logical when you use AI generated art because the AI of course uses at first the most popular references.
Fact is: We don't support the usage of AI Art in Moonvale.
Question is: Why didn't you use stock photos just like you did before?
Everbytes answer: Yes, okay, we can change their profile pictures. (Point done)
And I mean, come on. Violet has a freaking cat as profile picture. Where was the problem with just using a real cat for that? Nothing easier than finding a good picture of cats! 😭
And if you didn't want to use stock photos. Have you seen how many incredibly talented digital artists your fandom has? Have you seen the insanely good work they created for your game?
How about contacting a few of them? How about asking them to draw the characters you wanted to have? I'm 100% sure you wouldn't even have to pay them for. Most of them would do it for free right away.
Plus: Real art created by real people
Plus two: No money spending.
Yeeey.
And if you don’t want that...., ✨STOCK PHOTOS✨
To be honest, they took a crumb of the criticism, twisted it a bit. Used the word AI, twisted a bit more, left their statement and at the end they gave us a small little victory by saying "They get new profile picture, see we're listening to you". They gave us a little "victory" so that we hopefully will be satisfied and not mention it again.
That's it for this topic. For now
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eldritch-spouse · 2 years ago
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Pinnie I want Lacai to give me kissing lessons (I'm a virgin who's never been kissed even though I'm in my 20s it's so embarrassing)
[Oh shut it, things will happen when they're supposed to happen, jfc. Fem reader. Also, terrible idea as a whole.]
TW: Dubcon.
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Boy, he lucked out. Lacai really got lucky this time.
See, when Lord Vesper spends a little more time in the surface than usual, Lacai is allowed to wander. On a bit of a tight leash, but wander nonetheless. And when Lacai's crafty, when luck favors him, he can mingle with the perfect crowds.
What he didn't expect however, was to find someone amongst the crowds like you this time. A virgin. Cute, shy little thing. The type of human concubi in Lust would lick their lips at and claw each other over. He can picture it now, demons of all ranks circling around your helpless form like sharks in a tank, bloodshed and frenzied arousal, tugging at your clothes, groping, biting- You'd be ruined.
Which makes the impcubus all the more giddy to have you all to himself.
Lacai is shorter than you, and yet, when he first approached you, you nearly jumped out of your skin. He could hear your poor heart thunder against its ribcage, a hint of immediate desire muffled by the scent of great panic.
He had to beckon you somewhere quieter, hidden, to be able to have a real conversation with you, bring you out of your shell. This careful process is one that not all of his kin have patience or time for, but Lacai is no stranger to it, enjoying getting to know some of his meals on a deeper level. And besides, virgins should be treated with care. If he is to be your guide into shared carnality, then he must make more than a good impression.
Conversation flowed surprisingly easily between you two, gentle laughter and awe from your part as the imp regaled you with happenings from his home, his work. Most of them scandalous in some way or another... And, as time passed, the fear you exhibited started to melt, your tense shoulders relaxed, those small hints of want starting to grow into genuine thirst. Lacai himself blushed, the pull of a soul yet to experience sex being stronger on those of low-rank, he perspired faintly.
Without him even having to steer the topic too much, you eventually brought up your inexperience, your desire to experience things you claim most people your age already have. It struck him as a bit silly that you were complaining about it as if you were in a race to the finish line -When really these first experiences ought to not be rushed- But fiend that he is, Lacai was very quick to assure you that such a simple request could become reality.
You wanted experience?
You wanted a kiss from someone who's embraced many a lover before?
He'd do that for you.
It seems, much to his fortune, that sexuality isn't the only thing you are inexperienced in. Because anyone who has ever dealt with demons would think twice before accepting a transaction disguised as a favor.
You didn't.
You were as blind as a bat, seeing only your goals within reach, and not the teeth behind Lacai's smirk as he rested a hand on your cheek.
And so, committed to this, perhaps endeared by you, the dance started. With the servant of Lust setting up a specific time and place where the two of you meet, and he helps you "practice".
Truth be told, Lacai is getting a little too fond of these moments. Seeing the way your eyes light up with joy at the sight of him, how you shrink slightly in yourself but always manage some sort of cheeky greeting, your attention and the way you hang off his every motion is a sweet respite from his duties back in the Rings. Even if these moments are too wholesome for his tastes, leave him dreadfully famished by the end, Lacai finds them to be worth it. Because they're part of the game. Because he...
He's grown to like you. More than that, truly.
Which is interesting, he'd always thought himself a little too hedonistic to humor the idea of genuine love, something that isn't fleeting. The imp doesn't know where this is going, but he does know he wants to be a part of it.
