#any kind of input is appreciated!!
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Hey, on the topic of my own fic writing, I’ve got a question for my followers/fic readers.
I have a tendency to never post any of my writing, because my various unmedicated (I’m working on it) neurodivergences and mental illnesses make it very hard for me to ever finish pieces, and I feel really bad about starting a fic that someone could be really into and then potentially never finishing it when my brain suddenly decides I’m not allowed to write any more of it. So a long time ago I made it a rule for myself that I never post anything until it’s 100% finished, even if I have like multiple chapter that are perfectly ready to be published. Which ultimately leads to me never posting anything and sitting on a hoard of writing that only myself and select friends ever see.
So my question is, it more upsetting to read part of a story that might never get finished? Or to know that there’s writing out there that you don’t get to read just because it’s not finished?
#it can be distressing for me sometimes to read fics that will never be finished because I’m autistic#and so I think I’ve always viewed starting wips through the lence of my own experience and assumed everyone would prefer it if I keep my#writing to myself unless I can commit to finishing it.#but the other day I saw a recent bookmark on one of my unfinished w2h fics#(that I would still love to continue one day bc I have the whole thing meticulously outlined)#that said something to the affect of ‘really cool story it’s unfinished but still definitely worth the read n hey maybe itll update one day’#and it got me thinking that my way of experiencing things isn’t universal#maybe it’s worth more to share my writing with other fans who might love it even if there’s the potential that I may not finish it#maybe part of the reason I never finish anything is because I put too much pressure on creating a complete work rather than writing what I#want to write and enjoying the process even if it means I leave stories incomplete#anyway this is a lot more personal and speculative than I generally like to get on this blog since people follow it to see me draw#gay people kissing#but I’m a lot more likely to get responses on this blog and I could use some feedback#any kind of input is appreciated!!#I have 10s of thousands of words of fic that never see the light of day because of this#rambles#fan fiction#writing
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KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43
“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.
“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you.
He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!
What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.
“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze.
“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).
“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”
“I just need someone to watch over her.”
(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)
“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”
“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”
On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies.
Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.
“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.”
He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.
“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink.
“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”
A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”
“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.
“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”
Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.
“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”
“Thanks; I try my best.”
The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.
Just like a proud father.
“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”
And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.
“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously.
“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.
Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.
“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”
“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”
“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”
“Specific, eh?”
“Shut!”
When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.
But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.
“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.
“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.
“Just saying.”
“Whatever you say, Mommy.”
“Oh hush, Daddy.”
That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”
You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”
“I’m not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”
Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this.
Definitely missed you.
SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x reader#kenji x reader#kenji sato#ken sato#ultraman#ultraman rising#sato kenji#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ
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Lima Bean
pairing: kenji sato x reader
summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job
an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭
wc: 2k
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“I’m pregnant.”
Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked.
“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”
“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet.
“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion.
He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”
“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.
“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one.
You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”
“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”
You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”
“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”
“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.
He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”
“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.
“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.
He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”
He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there.
It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized.
“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed.
“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.
“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t allowed him the chance the last time you had met.
You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”
He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.
-❀-
The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there.
When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”
“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features.
As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?
You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS.
The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready.
As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“
“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put.
“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called. You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.
-❀-
The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape.
The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.
You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”
“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11.
Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet.
-❀-
These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.
-❀-
Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look.
Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked.
He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”
“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.
He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”
“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin.
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I have gotten a lot of messages saying that they really love the presentation of CURSE/KISS/CUTE. Often the commenter in question can’t say what exactly it is about the formatting that they appreciate, but that it just reads well and looks good. Well!!! Allow me to bare my wealth of secret knowledge for you once and for all:
I sorta just did some research into book typography...?
Here’s something you should know about web development, alright: typography on the web is really, really bad. The tools we have at our disposal—HTML and CSS—are incredibly powerful, but they are set up to fight you every step of the way towards Good Typography. When you know what you’re looking for, you can fix all the common issues quickly and easily. But it’s not easy to know what to look for, because
problematic typography is overwhelmingly the norm on the web, and
good typography is invisible.
Here’s a screenshot from CURSE/KISS/CUTE episode 0:
Now, I don’t want this post to come across as prescriptive. It is not my intention to tell you, “This is what good typography looks like, so follow my lead exactly.” I made a lot of choices with the typography of my web novel: many of those choices would not make sense in other contexts. What I want to convey to you is what those choices are, so that you will know they’re available to be made.
I mentioned that the web “fights you” when it comes to good typography. What do I mean by that? Well, check this out:
This is how that passage of text renders “by default.” In other words, this is how a web browser would render that text without any input from me about what styles to apply. It kind of sucks ass! But it also looks pretty familiar, right? This is not that far off from how a lot of websites—even websites full of prose (looking at you, AO3)—render text.
I think the most illustrative thing to do here would be to walk you through my thought process and show you, step by step, what decisions I made to turn this unstyled text into the styled version you see in the novel.
So, first things first:
1. We have got to shrink that text column.
Computer monitors... are wide. They are wider than they are tall. They are so wide, and they have so many pixels. This means you can fit a lot of characters on them. If you wanted, you could just have a wall of characters from the left side of the screen all the way to the right side. Talk about efficient!!
You should never, ever, ever do this.
This is one choice that I actually will make a prescriptive statement about, because it’s supported by quite a lot of research: fairly narrow text columns are more legible. Specifically, research seems to support the idea that a width in the range of 50 to 70 characters per line is the most comfortable for people to read*. Every font is different, so it takes a little doing to turn that “characters” figure into a pixel measurement; I went with 512 CSS pixels for the maximum width of my text column:
Isn’t that just so much nicer to read already?
*A commenter reminds me that I’d be remiss not to point out that the research on column width legibility isn’t completely conclusive. You do want to limit the width of your text columns, but going over the 70 character-per-line recommendation isn’t necessarily the end of the world, and you might have good reasons to do so. I did not: as mentioned, one of my goals was to mimic book-style typography, and books by nature have fairly restrained column widths, on account of they’re books.
2. Picking a font.
I’m not going to give you the blow-by-blow on how I decided what font to use. The short story is that I asked some designers, and one of the recommendations I got was the free font Crimson Pro, which I took a liking to immediately:
It’s just an all-around attractive serif font, but one thing I really like about it for use in a novel is its highly-visible quotation marks. They’re just kinda jumbo! They’re real big! Easy to see! In a novel, those things aren’t just ornamentation. It makes a great deal of practical sense for them to stand out just a bit. It also has a fairly large x-height, unlike a lot of the more traditional options, which is good for legibility on a computer screen.
3. Adjusting the line-height
Web browsers default to a line-height of about 1.2em, which, as you can probably tell, is quite cramped. If you go and Google “optimal line height for legibility”, you’ll get a number of results right off the bat suggesting 1.5em. Sounds good! Let’s do that:
Well... hmm. That’s definitely an improvement, but between you and me, it actually looks a bit too spacey to my eyes. I wonder why?
I’ll cut to the chase: the 1.5em recommendation makes some assumptions about the font you’re using. In Arial, the letter “A” is about 0.6em tall; in Crimson Pro, it’s about 0.5em. That means that there’s no one-size-fits-all solution to spacing your lines, because different fonts have different amounts of empty space baked in. How annoying!
Let me tell you something about the kind of nerd I am. When I had this realization, I grabbed some books off my shelf and pulled out a literal micrometer. I started measuring the line-heights against various font features to see if there were any patterns I could spot in professional typesetting. Here’s what I found:
Almost every book on my shelf spaces lines such that the distance between one baseline and the next is about three times the x-height. How cool is that? I clapped my hands like a seal when I put this together.
Adjusting the line-height to match what I observed in the wild gives us this:
It’s a subtle difference, but to my eyes it feels just right. It’s almost like magic!
4. Paragraph spacing...
Let’s address the elephant in the room. Probably the most controversial choice I made with CURSE/KISS/CUTE’s typography was to opt for book-style paragraph indentation rather than web-style paragraph spacing—like so:
I did this for a few reasons:
It’s what I’m used to. I’ve read a lot of books, and this is just the way that books are formatted. I think for something aspiring to the title of “novel”, there’s value in making it look the way a reader probably expects a novel to look.
A novel has a lot of paragraph breaks in it. A paragraph in, say, an encyclopedia entry might go on for half a page or more; whereas it is unusual for a paragraph in a modern work of narrative prose to run for more than a handful of sentences, especially in any scene with dialogue. Because paragraph breaks are so common, spacing between paragraphs in a novel results in a lot of wasted space. Also, subjectively speaking, the additional space seems to me to lend an undue amount of weight to paragraph breaks. I’m just starting a new thought; there’s no need for a 21-gun salute, you know?
Having said that, here are some good reasons you might decide not to do paragraph indentation anyway:
Doing it right requires a bit of extra legwork. Notice how the very first paragraph in the image above has no indentation. That’s because it’s the start of a new section, and the first paragraph in a section traditionally goes unindented. This is an easy detail to miss, and it can be difficult to wrangle CSS into doing it for you automatically.
Web users don’t expect it. For the first decade of the web’s existence, there was no good way to do paragraph indentation; by the time CSS rolled around and made it easy, paragraph spacing had already become the norm. And while CURSE/KISS/CUTE may be a novel, it is also, specifically, a web novel!
But it’s my house and I get to make the rules, so I went with indentation. Incidentally, there seems to be a dire lack of research into the question of whether indentation or spacing is more legible for readers—but the data that does exist appears inconclusive at best. So, the choice really does come down to vibes.
5. The tragedy of justification.
You’ll note that one way in which I did not make my web novel look like a paper novel is the text alignment. It’s un-justified: the right margin is ripsaw-ragged.
This is because it is not possible to justify text on the web.
Oh, you can try. Look right here: there’s a CSS property for it and everything. Just turn on “text-align: justify” and...
Nightmare! The interword spacing on that first line is almost as wide as the indentation!
Reader, I’m afraid that your web browser is simply too dumb. That’s not the browser’s fault: robust algorithms for justifying text without creating these distractingly huge gaps between words have existed for many decades, and modern computers are powerful enough to run them in real time with little performance impact. It’s just, uh—nobody has ever bothered to implement them into web browsers. It is the damnedest thing.
I tried, I really did. You can mitigate this problem a bit if you enable automatic hyphenation, but browsers are unfortunately also kind of dumb at hyphenating. Firefox, for example, will refuse to hyphenate any word containing a capital letter, so any sentence with a lot of proper nouns in it is a lost cause. I tried manually inserting soft hyphens with a text preprocessor I wrote myself, but still these overjustified lines plagued me: when the text column narrows, for example on a phone, even hyphens can’t save you. The line-breaking algorithm is simply too naïve to optimize for well-justified text, and that’s not something you can fix as a web developer.
As a result, my heavy-hearted recommendation is to never use text justification. It’s just too distracting.
6. And then some extra stuff just for me
I added drop-caps because it looks neat and I made the ellipses spacier because I think it looks good when it, uh, when they are spacier. I think that looks pretty good that’s just my opinion though.
That’s all! Hope you learned something bye!!!
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After the autobots eating puss hc I AM BEGGING for the Decepticons counterpart. Please please please pleaseeeeee I need my evil boys and girls eating pussy and eating it GOOD
Will be doing the cons I've seen until now in the show. So sorry Shockwave, you gotta wait this out.
Dreadwing is, to put it simply, horrible at eating out. Please don’t hold it against him, he wasn’t exactly out there back on Cybertron, and things got even worse when he was cooped up in his spaceship hunting down Autobots and Wreckers. Can he even remember when he last ate valve? Probably, Cybertronians have better memories than humans, but there’s no way he doesn’t cringe inside recalling the event. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s the furthest thing from a Casanova, the antithesis of a sex god. Show him some mercy and give him instructions, he’ll listen to them as best he can, you just wish he would go harder and stop holding back like you’re made of glass. To be fair, by Cybertronian standards you’re extremely fragile, but… you trust him enough not to kill you with his glossa. It’s all awkward licks without your input, staring down at your pussy like it’s a bomb he has to defuse, and it’s not very sexy when he’s analyzing your genitals instead of eating you out. He can treat you like a gentlebot as much as he wants, protectively cupping you in his servo while on his knees, bringing your little body to his intake and ex-venting against it, leaving shivers down your spine. But the second he gets to work it feels like you bought a vibrator on Temu and received a bootleg PS5 controller. Either you beat the circumstances and cum against his face, or you make no progress in the span of hours. Cut the guy some slack, he’s trying his best to please.
Skyquake has the opposite problem. No, sadly not in the sense that he can tongue fuck you until you see Primus and get a drawn out “Nice” from their God/Creator/Dad. Bad cunnilingus runs in the family. The issue is, he’s too rough. If it’s not the general glossa to clit action, it’s the way he’s holding you in his servos, digits wrapped too tightly around your itty bitty body, enough to make you wince. He will adjust his grip if asked, but don’t expect him to remember during the entire act. You offer a prayer to the fallen Cybertronians who had their anterior nods bitten off by a walking jet with no chill. Squirm too much and he’ll assume he’s doing a good job, beg him to stop and he’ll take it as encouragement to keep overstimulating you. Except it’s not overstimulation – oh no. He’s turning your pussy numb faster than you can say “I wish it was your brother”. He’s well-meaning, just too intense for your own good. You have to treat him like a rescue, lure him in with treats and train him to stop biting you at random intervals. If you manage, he’ll lower his aggression, if only a little bit, and he’ll try being more mindful of your reaction, shedding his one track mind for a night or two. There are complicated cases, then there’s Starscream who, like the drama queen he is, has to be number one in avoiding your genitals like the plague until he feels safe enough to give them a try. Ironic since he can shishkebab you with those giant claws, but dude needs to trust you enough if he’s going to stick his glossa between your folds. Worst thing is; he’s good. Not just good, but fantastic at eating out. Who fucking knows how many Cybertronians had their valves ruined at his servos, but you have to earn your keep, make it to the top of his most trusted list and reap your reward. He enjoys the act, leaning all casually against a wall with you in his servos, keeping your thighs apart with two sharp as steel digits; applying languid licks to your pussy until you’re shaking in his gentle grip. Buck into him, he encourages it, it feeds into his ego, and by Primus the more praise you slather onto your words the better he does. Give him any kind of appreciation and he’s clinging onto it like the holy grail. He gets off on pushing you to your limits, having you beg for more as he assures you in a silky voice that you will get your dues soon. Absolute 10/10, do recommend.
Soundwave does not possess a proper “mouth” by human standards, doubtful he even had one when he was forged. But he has a sort of… throat intake for lack of a better word which he uses to refuel. Fear not fellow robot-fuckers! He makes up for what he lacks in other ways, mainly making proper use of his tentacle-like cables, each possessing a number of thin wires. Under usual circumstances, he uses them to connect to machinery or, in case he needs an extra oomf during a brawl, lights his opponent the fuck up with one billion volts of pure ass-kicking electricity. Now, don’t worry, Soundwave isn’t planning on turning your pussy into a death row inmate. He’s got enough control over his own frame to avoid this worst case scenario, and he’s certainly not clumsy enough to accidentally fry your pussy like a thanksgiving turkey. Those wires feel way too good inside of you, dragging across your clit with ease and squirming between your folds like miniature tentacles. The whole ordeal is akin to a consensual hentai experience with no need to yamete kudasai him; he can gauge your reaction on his own. After all, as the Intelligence Officer, deciphering body language is a must.
If you're letting Airachnid eat you out, you have no survival instincts. I'm not saying you're an idiot, but you're widely overestimating her “kindness”. Let's all take a moment of silence for the fallen valves of innocent Cybertronians. If and only if she has the barest sliver of empathy, she's going to torture your pussy until you're a crying mess caught in her web, without turning you into her newest trophy once the deed is done. At least not a dead trophy, because once she gets her servos on your squishy little human body, you belong to her, a hypothetical deal with spider Satan in exchange for the best head of your life. She's cruel in every sense of the word, but her talent at pushing you to the brink of insanity leaves you willing to risk everything, including your genitals, in this one sided power dynamic. Bound in her web, she delights in ghosting her digits over your throat, pushing down just enough to remind you of your place in this bargain. She can end your precious organic life whenever she pleases, mixing fear with pleasure as she presses her lips to your pussy.
Breakdown is a special case, always has been. Among the vast majority of Decepticons, he doesn't aim to make you beg, nor to destroy your sense of self with his glossa. He's just… a guy, completely normal next to the others, and this, ironically enough, makes him stand out. He's good at what he does, not mind-blowing by any means, just average. He has practiced enough with valves and made his partners overload plenty of times. A pussy is small, sure, but he's had minicons before, you're in safe servos here; and he’s not rusty at it either, he's one of the very few Cybertronians on Earth who frags on the regular (in no small thanks to Knock Out). Contrary to what his status indicates, he's more than just the “smash your opponents into scrap” soldier. It feels nice to lower his inner walls around someone other than his partner. There’s a major difference between the self-assured intimidation he wants to exude and the softness he craves. As such, shows exceptional gentleness handling you, cupping you in his huge servos or, if you're a daredevil, holding your hips with two massive digits as you grind your pussy against his intake.
“Cute,” he thinks as you hump his face like an overly territorial parakeet. You may be a little shit, but you’re his little shit that he pampers and pleasures until you mellow out and relax against his chassis.
Knock Out fucks. End of discussion. He FUCKS. He has fragged on Cybertron, he's fragging on the Nemesis, you cannot stop him. Am I exaggerating? Possibly, but Knock Out is a young Cybertronian with the libido of an unneutered bull, so of course he can eat pussy. Issue is, he's smug about it, teasing you with the tip of his glossa until you beg him to put in some actual effort. He draws out your pleading until you have tears in your eyes, then he grants you the orgasm you've been dying for. Have fun being handled like a particularly juice push pop candy, you must sacrifice your dignity for robot cunnilingus. Knock Out may want you to assume he's a natural at human pussy, but the truth is; he's been googling the topic nonstop like a horny 14 year old on his dad's computer. He actively wants you to believe it’s an effortless task, you have no idea how much time and effort he puts into researching the topic, all for your admiration. Now please, give it to him, especially after all this hard work. Just don’t mention how you glimpsed his internet history.
Calling Megatron intimidating would be an understatement. Sharp denta don’t mesh well with pussy, nor does an ex-gladiator current warlord with your squishy body. But he “begs” to differ. Head from this bitch is the equivalent of sticking your entire hand in the jaws of a rabid rottweiler; you can do nothing but pray he doesn’t bite down. You’re the dumb little fleshling who found itself in his grasp, and he’s not letting go anytime soon. Human pussy is infinitely more fragile than Cybertronian valve, and he makes sure to remind you by skimming his jagged denta over your thighs. You’re caged in his servo, arms squeezed at your sides as you let the tyrant savor you to the last drop, leering down at you with half-lidded optics. He looks like he’s about to bite a chunk out of your private bits, and the fear makes you taste all the sweeter. Unscrupulous as he is, he has no shame stroking his spike during the act, growling between your legs promises of what’s to come. If you’ve survived this long, Megatron values you to a self-indulgent degree. Keep back and let his glossa drag you to the highest highs and the lowest lows, it’s not like you can do anything between those claws. He treats you as he pleases, but what pleases him most is making you cry out and twist in his grasp from overstimulation alone. Humans are so terribly sensitive.
#i swear to fuck if people get notified of the gifs i tried to get around i'm so sorry#transformers x reader#transformers x human#transformers prime#knockout tfp#valveplug#megatron x reader#tfp megatron#knockout x reader#tfp starscream#starscream x reader#tfp dreadwing#dreadwing#dreadwing x reader#skyquake#skyquake x reader#tfp airachnid#airachnid x reader#tfp breakdown#breakdown x reader#tfp soundwave#soundwave x reader
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GENTLEMAN AND THE LADY : NANAMI KENTO
you were six months pregnant and living with your roommate, nanami kento. after you mentioned that no one wants to take a pregnant woman on a date, he kindly offered to take you out himself ( also because he likes you ).
warning : non-sorcerer! nanami, roommate! nanami, fluff, pregnant! reader.
wc. 6,5k
just re-watched friends i just wanna make this where joey is taking rachel on a date when she's pregnant.
you and nanami are lounging on the couch in your cozy apartment, the soft light of the noon creating a warm ambiance around you. a bowl of popcorn rests between you, the buttery aroma mixing with the faint scent of your favorite candles flickering softly in the background. as you both settle into the comfort of each other’s company, you feel a sense of tranquility enveloping the space.
the sound of the television playing a lighthearted movie fills the room, but your focus is entirely on nanami. he leans back against the couch, a relaxed smile on his face, as he munches on a handful of popcorn. you can’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners when he’s genuinely enjoying himself.
after a moment of silence, he turns to you, his expression thoughtful. “hey, do you have any recommendations for a good place to go on a date?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. you can see him genuinely considering your opinion, and it makes your heart flutter a bit.
you ponder for a moment, glancing around the apartment as if the walls might offer a suggestion. “well, there’s that new café downtown that just opened. they have great pastries and a really nice atmosphere for conversation,” you suggest, recalling the charming details you’ve heard about it.
nanami listens attentively to your recommendation, nodding thoughtfully as his gaze remains fixed on you. he reaches for another handful of popcorn, munching on it as he mulls over your suggestion. “that sounds lovely,” he muses, a soft smile playing on his lips. “i appreciate your input.”
he leans back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “i must admit, i’ve been a bit uncertain about planning a date,” he confesses, his voice laced with a touch of self-consciousness.
