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myfictionaldreams · 5 months

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~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget (fluff, smut, angst)

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You (smut)

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one. (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2) (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean (fluff, angst)

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant? Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst)

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

#mafia!stucky #mafia stucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #mafia au #mafia!stucky masterlist #mine*#mafia stucky masterlist #steve rogers masterlist #bucky barnes masterlist

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81folklore · 7 months

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dress - SV5 - part 2

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise

authors note: part two because i didnt realise how long it had gotten but im allergic to actually writing.. also i apologize for the first part literally just being build-up.. i honestly didnt know about the 30 pic limit so...

authors note 2: i used google translate for the german so i hope its correct, also i dont know if petnames like darling or sunshine are used in germany but i had to use them

authors note 3: i actually hate how this turned out :/ but it was very hard to actually get my thoughts onto the page so this will do! this is part 2 so go read part 1 first!!

part 1 part 3 masterlist

ynupdates

liked by user5, user77, olliebearman and 45,920 others

YN IN THE F1 PADDOCK TODAY, I REPEAT YN IN THE PADDOCK

view comments

user77: sorry i dont follow f1, i thought the races were on sundays?

user5: dont be sorry! today is qualifying and tomorrow is the race!

user5: SHES THERE I CANT STAY CALM

user91: does anyone know who she was with in those photos of her by the track?

user5: sebastian vettel and mick schumacher!

user6: SHE WAS WATCHING QUALIFYING WITH SEB AND MICK?? SEB VETTEL?? AND MICK SCHUMACHER?? OH LORDDD

user12: i thought i would survive.. i lied

ynupdates

liked by user5, user20, user99 and 101,782 others

seems like yn is with redbull at todays race looking as gorgous as ever!

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user5: OH OH OH OH

user5: SHE IS STUNING HOLY

user20: her style recently has been AMAZING

user68: out of every team i think redbull would have been one of my last guesses

user6: THE WAY SHE IS WITH REDBULL AND SPENT QUALIFYING WITH REDBULLS GOLDEN BOY OH I FEEL SICK

user99: i love her so much

user42: at least her team will win

user591: IS SHE WEARING A WEDDING RING??

user618: i think so?? honestly i wouldnt be surprised shes very private and has been with her partner for almost 8 years so no wonder he popped the question

user90: i need her to be at every gp

ynupdates

liked by charles_leclerc, user55, user81 and 234,891 others

yn on stage performing dress during the post-race concert at suzuka! as far as we know it was a complete surprise, she came on to sing dress then left. this is her second time performing it to a live audience!

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user81: WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO HEAR DRESS LIVE

user5: charles and seb were both spotted watching her from the side of the stage!

user81: charles taking seb to see his favorite artist..what if i cried

user55: i cant believe i lost dress twice without even knowing i could lose it😭

user8: i hope she had so much fun, ive missed her doing stuff like this :’)

user12: apparently she was laughing and looking off stage at someone throughout, possibly her partner?

user1: SHE AWLAYS LOOKS SO GOOD

user13: so much content this weekend..im going to have major withdrawls

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 13,712,847 others

four years ago i was given the pleasure of marrying my best friend

i am unable to really put into words how much meeting you and getting to spend the rest of my life with you has changed my life seb, but i tell you i love you enough daily that i hope you understand

when we first met i had no idea how much you would impact me and the way i think, but you have helped me become the woman i am today and i am forever grateful for that

i often feel unworthy of the life you have given me, the life we have together. i wonder how i got to be the one you love and cherish and i know how lucky i am to be the one you spend your life with

you gave me your heart and i promise to look after it for as long as im here, i promise to keep it safe and i know you will look after mine

danke, dass du mich liebst, danke, dass du dich um mich kümmerst. (thank you for loving me, thank you for taking care of me) Ich verspreche, dich bis zu meinem letzten Atemzug zu lieben. (I promise to love you until my last breath) Ich werde nie aufhören, dich zu lieben, Mein Sonnenschein. (I will never stop loving you, my sunshine)

tagged: sebastianvettel

comments on this post have been limited

sebastianvettel: Danke, dass du dein Herz geöffnet hast und mich dich lieben lässt, mein Schatz (Thank you for opening your heart and letting me love you, my darling)

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 8,728,712 others

I won the most important race. It was the race into the heart of the love of my life, yn. I love you.