He can dwell on it later, when he's not claiming your lips.
You were never a bad kisser. Timid, for sure, barely ghosting across his in your fear of upsetting Lacai, but not bad.
In fact, it's never been hard to sway you into the right movement. The way you're so responsive paired with his natural sensuality, the drunkenness of need, it all makes this learning process a lot easier than you were probably expecting it to be.
Every night you meet, Lacai takes it just a bit further. However much you're willing to humor.
It didn't take too long for him to be slipping his tongue into your mouth the same way he does now, playful yet full of fervor, every one of your explorative motions rewarded with more of his intensity and an encouraging moan.
A kiss from an incubus is a trap. A weapon. A deadly seal coated in saccharine promises you're too flustered to question. It's the lure that makes you set your foot in a bear trap with a smile on your face. All the tastes you've ever loved you shall find on his tongue and all the pleasures you've yearned for will manifest in your mind. To you, it's an unstoppable force.
You were never able to kiss him once and stop, as expected. From day one, you'd always follow when he would pull away, more for your sake than his. And he always took the care to stop when he thought you'd had enough to be kept wanton and anticipating the next time.
Lately though, it's getting harder to do such. Because the further Lacai lets himself go, the more he indulges you, the less willing he is to leave you- To leave a meal worth writing home about after sampling but the very tip of it. Painful.
" You're getting better. "
The impcubus praises as you part, having allowed you to take initiative just to see how far things had gotten. And while yes, you had made a lot of progress, swiftly on your way to becoming a better kisser than most humans- Most of his rabid enjoyment came from your touch, from the fantasies he keeps conjuring of you putting your lips elsewhere.
" You- You think so? "
The demon nods eagerly, a hand on the back of your head bringing you forward to lick the sheen off your lips, bite at your bottom one. His breathing was quick but yours came faster, it was something of an open secret that neither of you were doing this for the sake of learning anymore.
The next kiss is rougher courtesy of his excitement, but you can handle it, he's made sure of it. It's nothing new, even as his clawed fingers drift to your neck, tracing your throat and darting to your sides, hungrily groping, pulling you closer. A growl of his has you shivering just the way Lacai likes it, and he wonders for how much longer he can keep things tame.
His drool starts taking, as it always does.
Pretty eyes turn glassy, you nearly sway in his grasp, overheated, disoriented. You lean onto his pervy fondling and Lacai purrs his delight openly. A stream of soft, almost pleading noises dies muffled on his tongue, and he has to tense his every muscle not to throw you to the ground, show you what lies beyond hidden kisses- Make you feel it all firsthand, fuck you over and over and over and over so that you learn to be the very best. Trained by Vesper's head servant. Trained to be a fine example of his Ring's standards.
Lacai's greedy left hand finishes its trip up your thigh by dipping between your legs. The touch alone, even through your pants, is enough to sober you up some. When your legs try to close around his hand, either to trap it there or in a futile effort to remove it, he grins and presses harder against your core, another desperate gasp falling out of your slightly swollen lips.
" Mm, what's that face for? " He teases when you offer him a scandalized look.
" It's not all just kissing, you know honeybee? "
Lacai takes advantage of your contemplative silence to move his fingers towards your zipper, pulling it down playfully.
" What are you going to do when you want to move onto the next steps? I can help you prepare for that... "
" And then I can teach you how to touch others. " The concubus huddles closer, nearly panting. " After all, you have so much to learn... "
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chillydeer · 5 months ago
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Привет, Человек-мотылек!
My aunt introduced me to Astonishing Legends a couple nights ago, and so far I really like the podcast it's great, I watched all of the Mothman ones so far (that I knew of, I found out this morning there's a part 5) and while listening started drawing this lil fella.
I thought the whole thing was super interesting, I loved all the tangents, and most interestingly I tried to look into the 2013 show they mentioned, following the similar stories in Dalnegorsk. They mentioned it being entirely in Russian and hey, whaddya know, I'm trying to learn Russian anyways and figured it would help since I'm already interested in this topic and it would keep me engaged. Couldn't find it (I searched as well as I could, maybe I was using the wrong keywords, I couldn't find it in their show notes sadly, if you happen to know about it/have a link or something I would be thrilled to know) but I did make this art so! That's cool! I wanted to make him a little more detailed but also wanted it to kind of speak for itself? So I stuck with this.