“it’s been a while since i’ve done this,” he continues, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “i guess i’m a bit rusty.” he looks at you with a soft, almost sheepish expression, seeking reassurance as his eyes search yours.
you frown, a hint of disbelief in your voice as you respond, “rusty? what do you mean by that? you can’t possibly think of yourself like that.” you shake your head, wanting to emphasize your point. “you’re kind, respectful, and such a gentleman. every woman wants that in their life—at least that’s what i want.”
nanami listens intently to your words, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes in the sincerity of your response. a slight flush of embarrassment spreads across his cheeks, but there’s a hint of gratitude in his expression as well.
he chuckles softly, a mixture of humility and appreciation in his voice. “you flatter me, truly,” he says, his gaze softening. “but i admit, i’ve been out of the dating scene for some time now. it’s been a while since i’ve seriously considered taking someone on a date.”
you can’t help but smile at his honesty, feeling a warmth growing in your chest. “the girl who’s going to be your girlfriend is going to be very lucky,” you tell him earnestly. “i’ve been dating on and off, but i’ve never had someone like you as my boyfriend.” your voice carries a hint of nostalgia as you reflect on your past relationships. “most of what i’ve experienced has been… well, let’s just say not the best. all i have is someone who knocked me up, and nobody want to take a pregnant woman on a date,” you add, glancing down at your visible bump with a wry smile.
you’ve been pregnant for over six months now, and while the journey hasn’t been easy, you’ve embraced it with a sense of determination. although you and your ex decided to keep the baby, you both agreed to remain civil about it without getting back together. it was a decision rooted in mutual respect, allowing you to navigate this new chapter in your life while maintaining your independence.
nanami’s usually stoic facade shifts slightly as he takes in your words. there's a hint of disbelief in his eyes when you mention your previous partner, and his protective instincts seem to kick in. he leans in a bit closer to you, his expression now one of concern.
“i’m sorry you had to experience that,” he says quietly, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of anger at the thought of someone treating you poorly. “you deserve better, especially in your condition. no one should have to deal with that kind of treatment, especially while expecting a child. if you don’t mind, i could take you on a date..”
nanami falters for a moment, his words caught in his throat. he seems to hesitate, as if struggling with something internal. his gaze drifts downward, his eyes fixating on your visible bump, and a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability floods his expression.
he takes a deep breath before speaking again, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “i would never treat you like that,” he says hoarsely, his eyes meeting yours.
your eyebrows raise in surprise, and a smile spreads across your face at his words. “do you really mean it? you’re actually offering to take me on a date?” the excitement in your voice is unmistakable, and your heart races at the thought of spending time with him in that way.
nanami's heart skips a beat at your reaction, your enthusiasm mirroring his own feelings. he straightens up slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, and he nods in response.
“yes, of course,” he replies, his voice slightly breathless. “i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t mean it.” he leans in a bit closer, his expression now a mixture of anticipation and tenderness. “i’d gladly take you on a date, if you’ll allow me.”
you raise an eyebrow, a hint of confusion crossing your face as you ask, “but what about your date?” your voice is curious, a bit puzzled by the implication that he had plans before this moment. “i thought you were going to take someone else out?” you add, wanting to clarify, the excitement of your own offer mingling with a tinge of uncertainty.
nanami glances away for a moment, his expression becoming slightly sheepish as he realizes the disconnect between your understanding and his original plans. he runs a hand through his hair, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“well, my plans were somewhat...open-ended,” he admits, his tone a mix of sheepishness and honesty.” he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of vulnerability. “i hadn’t actually asked anyone out yet.”
he rubs the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment in the gesture, as he looks at you sheepishly. “to be honest, i was just trying to figure things out and..” he trails off, searching for the right words.
he takes a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours with a newfound determination. “i guess you could say you were always on my mind as a potential date, but i was just struggling to find the courage to ask you.”
your eyes widen slightly in surprise, and a soft smile spreads across your face as you respond with a simple, “oh?” the word hangs in the air for a moment as you take in what he’s just revealed. then, your smile grows, and you add, “well, i’d love to go on a date with you, ken.” your voice is warm, filled with sincerity as you meet his gaze, feeling a sense of excitement and tenderness bloom between you.
nanami’s eyes widen at your response, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over his features. his usual composed demeanor seems to soften, his expression tinged with an almost boyish charm.
he leans a bit closer to you, a lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “really? you truly would say yes to me?” he asks, still somewhat in disbelief. “i thought you’d be reluctant since...” he glances towards your bump, his expression slightly sheepish.
you chuckle softly at his disbelief, your eyes glancing down at your bump for a moment before returning to his. “i’m glad you asked,” you say with a playful yet sincere tone. “since, you know, it’s not like there’s a line of people wanting to take a pregnant woman on a date.” your words are lighthearted, but there’s a trace of truth in them. your smile grows warmer as you add, “but you... you did, so yeah, i’m happy.”
nanami's eyes light up at your response, his expression becoming softer as he listens to your words. there's a mixture of appreciation and a hint of protectiveness in his gaze as he smiles back at you.
he shakes his head slightly, a hint of disbelief and amusement in his voice. “i can’t believe i’ve been overthinking this for so long when all i had to do was ask.” he reaches out to gently place his hand on yours a moment, his touch warm and comforting. “i’m happy too,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.
you smile warmly at nanami, feeling a sense of comfort and affection in the moment. without hesitation, you gently intertwine your fingers with his, the simple gesture solidifying the connection between you. “then it’s decided,” you say softly, nodding as your eyes meet his with a sense of certainty and excitement. the warmth of his hand in yours feels reassuring, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation for what’s to come.
nanami's eyes widen slightly at the feeling of your fingers intertwining with his, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected yet welcome gesture. there's a brief hint of surprise in his expression, but it's quickly replaced by a tender smile.
he laces his fingers with yours, his grip firm and steady. he gazes back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and newfound confidence.
“it is,” he whispers, a hint of excitement in his voice. he leans in a bit closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “i’ll plan something special for us.”
the atmosphere around you both seems to crackle with a sense of anticipation and excitement, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the connection you've just established. the quiet of the room feels almost charged with an unspoken tension, the silence broken only by the faint hum of the movie playing in the background.
nanami keeps his hand intertwined with yours, his thumb gently moving over your skin in a soothing motion as if he's savoring this newfound closeness. his eyes remain fixed on your face, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
later that evening, you were adjusting the last details of your outfit when you heard a knock at the door. thinking nanami might answer, you call out for him, but there's no response. slightly puzzled, you walk to the front door yourself, expecting maybe a delivery or someone else.
as you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of nanami standing there, looking more put together than ever, a soft smile tugging at his lips. his presence takes you by surprise, especially with the beautiful bouquet of flowers he holds out toward you. the delicate blooms seem to mirror the warmth in his eyes.
“for you,” he says softly, his voice warm and sincere as he hands them over, waiting for your reaction.
a surprised laugh escapes you as you take in the scene. “what are you doing out here?” you ask, shaking your head with amusement as you reach for the flowers. “are you pretending to pick me up?”
nanami’s smile widens at your question, seemingly amused that you’ve called him out on his unusual arrival. his eyes remain fixed on yours, a hint of playfulness dancing in their depths.
he shrugs slightly, a charmingly sheepish expression on his face. “i thought it would be a nice way to start our date,” he replies, his tone laced with a touch of charm. “i wanted to play the part properly.”
he steps a bit closer, the scent of his aftershave mingling with the fragrance of the flowers he’s handpicked for you.
you look up at him with a soft smile, warmth spreading through you as you take in his thoughtfulness. “thank you, ken,” you say, your voice sincere. “you didn’t have to go all out, but i appreciate it.”
glancing down at the flowers in your hand, you feel a surge of excitement for the evening ahead. “i’m just going to grab my bag, and then we’re good to go.” with one last smile, you turn back inside, the sound of nanami’s quiet chuckle following you as you head to finish getting ready.
nanami watches you as you retreat into the apartment, his eyes following you with a mixture of fondness and a hint of anticipation. a soft smile graces his lips as he stands there on the doorstep, patiently waiting for you.
he rocks back and forth on his feet, his thoughts swirling with excitement for the night ahead. he’s confident, but there’s a slight fluttering in his chest that reminds him that this is more than just a casual hangout.
a few moments later, you reappear from the apartment, your bag in hand.
“ready?” he asks, extending his hand out to you.
you smile warmly, feeling a little flutter in your chest as you see nanami standing there, his hand extended toward you. without hesitation, you nod and gently take his hand, the warmth of his palm instantly comforting. “ready,” you reply softly, your fingers intertwining with his.
there’s a quiet excitement between the two of you as you step outside together, hand in hand, ready to enjoy the night ahead.
you and nanami sit across from each other in the cozy café, the soft glow of the dim lights casting a warm, intimate atmosphere around you both. your plates are half-finished, but neither of you seems too concerned with the food as you focus on each other. nanami gently holds your hand across the table, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, and there’s a soft, tender smile playing on his lips.
as you both talk, your conversation is filled with warmth, the kind that makes you forget about everything else. the sounds of soft music and quiet chatter from other tables fade into the background. nanami’s deep, steady voice is soothing, and his eyes never leave yours, as if he’s fully present, hanging on to every word you say.
nanami’s gaze never wavers as he listens to your words, his focus intently on you. there’s a sense of care and concentration in his expression, as if he's absorbing every detail of your conversation.
he continues to absently run his thumb over your hand as you talk, a small gesture of affection and connection that adds to the warmth of the moment. he occasionally leans in slightly closer whenever you pause, as if to ensure he doesn’t miss a single syllable.
occasionally, he contributes to the conversation with soft, thoughtful responses, his words chosen carefully to match your tone and topic.
the atmosphere around you both feels almost like a cocoon, the café’s ambiance creating an intimate space that allows you to fully immerse yourselves in the conversation. it’s almost as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you in the cozy, private bubble.
nanami’s fingers gently play with your knuckles, his touch light yet reassuring, as if he’s silently conveying that he’s right here with you, completely present in the moment.
the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, the topics weaving seamlessly from one to the next. nanami’s eyes are fixed on you, his gaze never wandering as he listens intently. his smile grows more relaxed and genuine as time passes, a clear sign that he’s enjoying himself immensely.
he occasionally squeezes your hand softly, not breaking the flow of the conversation but rather subtly communicating a sense of comfort and familiarity through his touch.
nanami suddenly interrupts, you pause, mid-sentence, your words hanging in the air. his apology is soft and genuine, but what follows catches you off guard. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but… i just want to tell you that you’re so beautiful tonight,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.
your breath hitches for a second, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected compliment. the warmth in his eyes is unmistakable, and it sends a gentle flutter through you. his words settle between you, quiet yet powerful, leaving you momentarily speechless.
the moment hangs in the air as you let his words sink in, the unexpected compliment setting off a flutter of emotions within you. your heart skips a beat, a warm shiver traveling down your spine at the genuine sincerity in his voice and the warmth in his eyes.
for a moment, you’re speechless, your mind racing to find the right response to such a heartfelt compliment. it takes a few beats before you’re able to respond, your voice soft and a bit shaky.
“thank you,” you breathe, your cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
nanami’s eyes soften as he sees the effect of his words on you, the sight of your cheeks flushed with a hint of pink making his heart skip a beat. he can tell that his compliment has caught you off-guard, but the sincerity of it remains. he gently squeezes your hand again, his touch a silent reassurance and comfort, as if he’s anchoring you back to the moment. he looks at you intently, his voice warm and sincere.
“i mean it. you look absolutely stunning tonight.”
you feel the warmth of his words settle deep within you, your cheeks still slightly flushed as you smile softly. meeting his gaze, you squeeze his hand back, your voice gentle yet teasing. “you’re one to talk,” you say, your eyes sparkling as you take him in. “you look handsome too, as always.”
your compliment lingers in the air, and you can see a faint blush rise on nanami’s cheeks, the usual calmness in his expression giving way to a quiet appreciation. you feel the warmth of the moment surround you both, an unspoken understanding in the air between you.
nanami’s lips quirk into a small, boyish smile as he registers your compliment, his usually composed demeanor faltering for just a moment. a soft blush tinges his cheeks, betraying his slight embarrassment at your words.
he ducks his head slightly, his smile growing more genuine as he lets out a soft chuckle, his thumb beginning to once again gently stroke your knuckles. “thank you,” he murmurs, his tone soft and just a touch sheepish.
he looks back up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. the usual calm confidence has been replaced by a hint of warm, a subtle sign that your words have gotten to him more than he lets on.
he doesn’t say anything for a moment, simply holding your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of warmth, affection and maybe even a hint of something more, something that’s still taking root. the cafe’s soft background music fills the brief silence, a gentle reminder of the world outside their little bubble. after a beat, he breaks the gaze to look down at your entwined fingers, a thoughtful expression clouding his features as he seems to mull over something in his mind.
he runs his thumb over your knuckles again, as if the act is grounding him in the moment, a soothing habit. then, he looks back up at you, his gaze fixed on your face.
“can i ask you something?” he says quietly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. you meet his gaze, noticing the subtle shift in his expression, and nod with a soft smile. your fingers squeeze his gently in encouragement as you say, “of course.” there's a warmth in your eyes, letting him know you're open to whatever he wants to ask.
nanami takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping momentarily to where his thumb is still absently rubbing circles over your knuckles. he seems to be collecting his thoughts, silently preparing himself to ask whatever question is on his mind.
finally, he looks back up at you, his eyes locking onto yours with sincerity and vulnerability. his voice is soft, but steady.
“can i be honest with you?” there’s a hint of trepidation in his eyes, as if he’s unsure of how you might react to whatever he’s about to say. his grip on your hand is still firm, his touch steady, but there’s a subtle tension in his body, as if bracing himself for your response.
the quiet chatter of the café fades into the background as he waits for your response, his eyes fixed on your face, searching for any sign of how you might take his question.
you tilt your head slightly, your soft smile never faltering. the sincerity in his voice makes your heart flutter, and you gently squeeze his hand in reassurance. “always,” you reply, your voice equally soft, encouraging him to speak freely. your eyes meet his, conveying that whatever he has to say, you’re ready to listen.
nanami’s expression relaxes a bit as he hears your answer, the reassurance in your voice settling something within him. his grip on your hand tightens just a fraction, as if drawing strength from your presence.
he takes a deep breath, his eyes drifting down to your entwined fingers for a second before coming back up to meet yours. “it’s just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to phrase what he’s trying to say. there’s a hint of uncertainty in his gaze, as if he’s struggling with voicing his thoughts.
he looks down again, his thumb continuing its nervous dance on your knuckles, the soft caress like a quiet plea for understanding. it’s clear that whatever it is he wants to say is not an easy topic for him to bring up, judging by the way his eyes dart between your joined hands and your face.
he takes another deep breath, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours again, his voice a bit more determined this time.
“it’s just that… i care about you. a lot more than you might realize.” the vulnerability in his eyes is undeniable, the truth of his words laid bare for you to see. there’s a quiet intensity in his gaze, as if he’s silently asking you to understand the depth of his feelings without him having to spell it out.
he lets out a soft sigh, almost like a quiet confession, his fingers tightening around yours just a bit more. “more than i should,” he adds quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
you smile softly at him, the weight of his words settling in your heart as your expression warms. without breaking eye contact, you gently place your other hand on the table, a silent invitation for him to take it. nanami looks at your gesture, his hesitation melting away as he places his hand in yours, entwining your fingers with a delicate care.
“thank you, ken,” you say quietly, your voice filled with sincerity. “i’m grateful for that… for you. you’ve made things easier for me, especially with the baby on the way. i couldn’t have asked for a better person to be by my side.” your gaze is steady, your words carrying the truth of how much his presence has meant to you.
a soft, almost disbelieving smile tugs at the corners of nanami’s lips as he takes in your words, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of wonder and gratitude. it’s as if your words have reached deep within him, touching a part that’s been yearning for this connection.
he squeezes your hand gently, the touch of his fingers against yours anchoring him in the moment.
“i… i didn't think you felt that way,” he admits, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice. “i thought maybe... i was being too much.”
you quickly shake your head, squeezing his hands gently as you lean in slightly, your eyes filled with sincerity. “no, ken, you’ve never made me feel that way,” you say softly, your voice firm but kind. “if anything, you make me feel incredibly lucky. i don’t know how i would’ve gotten through all this without you, especially with everything happening.”
your gaze softens, a small, appreciative smile playing on your lips. “even though we’ve only known each other for a year, you’ve shown me so much care and support. i can’t thank you enough for that.”
nanami’s expression softens even further at your words, a wave of relief and gratitude washing over him. it's clear that your reassurance means a lot to him, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
he lets out a soft sigh, his grip on your hands tightening a fraction. “good. i’m glad i haven’t crossed any boundaries,” he says, a hint of a smile appearing in his eyes. “i… i don’t want to overstep. i just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
after your lovely date at the café, nanami leads you to a nearby ice cream parlor, the sweet aroma of freshly made waffle cones wafting through the air as you step inside. the vibrant colors of the ice cream flavors are a delightful sight, making it hard to choose just one. you both eventually settle on your favorites and exit with tiny paper bowls of ice cream in hand.
as you sit on the bench outside, the evening breeze carries a hint of warmth, making the moment feel cozy and relaxed. you take a spoonful of your ice cream, savoring the cold, creamy sweetness while watching nanami as he takes a bite of his own. a small smile spreads across his face as the flavors hit his palate, and you can’t help but chuckle at how genuinely happy he looks.
nanami glances over at you, his eyes tracking your movements as you take a spoonful of your ice cream. he watches as your expression changes with the creamy sweetness, and it brings a genuine smile to his face.
he savors his own bite, the cold, soothing sweetness a welcome treat on a warm evening. he notices your chuckle and raises an eyebrow in an amused question. “what’s so funny?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of mock curiosity.
you shake your head, unable to suppress a chuckle as you glance down at your ice cream, trying to hide your smile. “you look so giddy, like a little kid,” you tease, unable to resist the playful jab.
nanami lets out a soft scoff, a hint of mock offense in his eyes. “ i do not,” he replies, his tone trying to sound indignant but betrayed by the hint of a smile at the edges of his lips. “i’m just… enjoying my ice cream.”
he takes another deliberate bite, as if to prove his point, his expression exaggeratingly serious. “i’ll have you know i’m a professional, serious adult. this is just the proper reaction to good ice cream.” he takes another bite, as if proving a point, his expression still playful.
you nod, humming teasingly as you lean closer, a playful grin on your face. “oh, really? you do, do you?” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him, clearly enjoying the light-hearted banter. your tone playful as you take another bite of your own ice cream, reveling in the moment.
nanami’s eyes narrow a bit at your challenge, a hint of a competitive spark igniting in his gaze. he leans in closer to you, the gap between you shrinking to mere inches.
“oh, i absolutely do. i’m a perfectly serious, dignified adult,” he says, his tone mock-serious once more, a playful glint in his eyes. “ice cream does not make me giddy or childlike. not at all.” he takes another deliberate bite, maintaining eye contact with you as he does, as if daring you to contradict him.
you lean in closer, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you playfully agree, “of course, how could i forget? the epitome of seriousness!”
the warmth radiating from his chest brushes against your arm, and you can’t help but smirk, your tone dripping with mock sincerity. “i mean, who wouldn’t be totally composed while eating ice cream?” you maintain the playful tension between you, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you challenge him silently, clearly enjoying this lighthearted moment together.
nanami’s expression remains mock serious, his eyes locked onto yours even as the corners of his lips threaten to twitch into a smile. he’s clearly enjoying the playful banter as much as you are, his competitive streak coming out in full force.
“exactly,” he says, his voice still maintaining that overly serious tone. “ice cream consumption requires the utmost composure and maturity.” he takes another deliberate bite, holding your gaze for a moment before adding, “though it seems you’re also having some trouble keeping a straight face.”
his shoulders brush against yours gently, and he leans in a bit closer, his proximity creating an intimate but playful atmosphere between the two of you.
“it’s like you’re trying to challenge my serious ice cream-eating skills,” he adds, his voice still tinged with mock offense, but his eyes sparkling with mischief. “and we can’t have that, can we?”
you scrunch your nose, a playful smile breaking across your face as you shake your head. “oh no, we definitely can’t have that!” you respond, your tone light and teasing. “i wouldn’t want to challenge your serious ice cream-eating skills. that would be too much pressure!”
leaning in slightly to match his playful intensity, you add, “besides, you’ve got the whole ‘mature ice cream connoisseur’ vibe down perfectly. i wouldn’t stand a chance.” the atmosphere between you feels charged with laughter and warmth, and you can’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the moment, feeling utterly at ease in his presence.
nanami lets out a soft scoff, his expression maintaining the mock serious facade, but the amusement in his eyes is clear to see. “of course, you’re right. it would be unjust to challenge my mastery in ice cream consumption. it’s a skill cultivated over years of careful refinement and dedication.”
he takes another deliberate bite, his eyes still locked onto yours as he continues his little act of exaggerated seriousness. “i’ve honed my technique, studying the perfect temperature, texture, and flavor balance. it’s an art, really.”
you nod, suppressing a laugh as you play along with his act. “wow, you really do sound like an ice cream expert,” you say, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “with all that dedication and refinement, I’m starting to think you should consider a career change. maybe open an ice cream shop or something.”
leaning in closer, you tease him further. “just imagine: ‘nanami’s ice cream academy,’ where you teach everyone the fine art of ice cream consumption. i can see the slogan now: ‘because every scoop deserves a serious approach.’”
the playful banter flows effortlessly between you, making the evening feel even more special.
nanami lets out a soft snort, his mock serious demeanor faltering for just a moment as he struggles to maintain his composure. he can’t help but let a small, genuine smile slip through as he shakes his head at your suggestion.
“ice cream academy? that’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?” he replies, his tone playful but feigning seriousness. “though i must say, the idea of a ‘serious ice cream consumption school’ does have a certain ring to it.” he takes another bite, leaning in a bit closer. “hmm… something to consider, maybe.”
you look at him with a wide smile, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you shake your head. “you’re so silly,” you say, letting the warmth of the moment linger in the air.
there’s a lightness between you, and the playful banter makes everything feel effortless. the street’s soft ambiance continues to wrap around you, creating a perfect backdrop for the connection you both share.
nanami lets out a soft sigh, his mock serious facade finally collapsing as a smile fully takes over his face. he can’t help but let out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he looks at you.