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yourusername: 🩵🩵🩵

user5: I CANT DO THIS STOP

user12: hes so sweet :(

user18: ive known about them for a total of 2 minutes but i love them already🫡

user6: dress was written about him…

user71: i feel ill wehn will i get posted like this

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris and 10,120,859 others

the sunshine of my life

view comments

yourusername: i love you so much

lewishamilton: very happy for you mate!

user13: THEY LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH OH MY GOD😭😭

landonorris: 🥹🥹

user82: DRESS WAS WRITTEN BY HER FOR HIM AND HE WAS PROUD OF IT OH LORD

user5: literally my favorite people in the entire universe🫶

user19: still in shock that theyve been married for four years

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #famous!swift!yn

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stayinlimbo · 2 months

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the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡

there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception.

“you’re going to laugh.”

“no i’m not.”

“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room.

“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.”

minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin.

the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside.

minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.

and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily.

work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state.

you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge.

you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.

too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit.

“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”

“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release.

minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now.

a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.

you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory.

uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty.

and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains.

you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious.

“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”

you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?

…right?

you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would.

“it’ll grow back.”

“i know.”

“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own.

you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.

“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.

you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?”

“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.

“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”

“do what you want, whenever you want.”

because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.

“i will be here for you. always.”

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

(“i still have to go to work.”

“just wear a hat.”)

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

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nicromancytarot · 30 days

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WHAT IS YOUR STRONGEST PSYCHIC ABILITY

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD

I asked my spirit guides what your strongest psychic ability is, pick a pile and find out what they had to say.

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

Alchemy.

Alchemy is the act of turning metals into silver and gold, it was created in hopes of being able to find cures to diseases and therefore extending the longevity of life. Now obviously I’m not saying that you are able to physically turn a base metal into silver or gold, however I am saying that you mentally have the ability to turn something dull, into something great. You might find yourself to be an incredibly positive person, or perhaps you are very optimistic, this is due to your ability to fix whatever is going wrong in your life.

I am getting the message that you need to learn how to harness this ability so you can use it intentionally rather than on accident.

An example of this ability could be shown when someone is super depressed, everything’s going wrong for them in life, but all the sudden they rise like nothing even happened, they are able to turn a shitty situation into one of their greatest accomplishments, and all it takes is their mind and soul.

Extras: The Weeknd, The moon, Green, White, America, Bisexual

PILE 2

Clairaudience.

Clairaudience is the act of being able to hear things that exist in a paranormal matter. An example of this could be your own voice in your head, like a little internal narrator which is talking to you and telling you random things, perhaps they are reminding you of something you forgot, or maybe they are telling you not to do something. These voices can sometimes appear from outside of your body, you may hear them as though they are existing within the physical realm. However, do not get this confused with other mental health issues, if these voices tell you something disturbing or uncomfortable, those are not to be mistaken as an awakening or guide trying to reach you.

Now that being said, since you have the ability to hear things, you may go to a location that has unknown paranormal activity, and you could possibly hear something that no one else does, like footsteps, a scream, a screeching chair, the list goes on.

Your greatest ability is to take in those messages in which you receive, and using those to your greatest advantage to learn and understand more. This is one of the best ways to communicate with the higher beings (Spirit guides, The universe, God, etc)

Extras: Stars, James Marriott, Chicago, Boxing, Yellow, City man

PILE 3

Mediumship.

Mediumship is known for its ability to be able to see beyond the physical realm. It is greatly understood for being able to see spirits and even communicate with them. It may be that you can see those spirits clearly as if they are like real people who you can interact with. Or it could be that you see them in your minds eye, as if you can describe them, but they are just a projection of a thought that has been placed into your brain.

The ability itself is certainly one of the most interesting, you may find yourself able to beckon upon these spirits, you may feel as though they are called towards you or vice versa.

You could even have the chance to speak to and meet yours, or others higher selves, having introspective conversations with them to learn more about what you need to know for the future.

This could be something you grew up aware that you could do, or possibly something that comes to you with time. It may not appear obvious at first, perhaps it’s just shadows in the corner of yours eyes, or visual premonitions, if so, you can totally begin working on it, if that’s what you desire.