Because I drew this up while listening, I very much took after the descriptions I was hearing with this design. He's kind of like a bird-man?? In a lot of the descriptions??? So I tried to combine bird and moth traits here. I love the neck fluff, any day I don't have to draw a jawline is a good day in my book, and I believe as they were going through the Dalnegorsk story one account mentioned bird-like feet with one toe on the back. Originally I actually skipped that, but it came up as I was doing the lineart so I went "oh that's a neat detail," and yeah, it looks better. At like the very end I gave him a second pair of little mothy arms on his back because they're cute and I figured moths have six legs Mothman can have four arms. Every description I saw specified big muscular legs, not skinny bird legs, So of course, I did my best.
Definitely in the Dalnegorsk part, they mention he just, gave them a sad look and it compelled them to back off, which didn't do much for the art in truth, but I found that very very interesting and sort of entertaining to think about. You got this big scary bird fella and instead of attacking them or scaring them he just pulled at their heartstrings, because he could.
Also complaining about folks exploring the mountain was kinda funny
Admittedly, I have a very love-hate relationship with drawing bird feet, because on one hand they don't come very easily to me, but on the other, they look really cool and I enjoy when they turn out good. This is one of those cases, at least in my opinion, where I do think they look nice.
All in all I love how this turned out, very big fan. Regarding the Russian up top, I also saw Молерот used for Mothman as it's shorter, but looking for more context almost everything I did see using it was Fallout-related, so I figured I'd just use Человек-мотылек as it at least seems to mostly bring up stuff about The Mothman Prophecies and some other stuff at least somewhat related to him. Not that the Fallout stuff isn't, I suppose, but that feels more like an offshoot in my mind.
If you have any tips (or learning resources that don't involve me paying for a subscription I'll hardly use- books, free stuff, etc) I'd be thrilled to hear it. So far I'm not having too hard of a time, though, the hardest part is the special characters so far but otherwise I'd say I'm doing well by my own standards.
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pixystixx · 1 year ago
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Hiiii can you do a pt 2 of you should date like maybe where reader and colby actually try dating but keep it a secret bc they just want it to themselves a but but a fan sees them together or smtg ??
You Should Date! (Part 2)
omg i'm sorry it's been like four months... i had to stop writing everything for awhile, so whenever i was writing i was only writing for my current fanfic. i finally am getting around to writing more things ago tho
colbybrock x f!reader
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Summary: Colby and you decide to give dating a try after weeks of tension and subtle hints. The two of you agree to keep it a secret. That doesn’t stop you guys from doing fun things. You decide to go on a little cafe date, but the risk is too great. What happens when a fan spots you guys?
༻❦༺
“I’m just so lonely these days,” you sigh. You’re lying on Colby’s couch, complaining about your dating life. You’re trying to make it sound like you don’t have a massive crush on Colby. You think maybe if you act extremely desperate, he’ll cave and suddenly start liking you. 
“Am I not enough for you?” Colby teases. You shake your head and groan. 
“I’m talking about my lonely romantic life. Are you my boyfriend?” You ask, looking at Colby with a deadpan stare. His cheeks turn red, and he shrugs. “That’s what I thought.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on being single. I’m sure if you asked any guy out, they would say yes,” Colby explains, “Hell, I’d probably date you.”
“Yeah, right,” You laugh. Even the slight possibility of that happening makes your face heat up. 
“Y/N, you are so fucking oblivious,” Colby huffs. He leans into you and grabs your chin, pulling your lips together. His lips are soft and push gently against yours. You both pull away from the kiss and look at each other awkwardly. Colby’s lips turn up into a smile. You touch your fingers to your lips, the feeling of Colby’s still lingering.
“Colby…” you mumble, “can I be honest with you?” He nods his head softly and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “I’ve liked you for a while. I thought that you’ve been messing with me. Were you actually flirting with me?”
“Y/N, I–,” Colby whispers. He doesn’t finish his sentence and stares at you silently. You tilt your head, confused. Colby smiles, puzzling you further. “I’ve been flirting with you for a year. I wonder how anything gets into that thick head of yours.”
You sigh and pout at him, “My head isn’t thick.”
“It took you until now to realize that I liked you,” Colby chuckles.
“You like me?”
“Of course I do,” Colby nods, caressing your cheek, “Will you be my girlfriend?” The sudden question makes your cheeks turn red. You fidget with your fingers and look down at Colby’s couch. Colby tilts your chin up with his hands, making you look into his eyes. His attention is too much, so you lean into his lips. You kiss him softly, trying to convey your feelings to his lips. You pull away, and he asks, “Is that a yes?” You smile, ruffling his hair.
“Colby, your fans are gonna think I’m some evil hoe taking you from them,” You blurt out, realizing the terms you just agreed to.
“That’s why we won’t tell anybody.”