“i can’t help it,” he admits, his tone lighthearted. “you bring out the silliness in me, i guess. plus, it’s hard to be serious when i’m having so much fun.” he takes another bite, savoring the sweetness as he watches you, the light of the streetlamps casting a soft glow on your face.
nanami feels a surge of warmth as he watches you, your smile brightening the moment. the closeness between you feels natural and comforting, but he hesitates, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. he glances at your shoulder, his heart racing slightly at the thought of wrapping his arm around you.
with a gentle and respectful tone, he asks softly, “would it be okay if i put my arm around your shoulder?” his voice is laced with sincerity, hoping to convey his genuine intention to make you feel comfortable and cared for. he wants to bridge that last bit of distance while ensuring you feel at ease with the gesture.
you immediately catch on to his hesitation and the reason behind his question, and your heart swells at the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. you know that he’s being respectful of your feelings and boundaries, and it warms your heart to know that he cares so deeply about making you comfortable.
without any hesitation, you reply with a warm smile, nodding your agreement. “of course,” you say, your voice soft and sincere. “i would like that very much.”
nanami’s heart skips a beat, a wave of relief washing over him as you accept his offer with a gracious nod and a warm smile on your lips. he had been so worried about overdoing it or making you uncomfortable, but your eager response dissolves any doubts he might have.
he scoots a bit closer, closing the small gap between you as he gently slips his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. the weight of his touch is light and comfortable, a subtle display of affectionate care. he looks over at you, silently asking for confirmation that he hasn’t overstepped.
you look up at him with a soft smile, your eyes sparkling with warmth as you silently reassure him that he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries. the gentle pressure of his arm around your shoulder feels comforting, and the connection between you deepens in that moment.
the ambiance of the street seems to fade into the background as you both share this intimate space, filled with laughter and understanding. it’s as if the world outside your little bubble doesn’t exist, and in this little bubble, you feel at ease and genuinely happy to be here with him.
as you flash him a warm smile, it’s as if a knot of tension he didn’t even realize he had, in his chest loosens. your silent reassurance that he hasn’t crossed any boundaries further eases his mind. having you so close like this, feeling the weight of your body against his arm and the warmth of your presence, it’s everything he’s hoped for and more.
he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, his fingers lightly tracing small circles on your skin, an affectionate gesture that speaks of his contentment in this moment.
“do you have a good time?” nanami asks, his voice gentle yet filled with anticipation as you both come to a stop in front of your shared apartment door. the cool evening air wraps around you, but his black coat drapes over your shoulder, providing a comforting warmth that lingers like a gentle embrace.
you look up at him, taking a moment to soak in the soft glow of the light above that casts a warm light over his features. his eyes, usually so serious, shine with a hint of vulnerability, revealing the underlying excitement he felt throughout the evening. the way he looks at you, with such genuine interest and kindness, makes your heart flutter.
with a smile spreading across your face, you nod enthusiastically. “i had a very good time,” you reply, your voice light and sincere. the memories of the evening—the laughter, the playful banter, and the sweet moments shared—flood your mind, filling you with warmth.
“thank you for taking me on a date,” you add, your tone laced with gratitude. you can see the corners of his mouth lift slightly, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks at your words. he seems genuinely pleased by your response, and it’s clear that this evening meant as much to him as it did to you.
nanami’s heart skips a beat as he listens to your response, the sincerity in your voice and the gratitude in your expression make his spirits soar. the blush on his cheeks is evident, his expression betraying a mixture of joy and slight embarrassment, but he maintains his composure as he responds, his tone gentle and sincere.
“good,” he replies, his voice filled with relief and joy. “i’m glad to hear that.”
he takes a small step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets as he continues. “i was worried i might have... overdone it.” he gazes into your eyes, his expression growing more earnest, the vulnerable glimmer in his gaze becoming more prominent. “i just wanted everything to be... just right. perfect, even.”
he lets out a soft sigh, a mixture of tension and relief escaping his lips with the exhale. “i guess i was a bit on edge, hoping you’d like everything.”
your heart swells at his words, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability in his gaze. you take a small step closer, closing the distance between you, your smile widening as you reassure him. “you haven’t overdone anything,” you say, your voice soft yet confident. “everything was perfect. I had an amazing time, and I’m very happy.”
you can see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as your words sink in, a wave of relief washing over him. the blush on his cheeks deepens, and you can't help but admire how endearing he looks, balancing that gentle masculinity with a hint of shyness.
“seriously,” you continue, wanting him to fully grasp how much this date meant to you. “from the flowers to the dinner, every little detail was thoughtful and sweet. it really made me feel special.” you pause for a moment, letting your gaze linger on him, conveying the warmth you feel inside.
his eyes soften even more, and you can see the gratitude radiating from him. it’s in the way he smiles, his expression a mix of joy and relief, and you realize that he truly values your happiness just as much as his own. “thank you for being so wonderful,” you add, feeling a rush of warmth between you two as you share this moment together.
as your words sink in, nanami feels a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that his efforts haven’t gone unnoticed or unappreciated. he basks in the warm glow of your approval, your sweet compliments and genuine smile making him feel as if he’s floating on air.
he lets out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as the tension dissolves from his body, his heart lighter than it's been in a long time. he takes a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he responds in a soft, sincere voice.
“thank you… for being so understanding and kind.”
nanami’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, his expression warm and appreciative. he notices how the evening chill begins to settle around you, the gentle breeze brushing against your skin, and he instinctively wants to ensure you’re comfortable.
“it’s getting cold and late,” he finally says, his voice taking on a more serious tone, though there's still a hint of tenderness in it. “you should head inside.”
he pauses for a heartbeat, the corner of his lips curling into a playful smirk as he adds, “just pretend i’m dropping you off like a gentleman, okay?”
the lightheartedness of his remark brightens the atmosphere, but there’s an underlying sincerity behind it as well. he takes a small step back, maintaining a respectful distance, allowing you the space to feel comfortable as you reach for the doorknob.
“after all,” he continues, “a gentleman always makes sure the lady gets home safely.” his playful tone mingles with a softness in his eyes, and you can tell he truly enjoys these moments with you, cherishing every shared smile and laugh.
you can't help but laugh softly at his playful comment, his gentle smirk instantly putting a smile on your face. the way he maintains a respectful distance while making sure you feels safe and comfortable makes your heart skip a beat.
“okay, i’ll play along,” you reply, playing along with his little game, your tone warm and teasing. “but only because you’re being such a perfect gentleman, of course.” you reach for the doorknob, your hand lingering on it as you turn back to look at him once more.
you pause for a moment, the playful banter hanging in the air like a warm embrace. the smile on your face reflects the joy he brings, and you can’t help but feel a sense of lightness in your heart.
“don’t forget to be safe on your way home, mister gentleman,” you tease, your tone light and playful, as you look back at him. your eyes sparkle with warmth, and you can see the way his cheeks flush slightly at your words, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his demeanor.
“i wouldn’t want anything to happen to you while you’re out on your noble quest to drop off your lady,” you add, your voice laced with affection.
you take a small step closer again, the distance between you two shrinking just a bit more, you standing on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek softly. there’s a softness in your gaze, a genuine care that shines through as you maintain eye contact, wanting him to know you truly mean it.
“take care of yourself, okay?” you say, your smile lingering as you finally release the doorknob, stepping fully inside. the moment feels sweet, and you know that this is just the beginning of something special.
nanami's heart flutters at your affectionate gesture—the way your lips brush against his cheek, the warmth of your gaze, the softness in your words. he feels a rush of emotions welling up within him, a mixture of happiness, a hint of embarrassment, and a deep sense of contentment.
he stands there for a moment, his fingers reaching to touch the spot where you just kissed him, his fingertips gently tracing over the lingering warmth. his lips curve into a soft, bashful smile, his heart feeling lighter than ever before.
“goodnight” he replies, his voice soft and warm.
as the door closes behind you, he takes a small step back, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and lingering happiness filling his heart. the evening had been everything he hoped it would be—the laughter, the banter, the small gestures of affection—and he feels a sense of satisfaction knowing that he made you feel special and happy.
he lets out a gentle sigh, his mind replaying the moment of your lips brushing against his cheek. the memory warms his heart, and a small smile appears on his lips.
nanami stands outside the door for a moment, letting the warmth of the evening linger in his heart. the soft sounds of your presence on the other side bring a sense of comfort and joy that he hasn’t felt in a long time. he takes a deep breath, soaking in the calm atmosphere of the shared apartment, the memories of laughter and connection still fresh in his mind.
as he hears you settle into your room, he finally opens the door, stepping inside with a gentle smile still gracing his features. the familiar surroundings feel even cozier tonight, as if they’re wrapping him in a warm embrace, reflecting the happiness of your date.
he glances over at your closed door for a moment, a sense of protectiveness washing over him. he thinks about how lucky he feels to have shared such a lovely evening with you, his heart fluttering at the thought of what the future holds.
after a brief pause, he walks into his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind him. he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, still wearing that contented smile, feeling a newfound sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. as he prepares for bed, the echoes of your laughter and the warmth of your presence linger in the air, making him feel grateful for the bond you both share.
nanami settles into his bed, the cool sheets feeling inviting against his skin. his mind replays the events of the night, the images of your smile and the sound of your laughter replaying over and over again in his mind. he can still feel the warmth of your hand in his, the press of your body against his, and the soft touch of your lips on his cheek.
despite the late hour, he feels wide awake, his heart still beating fast with the residual excitement of the evening. the memories of dinner, the playfulness of your banter, the gentle intimacy between you, all seem to swirl through his mind.
#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen imagine
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King of the ashes.
summary | Moons had passed since your last quarrel with your estranged husband, the events of Rook’s Rest bringing you together one more time.
pairing | Aemond Targaryen x oc!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!reader (platonic).
tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex, PinV, arguing, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, Targ!cest, ANGST/little comfort, ooc Aemond (probably). SPOILERS
wordcount | 8.5K - i am so sorry
note | All the valyrian i use comes from a very shady translator so there probably are a lot of mistakes, if you have any input or helpful information pls tell me. I got really excited writing this but I feel the last part is a bit rushed, sorry about that! Any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3
Find part 1 here
[ gif by @gameofthronesdaily ]
124 AC
The afternoon sun spilled its light upon the tearful eyes of prince Aemond Targaryen, almost if mocking his heartache through its refulgent heat. The young boy sheltered himself in a seemingly abandoned corridor of the Red Keep, seeking solace from the cruel hoax imposed on him during his lessons. He could still hear them, their words — “The Pink Dread”. Such title roared in his ears, humiliation engulfing the silver prince as he forced his cries back into his throat. His mother had failed in her feeble attempts to comfort him, her attention focused solely on punishing his nephews for their so called savagery — even if it was clear this had Aegon’s name written all over it.
The worst part was that she had witnessed it. She hadn’t laughed or joined them in their persecution, but he could not bear the thought of his weakness being exposed before her. Hers was the judgment he feared most after all, she was the only one he could truly call friend.
Aemond hadn’t taken notice of a blue covered figure that watched him until she sat at his side, her weight shifting the cushions of the settee beneath them. His eyes refused to meet hers, hoping to conceal his shame as he hugged his knees against his chest. The girl stared at him in silence, her back resting on the wall whilst her feet dangled over the edge of her seat.
“Aem…” Aelora finally spoke, the softness in her tone melodic as a ballad.
“What do you want?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.
She had been made aware of Aemond’s displeasure concerning the dearth of a dragon to call his own through countless protests, his state being one of constant anger towards what he deemed his fault. It was also known by her that he would grow to be the most estimable dragonrider of them all, for none were devoted to learning and practicing as he was — it was only a matter of patience. Thus, when Aelora’s eyes caught sight of the swine inside the dragonpit, her brothers knew their mother’s chastening would be nothing compared to hers.
“My brothers are fools, I wish to apologize on their behalf.” She brought her hand to hold his, a gesture of innocent assurance.
“You did not deserve it.”
The boy slowly drifted his eyes from the window to lay his gaze upon her, his heartbeat quavering at her touch. Nevertheless, her kind words couldn’t erase his shortcomings — he couldn’t accept charity for his ridicule, he wouldn’t.
“I… I have no need for your pity.” As much as he tried, he failed to stop woe from consuming his voice, as well as his demeanor.
“I don’t pity you.” Grasping his hand tighter, she looked at him through furrowed brows.
“You shall have a dragon. One even bigger than Sunfyre, I know it! In the meantime you can help me with Lyrrax, even fly with me once she’s big enough!”
It was evident her enthusiasm was a childish one, an effort to install hope over the sorrow that buried his thoughts — but she had no care for it. She noticed as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, even as he tried to suppress it. She wasn’t the one who owed him an apology, and yet there she was, offering her own dragon for an olive branch. His gaze flickered down at their hands, her smaller one over his, and he intertwined their fingers. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, for Aelora’s presence was reassuring and tender.
“You truly believe I'll claim one?” He asked, unable to hide the fleeting shadow of optimism that burned in his eyes.
“I am certain of it. We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon. You just haven’t found the right one for you.” A smile crept its way onto her face, her cheeks rosy and plump with eagerness.
Aemond scanned the girl before him, his expression almost vulnerable. The feeling of indignity was one familiar to the young boy and he had enough of it. He contemplated her words for a moment, and for once allowed himself to consider she might be right.
“Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I lack patience.” He let out a deep breath, as if letting go of the bitterness that had taken hold of him.
“You would do well to remember I’m always right.” The smug grin on her face earned herself only a rolling of eyes in response.
“Come on. I know something that will lift your spirits.”
Her words had barely escaped her lips before she burst through the corridor, tugging the prince’s hand as they ran. Hurried footsteps clashed against cold stone as Aelora strided through the maze of indistinguishable aisles, her gaze occasionally flickering towards the boy behind her. The smile that stubbornly weld itself onto Aemond’s face had transformed into a beaming grin, the sound of her angelic giggles clipping away the sullenness from his features.
A deafening thump alerted the prince of their whereabouts, the wide entry of her bedchamber welcoming him inside. He stepped in and curiously observed as she struggled to close the wooden doors, trapping the pair of them in concealment. The calling gesture of the princess hand woke him from his trance as he marched towards the illustrated wall beside her bed.
“Wait, what are you doing?” His head tilted in confusion whilst he fixated his lilac eyes on her hands. Her palm grazed the intricate designs on the stone, finally encountering the familiar crease on the surface — she pushed it, a dimly lit passageway staring back at him.
“Its Maegor’s secret tunnels!”
Aemond's bewilderment had quickly given way to wonder and awe. The maesters had taught him legends of Maegor's construction schemes, rumored to be an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the Red Keep, but he never dreamed he would get to see them for himself.
“What?! How in the Seven Hells did you find them?”He asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“A fortunate accident.” She shrugged.
“I was hoping to find the way to your apartments and surprise you but I reckon it cannot be done anymore.”
“You’re mad!” His gaze quickly flickered back to Aelora.
His eyes, violet in the soft daylight that cascaded through the nearby window, studied her almost warily, as if to gauge a reaction from her. He received no such thing. The princess brought her hand to his once again, carefully establishing themselves inside the narrow corridor as the heavy stone shut behind the two. Aemond allowed himself to be pulled along, not even protesting in favour of the tunnel. He observed the strange architecture through their route, the dim light that filtered through small gaps, and the strange cobwebs that had taken form. The limb that remained in hers seemed to squeeze it almost possessively — out of fear, or out of eagerness, Aelora could likely tell.
The hairs atop the young royals’ heads twirled at the light breeze that embraced them, the scent of saltwater filling their nostrils. A moss covered archway revealed a small, damp cavern. As they entered, rugged walls formed by weathered rock surrounded them and an opening that lead directly onto the beach offered a panoramic view of the shoreline and the rolling waves beyond. Beams of sunlight streamed in through gaps, illuminating the cave's interior with a soft, ambient glow. Their feet grazed the sandy floor underneath them, scattered with small shells and pebbles, remnants of the sea's presence. Inside the serene and veiled space, a true connection between land and ocean can be felt — a fitting discovery for a princess of House Velaryon.
Aelora’s brown orbs searched for the boy’s lilac ones, a wide grin spread on her face as she squeezed his hand tenderly.
“So… What do you make of it?”
Aemond was quietly impressed, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of the cave, eyes roaming across the stalactites that hanged over them, a small gasp escaping his pink lips. He slowly peeled his hand from the princess, walking over to the opening to look out at the sea.
“How — how did you find this place?” The young prince questioned softly, his head turning back to look at her with an almost admiring gaze.
“It is unimportant. We can confine ourselves here whenever we like! The others do not know about it — I’m halfway certain no one does.”
A small, pleased smile tugged on his features just at the thought of using the cave as a hideaway; a private place, just for himself and Aelora. He hums quietly under his breath, in slight agreement.
“Our secret?” He extend his pinky towards her, indicating for her to do the same.
“Ours.” She smiled as she locked their fingers together in a silent promise.
A silent minute exchanged itself between the pair, the linger of a childish oath tickling their skin. The future memory would cling to their hearts for years to come, a longing fondness drowning them each and every time — except they had no knowledge of it as of the moment, being too focused on the possible amusement that would certainly come from the cavern’s discovery.
“I can best you to the shore!” Aemond wasted no time as he sprinted to approach the broken waves at the end of the beach.
“Wait!” She shouted, avidly picking up her pace to match the boy’s, his long limbs giving him a considerable advantage over the girl behind him.
It had been an entire afternoon of nothing but running, chasing, and exploring together. The young prince had forgotten his troubles and worries completely, instead focusing on the thrill of catching a slippery, wiggling sand crab. The cold feeling of the seawater against his skin didn’t bother him either, nor did the wind whipping at his silver hair as they sat building sandcastles. By the time dusk began to settle, the two children had become completely filthy with sand, mud, and water. Their garments were most likely ruined from the seaweed’s smell, fact that would assuredly earn them serious reprimands from their mothers. Yet, he could not remember a time when he felt so alive.
As they returned to the cave, the sunset’s glow reflected in the wet stones inside, a sense of comfort enveloping the rock-strewn cavity. Aelora’s gaze fell upon the young prince before her, his valyrian grace never yielding to his disheveled appearance. She observed as he bent down, a sharp ore emerging in his hand.
“What are you doing?” She questioned through a mess of rumpled braids.
Aemond glanced up to look at her, smiling softly. With careful movements, the boy carved into the rock, his free hand resting against the stone wall for balance. After a moment, the four letters of their initials were carved into the stone. The scribbles “A.T.” and “A.V.” were jagged and a bit uneven, but still clearly visible.
”Leaving a marking… to remember.”
---
129 AC
Bleeding. Bruised. Brokenhearted. Those were the exact words to describe the state in which princess Aelora Velaryon arrived at Dragonstone. The crimson liquid that gushed out of her right side was courtesy of a Kingsguard during his desperate attempts to put a stop to her fleeing — the remnants of his white cloak hanging from Lyrrax’s teeth were evidence of the retribution he earned. The loyal she-dragon landed crudely, sharp claws sinking in the placid sand as her screeches blended with her rider’s whimpers. The princess could sense the pain inside the beast’s mind, their unbreakable connection making their emotions into one.
Pellets of rain grazed her face as she crawled up the endless stairs towards the peak of the islet, the translucent droplets mixing with tears of her own. The young woman’s sobs were filled with tales of disloyalty. She had betrayed her family, her duty, and worst of all, she had been betrayed by him. The one who stood before the gods of Old Vayria and pledged his unyielding love for her. The one who she had deemed worthy of the deserting of her kin. The one who promised her a future beyond the carnage of war. And yet he was the first to commence bloodshed. Her devotion had not been enough to subdue Aemond’s thirst for revenge — but how she wished that it had.
The mud on the soles of her shoes stuck to the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of shame as she entered the intimidating fortress. Her name and titles thundered inside her ears as the voice of a guard announced her arrival, though she hadn’t actually heard him. Her tormented psyche fevered with dread, fearful of the reactions she would receive due the forsaking of her own blood. All the eyes of her mother’s Small Counsel widened at the sight of the princess, distress and grief scattered across their faces. Her gaze flickered to the silvery locks on Raenyra’s head, the woman’s back turned to the room.
Aelora’s steps were slow and somber, as if her soul had faded and the lifeless carcass of who she was moved against her wishes. She skipped past Daemon at her mother’s side, lacking the nerve to meet his stare. Finally, she reached the bereaved woman before her, brown meeting lilac in a lachrymose gaze. Their pale hands intertwined in haste, and the once composed tears transformed into loud sobs as the young princess collapsed to her knees, begging for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness. Blood and teardrops met in the Black Queen’s dress, staining it as she knelt in front of her daughter. She brought up her palm to caress the side of the young woman’s face, the maternal touch conveying a juvenile yearning in Aelora’s heart.
“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered as anguish imbued her words.
---
The moons that followed Luke’s death were arduous for the princess, constantly having to prove herself before the family that once accepted her. Rhaena and Rhaenyra had silently recognized Aelora’s circumstances, acknowledging she grieved for a husband as well as a brother. Baela had hesitated in the endorsing of her cousin but surrendered to her pleads nonetheless. Daemon barely addressed his wife’s daughter, his hatred for his nephew fused inside the resentful stares he gave her. Despite her best efforts to cope with her standing, it was Jacaerys’ unyielding disregard for his sister that slayed the woman’s hope of mending their bond. The storm behind the prince’s eyes was well hidden inside his stoic expressions, seemingly unaffected by Aelora’s prayers for his recognition. It was only in the afternoon before their grandmother’s departure for Rook’s Rest that the siblings found each other.
The soft rustle of parchment echoed through the otherwise silent library, a salty breeze infiltrating itself through the window. The princess sat by the unlit fireplace as her gaze swept across the leather-bound books scattered inside the numerous shelves, each and all replete with the history of House Targaryen. The smell of dusty, old tomes was a bitter comfort in the midst of her morose silence. She had accustomed herself to this moments of solitude, seeking solace inside her soul. At heart, her deepest fantasies scampered free, picturing a simpler life as a commoner — untethered by the Targaryen name and relieved from the torment of the constant shadow of war.
Aelora was chased back into reality as Jacaerys’ presence made itself known. The young man invaded the room like a blizzard, his cold glare locking upon her figure as she rested over the armrest of the settee. Her eyes glistened with heartache once she felt how profoundly hostile her brother had become, turning on his heel to abandon her presence. The woman’s voice trembled as she spoke, her words pleading and vulnerable.
"Jacaerys, wait...please."
He halted, his shoulders tense as he looked back at her. The expression on his face was hard to read, a mixture of ire and pain etched into his features.
"What do you want, Aelora?" His voice was cold, the distance between them palpable.
"Have I stooped so low in your graces that my presence offends you? We are family, Jacaerys. Can we not even speak?" Her voice was laced with a hint of desperation as she asked.
"You ask for words as if they could undo what has already been done." His expression hardened, his jaw tightening at her words.
Aelora got to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. He spoke as if it had been her to murder Luke, not Aemond. Her eyes met his as she stood, her voice wavering with a mix of sorrow and anger.
“Do you truly believe I have not been made aware of that?!”
“Every day of my miserable existence is plagued by guilt. I close my eyes at night yet sleep eludes me, for the ghost of Luke haunts my every thought!” She grew restless at every word, tears forming in her brown orbs as she gestured frantically through phrases.
“I know I failed him, as I failed you and our family… But don't forget I too lost a brother that day.”
Jacaerys stood frozen in place, his grief still bubbling within him and yet his heart ached at the sight of his sister's tears. Her words cut through him like a dagger, his own teardrops threatening to fall.
"Luke is gone, Aelora, and your presence here only serves as a reminder of that fact." He took a step backwards, his jaw clenching as he struggled to control his emotions.
“You cannot blame me for what was not my doing. I was Aemond’s wife, not his conscience — albeit my best efforts.”
"But you married our enemies, sister! Do you truly believe your actions have no consequences?"
"You stood by while they plotted against us and our family. How can I not blame you, when you chose to bind your fate to theirs?" A hint of anger flashed in Jacaerys' mournful eyes as he continued.
“i admit i have made my bed and I must lie in it, but you speak of matters you do not understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she could shield herself from his hatred.
“He swore to me…“ Her voice cracked, heartbreak swallowing her words.
“He swore to avoid this — to stop this insane feud. He is an oathbreaker as well as a kinslayer and he made me a fool!”
The room was still tense but as Aelora's sobbing grew heavier, something shifted within Jacaerys. He stepped closer to his sister, and without a word, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His body was warm against her chilly frame as he held her close, almost protectively. Their grievances seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced only by a shared sorrow as her tears dampened his shoulder.
“Do you hold love for him, still?” He whispered.
“Only for the memory of who he used to be.”
The prince held Aelora a little tighter at her admission, his chin resting on the top of her head as they remained locked in their embrace. He could feel the weight of her broken heart and the ache it left her with. His wrath had dimmed, replaced by a sense of care and familial loyalty.
"Memories are not enough… Promise to break him should you get the chance"
“I will.”
Neither of them knew, but she lied.
Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, met her fate by the hands of the newly appointed Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.
Meleys, The Red Queen, had her head paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.
And Aelora, Aemond’s beloved nightmare, sent him a raven.
“We must speak. Find me at ghost’s hour where salt meets memory.
A.V.”
---
The stars twinkled outside the formidable walls of Dragonstone, nightfall enveloping the island in its deep shadows. The approach of ghost’s hour disrupted the princess’ heartbeat inside her chest, her previous conviction giving way to fright as she slithered into the network of caves where the dragons nested. Aelora called out to Lyrrax, her voice wavering with a mixture of stress and uncertainty. As the great beast appeared before her, its wings unfurling, she couldn't help but wonder why she had sent the meeting request at all.
The dragon’s own tension could be felt through her scales as the princess climbed onto its back, the weight of her decision settling on them like a heavy cloak. As they soared through the night sky, Aelora's thoughts were consumed by memories of Aemond and his treachery. The image of him flying over her grandmother’s corpse haunted her mind — the cold, merciless expression he conveyed twisting her guts. She questioned her own judgement in seeking him out, even as her heart yearned for the man who once pledged his undying love and protection. She looked back at Dragonstone, its familiar walls and towers illuminated by the silvery moonlight; she was abandoning her blood for him once again. The princess could only surmise she was either possessed by madness or a true lovelorn fool.
The frigid roar of wind traveled across her face as Lyrrax’s wings scraped over the tide’s surface, saltwater droplets cutting into her skin as well as her pride. She knew her grandmother would never forgive her for this, it was likely none would; she was an idiotic excuse for a Targaryen if she thought seeking the slayer of so many of her kin was justifiable. The burden of loss hung heavily on Aelora's soul as she took in the landscape before her. The faces of Rhaenys and Luke, forever etched in her mind, fueled a mix of anger and trepidation inside the young woman. Her thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of emotions as she soared towards him, recollections of the past playing out like a tragic play as her brown orbs focused upon the once affectionate site of King’s landing.
With practiced grace, Aelora guided the dragon into a smooth descent, its blue wings beating against the air as its claws set down on the shore of Blackwater Bay. The sound of their landing was muffled by the night, its velvety darkness swallowing the pair by the quiet that enveloped the world like a thick, black blanket. The crash of the waves greeted the princess’ ears as she dismounted, struggling to catch her breath and steady her emotions. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the young woman caught sight of the familiar cave that laid ahead, its entrance like a dark maw in the cliffside. The jagged edges were illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, sending shadows dancing across the rocky surface.
Bittersweetness engulfed Aelora’s frame as the memories memories of her secret rendezvouses with Aemond brimmed in her mind. Every step she took towards the cave was like a blow to her legs, feeling shaky and unsteady. Doubt gnawed at her spirit as if a persistent rat, her stomach flipping with every crunch of the sand beneath her feet. Yet, she pushed forward, determination fueling the princess even as her disheveled heartbeat hammered against her ribcage.
The sight of Aemond standing amongst the shadows caught Aelora off guard, the dim light emanating through the cave's entrance barely illuminating his form — she had thought to be the first to arrive. Before she could stop it, a slight gasp escaped her lips and her eyes widened in disbelief. He looked different, somehow. He seemed further villainous and wearied, the once familiar spark in his eye now replaced by a bold robustness. His sharp and handsome features were now harder, almost rugged, as if her absence had left its mark on him. Swallowing hard, she acknowledged the stark contrast between the nostalgic sentiment that nearly overcame her a moment ago and the tense silence that now enveloped them. They stood opposite each other mutely, both frozen and locked in each other’s gaze.
“Wife.” He greeted, his voice grazing her earlobes like the finest of silks.
“That title does not fit me any longer.” She replied coldly.
His lilac eye examined Aelora’s frame from head to toe, her cloak hiding black leather garments — most likely dragonriding attire. She looked skinnier than he recalled, the shadows only enhancing the redness of her eyes. Aemond could not help but wonder whether she had been weeping during her journey there, grief tackling her psyche as well as her build. The princess demeanor turned stiff, arms crossing as she stood clearly on edge.
“You remain mine, before gods and men.” His gaze flickered with something akin to resentment.
“Kinslaying is a rather suitable ground for an annulment, i should think.” She said, removing the cloak from her head, allowing her braid to cascade over her shoulder.
He froze, the muscles on his neck and jaw tensed. His first reaction is one of anger, clenching his fist as he prepared hateful words inside his throat. But as he looked her in the eye, his wrath melted away into something much more dangerous and devastating — something fragile. All he could see was the girl he grew up with, the girl who stood by him at his boyhood. The woman who whispered sweet nothings amongst the vows of their wedding. The woman who played silly songs on the harp and sang with the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. The wife who's hands he dreamed of at night.
“So eager to rid yourself of the shame affixed to my reputation… And yet, you request my presence with equal vigor.” He stood with his hands behind his back, swallowing any desires that threatened to get the better of him.
“It is my understanding you have become Prince Regent.” She tried to ignore his jabs, the truthfulness they held hitting a sore point inside Aelora.
“The betrayal of your brother becomes you. Yet another broken oath in your conquest for the throne.” She returned his insults, the knowledge of his ambition stirring something within the prince.
“You speak of broken oaths. And what ought I call the oaths you have broken? The promises we made when we married in front of Heleana and the Gods?” His one eye darkened, taking a step forward as he kept his tone controlled.
“Your hypocrisy is staggering.” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he spoke.
“My hypocrisy?!” She could feel the anger boiling her blood, as if fire consuming wood.
“Your sanctimonious preaches fail to erase your true nature, Aemond. Naming yourself Targaryen whilst the sigil of our house is paraded through the streets as if some vainglorious prize of war!” Her voice turned to screeches as it echoed through the stone walls of the cave.
“You may call me a bastard if you wish to, but my blood honors Old Valyria far more than yours.”
Aemond’s hand shot to her wrist, gripping it tight enough to leave marks on the skin underneath. His single eye was wild and livid, the scar around it turning his gaze even more menacing. He moved a step closer, the scent of him overwhelming her — mint and leather mixed with a hint of smoke, the familiar essence blurred her senses in a wave of longing. The princess hid her weakening behind a wrath curtain, the disdain she held for the twisted version of him that now stood before her casting their love aside.
“Watch your tongue, Aelora.”
“Or else? Will your murder me as you did my brother? My grandmother? I can see the conqueror’s dagger in it’s seath, evidence of yet another attempt at fratricide!” She accused him further.
“Have you not done enough? Must you ravage our family and yourself in your thirst for power?”
The hand that gripped her wrist traveled up to the back of her head, grabbing the braided hair. Yanking it softly, he pulled Aelora even closer, his lilac orb flickering over her expression.
“I am Prince Regent as the Gods intended.” He hissed into her ear, a dangerous edge to his voice.
“My reign, unlike that of Aegon, will be glorious — my rule absolute. And you, wife, will be by my side when I sit on the Iron Throne.”
Aelora’s eyes betrayed her as water began to brim in their edges, a horrified gleam passing through her forming tears. A hand cupped his left cheek as she scanned him, a desperate search for the man he once was. The man she longed for each night. The man who was the source of greater heartache than she had ever felt in her life. The man who was also the root of her most joyous moments.
“Your ambition shall be your demise, husband. I was yours before all of this, before your perverseness overcame your affection for me.”
“The crown may sit upon your brow, but i have sufficiently torn my heart to shreads in my attempts to remove you — even if you are my weakness, I will never belong by your side once more.”
”No wrath or cruelty is capable of subduing my craving of you, issa vēzos (my sun).” He leaned into her touch, letting his eye flutter at the feeling of the soft skin of her palm against his cold cheek.
In that moment of contact, he seemed so vulnerable, and much younger than his years. He was weak. A pathetic, love-sick man, and he could not bring himself to care. Aemond leaned his head against hers, their foreheads connecting as his gaze softened.
“I am plagued by thoughts of you and I, each reminiscence a torment to my soul.”
“Come back to me, be my Queen and rule by my side. Our love will be known forever through the Seven Kingdoms, your belly swollen with our child ensuring our line shall never be forgotten.”
There was a moment of silence as Aelora absorbed his words. He was offering her a chance at a life she had dreamed of, one full of passion and legacy as their offspring lived on after them. But it would be an existence consumed by greed, she knew it. There could be no going back after what he had done; Lucerys would never be uncle to her progeny and Rhaenys wouldn’t be there to counsel her through hardships. Their family was torn from the beginning, the tapestry of their lives further lacerated by his actions. And she couldn’t betray her blood again.
“I would do anything for you.” He begged.
“Would your bend the knee to my mother?” Her voice was shaky as the lachrymose gaze she held shattered, its translucent shards falling through her cheeks.
"I will give you anything. Anything within my power to give." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
"But not my crown."
“Then there shall be naught left to ask, issa hūra (my moon).” She sent him a smile, albeit a woeful one.
Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be in vain. He was so close to her that he could feel her breath on his lips, the feeling slowly driving him mad. He had imagined Aelora’s face, her curves and her voice each night he had been forced to spend alone — and here she was, right before him, but he couldn’t have her. The thought of how this could be the last time he held her without being shoved away made him pull her to him, his arms wrapping around her like vines.
The princess found herself unable to resist as she pressed her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the silent cavern. She clung to him tightly, her fingers gripping his clothing like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. For a moment, they stood there, holding each other without a word. The moons of distance melted away, replaced by a shared sense of desperate longing to be close again. Despite the comfort and familiarity of his embrace, she knew deep down that he would never surrender — his path set on the course of war and the bloodshed it entailed. The pain and loss they had faced would forever stand between them, but it did not matter tonight. Concealed by shadows inside the stone walls surrounding them, their grievances and broken oaths would dim at the radiance of their burning passion. For a brief moment, the pair would be one once more.
Aelora’s head parted from the warmth of his frame as her gaze followed the line of Aemond's jaw, her brown orbs traveling upward until they reached his mouth. A sharp breath hitched within her throat as she remembered the soft touch of his lips against hers, butterflies rattling in her stomach. In that moment, she was transported back to the blissful months of their marriage, when their intimacies were full of love and promise. The need to feel the familiar touch of his skin against hers consuming every inch of her being.
The prince’s mind and body were on fire. He could feel her gaze raking over him, like a caress to his spirit. The mere sight of his estranged wife in his arms making his heart pound wildly in his chest. His good eye watched her mouth as she swallowed, his one trackmindedness fixated on everything about her. He could see the memories, the same ones he saw every night, flashing through her gaze. His fingers reached up to brush a strand of her brown hair aside, her once perfect braid now half done as the long locks threaten to escape. His hand trembled with how badly he wanted to feel her body, to trace his hands over her curves and kiss her neck, as he had done countless times before.
Aelora's restraint snapped with a sharp tug as she pulled him down towards her, their lips finally meeting in a desperate, ardent kiss. A muffled gasp left her lips at the familiar touch, her body responding instinctively as she pressed herself against him, hungrily devouring his taste. The prince’s sense of control collapsed like a house of cards, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he held her close. He was a man starved, his palms roaming over her frame, as if trying to commit every curve to memory.
Aemond's hands began to roam under her cloak, his fingers tracing over the round hips hidden underneath. He could feel the heat of her desire through the thick fabric, his own body aching to devour her whole. The fingers on his left hand fiddled over the clasp of her mantle, yearning overcoming his senses as he tossed the fabric onto the delicate sand.
Before he was able to protest, Aelora broke their kiss. Her eyes glistened with arousal as she watched his lips, reddened and bruised from the hastiness of their embrace. Her nimble hands found the buckle of her leather doublet, shivering as the absence of the rougher material revealed her chemise underneath. The sheer linen did little to protect the princess’ frame from the cold breeze that made its way through the cave’s entrance, her nipples stiffening at the feeling. The young woman felt no grief for her modesty as Aemond’s eye watched her carefully, a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She continued to undress, slender fingers slowly untying the laces on her breeches. Her boots met the rest of her dragonriding garments on the jagged rocks by the cavern’s wall, leaving the princess in only her smallclothes.
The silver prince was left breathless by her actions, completely entranced by the sight of her exposed chest, every contour of her body on display through the translucent fabric. His eye drank in the sight and he could feel his blood rushing to a southernmost point. He wanted to worship her, to kiss and nibble her skin — to make her cry out his name until the only thing she could remember was the feel of him against herself. At this moment, he was no longer Aemond Targaryen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm; he was a dog at her heel, eager for her calling. His gaze never left hers, staring at her vulnerable state as he mirrored her actions. First he removed his baldric, steel clinking as his dagger and sword fell to the ground. Then, he slowly undid the various buckles on his black jerkin, his breeches following suit. He did not waver as her brown eyes found his stiffened manhood; for he hadn’t cared to remain in concealment as she did.
Aelora’s gaze followed her husband as he approached her again, his hands reaching out and his fingers gently sliding up her bare thigh. She felt him press further into her, his cock pushing itself snugly against her core. He leaned in until his mouth was just beside her ear, his breath warm against her neck as he bit the skin softly. There was no denying she was his, her soul forever branded by his sinful devotion; the princess would never trust a kinslayer twice over, but she couldn’t help but love him.
“Vestragon ao’re ñuhon. (Say you’re mine.)” His voice was barely a whisper but it was as much a command as a plead.
“Vestragon ao’re nykeēdrosa ñuhon, gīda sepār syt kiza bantis. (Say you’re still mine, even just for tonight)”.
“Nyke aōhon. Ēva tubis ōños. (I am yours. Until daylight)”. She answered, lips trembling as the words escaped her.
A primal possessiveness engulfed the one eyed prince, the part that had always longed for her roaring in victory. At that very moment, he felt that there was nothing in this world that he would not do for her. He took her mouth in another kiss, their tongues clashing in a more feral and desperate manner. Aemond lifted her, his calloused hands digging into her plump arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her fingers gripped at his silver locks, his sudden responde sending waves of languor across her limbs. He moved her onto the cloak that was on the ground, the velvety sand welcoming her weight over the fabric as he covered her body with his.
Aemond continued his path of kisses down her body, his hands wandering over her breasts and waist and his mouth leaving more marks in its path. He could feel Aelora shudder in anticipation, her hips arching against his as he moved closer to her core, the air heavy with the scent of her nectar. He halted, taking in the sight of her before him. It had been so long — too long — since he had laid eyes upon her like this, and he relished in the way she already looked completely wrecked by his touch alone. The prince finally reached his ultimate goal, his lips finding her mound as he licked a stripe across the sensitive flesh. He let out a low moan at the taste of her sweet ambrosia on his tongue, a loud whimper emanating from her lungs in response.
The young woman’s hair laid carelessly on the ground, grains of sand intertwining into the brown mess as she arched her back in pleasure. She cried out as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her further apart and burying his face between her legs, his tongue exploring her in ways she had missed for many moons. He could not get enough of her, his lips and tongue trailing silent prayers over her most sensitive spot as his name left her lips. She felt her walls clench as he barged inside her cunt with a long finger, adjusting to the once familiar feeling. Shivers ran down her spine in satisfaction as Aemond synchronized his movements, the overwhelming pleasure bringing stars to her eyes.
A lilac eye never left her face, watching every expression that played across her features. Her mouth parted in pleasure, each gasp and moan fueling the fire of the prince’s own arousal. He had longed to see her like this, writhing underneath him, his name on her lips and his touch on her skin. The memories of her had haunted him in his nights alone, but now, in this moment, he was finally able to worship her like the god given treasure that she was.
Aelora's cries grew more intense, her hips bucking against Aemond's skilled mouth as pleasure mounted within her. Her thighs trembled slightly, its muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was quickly approaching. Each touch and movement only served to bring her closer to the precipice of pleasure.
A loud cry echoed through the cavern as she climaxed, her body shuddering and her fingers digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor herself. As the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she felt as though she had been transported to another realm. The connection between them was somehow stronger than it had ever been before, their souls dancing to a passionate melody.
When Aelora finally gasped for air, the prince slowly moved up from her core, his body hovering over hers. He watched as she recovered from the rapture he had given her with a dark and vainglorious smirk. With his elbow holding himself over her, he pulled her leg to rest on his hip as his eye scanned her features. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, the tip of her finger caressing his reddened scar as she furrowed her brows.
“Nyke gaomagon regret ziry. Skoros nyke vestretan se mōrī jēda. (I do regret it. What I said the last time.)” She apologized, regret brimming in her brown orbs.
Aemond leaned into her touch, his good eye closing at the gentle touch of her hand against his skin, it felt nearly as soothing as a balm to his weary heart. The mention of the title she had bestowed upon him sent a chill through his spine, his monstrous behavior had earned the words even if they had maimed him. His face turned to press a soft kiss into her palm, before opening his eye to look at her again.
“It is of no importance.” His voice was rough and low as he spoke.
Aelora softly tugged at the straps of his eyepatch, earning a trembling exhale from him in response. The touch of her delicate fingers on his malady sent a wave of fear through his spirit. She removed piece of leather, revealing the puckered, scarred skin where his eye had once been. He found himself unable to look at her for a moment, the feeling of vulnerability consuming him in the dim light of the cave. The princess looked deeply into the sapphire gem in his socket, tenderness engulfing the kiss she placed upon it.
Aemond's touch was gentle as he took her lips in his, not waiting for her response as he gripped her hip and turned her on her stomach. His eye roamed over the expanse of her back, tracing his fingers over the smooth surface of her skin, leaving a trail of gentle caresses in its path. It was a stark contrast to the frenzied way he had touched her previously, this touch was far more tender, almost reverent in nature. His body pressed against hers as the length of his manhood rested on the small of her back, buring into her skin. He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear as he moved closer.
“Azantys ñuha sindigho, issa vēzos. (I have missed you desperately, my sun)”. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered.
Aelora arched her back as she felt the tip of his cock breeching her dampened slit, her knees propping her hip upwards in search of contact. His arm reached under her, squeezing one of her peaks as he fully entered her. The pair let out breathless moans as Aemond moved against her, leaving no time for her adjustment. The sting of pain she felt had been nothing compared to the ecstasy of his length inside her, finding herself unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being around him.
The prince’s thrusts grew harder, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both frenzied and yet somehow controlled. Her moans and sighs filled the air, his own breaths coming quick and sharply as he took her with a wild abandon. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the soft flesh as his hands buried into her hips.
“Avy jorrāelan. (I love you)” Aelora murmured between ragged moans, her hand reaching to grasp his hair.
His eye widened slightly at her words, a thrill rushing through him at having heard them coming from her lips once again. His lips found the base of her jawline, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. His cock kept reaching further into her cunt as their flesh moved together with a rhythmic thrust, like the rise and fall of waves on the shore.
“Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond mumbled repeatedly in between thrusts, his words a fierce declaration of their love. He continued moving inside her, his heart racing in his ribcage as his pleasure overcame physical bounds.
Every thing about this moment was singled out from any other they had shared. The grief, pain and betrayal that coursed through their marriage dissipated amongst the dragon fire that burned within the pair. It all faded away, and all that was left was this, the feel of her skin against his, the sound of his muffled whimpers in her ear, the desperate way he repeated her name over and over. This moment felt like the calm in the middle of a storm, a rustle of the ashes of their love.
Aemond could feel his peak building, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased the pleasure he sought. His breaths came out in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds of her gasps in the air as his length clashed inside her. Aelora sensed the twitching of his manhood, threatening to spill his release inside her walls. The mere thought tightened the knot that had formed in her belly, reaching the edge of her desire.
Aemond sent a few more thrusts into the brown haired woman underneath him before both found their release simultaneously, their movements slowing as they both rode out of the ecstatic trance that washed over them. The prince’s face was buried in Aelora’s neck, a guttural moan escaping him at the force of his own pleasure. Her body shivered at the feeling of his seed drowning her cunt, pearly tears streaming down her leg as she whimpered.