༻❦༺
It’s been a few weeks since you and Colby started dating. You’ve been keeping in on the low, only telling Sam and a few other friends. Everyone’s been happy for you two. Today, you and Colby decided to go on a small cafe date. Nobody’s noticed your little dates. In reality, the new relationship hasn’t changed anything between you and Colby. Why would the fans notice?
Colby holds your hand subtly, just in case people are watching. You two walk into a small cafe that’s practically empty. Colby pulls out the chair for you, being the gentleman he is. He sits across from you. 
“You look really pretty,” Colby compliments you. You smile and hide your blush with your hands. “You should wear that dress more often.” You nod, and he laughs at your quietness.
“What should I get? I know you come here a lot,” you say, switching the topic. Colby hands you the cafe’s menu. He points to a few things on the menu. Colby orders a sandwich and a coffee. You ordered a wrap and a latte that sounded nice. Another couple with a dog walks in. Your eyes glimmer at the sight of the pocket-sized puppy.
“Your dog is so cute,” you say to the couple. The couple smiles, walking over to you.
“Thank you! We just got him a week ago,” the woman responds.
“Ah, he’s so little,” you marvel, “Can I pet him?” The woman nods, and you pet the dog carefully. He wags his tail, and you smile brightly. “Thank you so much! Enjoy your lunch!” The couple waves, sitting down at a nearby table.
“You’re too cute, Y/N,” Colby teases, pinching your cheeks. You kick him lightly under the table as your cheeks turn pink. Your food arrives, and you guys eat happily. You take a sip of your latte and feel the foam coat your lips. You lick off the foam, and Colby laughs at you.
“What?”
Colby reaches forward and wipes his thumb across your upper lip. There’s white foam on his finger, and you laugh. He licks the foam off his finger with a smile. 
“You’re so clumsy.” You shake your head. He nods. You reach across the table to kiss him. You peck his lips softly before sitting down again. Hopefully, no one saw.
༻❦༺
After your date, the two of you went home to watch a movie. You open your phone to find the internet in shambles. 
COLBY BROCK, NEW GIRLFRIEND!!!
COLBY BROCK SECRETLY DATING HIS BEST FRIEND?!?!?!?!
Y/N AND COLBY BROCK CAUGHT KISSING IN PUBLIC!
You and Colby sigh before tossing your phones on the bed. “Shit,” Colby mutters.
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lazilybeinglassie · 1 year ago
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Monkie Kid Season 5 Feelings
[SPOILERS AHEAD]
Okay, I will be brief about the animation, cause I would like to leave that topic be for a while. I wasn't happy about the drama it stirred, nor am I happy with the fans that made the drama worse. The most I will say is I liked it, I can live with it, it's not bad, it's just different. Next season I'm more confident it will be polished mote.
Now onto more serious matters . . .
This season was a lot. A lot of good, but a lot. The last few episodes especially were the most to digest with how fast some of the issues resolve or reveal themselves. It's most definitely feeling rushed and I wish it had more time to breathe. That being said, I can live with how they ended it.
MK and Wukong's relationship has been through so much and they do such a good job at keeping that as a priority. Every step has done it's job to make it so good and get people invested into it. Ima admit, I'm never gonna recover from MK using the circlet/fillet/crown thing on Wukong. That bit is gonna stung for a good while. And them just being there for each other during this whole thing is amazing and I wanna see more of them being friends/bros. I expect fans to make angst fics of bad endings for them to make my depression worse!
I also wanna say, huzzah for more Red Son and hinting at him becoming a part of the group! Finally he can be with em! My son is my favorite character of the series, and I love him like a mother would love him. Also, dragonfruit is always welcome! Sorry spicynoodles, I like this ship more, but I am a Chimera shipper as well.
Dadsy moments were perfect. There is nothing more to say. I adore it.
Now to talk about the Nine Headed Beast in the room . . . if I had a nickle for every Chaotic character I loved, I would have two nickles. Which isn't a lot, but it's gonna be a pattern at this point. Yes, I think his reveal was rushed. And yes, the fact they never forshadow him, it threw me off. But I am pleased we got him. Though I'll admit, I thought the 100 eyed Demon would be the big bad and the 9HB would be lower. Guess they pulled the wool over my eyes. Again, I cannot complain, cause I'm already liking this guy. If I get no mayor, he will just have to do for a replacement. Also, yes, toxic Nine and Mac will be something I wanna see. Fanfic writers, to your keyboards!
Overall, I think this season was great! I'll possibly post more thoughts in the future, but for now I wanted to get my general feelings out before I drown in my sorrows.
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