The lovers stayed silent in an adoring embrace after he disconnected their bodies, a wave of comfort washing over them. For a while they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, their frames entwined in a tangle of limbs. It was a strange sort of peace, one that they both knew wouldn't last once the sun rose — but for the moment, they were content. The night stretched on, each hour passing in a blur of whispered words and slow hands. Aemond and Aelora clang to one another, as if they could melt into one if they only held tightly enough. The threat of daylight and the inevitable parting loomed over them like a dark cloud on the horizon, anguish settling inside their hearts.
As the hour of the nightingale approached over their secret sanctuary, the prince and princess began to break away from the blissful haven that enveloped them. There were no words to be spoken as they both dressed silently, the sound of rustling fabric and soft breaths filling the air between them. The weight of war and the knowledge that this moment was fleeting hung heavily in the air. Aemond felt a pang in his chest as he looked towards her, a mute wish in his heart that they could stay like this. To be locked in this moment forever, away from the world that demanded so much from them. But he knew that was not possible. Soon, they would have to return to their duties and obligations — this feeling would become nothing more than a memory.
As they stood before each other fully clothed, their eyes met in a bereaved gaze — sorrow for the love they shared engulfing them. Aelora stepped closer to him, holding his hand softly, almost in a cowardly manner. She had no words for the man who was her everything, the man who had her in every way possible, and she was ashamed of it. His free hand moved hesitantly to hold her cheek, his eye flickering over her face, taking in every feature. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind, to remember every detail about her, down to the smallest freckle on her nose. His thumb traced her soft skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, as if to say “I will be with you forever”. Tears began to form at the corners of her brown orbs as she abandoned his touch. The sound of the rustling sand underneath her feet echoed through the cave as she reached its entrance, her form never escaping his stare.
She halted at the stone archway, her silhouette framed by the soft silver light of the moon. The night air was cool on her skin as she turned to look back at Aemond, the feel of their passion still lingering in the air. For a moment, they simply stood there, eyes meeting in the darkness. She ached to say something, to find the words to convey the maelstrom of emotions that raged within her. In the end, she simply smiled, bittersweet and knowing.
“Should we meet on the battlefield, I can’t hesitate.” Her voice came out a whisper.
“I won’t hesitate to kill you.” She repeated, to herself or to him — Aemond didn’t know.
The prince’s breath had grown a little shallow at her words, a frown forming on his face. The idea of their next encounter being on the battlefield, facing off against each other like enemies was a thought that pained him, even though he knew it was a possibility. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t hesitate either, that he would fight her with everything he had if they ever met in battle, but the words stuck in his throat. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.
Once again, she left him. Aemond would be a King without a Queen, half of his soul forsaken in his search for power. It had to be worth it.
Bur they wouldn’t meet again, not in the context of war or any other.
She would meet her demise alongside her brother in the Battle of The Gullet. Fighting hard like a Strong, dying besides her dragon like a Targaryen and laying to rest at sea like a Velaryon.
He would grow mad at her perishing, ire overcoming his every sense. And he would eventually be slayed by her stepfather at The Battle Above God’s Eye.
Their love was epic, a fierce tale of forbidden passion that would never be written about inside history books. The only legacy they would leave behind had been scribbled onto a stone wall years before.
A.T. & A.V.
---
Taglist: @onlyrealjoy @siriusblackssun @adombtch
#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#hotd#hotd x reader#house of the dragon#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan nation
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WELT + CatHybrid!Reader (SMUT)
Tw : +18, fem!reader, reader is not trailblazer, explicit, power imbalance, dom!welt, sub!reader, age gap? (welt is very old but reader is of age), animal features (reader), fingering (fem! receiving), daryphilia kinda?, praise kink, creampie (wrap it before you tap it folks), breeding talk, established relationship, jealousy (male), marking, mating press, not proofread (hope i'm not missing anything)
5k words
Life as a Nameless wasn't always easy.
Who would have guessed that this planet prohibits your species? That's discriminatory! Truly!
This planet had the best, the biggest, the most impressive amusement park there is! The downside… It seems like their population appears to have descended from a very deeply rooted race of fishes… Hence why any kind of felines or predators are prohibited from visiting.
But no way you'd miss out on that opportunity, it'd be cruel to keep you away from this planet! No way!
You stubbornly stepped in.
Welt was skeptical. For starters, he was the one who had to manage your boundless energy, and the mood swings that came along. The thought of bringing you along felt wrong. He knew best, and at that moment he highly doubted you'd be suitable for the trip.
When you became part of the Nameless, he naturally assumed the role of caretaker, taking responsibility for the slip-ups and mistakes you made along the way. This role proved itself to be so challenging that no one actually fought for it…
The man was naturally poised, calm, and perhaps the only one capable of managing you and your frequent outbursts. You were almost forbidden to leave his side.
As much as everyone appreciated you, they were well aware that your curiosity brought a lot of baggage and a fair share of risks… Just stay glued to Welt and you'll be able to go on adventures! They said.
But at this moment, you are actively defending your case against a very much tired Welt and a concerned Himeko.
"I swear I'll behave!" The talk had been ongoing for hours now, putting you on edge and making your tone sound whinier than you intended.
"Wether you behave or not is not the issue. We're supposed to remain unnoticed for the entire trip, your ears and tail will alert them." The fact that Welt was so adamant about this only intensified your emotions, and a swell of sadness formed itself in your now tight throat.
"I'm telling you, I can hide them - Look!" Welt noticed that you were becoming upset and he'd be lying if he said that it didn't break his heart. His gaze softened at the sight of you, scrambling around to painfully tuck the length of your tail around your waist.
You winced at the sting but continued, to make your point, ears now bent down to blend in with the locks of your hair.
"See!" You proudly stated, puffing out your chest and searching for their gaze, hoping for any sign that might give you the green light.
A fourth voice emerged. "We could use a hat and secure her tail with a rubber band." The voice of Dan Heng made your heart leap in surprise; he had joined the conversation unbeknownst to everyone. He walked to your side and silently offered his support by standing next to you.
Welt frowned. The flicker of discontent crossing his face as he shifted, shoving his soft gaze away. "We appreciate your input, Dan Heng, but-" Dan Heng interrupted, "I wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her." It was unexpected, really. Until now, you had always felt that Dan Heng found your energy bothersome and exhausting. So you always made sure to maintain a safe distance. But now? Perhaps he liked you after all?
Your eyes prickled at the unexpected defense, finally having an ally after enduring two agonizing hours of fighting alone. Relief washed over your tense body.
But that wasn't the case for Welt, and he felt compelled to express his displeasure. His arms went up, crossing them above his chest and regarded the two youngsters like some kind of disapproving father figure. "You'd do that." He spat more harshly than he intended, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm that everyone noticed except you.
Himeko sensed that the situation was worsening.
She had graciously backed Welt up for this occasion, knowing that he often struggled to refuse your whims, especially when you were determined to pursue something. However, she never anticipated that it would lead to this, and she was already nearing her limits. Her long sigh captured everyone's attention, finally breaking the awkward standoff of glances.
"We can't really stop her from going." Her resolve had weakened as she casts a weary glance at Welt, a silent apology. "So it's settled. Thank you, Dan Heng, for stepping up. As for you, troublesome kitty, I'd love for you to stay by his side throughout the journey." Your triumphant yell of victory made everyone wince, except Welt who just looked utterly appalled by this outcome.
"And now, I'll draw myself a bath. Forget I exist unless you're in danger or something." She breathed out, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice as she promptly left the premises. The conversation had taken a toll on her, especially after witnessing your desperation and misery for so long. It was nice to see you smile again.
"Thank you! And thank you - thank you Dan Heng! I'll be good, I'll behave, and stay put the whoooole trip!" Your face beamed with a bright grin as you hugged the latters arm, squeezing it just to show how much it meant to you. He merely offered a subtle smile, allowing you to enjoy your moment of joy in silence.
"So it's settled." The sharpness of Welt's voice caught your attention as he repeated Himeko's words, and this time you noticed the acute tone. You opened your mouth to speak but he didn't allow you, walking away from the conversation.
Dan Heng noticed how your ears flattened, resembling a poor kicked puppy.
"Let's find a hat that fits you."
-
Of course, Himeko wasn't going to have her peaceful evening. What did she expect?
She had just started to dry her hair when the door emitted that dreadful sound; knocking. Only one person would be petty enough to voice their thoughts, so she simply unlocked the door and returned to her nightly routine.
"Thank you for having me," Welt said as he stepped inside, ensuring he closed the door behind him. He still maintained his usual politeness, though she couldn't help but notice the way his jaw clenched.
"I thought we both knew the issue wasn't about whether she has supervision or not." here it comes. She swallowed her sigh, fully aware that it was most definitely her fault this time. "She just looked so disappointed… and Dan Heng offered to take charge her; how was I supposed to say no? Besides, won't it be nice for once not to worry about what she might do?" It was a feeble attempt to divert attention away from the real issue. Really.
"What I worry about shouldn't be anyone's concern but mine. Plus, I don't recall ever complaining about taking on that role." His tone was unforgiving, punctuating his words with a disapproving wave of his hand. "You didn't. But-"
"No. What you said earlier was unnecessary, that's everything I intended to say. I apologize for the late inconvenience. Enjoy your rest." It was evident that he had no intention of hearing Himeko's explanation. He simply wanted to make his point, and that was the end of it. With that, he left Himeko's bedroom.
She crossed one leg over the other, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she focused her gaze on the now-closed door. "Isn't he too old for this?"
-
Welt was being petty, not even acknowledging the adorable hat you had spent so much time selecting, carefully chosen just for him.
Why did he act so distant? So… cold? Surely, it was your fault. You had gone against his better judgment, stubbornly following your own little whims. Were you truly that ungrateful after everything he had done for you?
To the nights when he fulfilled the needs of your body? When he used his hands to evoke such beautiful tears from you…?
You stepped off the train with a heavy heart, watching the source of your anguish leaving in company of the Trailblazer and March. You felt torn as the three of them investigated the planet while you went "scouting" the very important amusement park with Dan Heng.
Very important.
But each time you entered an attraction, your mind wandred, your expression fell with sorrow. You even won the claw game for the first time! But no… now you were being rude to Dan Heng! You couldn't do anything right!
Welt was right. Welt was always right.
Now you felt silly. And guilty.
Suddenly, an ice cream cone was thrust against your face, the cold treat making contact with your downturned lips. Dan Heng redirected your attention back to him, gaze searching for yours with concern. "Here. Take it," he urged, nudging it closer.
"M'thank you! Didn't you take one for yourself?" He shrugged.
"Not much of a sweet tooth." This time it was your turn to shrug, returning your attention to the icy treat.
It did help brighten your mood - a win for Dan Heng. What you didn't know was that he always rooted for you, at least in the shadows. He found your energy endearing in a way, especially when you beamed like this.
You actually hadspent a wonderful time in his company! You even managed to forget the little weep from this morning.
But the day took a toll on your body; your ears strained under the small hat you wore, and your tail? Numb. You even had to hide in the restroom a few times to allow your blood to flow- a small price to pay for amusement.
-
You'd think.
You sheepishly hoped that returning home and finally releasing them would bring relief, but that wasn't the case- far from it. Hours spent in that awkward position made it so incredibly difficult to relax them, it hurt so much to pull your tail back into place.
But your ears might've been the worst; you actually had to keep them in the same position because of how painful it was to move them. You huffed in front of the mirror, watching and definitely feeling them tremble.
So, you brought yourself where you always found your solace, the only place you could think of whenever something happened. But you stopped, doubt plaguing your thoughts like a disease. Maybe he didn't want to see you… Thus you stood right in front of his door, your eyes on your shoes as you pondered wether to knock or leave. He looked definitively bitter this morning…
Weeping in front of his door wouldn't help; you needed to apologize first and make amends. "Welt?… You… You're sleeping? Maybe?…" You whispered through the door, anxiety gnawing at your stomach as you waited for some kind of response.
"Enter." Oh.
So you did, but not before taking a long, deep breath.
His room was nearly engulfed in darkness, save for the small lamp on the nightstand, its dim light revealing his presence. Welt sat on an armchair positioned not far from the bed, a book in hand and his temple resting on his fist. The glance he cast your way was fleeting, as if it was mere politeness that compelled him to look up.
"What is it?" Oh, right. You hadn't relized hat you were simply standing in front of his door, silent for a few seconds. However, you noted the sharpness of his words and the indifference he displayed.
"I-It hurts… 'hurts a lot," you whined out. Of course, you whined; how could you not? Your ears throbbed, your tail ached, your stomach churned and your heart felt heavy. Nothing was going well! You knew that Welt could comfort you- he always did…
But maybe this time he wouldn't…
Welt snapped his book shut and set it aside on the nightstand as he pulled himself up. "Where? Tell me." Finally. Finally you detected a hint of warmth in his words, and your eyes watered from the overwhelming day you had.
"My ears…" you croaked out, eyes cast down in shame. He had noticed how your ears were strained at the top of your head, forced down in such an unnatural position. A long sigh escaped his lips at the sight of your poor condition. Why hadn't you listened to him?
He sat down on the edge of the bed, parting his thighs to show a spot you were all too familiar with. His hand brushed against yours, gently pulling closer to the bed's frame. "Sit."
And you thanked all the Aeons you knew of, hurrying yourself between his legs. Welt wasted no time cradling your oh so fragile body against his chest, guiding your limbs to his heart's content. You most certainly allowed him to do so.
He slid his right arm under your knees, lifting your body to drape your legs over his thigh and position you sideways against him. You nestled your cheeks right under his collarbone, pressing your body against his to absorb his warmth.
This angle provided him with a better view of your ears while a low hum reverberated, displeased. But he could feel your body shrink in on itself, anyone could see how miserable you looked at first glance. He'd be a monster to lecture you…
So he gently pressed his lips against your flattened ear, closing his eyes as he did so. The contact made you jolt in his grasp, a sad hiccup that broke his heart. Welt's arm was splayed across your back, his hand resting on your hip while the other cradled the side of your face. Just like the perfect caretaker he is, the man began to pepper your furry ears with soft kisses.
You exhaled, finally feeling your body relax under his care. It was everything you wanted and needed- immersed in the scent of his cologne, cradled against his chest, and pampered.
"I heard you behaved today. Is that true? You didn't throw any fits… Kept your poor ears hidden…" The last sentence carried a hint of resentment, but it was meant only for him to hear. The hand that cradled your face slowly moved up, fingers ever so gently massaging the base of your ears to alleviate the ache.
"Mhm" The only reponse you offered was a soft hum of approval, as you didn't trust yourself to speak aloud. Because, oh my, did you felt as if you were on cloud nine; the sound of his pecks sent a much-needed jolt of adrenaline across your body.
And Welt? He was just so proud of you that he almost forgot yesterday's tantrum. Almost. But you would later find out he didn't.
Right now, he wanted to take care of his beautiful cat. His oh-so-pretty kitty… That hat you wore didn't make you any grace, did you think he'd be happy to see your little ears all bent under this thing?
And your tail… what were you thinking?
He took a long, deep breath against your furry ears- a sigh you might say. You felt the comfort of his hand leaving its previous position, causing you o whine at the loss. But then, he brought it down to the very base of your tail. Unfortunately, it was still sadly locked around your waist; he couldn't have that.
This time, it did hurt. He started by pressing his palm against the upper base, moving in a circular motion as to relax the muscles. A sharp whine escaped your lips, which he quickly silenced with a shush.
"You can handle it. It won't hurt for long, I promise. You can be good for me, right?" he cooed in a soft whisper, careful not to hurt your ears. However, at your lack of response, he emphasized his words with a low hum. You immediatly understood, having been taught so well by him. So, you gave the best nod you could manage, which was merely a shift.
He understood, but that was not what he wanted. "Words." he warned, though his tone wasn't unkind.
"Yes…" You huffed.
Satisfied, he returned to the top of your head, kissing your sore ears and burying his nose in the softness of your hair. The distraction helped you forget the painful massage he was giving, his fingers dug into each side of your tail.
Soon enough, his administration turned successful as you finally rewarded him with the whines he desperately needed to hear. Your entire body shivered, and your hands sought refuge between your thighs to warm them up- something he noticed.
"Does it feels better now?" He shifted down to hover above your face, searching or your eyes for to gauge your reaction. But, they were closed; he could feel you beginning to doze off. "Way better, thank you…" You would've slept in his arms if it weren't for his hand traveling up to gently cup the delicate side of your neck.
His thumb gently nudged the edge of your jaw, lifting it upwards.
It was then that you felt the soft press of his lips against your own- a tender peck. He pulled away for a fleeting moment, angling his head to return for more. The sound of your kisses echoed in the dimly lit room, and your soft moan allowed him to slide the tip of his tongue in.
So, of course, you welcomed him in, meeting the wet appendage with an open-mouthed kiss, heavy with emotion. Unable to focus on anything else, you let your body relax in his arms, melting like a sad ice cream in the middle of summer. But he grounded you; he Always did, pressing you further against his chest to keep this pretty mouth of yours on him.
He could hear your whines grow more intense as he finally understood what you were doing with your hips. His eyes narrowed, focused on the sight of your hips jolting as you humped your own hands with indecency.
Poor thing… You felt the corners of his lips lift, until you could feel it no longer. Welt had pulled away to get a good look at your state, face flushed, eyes hazy with dire need. Your ragged breaths were particularly enticing, a true fest for the eyes.
Just for him, though.
Not Dan Heng.
No one else.
He was truly a petty man.
He grazed the back of his fingers down your arms, savoring the way your skin shivered under his touch. But, Welt paused at the apex of your wrists, making a silent request. You complied, driven by a desperate need. Slipping your hands out from the confines of your thighs.
The palm of his hand supported your back as he slid his other arm under your legs, motioning for you to sit in front of him. The width of his chest enveloped you like a soft blanket, almost missing the way his hands gripped the fat of your thighs.
His thumb kneaded your inner thigh and slowly glided down to your knees. Your sad whine made him chuckle, but he quickly showed you what he meant by hiking up your skirt at the sides. His fingers swiftly found the straps of your panties, pulling the elastic down along your thighs.
Such a pretty sound escaped your lips, a choked gasp, reminiscent of a whisper. Yet, it was a sound he undoubtedly heard. After sliding the garnment past your feet, he moved to grasp the back of your knees. You watched in awe as he lifted your legs, parting them on either side of his lap.
He felt your ears twitch against his chin, distressed by the cold wind blowing against your burning core.
Finally.
The tips of his fingers met the poor state of your slit, covered with a thick layer of slick. You exhaled deeply, leaning against his chest with anguish.
He traced up and down, burying his fingers in the fat of your bottom lips so painfully slowly. Slick used to coat the outside of your cunt, spreading it evenly all over before he reached up to tease that throbbing clit.
You felt him slide his other hand down, warming his digits with that expensive arousal he craved to taste. But not once did he stop circling your bud, not even when he had carefully slid one finger in that tight hole of yours.
The pace was agonizingly slow. His middle finger was knuckles deep inside, but it was almost as if he just wanted to dip it- in and out.
Oh, he knew it wasn't enough. Of course he did. That poor pussy of yours had no secrets for him.
But you didn't have the guts to beg for more, not after today's events. You'd obediently wait for him to act…
"Do you want my fingers to work you open?… Or do you want it to stretch?" His voice was as low as a purr, whispering to your sensitive ears. It was almost funny how he assumed you wouldn't painfully stretch anyway. How could you not? Especially when you could feel the outline of his length angrily burying itself in the fat of your thigh.
But as the sweetest gentleman he was, he asked, knowing that sometimes you liked to feel that tinge of pain- or sometimes not. It was always up to you, always about you first.
"Stretch…" But this time, his kitty wanted it to sting. Did you think you deserved some kind of punishment for going against his word? How precious.
He hummed in aknowledgement, slipping his finger out to circle that tender entrance of yours. "How? On your back? Face down? In my arms maybe? Tell me." You couldn't help but feel like he purposely made you long for it, the very tip of his finger tapped impatiently on your fluttering hole.
"A very mean mating press…" You mumbled with a pout, thighs flexing at each agonizing touch. He merely chuckled, the low rumble resonating within your head. "A very mean mating press you say?" He repeated with amusement, clearly taken aback by that filthy choice of words. You only nodded, watching his hand throw two curt slaps against your cunt.
You yelped when his hands went under your armpits, lifting you up from his lap to place you down on the bed. Your body was burning with need. You tried to reach up around his neck to bring him closer. He didn't oblige, but he did grab your wrists to kiss the palm of each hands.
Patience.
He tucked one of his pillow under your lowerwaist, guiding your hips up in a more comfortable position. The next part was your hair that he carefully untucked from your back, sliding it to your side with great care. Oh how you loved when he'd treat you like a princess, making sure to meet your every needs.
He unzipped himself with one hand, face dipping down in the crook of your neck to mouth at your pulse. His other hand switfly unbuttoned your blouse, popping one after the other until he was met with your cute bra. He littered your burning skin with kisses, crashing marks after marks.
He worked you out of those layers, allowing your supple breasts to pool freely out of its cage. You caught his gaze stopping on them for a fleeting second, right before he dipped down to place two tender kiss on each one.
Finally. Finally you felt the outline of his length bury itself inbetween your pussy lips, coating his underside with your arousal. But that's all he did, sliding it up and down, occasionnaly slapping it against your clit. You huffed out, a croaked moan testifying of your growing frustration.
"No condoms?" He asked.
Oh.
Now you knew he was messing with you! Not once did he not go raw Inside that precious cunt. Ever since he took that sweet virginity of yours. You cried to have your first without this layer that separated you both…
You puffed. A very frustrated frown appeared on your face at how he feigned innocence.
"Oh, but sweetheart… isn't it Dangerous? I'm not sure I'll be able to pull out once I'm inside…" the corner of his lips rose up in delight upon seeing you pout. "'Don't want you to pull out!" you cried out. You knew you were being toyed with, but it was the only way to get what you so much needed, by begging.
"Then… what should we do if it takes…? Tell me…" his tone grew heavier as he motionned your legs on his shoulders. "You did ask a mating press afterall…" he added in faux-concern. Welt was playing with you, and you knew he did. But you were too desperate to call him out, especially not when that very thought crossed your mind more than once.
The thrill of ending up with a swollen belly was such a dangerous thought. Oh, but it sounded so nice right now.
You couldn't form a coherent thought, mind in a haze, words caught up in your throat. So you just sobbed your heart out, it began with short sniffles until fat tears fell down your flushed cheeks.
Maybe be went too far… So he shushed your cries, bringing his face down to kiss those pretty tears of yours. "Here… see? It's going in, look." He hushered you and as promised you felt the very fat of his tip probe at your throbbing entrance. His hand caught your jaw, guiding it downwards to make you look at how his length worked its way inside.
You huffed, choking a moan out of your trembling lips as you finally felt his thickness. Even with that heavy amount of slick, his cock still felt impossible to take, bruising your walls. He merely had a few inches inside but his hips began a slow pace. He pushed a little bit more inside each time he pulled back, just to make sure it wasn't too much at once.
"Look at how well you're taking it… Just a few more inches, can you do that for me?" He gently asked- since he could feel that you were beginning to drift away. You felt the tip of his nose nudge at your wet cheek, seeking a response. But when he felt your soft hands around his neck, he exhaled.
Truth to be told, he was also reaching his limits. So he buried the remaining inches in one powerful thrust, finally fully pressing his body down. Your tail had naturally curled itself around his thigh, urging him further.
He opened the ceremony with a bruising pace, pulling out ever so gently just to harshly slam back down. It caught the wind in your lungs, brain turning into a pudgy state. Your eyes were glued together, so focused on the sensation of finally being full.
But Welt was having none of that. "Eyes." He warned.
It took you a few seconds to register. It forced Welt to bury himself to the hilt and painfully stop.
It brought your attention back on him instantly, watery eyes fluttering open to meet his heated gaze. The strands of his hair trickled down the sides of your face, eyebrows frowned as he carefully watched you oblige.
"Better. So pretty." The praise went straight to your head. But you still struggled to keep your eyes open, feeling them flutter at each thrust.
"'I'll go a little faster now, alright?" You hastly nodded, but didn't expect the instant shift of pace. Welt had pressed himself further down to get that perfect angle, allowing him to directly plow back without leaving an inch.
Now it was getting harder and harder to comply with his command. But he did take pity on you, smashing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. That allowed you to finally roll your eyes to the back of your head. Finally focusing on how the tip of his cock kept kissing the spongy wall of your cervix. He reached way too far but you loved every second of it.
You couldn't even voice out your orgasm, in fact, you hadn't even realize it was coming until it arrived. Your whole body tensed up Under his unforgiving pounding, your trembling fingers gripped his shoulders for dear life. And you swore you almost came again upon hearing the low groan he emitted- as he felt your tender and battered pussy clench down like a vice.
The feeling was addictive, Fucking you through your orgasm was maybe one of the best thing there was on earth. Truly. How your body struggled to adapt, spasming at each thrusts, the way your lips babbled sweet Nothings, mixed with your cries. And the best of all, how you so beautifully creamed around his girth.
It did take him a few minutes to finally accept his own climax, but at this point you were long gone- mentally broken by the overstimulation.
Balls deep.
He wouldn't have it any other way. It allowed his thick load to finally claim its spot in your womb- pushing it further and further Inside. The growl he let out against your neck was music to your ears, he'd take a few testing thrusts, a twisted way of waking you up from your daze.
"How're you feeling angel?" He rasped out, pushing himself up to analyze your state.
And what a poor state you were in.
You didn't think it was over, did you?
-
"That's unlike her to miss breakfast… Who saw her the last?" March pointed out inbetween mouthfuls of pancakes, waving the sugary treat in the air as to catch everyone's attention.
Welt could only take a very, very long glance at today's journal news.
"Oh I Wonder… Welt?" But of course Himeko wouldn't let him dodge that one. He froze upon being called out, leaning his journal down and mimicing deep thoughts.
"Yesterday's trip must've tired her out, she's most probably resting back in her bedroom." He gave out a curt smile, a lie that looked trustable enough for March to resume her eating. But not for Dan Heng. "Weird… I knocked on her door this Morning and it was unlocked, no signs of her inside."
He hadn't expected him to pry further, and clearly didn't expect him to seek you out so early in the morning either. Welt oriented his glare towards the table they all sat around, not trusting himself to look at Dan Heng very fondly right now.
Of course you weren't in your room, you were in his- safely tucked in the comfort of his bed.
"Surely in the bathroom." The fact that it was Welt who kept answering these questions made it all painfully obvious. Himeko Simply let out a sigh, picking up her own cup of coffee to finish.
"You're a petty man."
"I know."
Pheeewww, my first one! I don't know why I had that in my mind... but oh well
#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#welt x you#welt smut#welt yang smut#welt yang x you#tw.breeding#tw.praise#tw.manhandle#tw.manhandling#hsr x reader smut#honkai star rail x reader smut#star rail smut#smut#sub!reader#hybrid!reader
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Can you do fluff head-canons for a platonic gravity falls x reader thingy where reader is the twins older sister(by like, two years or smth) please?
If not, that’s completely okay! I just wanted to know. Stay safe, eat well, drink lots of water, love you!!
(i'm so glad that this fandom is back omgg!! Since you didn't exactly specify what type of sister you wanted + with who you wanted hc with so i wrote what made sense to me. So sorry if this isn't what you wanted:((. I can always rewrite, just let me know.)
GRAVITY FALLS X OLDER SISTER!READER
As the older sister to Dipper and Mabel, you have some kind of protective instict towards them. Even though they have proven themself multiple times that they're capable of handling themselves, you often find yourself stepping in to make sure they're safe.
Dipper leans on you for advice and support during his mystery hunts, knowing you’ll help him out of any jam. Oh! He also asks about Wendy daily. Mabel always goes to you when she finds a new guy. Asking you what she should say to him for his attention or if he's even worth it. But she usually ends up doing her own thing..
With Grunkle Stan, you share a playful but caring relationship—he often jokes that you're the "voice of reason" among the kids, but he secretly appreciates your maturity and occasionally seeks your advice (obviously does it secretly).
Wendy treats you like an honorary member of her friend group, and you two usually hang out, talking and sharing snacks on the roof of the Shack. You admire her laid-back attitude and take inspiration from her confidence.
Even Grunkle Ford respects your input during intense situations, and you often work together to solve the deeper mysteries of Gravity Falls.
Despite the sometimes serious nature of your adventures, you’ve kinda became the comforting presence that everyone turns to when things get tough, offering a smile, a joke, or a comforting hug.
#headcanons#fluff#platonic#gravity falls#gravity falls dipper#ford pines#gravity falls mabel#dipper and mabel#grunkle stan#grunkle ford#wendy corduroy#gravity falls fandom#gravity falls x reader
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Not Allowed
Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky
Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?
Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.
You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”
“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”
“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”
Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.
“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.
“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”
“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”
He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.
“I know. How was your weekend?”
“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.
“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”
“You know what alcohol does to me.”
“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”
“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.
“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”
“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”
“You might get fired.”
“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”
He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.
Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.
After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.
“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.
“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.
You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.
“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.
You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.
“What are you doing? You scared me!”
“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”
“I--”
You don’t have any words for that.
“When are you two gonna fuck?”
“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.
“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.
It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.
“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.
“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”
“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”
“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”
“Your name?”
“Brandon Farley.”
“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”
“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”
“Oh, thank you,” you blush.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, but--”
“Great. Can I take you out?”
“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”
“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”
There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.
“Yes.”
“Here’s my number.”
He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.
“I have sticky notes!”
“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”
“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”
“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.
You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.
“Did I hear that right?”
“What?”
“You have a date?”
“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”
“Nothing. No reason.”
Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.
This time, he didn’t.
The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.
“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, what did I do?”
“You accepted a date from someone else.”
You knew it. Why is he bigging out?
“So?”
“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”
“No, he’s just being friendly.”
“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.
The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.
“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.
“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”
You shouldn’t have asked him that.
“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”
Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.
“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”
No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.
About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.
This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.
“Step out of the vehicle, please.”
“No.”
Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.
“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”
“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”
“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.
“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”
“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”
“No, sir, I’m not.”
“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”
“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”
Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.
“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”
Your mouth drops open in shock.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.
“Thank you. I’ll call you.”
You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.
“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”
“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.
“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.
“No, you weren't,” he laughs.
“How do you know that?”
“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”
“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”
That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.
“You’re not allowed to see other men.”
“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.
“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”
Yes, you will.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel fan fiction#marvel fanfic#marvel fan fic#mcu#marvel fluff#mcu fanfiction#marvel fiction
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Stanford Pines x audhd!reader hcs
💕 fluff
loves to listen to you ramble about your special interests and latest hyperfixation
"that sounds lovely, do tell me more"
makes sure to catch up on all the research done, reads every paper he can find on adhd and autism
puts together a profile on how they show themself in you (e.g. your symptoms and behaviour)
figures out through you that he himself is neurodivergent
will make sure you eat and get all the important nutritions. knows that you tend to only eat one thing or not at all. also makes sure you have your safe food on hand at all times
has a list of all the things you loved over time. food, media, sensory input, clothing styles, jewellery, decorations...
makes sure you don't forget anything important and reminds you of any appointments etc.
"dear, have you taken your meds already?"
helps you figure out what things help you cope (certain types of reminders, plans/to-do-lists, noise cancelling headphones, kinds of stimming...)
understands you need to rest and decompress after being out and leaves you alone if you need it
will give crushing hugs if you like the deep pressure. and i mean you will think your rips are about to crack.
i need this so bad and i only have like two people who actually do that and i rarely see them :')
comfortable silence
makes sure everyone closes doors silently and does not let them shut them loudly - will get angry if people disregard it. also warns you if an inevitable loud noise is going to happen so you can put your hands over your ears (like a door slamming shut because of a draft)
being hyped about the same thing and getting all excited together, rambling on an on about it
being in the same room but doing different things silently, fully content with it
learns that this feeling he has from time to time has a name. going non-vebal. and that it's absolutely okay
agreeing on/working out ways of doing specific things together - because some things just have a right way to be done. and that needs to be respected
reminding you not to be too hard on yourself
feels like the luckiest guy in the world when you share his interest and excitement for things
-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated
a/n: requested by this lovely anon! connected to this post
#gravity falls#gf#stanford pines#ford pines#stanford pines x reader#stanford x reader#my writing#gf headcanons#hcs#headcanons#gravity falls x reader#not proof read#requested
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08/16/24 — twisted wonderland <3
with each other — summary. ‘miscellaneous actions with diasomnia and octavinelle <3.’
characters ;; azul, floyd, malleus, lilia , tags ;; reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), reader is implied a good cook in lilia’s part, romantic fluff
a/n ( do we fw the new format? hope we do!! been a while since i made a fanfic but that ends now heh!!
a. ashengrotto — fun aquarium date!!
— the octomer was thinking about possible additions to the lounge, so to help him out you figured a date at the aquarium would do good for possible ideas. his heart skipped a beat at the idea of going out with you, not to mention he was killing two birds with one stone. hence where you and azul were walking, looking around at all the marine life as he excitedly rambled on to you about how he could use this for the aquariums at the mostro lounge.
— honestly, you found it adorable when he was comfortable enough to pour his heart out to you like this, whether about his achievements, his ideas for the mostro lounge like right now, or what was especially common, his love for you. it took him a while to get comfortable around you, especially before you started dating since he wanted to be sure you reciprocated his feelings, but here you were together now, and you were more than happy that he was able to talk to freely to you like this.
— “honestly, the implementation of these new aquariums will definitely bring in some customers, no? it’ll provide a much more welcoming atmosphere-” finally azul turned to you during his rambling, before accidentally cutting himself off when he realized how intently you were listening to him, warmly smiling at him like he was the only thing that mattered to you despite the fact you stopped at this spot just a moment ago just to see the beautiful marine life you mentioned wanting to see in the first place when you suggested the outing, the fish swimming past you behind the glass.
— “hm? what’s wrong azul, something in your throat?” you teased gently, smiling as he coughed into his fist with his flustered expression. “no, nothing..” he knew full well you were listening to him already, after all you gave a little input with some “mhm”s here and there, but sometimes he forgot how passionate you really were towards him. not like he didn’t appreciate it—the fact you were listening so intently to everything he had to say made him warm inside.
— ..the way you smiled so softly at him still made him embarrassed, though..
f. leech — “sleepy head!!” ( him to you )
— ‘huh’, floyd thinks to himself every so often, ‘his little shrimpy really loves to get their rest!’. not that he disapproves, in fact he thinks it’s cute of you! funny at times, too; it wasn’t uncommon for you to take a nap where comfortable enough, usually right beside him. that was where he found the silliest irony. you’d think you would be highest alert around him at least, but you certainly were a brave little shrimp.
— he giggled to himself as he caught you leaning against him during history class, poking at your face to see if you’d wake up any time soon. he was in one of his particularly good moods right then, though it was more rare ( not as if it was impossible, though ) for him to be in a bad one whenever you’re beside him. and you were lucky he was, and that it was one of those days he was willing to participate in class and write down notes. actually, a part of it was probably because he wanted to flaunt that he did and then let you copy it when you were awake ( at least, not before teasing you a bit ).
— and then, the softest of times. it was a beautiful thursday, the warm comfortable kind that feels like having just taken a fresh shower and laying in bed with your blanket. that’s what it felt like to you at least, so right after history class, the final class period of that day, floyd invited you to hang out in the vip section of the mostro lounge. whether or not azul actually approved was always unknown to you when he did it, but you figured it didn’t matter anyway.
— at times like these, he encouraged you to ‘catch some z’s’. excitingly telling you about his day, knowing that despite the way you slowly lulled into your slumber with his voice you believed was so lovely, you were listening anyway until your eyes finally closed. a snort of amusement just barely registering, floyd swinging his feet under the table as he brought his hand up to pat your head. and soon it droops down along with the rest of his upper body, as he slowly falls asleep right beside you, sleeping against each other comfortably.
— ( at least until azul promptly and ( more respectfully on your end, at least ) kicks the two of you out for spending too much time in there ).
m. draconia — silly library date!!
— the moment you mentioned to him your interest in twisted wonderland’s history, whether you were skilled with it or not, malleus brightened up at the idea of rambling to you at least about the history of his land, briar valley. with his hand extended to yours as he linked your hands together to bring you to the library to discuss, you really didn’t have much room to refuse—well, not like you would have refused either way. he always seemed to know how find ways to hang out with you, that was for sure.
— it was rather early into the weekend, so thankfully for the both of you he had all the time in the world to infodump about all the history he knew. that combined with the ice cream and other snacks he knew you’d like that he brought along, it truly was the perfect way to wrap up a friday afternoon. just the two of you, eating food together and talking to your hearts content as the time passed by until you finally had to separate—the both of you had your own things to do after all, as disappointing as it was that you couldn’t be together for longer.
— you hung out like this often, actually, just enjoying the time you spent together, talking about all sorts of things such as your interests; for him, it would usually be about gargoyles. that was something that didn’t take you long to figure out, given that every now and then he would sneakily go a little off topic to also bring up the history of gargoyles as well.
— the thought made you happy, that he was able to talk about his interests so carefree now that the two of you were together. after all, you saw him as who he was, rather than by his title as one of the strongest mages, the prince of briar valley; that was just one of the many things he loved about you. that you saw him as someone equal to you despite all else. that’s probably why he had to trouble chatting your ear off about all the things he liked, knowing that you really were listening to everything he had to say, and knowing you would do the same. and of course, he would always listen to anything and everything you brought to the table.
l. vanrouge — cooking!! ( gone wrong )
— lilia had a,, reputation for his cooking skills, so when he specified that he merely wanted to watch a cooking show with you, you sighed a subtle breath of relief as he tilted his head curiously at the reason why your shoulders drooped in your relief. you waved it off though, not having the heart to insult his cooking skills even though between the two of you you were always the one cooking for him so as to make sure there weren’t any safety hazards ensuing in the kitchen. thankfully enough, he loved your food enough to be fine with you being the main one to feed him and the others whenever he invited to for lunch.
— “ah, wow!! the food they’re making looks delicious, don’t you think my love?” lilia looked at the television in awe, with good reason as you watched the cooking show go on as teams slowly got eliminated to decide the eventual winner. not to mention, the food being served looked mouth wateringly good, too. “definitely..i want to try eating that kind of food.”
— perhaps that was your first mistake, as you missed the encouraged look on his face, a mischievous glint in his eye at your claim while you complained about how the judges could pass off the food being presented to them, knowing you would definitely eat it in a heartbeat. so when he invited you to diasomnia the next day, you didn’t quite know what you were in for just yet until you entered the kitchen as he..haphazardly started cooking, and given what he seemed to be trying to cook, it was for you as well. ( ..perhaps that’s why you noticed silver, sebek, and malleus slowly backing away from the kitchen before you arrived. )
— the moment he turned to face you at the sound of your footsteps, you quickly came to terms with the fact there was no escape with the way he excitedly grinned at your presence. your fate was sealed as he came towards you, clasping your hands in his. “you’re finally here! you mentioned wanting to eat what those cooks were making yesterday, no? i wanted to make something for you!”
— ..as you sat next to him as he encouraged you to eat, you came to one conclusion as you stared at your plate nervously—you need to learn to avoid his cute pleading face.
#(๑^⤙^๑). . approved!#kyupidos#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst x gender neutral reader#twst x gn reader#twst fluff#twst hcs#twst headcanons#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x gn reader#azul x gn reader#floyd x reader#floyd leech x gn reader#floyd x gn reader#twst octavinelle#octavinelle#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x gn reader#malleus x gn reader#lilia x reader#lilia vanrouge x gn reader#lilia x gn reader#diasomnia#twst diasomnia
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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
the endings
⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. click here for game day (group) chapter.
⋆˙⟡ wc: member endings are ~1k each, group endings are less than 500 words each! (in total: ~5k)
⋆˙⟡ reader: no pronouns used for reader at all in any of the endings :)
⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.
⋆˙⟡ endings summary: choose your own ending! jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group (quasi-poly), and group (revenge) are all included. most are angst/fluff and some are suggestive.
⋆˙⟡ warnings: there is no smut in these endings, but they allude to smut that happened previously or suggest smut that would follow these endings. please, minors dni still with this post! member endings are all happy (with angst). revenge ending is also happy, depending on what makes you happy! lol.
I'M SO SAD IT'S OVER. writing the bully series was so much fun! thank you to the anon who suggested it in the first place a couple months ago and for everyone who has given positive feedback/input! i appreciate it so much. these endings are all crafted with so much love! let me know which one you love most. maybe i'll put a poll at the bottom lol. ily, catch you in the next series!!
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
jiwoong 🎭
“so i’ll hand out these scripts and we’ll get started right away,” professor lee announces, walking around the room and handing out scripts for everyone’s assigned scenes. mina sits next to you as usual, except this week she’s staring daggers at jiwoong from across the room. you guess it beats her making googly eyes at him.
mina had called you last night to rant again about how much of a jerk “jiwoong-sshi” is. note the absence of the word “oppa”. you were sorry that he’d stood her up, but you knew what kind of a person he could be long before last week.
and she unfortunately didn’t seem to care how much of a jerk jiwoong was when you were the one bearing the brunt of it.
but you don’t want to dwell on it. you’d just fucked him and four of his friends in the campus activities lounge and had no plans to tell her. she’d asked you how the “revenge” went, but you’d kept it all pretty vague. mina was no prude, but she might have the urge to gossip a bit with news as insane as that. you wouldn’t blame her if she did.
still, you didn’t regret what you did saturday. not even a little bit. in fact, it made you feel kind of proud every time you thought about it.
you spend all of class working on a scene with mina in which you play a really outrageous set of characters trying to escape arrest. it’s a role that you’ve never opted to take before— one that requires you to be bold, funny, and brave.
professor lee praises you after you present it at the end of class. “excellent work. what’s gotten into you, (y/n)-sshi? whatever it is, let’s keep peeling back that shell!”
you smile with pride, eyes scanning the rest of the room until they happen to land on kim jiwoong.
he’s smiling, too.
when class ends, you pick your bag up off the floor and toss in your marked-up script. you’d normally throw it in the recycling bin, but you want to keep it this time. as a reminder of what you’re capable of when you’re sure of yourself.
mina giggles as you walk out the door together and into the hallway. “i’m surprised, but you really pulled that off!”
“i’m not.”
both of your heads whip around to find kim jiwoong leaning against the wall behind you.
“you just needed some... encouragement,” he says with a smirk, but there’s a noticeable warmth in his eyes.
“and what exactly do you need in order to be able to show up to a commitment you made?” mina asks with a scowl. your eyes narrow at him, too.
“listen, i–... i’m really sorry, mina,” he responds sincerely. the fact that he even got her name right has you stifling a gasp— let alone the apology that prefaced it. “i shouldn’t’ve stood you up. that was mean. so i’m sorry.”
mina sucks in her cheek, looking at the ceiling as she considers his sentiment.
“but i actually have something else to apologize for, too,” he adds quickly, gaze moving back and forth between the both of you. “i... i wasn’t really interested in you in the first place. i was—... i used you. to get a reaction out of the person i’m actually interested in.”
his eyes meet yours. your lips part in shock at his sudden confession. you stare at him for a long moment, unspeaking until—
“AREYOUKIDDINGMEYOUABSOLUTEDICKOFAHUMANBEINGYOULIETOANDSTANDUPMYFRIENDANDLEAVEHERINFUCKINGTURMOILOVERYOUANDTHEN—.”
you glance over at mina, expecting to see tears running down her face but instead...
she’s grinning. from ear to ear. and not in a joker sort of way— just genuine happiness.
“i knew it,” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her face and jumping excitedly. “i KNEW it! i knew you both liked each other!”
“you—... what!?” you exclaim, eyes bugging at this bizarre turn of events. “what do you mean, ‘you knew we liked each other’!?”
“i’m also confused,” jiwoong says with a frown. “considering i didn’t really know until, like, yesterday.”
“well, i knew you were going to like each other. eventually,” she says with a nod. “you know, shy, quiet person and arrogant, attractive person trope. it’s destiny!”
“if you really thought that, then why did you wanna go out with him so bad?” you ask through furrowed brow.
“‘cause he’s hot. duh,” she says, shaking her head with a smile as if your question was very silly. “can you blame me for wanting a taste first?”
“well, if it’s just a taste we’re talking about—,” jiwoong starts to offer with a smirk.
“one more word and the only thing you’ll be tasting is—” you interject, balling your hand into a fist.
“aw, first lovers’ spat! i’ll leave you guys to it,” mina says quickly before sprinting off down the now-empty hall.
you look down at your shoes awkwardly. “i have nothing else to say to you.”
“then, you won’t mind if i talk?” jiwoong asks, not waiting for a response to continue. “when hanbin made me start bullying you last year, i honestly didn’t want to. you were pathetic enough already without my help.”
“gee, thanks,” you reply with with a frown.
“but then i sort of started to have fun with it. the way you reacted was absolutely intoxicating. you made it all so rewarding— coming up with a new plan to drive you crazy every day,” he explains. “then last week, when we started that competition, i found a whole new way to drive you crazy. and i liked it a lot more.”
“this is the most convoluted apology i’ve ever received,” you remark with a sigh.
“after saturday, seeing you like that... you were far from pathetic. and it made me proud. i think, somewhere along the way, i just became really fond of you,” jiwoong confesses, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “and i also desperately want to buy you better clothes.”
“okay, i’m leaving now,” you announce, turning on your heel.
“what a coincidence. me too,” jiwoong says, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours as he starts to drag you with him down the hall. “you’re hungry, right?”
you start to protest, but as you look at his handsome side profile— dark hair covering the tips of his ears— you realize you are, in fact... hungry.
“starving,” you answer.
he stops walking to look at you, eyes widening with surprise. “yeah? what would you like to eat then?”
staring at his lips, you can’t help but lick your own. “mina’s right, y’know.”
jiwoong’s head tilts, the corner of his lip upturning slowly as he registers your expression. “is she?”
“mhm,” you answer, pressing your lips to his. he responds quickly: soft, lazy, and stupidly addictive. you can’t believe you let him get away last week without kissing you. you could give him just one chance, couldn’t you? “but what she doesn’t know...”
he attaches your lips again, free hand cupping your jaw.
“is that one taste of you...”
jiwoong inhales sharply as you gently bite his bottom lip.
“just isn’t enough.”
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
hao 🎻
you rush into orchestra on tuesday, already five minutes late. unfortunately, your regular bus never showed at the stop. and then your back-up bus also never showed. which means you had to walk all the way to campus when you hadn’t planned to— your violin case in tow.
rehearsal having started already, you make a beeline for your seat and frantically open your violin case. luckily you’d warmed up your instrument before you’d left your house this week and your bow is ready to play when it hits the violin strings.
or, it would be, if you didn’t just realize you forgot your sheet music.
“oh, for fucks sake,” you mumble, looking up at the sky and begging for the sweet release of death in this tragically embarrassing moment.
a soft creaking noise draws your attention to your left, where you find hao’s music stand is suddenly angled in your direction.
he doesn’t say anything or look at you. he just keeps playing. and so you follow the first chair’s lead.
rehearsal goes surprisingly well. you’re sure you managed to correct all of your mistakes from last week after being able to put more rosin on your bow.
“third and fourth chair are falling behind the tempo,” hao replies when professor ahn asks him for notes about the performance. your eyes widen when he names a violinist other than yourself that needs correcting. “it makes it harder for first and second chair to successfully introduce and complete the next movement.”
first and second chair? hao was voluntarily grouping you together?
professor ahn seems as surprised as you. she nods, writing down her own notes in the binder on her music stand. she waves her hand, dismissing the orchestra for the day. you clean your violin, getting it ready to be put back in its case as your classmates begin to file out of the orchestra room.
“(y/n)-sshi,” professor ahn calls suddenly from the doorway. your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of your name. “you actually played quite well today. i’ll assume it’s because you had the help of the concertmaster’s annotations. don’t be late again.”
you nod quickly, bowing your head respectfully to her. “thank you, professor-nim. i’ll play even better next time.”
you’re left alone with hao as usual, both cleaning your violins with the utmost care. when you finish, you place your instrument in its case before fishing around in the side pocket and pulling out something small.
hao locks his violin case, placing it sideways at his feet. finally, he looks at you.
you hold out the cake of rosin that he’d given you last week and told you to bring to your next rehearsal. you’d be remiss to notice that even though you didn’t show him until after class, he never told professor ahn that you’d stolen it like he threatened.
hao examines the rosin, completely ruined from what you’d both done with it. there was no cleaning it and you couldn’t use it if you tried.
you expect to catch some attitude, but, to your surprise, he smiles. “guess it couldn’t be salvaged, huh?”
“guess not,” you agree with a shrug. “at least you got some use out of it.”
“mm,” he hums after a moment before reaching down and reopening his violin case delicately. his hand disappears into one of the side pockets and pulls out a fresh cake of his premium rosin.
and then he hands it to you.
you stare at it in your palm, wide-eyed. “w-what are you—”
“you’re a pretty decent violinist,” hao says matter-of-factly. “sometimes— not often— but sometimes i feel like you have the potential to be almost as good as me. but you’ll never reach it if you don’t start using higher quality products to care for your instrument.”
“oh,” you reply, brow furrowing as he locks up his violin again. “so you’ve decided to take pity on me now?”
he smirks. “something like that.”
“i guess it’s better than pure hatred,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you tuck the box of rosin into your own violin case.
“i never hated you,” hao says with a frown. you sit back up, lips parting as your eyes meet his. “i didn’t particularly like you, but i only told professor ahn about the mistakes you were making because they were careless. you always came in the next week with those same mistakes completely perfected.”
“so you were motivating me through public shame?” you clarify, one brow piqued in disbelief.
“doing whatever it takes to improve the sound of the orchestra is what sets a great concertmaster apart from a mediocre one,” he explains, deciding to paint himself as a misunderstood martyr.
“oh, i’m sure it was so difficult for you to step up and take one from the team,” you mock, a laugh escaping you at hao’s audacity. “do you hear what you’re saying? you’re so fucking full of yourself. who gave you the right to play god and—?”
hao leans in, connecting his lips to yours mid-rant. your breath hitches in disbelief as he pulls back.
“would you be mad if i said i wanna get to know you better?” he asks, hand resting on your thigh.
you look down at his long fingers on your soft skin. “furious,” is what you answer.
he presses his lips together in a hopeless smile. “i’ll take it that means you don’t feel the same way then.”
“you always think you know everything about everything,” you huff, grabbing his hand in yours and bringing it further up your thigh. “but you don’t. so i guess you will have to get to know me better if you wanna keep being an insufferable know-it-all.”
as soon as a smile appears on hao’s face, it’s replaced by the cutest frown. “i’m sad now.”
“why?” you ask, not sure how your answer could’ve possibly made him sad when it was the one he wanted.
“i took for granted how absolutely fucking adorable you are when you’re angry,” he whines, a disheartened little pout on his pretty lips. “kind of makes me wish i could keep making you angry from time to time.”
you blink at him, looking around awkwardly as a reluctant smile grows on your face. “i mean—... i guess i’d have to worry about my playing skills suffering if you stop completely. that wouldn’t be very responsible of concertmaster-nim.”
“no, it wouldn’t,” he replies, biting his lip in a smirk. you’re fully aware of what this title does to him. “so what should i do to keep you playing well?”
you look up at the ceiling, considering your options. “maybe you could see what other things in the music room fit up my—” “that’s depraved,” hao scolds, shaking his head at you in shock before a grin peeks through. “are you free right now?”
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
matthew 💪
with three weeks left of your soccer unit in phys. ed, you braced for an awkward class on wednesday. as you wait outside in the warm, spring breeze with your classmates, you waited anxiously for matthew to show up.
he doesn’t.
coach yang blows his whistle, signaling for you to form a straight line in front of him. luckily one of your classmates asks the question for you.
“coach-nim! where’s matthew hyung?” the younger boy asks in front of you. “we wanted to talk to him about the game.”
“ah, matthew-sshi is on a strict regimen of weight-training and cardio until the championship,” coach yang answers with a sigh. a little quieter, he adds, “and maybe that’ll teach him to stay in line.”
maybe, you think. maybe not.
it’s a surprisingly pleasant p.e. class. your classmates are respectful, giving you as much grace during the game as possible. your sunbaenim from your calc class even pushes you behind him when a ball comes a bit too quickly towards your face.
“thanks,” you say with a smile.
he smiles back. “don’t mention it.”
this class sure was different when someone wasn’t trying to kill you the whole time. that being said, you’re pretty disappointed that matthew isn’t here. you can’t help but wonder how he would’ve treated you today after saturday night.
when class is over, coach yang hands you a hose, some rags and a ball trolley. he still can’t look you in the eye after what happened. “here’s your supplies. shouldn’t take you more than an hour.”
you nod ashamedly, getting to work right away.
“and a word of advice,” coach yang adds over his shoulder. “don’t be afraid to put him in his place from time to time. you played well today without him. it’s nice to see you have some more confidence, (y/n)-sshi. good luck.”
the last thing you were expecting today was a pep talk from coach yang. you walk over to the right side of the field and pick up a muddy, grass-stained ball and bring it over to the hose. washing it thoroughly and buffing any stains with a rag, you drop it into the ball trolley and make your way to the back of the field to retrieve a couple more.
you grab one from behind the goal, turning around to fetch the other one. but as you do, you come face to face with matthew— tossing the ball gently back and forth between his hands.
“hi,” he greets shyly.
your lips press together in an awkward smile. “hi.”
he doesn’t say anything else for a moment, so you brush past him— bringing your ball back to the hose. he follows behind you quietly, placing his soccer ball on the ground beside yours. you pick up the hose and douse them both in the cold water. matthew picks up a rag and kneels down on the ground next to you, buffing the soccer ball you’d brought over.
you pick up the one he brought over, doing the same. “that one was mine.”
his eyes widen, holding out the ball to you wordlessly in an attempt to give it back.
you can’t help but laugh. “i was just kidding.”
“right,” he replies with a nod, returning to cleaning the ball. “sorry.”
you raise one eyebrow at him quizzically. “are you okay?”
“hm?” he asks before nodding quickly. “oh, yeah. i’m fine.”
“are you sure?” you question further. “because this is my punishment and you’re helping me when you should be getting ready for practice.”
matthew shrugs. “it was my fault.”
“it absolutely was,” you agree, tossing your soccer ball into the trolley. “and you got away with it scot-free.”
suddenly, matthew’s hand reaches toward your forehead— thumb brushing over the tiny scar from where the ball he kicked had scraped your skin. “i shouldn’t have.”
well this is... new. matthew taking accountability for his actions? you never thought you’d see the day.
“i—... um...” he stutters, starting to pick at the grass in front of him. “i think i should probably be punished. for that. and for a lot of things.”
oh.
so he’d really liked it.
“oh. should i tell coach yang to—,” you play dumb, starting to stand up like you’re about to march right into his office yourself.
“NO! ... no. no,” matthew grabs your hand, keeping you seated next to him. he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “want you to do it.”
“huh,” you reply with frown. “i thought you didn’t really prefer people who were tainted.”
“you aren’t tainted,” he says, shaking his head. “that—... that was really immature of me to say. and gross. and i’m... i’m sorry.”
you look at him for a long moment, studying his eyes to see if he’s being genuine or not. there’s no obvious signs of lying. he’s very nervous, but it’s not because he’s being untruthful. maybe it’s because he finally is.
“and i can also assume that you said sorry to the waterboy?” you ask, pressing your lips together in an attempt to not laugh at his panicked expression. “and that defense player on the other team? actually, you should probably just draft a mass apology and send it to every university team you’ve ever played against. it would save some time.”
matthew nods sullenly. “yeah. i can do that.”
you have to admit, you like matthew quite a bit when he’s like this. he’s agreeable, apologetic, and distressingly adorable.
“i appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” you reply, patting him on the shoulder gently. “i think... maybe... we could make this work.”
matthew’s eyes light up at this. “really? you’d wanna keep doing... this?”
you smile. “yeah. it doesn’t sound so bad, now that you’re being nice to me.”
matthew smiles with embarrassment, avoiding your gaze. “i guess i should’ve tried this approach last year. but i—... have you ever heard of alpha male podcasts?”
“matthew,” you groan, palm flying to your forehead in disbelief. “you’re gonna unsubscribe from every single one of those, okay?”
he nods frantically. “of course. they didn’t get me anything anyway, except a light ‘roid addiction.”
“do not tell anyone that, oh my god,” you reprimand, hitting his thigh. “you’re also gonna throw all of that out immediately.
“ah, it was so expensive though,” he winces, tilting his head as he weighs the consequences. “can’t i sell them instead?”
“JUST GET RID OF—,” you shout, cutting yourself off when matthew suddenly leans over and kisses your cheek.
he grins. “you’re so beautiful when you’re disappointed in me.”
“you’re—... you—...” you stutter until matthew leans in again, pressing his lips to yours this time. he pulls back, leaving your brain hazy. “please don’t be so mean to me again.”
he shakes his head decisively. “i won’t. i promise.”
you smile, stomach fluttering as he beams at you.
“but, like... you’re okay with being mean to me sometimes, right?” matthew asks, scratching the back of his neck.
“oh, absolutely,” you answer with a nod. “i’ll start now.”
he laughs passively, obviously interpreting this as a joke. “sure, sure.”
you stand up, hovering your foot over his crotch. “finish cleaning these soccer balls. now.”
matthew’s eyes widen with fear, hopping to his feet immediately, bowing his head to you, and sprinting off to the end of the field to complete his task.
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
hanbin 📝
“hanbin-ah!” you shout, running down the dimly-lit, empty hallway. how far could he have made it in the few minutes since he’d stormed out of the activities lounge without so much as a word.
“hanbin-ah...”
a banging down the hallway to your right seems to signal his location. you turn down it, running until you reach the end and a long hall of public lockers unfolds before you. to your left is a very distraught hanbin, clanging his locker door about as he holds a small book in his hands.
the floor is littered with torn up pieces of paper, that seem to be coming from the book he’s holding.
“FUCK,” he yells, ripping out another page from the book and crumpling it up— tossing it onto the ground, where it lands at your feet.
you bend down and pick it up, carefully unfolding it and reading what’s written:
what the fuck does (y/n) see in junseo hyung-nim? i thought that poem was for me. could (y/n) really choose him over me? is he better than me? i don’t understand. what did i do wrong?
it’s a diary entry— your name, mentioned twice. the confession contained in it sends a chill down your spine. hanbin had posted your poem about junseo sunbaenim out of spite.
out of jealousy?
you pick up another crumpled paper and unfold it, reading:
i just hung up all the copies of the poem around campus. i got the other guys in on it, too. maybe this’ll teach you not to take people for granted. maybe it’ll keep you thinking about me.
hanbin throws his empty journal across the hallway, sitting down on the ground with his back against a locker as he runs a hand through his hair in distress.
you walk over to him cautiously, standing in front of him and waiting until he looks up at you. you hold out the pieces of paper from his journal and drop them on his lap. “so you decided to ruin my life because you couldn’t have me?”
hanbin reads the writing on the crumpled papers, tears suddenly spilling over and streaming down his cheeks. he wipes them away as quickly as they come. his chin dimples up with sadness. it reminds you of something...
you look in his locker, finding his messenger bag and opening the flap. you dig around gently until your hand wraps around it.
you sit down next to hanbin, back against a locker as you place the little, plush hamster in his lap. he stares at it for a long moment before finally picking it up in his hand and giving it a gentle squish. a tear falls onto the hamster’s nose.
“you found this the other day?” he says, rubbing the back of his hand across his cheeks again.
you nod. “he’s cute.”
hanbin smiles. “i was hoping you’d think that.”
“what do you mean?” you ask, a confused pout forming on your lips.
“i was hoping you’d think he was cute,” he says, running his thumb over the hamster’s fur, “when i bought it for you.”
“what?”
“on the class trip to the national library last year,” he continues. “we sat next to each other on the bus and you pulled three plushies out of your bag like it was the most normal thing ever. and you told me all their names and what they wanted to be when they grew up.”
“hanbin-ah...”
“and we took those polaroids of each other outside on the grass. and ate kimbap at the picnic table in the garden. and ran around together finding the weirdest books we could. and then, in the giftshop, they had a bunch of cute plushies themed off of children’s books and...” hanbin rambles wistfully. “and i bought this one for you while you weren’t looking.”
“hanbinnie, i’m so sorry,” you interject truthfully. you see the full picture now and you never had before. “i shouldn’t’ve been so oblivious as to make you feel like i was leading you on, but i was. and i never should’ve told you about that poem in the first place. i’m sorry.”
he blinks back at you before shaking his head adamantly. “it’s— it’s not your fault.”
“but i hurt your feelings,” you assert, meeting his gaze. “and i never wanted to do that. you were my first friend i made at university. actually, you’re the only friend i’ve made at university. how pathetic is that?”
he shakes his head again, brow furrowing sadly. “it’s not. it’s—... it’s my fucking fault that that happened. it’s... it’s all my fault.”
“hanbinnie, it’s—... it’s okay, you—,” you try to alleviate his burden, like the moral person you are.
“no, don’t do that. don’t say it’s okay, because it’s not,” hanbin asserts, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. “i made you share something you didn’t want to. and i betrayed your trust. and i—... fucking—... all because i couldn’t handle my own emotions?”
you chew your cheek nervously. “listen, it’s okay—.”
“you’re the nicest person on the fucking planet if you can sit here and say that’s okay,” he says, a sad laugh escaping him. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but... i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to fully express to you how sorry i am.”
you don’t respond, stunned by hanbin’s genuine apology.
“i could try, though, if you want me to,” he blathers on anxiously. “i could write a hundred thousand words worth of apologies and you could rip them all up and make me start again and—.”
“he looks like you,” you interject suddenly.
he frowns. “hm?”
“the hamster,” you clarify, holding out your hand. eyes wide, hanbin places the hamster in your palm. “he looks a lot like you.”
hanbin doesn’t say anything, his eyes trained on the side of your face as you squish the little plush.
“it’s funny, actually,” you hold the hamster up for him to see. “looking at this hamster and trying to be mad at him is a lot like how it feels when i look at you.”
eyes still wide, hanbin’s bottom lip finds its way between his teeth— not sure how to answer to your overwhelming mercy.
“you’re right. that wasn’t okay,” you say as you bring the hamster to your lips, giggling after you give him a little peck. “but this is okay.”
“this?” he repeats.
“doesn’t this feel pretty nice?” you pose, eyes locking with his. “us getting along?”
hanbin nods slowly. “yeah. it does.”
“what do you say we continue this?” you ask with a smile. “indefinitely.”
“i—...” he stutters as a smile grows on his lips as well. “i’d really like that.”
“me too,” you agree, eyes abruptly narrowing. “but it’ll cost you.”
his brow raises, swallowing hard at your words. “absolutely. anything. name your price.”
you hold up the hamster to the side of your face, doing your best to mimic his little expression. “i want him.”
if hanbin’s eyes could turn to cartoon love hearts, they would. but because he’s a human person, his pupils simply dilate. “you—... i—... he’s yours. he was always yours.”
you grin, giving the hamster a hug. “thanks.”
“thank you,” he says, still reeling from your cuteness. “i’ll miss him, but he’s where he belongs now.”
“maybe you can visit him sometimes,” you offer, biting your lip shyly. “you’re clearly his biological father, after all. i’m sure your presence in his life is nothing less than enriching.”
he laughs. “some father i am. i didn’t even manage to give him a name.”
you smile. “he has a name.”
hanbin tilts his head curiously. “he does?”
you nod. “his name is binnie. jr.”
his cheeks turn red at this suggestion. “really? you want to name him after me?”
you don’t answer. instead, you ask softly, “hanbinnie?”
“yeah?” he replies eagerly.
“do you...” you start, finding the confidence to finish your question. “do you still like me?”
hanbin’s breath hitches in his throat. “um...”
“it’s okay if you don’t,” you assure with a sigh. “i just... a year ago, i didn’t even know someone like you would be interested in me. you’re so handsome. and smart. and the soccer team’s star player. i never even considered the possibility that you felt that way about me. but now, i—... i have more confidence. maybe you accidentally gave it to me, but i have it nonetheless.”
he looks at you intently, waiting for you to continue.
“and i think i realized that... i want you to like me,” you confess. “i wanted you to like me the whole time. i just didn’t want to admit it because i was afraid it was too much to ask for. and i—.”
“(y/n),” hanbin interjects with the fondest smile imaginable. “i like you so much i think my chest might explode.”
you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. neither can he. hanbin brings his hand to cup your jaw, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.
“oh and i’m sorry i fucked all your friends right in front of your face,” you say, pulling back momentarily.
hanbin laughs, shrugging it off. “i totally deserved it. and... it was pretty hot.”
“keep kissing me,” you request with a smile.
“don’t have to tell me twice.”
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
taerae 🎤
after a completely bizarre session of portraits and quotes for the campus newspaper, the boys all awkwardly grab their things and head out the door. as you place your clipboard and pen on the activities director’s desk, you see a familiar backpack shoved behind a chair. you forgot you’d stashed taerae’s bag and phone in here when he didn’t come back for it on friday.
you walk over to it, picking it up off of the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. you shut off the lights, walking down the hallway until you spot your former best friend— sitting alone on the entrance steps to kang hall in the spring night air.
you plop yourself down next to him, placing his bag on the step in front of him. he turns to you, eyes red and watery.
“oh, tae,” you whisper, head falling instinctively to his shoulder.
“why’re you comforting me?” he asks with a sniffle. “you should be punching me in the face or something.”
“would you prefer it?” you joke, trying to get him to smile. “because i can absolutely just—.”
“this is good,” he says with a breathy laugh.
“good,” you affirm, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i love you.”
“(y/n),” taerae seems to plead. “i can’t—.”
“i love you,” you repeat. “and i miss you so much.”
“i—...” he stumbles verbally, but grabs your hand in his. “i—.”
“when did you lose your virginity?” you ask, tilting your head curiously.
he gulps. “uh... a couple years ago.”
“and you didn’t tell me?” you question, a little hurt that he’d kept this big news a secret from you even when you were still friends. “to who?”
taerae shakes his head anxiously. “it’s not that important.”
“oh, come on,” you urge, squeezing his hand. “i told you i lost mine to sungchan oppa during that pool party at mina’s dad’s house.”
he flinches at this. “i remember.”
“it was that same pool party where you threw up in the pool,” you say with a smirk. “an eventful night for both of us.”
“mhm,” taerae mumbles shortly. he was definitely growing more bothered with each mention of that party.
“and to think, a couple of years later we’d do what we just did,” you muse in an attempt to dig something more out of him. “we’ve come so far from you throwing up in the pool at the thought of kissing me.”
“i never said that!” taerae exclaims with frustration. “you said that. and i just... went with it.”
you shake your head, brow furrowing confusedly. “then why did you throw up?”
“because—... because i was nervous,” he says softly. “i was so nervous to kiss you that i threw up in mina’s dad’s pool and then i was so embarrassed that i couldn’t even open my mouth to deny that i was disgusted by the thought of kissing you.”
you blink at him in shock. “did—... did you have feelings for me?”
after a long moment, he nods. but there’s more tension lingering under the surface. you know there’s more that needs to be said.
“i really liked you,” taerae confesses softly. “i never wanted to weird you out or anything, but i just liked you from the first day i met you. i loved being your friend, but i just couldn’t help it. when you told me at that party that you’d hooked up with sungchan hyung... i just got so jealous. i thought i could be cool about it, but i was drunk and...”
your eyes are wide, clinging onto his every word.
“and i hooked up with someone, too,” he admits with a pained expression. “i thought it might be the only way to make you jealous back, so i—... i—...”
you hold your breath.
“i hooked up with mina!” he exclaims quickly, looking down at his lap in shame.
“YOU WHAT!?” you scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look you in the eyes. “that’s not fucking funny!”
“i know it’s not,” he replies despairingly. “i regretted it instantly afterwards. no— while it was happening. i was so disgusted with myself. i hated lying to you, but i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. i thought i wouldn’t have to until last year, when hanbin hyung came up to me in the hallway after class.”
your brow furrows at the mention of hanbin’s name.
“he said he knew what i’d done with mina. apparently he had a few friends that went to the party,” he explains sadly. “and that if i didn’t do exactly what he told me to, that he’d tell you what i did and he’d make things even worse for you. i just couldn’t let either of those things happen.”
“how—... how did you even manage to bag mina?” you ask in a daze.
“well, i mean,” taerae grimaces. “it’s mina.”
“she’s a total slut,” you nod, catching on immediately. “more power to her.”
“the most power to her,” taerae agrees quickly.
“why didn’t she tell me?” you wonder.
“oh, that one’s easy,” taerae answers with a shrug. “she said she’d rather die than let anyone know we slept together.”
“that sounds like mina,” you affirm. so the truth was out. it’s hard to wrap your head around everything all at once, but you were definitely relieved that taerae didn’t actually hate you. he was just an idiot.
“i’m so sorry, (y/n),” he apologizes genuinely. “for everything.”
you sigh heavily. “i’m sorry, too.”
taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “what do you mean? you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“i’m sorry i bragged to you about losing my virginity. i could’ve been more sensitive with that information,” you reply. “and i’m sorry that i said you threw up in the pool, because you didn’t want to kiss me and never asked you what the truth was. i could’ve been more considerate of my best friend.”
“i love you,” taerae says abruptly. “being without you this year was literally the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
you nod in affirmation. “let’s never do it again.”
“never,” he agrees with a wide, dimpled grin. that smile you missed so much. you watch it fade naturally, replaced by a fond gaze. but you desperately want to see it again.
so you do the only thing that you can.
you kiss him.
he pulls back after a moment, that perfect grin shining back at you. it’s enough to light up the night sky.
“i know i was using the past tense before, but,” taerae says, biting his lip. “i still really like you.”
you smile, pulling him back in to meet your lips again. “prove it.”
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
group (poly) 🥵
you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.
"so, uh," jiwoong starts, scratching the back of his neck. "are we gonna do those interviews now?"
you shrug. "you can just text me a quote, if you want. probably easier actually."
they all agree nonverbally, the uncomfortable haze still lingering in the air.
"you can also text me about when you'll be free again," you add, the boys heads turning rapidly to look at you.
"uh... which one of us?" matthew asks with a frown.
you shrug. “whoever’s down.”
“you—… you wanna do this again?” hao asks, lips parted in shock.
“why not?” you answer honestly. “i had fun. but if you’re not into it, that’s okay too.”
“i’m into it!” hao replies a bit too quickly. “i just meant that… i didn’t know you would be.”
“i guess before last week, someone would’ve had a hard time convincing me that i’d wanna do this once— let alone twice,” you admit with a smile. “but i think i’ve proved i changed.”
“and you’re okay with… changing?” taerae asks, worry in his eyes.
you nod definitively. “yeah. i am.”
“so, after all this, you’ve decided you just wanna fuck all of us whenever you want?” hanbin asks, standing up from the desk he’s sitting on and walking over to you. “you really think you’re hot enough for that?”
you smile at him. “no one’s forcing you to participate.”
hanbin frowns, studying you as you hold eye contact.
“don’t be too upset, hanbinnie,” you say with a pout. “you’re the one who wanted me to fuck your friends in the first place. you just forgot to consider i might end up really liking it.”
he stares at you for another long moment. and then, he smiles. “i guess you’ve won your own game then?”
you smile back. “i guess i have.”
“then i have to pay the price, fair and square. we all do,” hanbin nods with respect— an undeniable warmth in his gaze. “congratulations.”
you look at the other boys around you— excitement reaching their eyes as you grin. were they really all yours now?
“thanks,” you say happily. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
group (revenge) 😈
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
you look around the room, every boy avoiding eye contact with you in an attempt to quell the awkward tension. it feels amazing. exactly how you were hoping it would.
"hey, is that camera on?" jiwoong suddenly asks, pointing at the camera you set up by the photo wall to take portraits for the campus activities interviews.
at least, that's why you told them you set it up.
"there's a little red flashing light," hao observes with a frown. "to the left of the lens."
"did—... did you record this?" matthew asks, fear palpable in his eyes as he looks at you.
you hop off the desk you're sitting on, grabbing your shorts and shimmying them on. walking over to the camera, you hit the record button again to stop filming. then you, take the camera off it's tripod and throw it in your bag that's sitting on the ground beside it.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you boys," you say, making your way towards the door.
hanbin stands up, grabbing your shoulder. "what are you gonna do with that?"
you shrug. "nothing."
his brow furrows tensely, not sure whether to relax or not.
"yet," you finish.
"(y/n), please," taerae begs from behind you. "please don't post that."
"i'm not gonna post it," you say, rolling your eyes. "i'm in the video, too, remember?"
the boys look around at each other, not sure what to do.
"but if i have to," you threaten, unlocking the door, "i won't hesitate. could anything be worse than what you've already put me through?"
"wait, (y/n)!" jiwoong calls. "we're—... we're sorry. we're all really sorry for everything."
"i'm sure you are," you reply, opening the door and exiting the activities lounge...
"i'm sure you'll stay sorry for a long time, too."
#zb1 smut#zerobaseone smut#zb1#zerobaseone#zb1 fics#zb1 imagines#zb1 x reader#zerobaseone fics#zerobaseone imagines#zerobaseone x reader#kim jiwoong#jiwoong#kim jiwoong smut#jiwoong smut#kim jiwoong x reader#jiwoong x reader#kim jiwoong fics#jiwoong fics#zhang hao#hao#zhang hao fics#zhang hao smut#zhang hao x reader#hao smut#seok matthew#seok matthew smut#seok matthew fics#seok matthew x reader#sung hanbin#hanbin
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There's some kind of connecting thread - and I can't quite articulate what it is - between Laudna's reaction to Bor'dor's betrayal, her reaction to Ashton taking the fire shard, and Orym carrying Otohan's sword.
In all three situations, someone deeply, deeply hurt did something that was grounded in their personal grief. And in all three cases, Laudna's reaction was of extreme, personal betrayal. (This isn't critical of Laudna, btw; she's a fascinating character and I think Marisha is doing an incredible job of leaning into the reality of how trauma can make you act in heightened, messy ways that are very difficult for everyone around you.)
Everyone was hurt and shaken by what happened with Bor'dor and Ashton, and understandably so, but I think it's telling that Laudna phrased both events as, specifically, a betrayal. 'I can't be betrayed again,' as she drains the life from Bor'dor (as opposed to, say, Orym's attitude toward killing Bor'dor, which was less 'we need to kill him because he betrayed us' and more 'this is a grim necessity, because we are at war.') Ashton does something incredibly ill-judged, and Laudna's interepretation of it is 'they betrayed us.'
Orym takes Otohan's sword, and Laudna sees it, again, as a personal affront. She challenges him for having the audacity to carry it. The sword killed her. (It also killed half the people in the room, including Orym.)
Something... something about how Laudna saw Ashton trying to absorb a powerful magical artefact because he'd convinced himself it was the right thing to do, and felt so injured that she ran into the forest for a night. Something about how Laudna tried to absorb a magical artefact because she'd convinced herself that it was the right thing to do, and felt injured by Orym's defiance.
I don't have a clear point here; Laudna isn't a character I've studied as closely as some others (and I would very much appreciate anyone who has been analysing her more deeply offering any input!) But one thought I had is this: Laudna once said that the worst thing that could have happened to her has already happened. And I think maybe Laudna sees what happened to her as the worst thing that could happen to anyone. It seems hard for her to understand how much the actions of those around her - be it Bor'dor being radicalised, Ashton going about their attempt to understand themself in entirely the wrong way, Orym trying to reclaim a painful piece of his past and turn it into a promise - can be rooted in a pain that might be equal to her own.
Of course, it's hard to tell how much of it is Laudna at this point and how much is Delilah, but... honestly, it is such a bold choice for Marisha to do this. Because this is what trauma does. It makes things feel personal that might not be directed at you at all. It makes your grief into an enormous monolith that towers over your life, and can overshadow, in your head, anyone else's. It makes you want to protect yourself in every way possible when a flicker of it occurs again.
And... I think it's another sign of how much Delilah is taking from Laudna. Because who in this story has been fixated on their own grief and loss, to the point of ignoring the pain they cause in their attempt to fix that loss at any cost, than Delilah Briarwood?
#gonna keep thinking about this because i'm sure there's a clear connection and I can't quite put my finger on it#again: this is not critical of laudna as a character! please don't take this as an attack on her#just... trying to get inside her head y'know?#her actions are hurting people. i want to analyse what's up!#critical role#cr spoilers#cr3 spoilers#laudna#my cr meta
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ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS: Pavitr Prabhakar
@emmy-luv Hi! this is literally the first request i've ever gotten!! i literally watched the new movie last night and started working on this immedietely after beecause i was so excited. there aren't really any spoilers in here- but i got a better feel for Pavitr's charecter after watching it so i'm glad i waited. i hope you enjoy :D
🕷 - Pavitr falls hard and fast.
🕷 - A die hard romantic at heart. He sees you, and he’s immediately taken by everything about you. His heightened senses will clue him in to even the smallest of quirks or habits, and oh! The way you scrunch up your nose is so cute!
🕷 - In the first instance of meeting you he is 100% all over you instantly.
🕷 - he'll talk a mile a minute about anything he has any input on. He also waits eagerly to hear what you have to say, tell him what you think! how do you feel about this? what do you think about that? This colour suits him, no? He knew you’d think so! That’s why he wore it.
🕷 - It’s his way bonding with you. He’s just so excited to chat with you. "This colour would look nice on you, Jalebi."
🕷 - He will show off in front of you. YOU KNOW HE WILL.
🕷- He will be over the top while doing even the most mundane things. You know those crazy stunts they pull off in Bollywood movies? Yeah it’s kind of like that.
🕷 - From opting to athletically dive off of a building instead of taking the stairs, to backflipping gracefully into a sitting on a chair. All the while he’s peaking discreetly over his shoulder to make sure you’re watching.
🕷 - he’s a little strange lmao
🕷 - He wants to look good for you, usually his fantastic looks are low maintenance but he finds himself picking up a new spray in the hopes for you to notice. And, not that he needs it, but you’ve even gotten him to start using conditioner. oh ho boy, You’ve really got him wrapped around your finger.
🕷 - He seeks out your approval, and when he gets it he absolutely preens. even a fool would recognise the puppy love from a mile away.
🕷 - He is naturally confident, and he wholeheartedly believes in his abilities. But everyone gets a little nervous when they have a crush, even Pavitr.
🕷 - Surprisingly he can become flustered quite quickly if you’re too generous with your compliments. His laugh will get louder and and his ears will go a bit red.
🕷 - He will swoop in to your rescue every chance he gets. It might get annoying to you after a while, or not. just be careful, If you make the mistake of complaining about the traffic of the city then you’ll find yourself suddenly hundreds of feet swinging the air in the direction you were headed.
🕷 - …What? He likes how you feel against him, carrying you is a breeze for him, he is incredibly strong after all. just sit back and enjoy the ride.
🕷 - I hope you don’t value your personal space. He’ll glue himself hip too hip with you whenever he can. He’s all over you in many other ways as well. He’s very touchy feely with those he’s affectionate with.
🕷 - if you’ve watched the movie you’ll know that he’s a great judge of character, and he’s also particularly in tune with your emotions. If you need space he will endure through the terrible experience of not being near you 24-7. He’s being very brave about it!!!
🕷 - just because he's clingy doesn't mean he isn't respectful.
🕷 - If your feeling out of place in a room he will find a way out for the both of you to get away for a bit.
🕷 - If there’s one thing you don’t have to worry about its a lack of transparency. Pavitr is honest with his intentions from the get go and will profess his loyalty for you so that theres no way to confuse his intentions. It might’ve already been a bit obvious when he started giving you flowers… But oh well, you appreciate his forwardness anyway?
🕷 - He introduces you to his family! He’s serious about you, after all. He will do everything to ensure you feel welcome in their home. He emphasises your radiant personality to his aunty by speaking out about all of your wonderful qualities while simultaneously showing how dutiful he can be to you by running to get you both some more Paneer Pakora and Masala chai.
🕷 - He can do long distance. No, really. Love is not dead. He will travel any distance to see you.
🕷 - Wether you’re from another dimension or you’re his next door neighbour he will make it work.
🕷 - If you’re from another universe your own city’s assigned Spider-person might get shown up by him a bit, this is even if you aren’t personally acquainted with them. His eagerness to show off in front of you might cause a few problems.
🕷 - It's not insecurity per se… he just needs to make sure you know how much better he is! All harmless fun!
🕷 - In the case that you are close with them Pavitr will rise to the challenge of any competition he picks up on between him and the other spider.
🕷 - If you need any rescuing then he’s there in an instant, revelling in getting to be the one to carry you to safety. he will laugh and crack quick witted quips to assure you that everything is ok. If you’re left shaken and in need of a little comfort he will gladly coo and dote on you gently. “Its ok, sweetie, main idhar hi hoon."
🕷 - If you’re ever in any danger— any real danger— all theatrics are off, and he will find himself moving faster, striking harder and fighting more forcefully then he’s ever had before. his heart is in his throat every second you’re in peril, and he won’t stop until you are in his arms.
🕷 - The moment you are safe he holds you tight, tighter than ever before. Voice quaking, he whispers how glad he is that you’re ok. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him, To bear the fear he’s feeling to you. He won't let you go for a while after that.
🕷 - If you’re even a little hurt he acts like you’re dying.
🕷 - “What’s this!! A mark? MEDIC!!!”
🕷 - Don’t worry, he’ll make sure you get any attention you need, medical or otherwise.
🕷 - smooch.
🕷 - He is incredibly cheesy. But he means well!
🕷 - He’s thoughtful, too. Your time spent together will be filled with well planned dates, maybe sharing some good traditional food in front of some gorgeous scenery. He’s an utter gentleman and takes pride in sweeping you off your feet.
🕷 - he can also be a bit over the top, but he means well!
🕷 - He’ll stay true to you, no matter what.
🕷 - If you ever ask him for anything then your request takes first priority. he will drop almost anything that he’s doing to satisfy you (this doesn’t include a bus full of passengers hanging off a cliff sorry).
🕷 - If you aren’t from India, or even from Mumbatan then he will be so excited to share his part of the world with you! He’s proud of his culture, and If you take an interest in it his heart will swell three sizes bigger. He appreciates that you’re so respectful and will patiently explain or share whatever you’re interested in to you.
🕷 - I feel like he’d know a lot of yo-yo tricks. he’ll show you a few of the ones he pioneered himself.
🕷- he strikes me as a peck on the cheek kind of guy.
🕷 - he’s also super cuddly! do i even have to say?
"Jalebi": a type of sweet that’s popular in the indian subcontinent
CHANGED: "yahee hai, yahee hai, priy." : That’s it, That’s it, dear.
TO: "main idhar hi hoon" : "I'm right here."
( thank you sm @bluebird-in-the-breeze for leaving a comment with the corrections to the dialogue :') i'm so lucky that you saw it and i'm really thankful that you were kind enough to help me improve it. your a real one fr!!)
Masala Chai: Masala tea (a type of tea.)
Paneer Pakora: a popular snack in Delhi, its Indian cottage cheese deep fried in a light coating of spiced flour. (yummy!)
Mumbatan: the in-spiderverse mashup of Manhatten and Mumbai (Mumbai is the capital state of Maharashtra, India)
I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating Hindi* or any other languages let me know! i'd be really interested.
#you should go follow bluebird-in-the-breeze cause theyre lovely and wonderful#spiderman india#pavitr prabhakar#pavitr prabhakar x reader#spiderverse x reader#across the spiderverse#into the spiderverse#across the spiderverse x reader#spiderman#spider man#romantic#i want to be respectful#so tell me if theres any way to improve any cultural references i've put in here#no spoilers
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Yuri on Ice characters dating a fem s/o who/that is a fashion designer and s/o designs their costumes for Figure skating competitions.
Yuuri Katsuki:
Yuuri Katsuki's relationship with his fashion designer girlfriend is a match made in heaven. She understands his passion for figure skating and knows how important it is for him to feel confident and comfortable in his costumes. She puts her heart and soul into creating unique and stunning designs that not only showcase Yuuri's talent on the ice but also reflect his personality and style.
Yuuri's girlfriend spends hours sketching, sewing, and perfecting every detail of his costumes. She takes inspiration from his music choices, his favorite colors, and even his skating style to create one-of-a-kind pieces that make him stand out on the ice. Yuuri is always amazed by her creativity and talent, and he feels grateful to have someone who supports him in such a special way.
Their relationship is a true partnership, with Yuuri providing feedback and suggestions while his girlfriend works her magic with fabrics and embellishments. They share a deep bond built on trust, communication, and a mutual love for their respective crafts. Yuuri's girlfriend is his biggest cheerleader, always there to encourage him and lift his spirits, especially during challenging times.
When Yuuri steps onto the ice wearing one of his girlfriend's creations, he feels like he has a piece of her with him, giving him the strength and confidence to perform at his best. Their love and collaboration shine through in every costume, making each performance a true work of art that showcases their shared passion and dedication. Yuuri is grateful to have such a talented and supportive partner by his side, both on and off the ice.
Victor Nikiforov:
Victor Nikiforov's relationship with his fashion designer girlfriend is a match made in heaven. Not only does she understand his need for unique and captivating costumes for his figure skating competitions, but she also has the talent and creativity to bring his visions to life. Victor trusts her implicitly with his wardrobe, knowing that she will always come up with something that will wow the audience and judges alike.
Their collaboration is a true partnership, with Victor providing input on the overall look and feel he wants to convey on the ice, and his girlfriend translating that into stunning designs that perfectly complement his performances. She takes into account every detail, from the cut of the fabric to the embellishments and accessories, ensuring that Victor's costumes not only look incredible but also enhance his movements on the ice.
Their relationship is not just about work, though. Victor and his girlfriend share a deep bond of love and mutual respect. He admires her talent and dedication to her craft, while she appreciates his passion for figure skating and his unwavering support of her career. They make time for each other amidst their busy schedules, enjoying quiet moments together and celebrating each other's successes.
Overall, Victor and his fashion designer girlfriend make a dynamic and inspiring couple. Their love and creativity shine through in everything they do, both on and off the ice. And with her by his side, Victor knows that he will always have the perfect costume to help him shine in the spotlight.
Yuri Plisetsky:
Yuri Plisetsky, also known as the Russian Punk, may come off as tough and intimidating on the ice, but when it comes to his fashion designer girlfriend, he shows a softer side. His Girlfriend is not just any fashion designer, she is the one who designs and makes his costumes for his figure skating competitions.
Yuri is known for his fierce determination to be the best in figure skating, and having a girlfriend who understands his passion and supports him in such a unique way means the world to him. He may not always show it, but deep down, he appreciates the effort and love that goes into each costume she creates for him.
Despite his rough exterior, Yuri trusts his girlfriend's talent and creative vision when it comes to his costumes. He knows that she understands him better than anyone else and that her designs will not only showcase his skills on the ice but also reflect his personality and emotions.
In moments when Yuri is feeling the pressure of competition, his girlfriend's presence and her beautifully crafted costumes give him the confidence and motivation he needs to skate his best. Their relationship is a perfect balance of passion, dedication, and love for their respective crafts.
Yuri may be the Russian Punk on the ice, but with his fashion designer girlfriend by his side, he is able to show a different side of himself - one that is vulnerable, appreciative, and deeply in love.
#Yuri on Ice#yuri on ice headcanons#yuri on ice x reader#yuuri katsuki#yuuri x reader#yuuri katsuki headcanons#Victor Nikiforo#Victor x reader#Victor headcanons#Yuri Plisetsky#Yuri#Victor#yuuri#Yurio#Yurio x reader#Yurio headcanons
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