Extras: loud, Blue, Blueberry, Saturday, Molly, Beer, Madison Beer, Montell Fish

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

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rosemaeridream · 2 months

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bandspa - aespa band au

warnings: sexually suggestive, college/band au, reader changes depending on who they're with, so go figure i guess, teenie-tiny amount of music theory

A/N: hi, i have writer's block, yaaay!! anyway i really wanted to write something with band!aespa (bandspa) but everytime i chose one member i wanted to write another member and then i couldn't write anything, so... we are at a stalemate. instead! i just decided to give you some imagines so at least y'all have something, also i got a little carried away with ning, might write something full for her later

word count: 2.5k

jimin

bass player through and through

half the fan base is down BAD for jimin even if another member is their favourite.

band creator with aeri - they’re in a college music class together and they bond over a love for similar music so they decide to start one (they string along minjeong and ning after a few dud members and BOOM sell-out-gigs)

bops along to songs on the side most of the time but when she gets a solo she is FRONT !! and CENTRE !!

literally this girl- insane. whenever one of the other members is sick she’ll joke about filling in for them just because she’s talented enough to actually do it (except ning, cause that girl cannot play drums for the life of her, something about hand eye coordination in front of a drum kit fucks her up)

you’re one of her fans, always milling around the side of the stage to snatch up the set list when they finish 😭

one time she kisses the set list and you now have it tacked up on your wall, lipstick smooch for you to wake up to (you've tried kissing over it yourself, ya freak)

definitely teases you about that after she found out

anyway, jimin being jimin ends up chucking you her pick and some other personal items from her sets (see: water bottle, hair clip, ect.) but realises she’s thrown you one too many things and finds you after the set to ask for her lucky pick back

she sorta understands that you’re her biggest fan and ends up asking you back to the greenroom (literally just a glorified storage room) for a chat

you think she’s pulling a groupie x band member hanky panky thing on you, and ofc you’re down for the ride

turns out she seriously just wanted to talk??? (you gain +100000000 respect for her)

keeps talking to you after performances cause shes seriously interested in the things you talk about

eventually just has the gall to ask you out on a date - “can we take this further?” or “are you doing anything after this?” type shit

loves going to the arcade with you to play ddr and table hockey, then takes you by other gigs on the way home - she especially likes jazz bars and drags aeri along with y’all to watch (aeri doesn’t mind being a 3rd wheel to you two)

she entertains groupies, but you both know that jimin only has room in her heart to love you

often you join in with her antics, teasing her fans and pulling pranks on them

whenever you pick her up from band practice she lets you play her bass, teaching you how to play your favourite songs (and all her simpler ones too)

really she’s just choosing the bass note of a chord and maybe a third or a fifth to play so it's super easy for you and you won’t get frustrated and quit

not to be absolutely biased but you love it when she gets little parts to sing - mostly its minjeong and ning singing with her and aeri pulling through with backup vocals when needed, but in some songs she has a couple lines of her own

always sings like she’s being held at gunpoint, raw emotion, full power, you have to beg her to ask for a song where she’s the main vocalist - apparently its in the works so you’re happy

aeri

plays keys/rhythm guitar depending on the song

songwriter no. 1!! has a pen and notebook wherever she goes

literally the smiliest person ever whenever she’s on stage, honestly just there to have fun with friends and not take things seriously

saw you at a venue one time and practically fell in love

didn’t realise you were in the band after her and fell x2 in love when she sees you play

she has to take 2 shots and steal some of ning’s drink before she even has the courage to talk to you, which is the most absurd thing ever since she’s the most approachable and friendly out of the members

ends up accidentally setting up a jam session with you, freaks out and bolts before you can get her number

you just wanted to see the pretty girl who you couldn’t stop staring at while she played keys earlier

literally her hands on that keyboard !!?!!!!?? her fingers are so long and they can reach like an octave +3-4 keys and goddamn! you can’t help thinking about them in other ways

and when she switches to her guitar you’re like 90% sure you’re gonna marry this girl, your jaw drops at the ease of the way shes barreing chords and back to that long finger thing - she can hit notes like 5-6 frets apart with little movement like that’s crazy

you have to get her number off jimin 😭 who’s ecstatic that her bestie scored someone who doesn’t look completely shady (don’t ask about her dating history)

you text her deets about the jam session and she’s practically squealing to her roommate and minjeong about you

shows up with her keyboard and you play together for awhile

ends in you making out in your basement, shuffling to the couch (putting her fingers to action iykwim)

at concerts she only sees you and makes sure to get you front row tickets all the time

sometimes you play with the band! whenever you do, she makes sure to let everyone at the venue know that you’re hers and she’s yours and it’s all cute and sweet until you’re eye-fucking in the middle of a set and karina has to stand inbetween y’all to get you to focus

you often go on late night road trips (fast food runs) and sing obnoxiously loud along the way, literally, windows down, yelling the lyrics on highways

ends in quiet but loving picnics with your fast food under a tree in a park somewhere while you talk about your latest gigs that the other couldn’t attends

she often takes you home after and lets you sleep at hers, lets you rest your head on her shoulder while she quickly writes down song ideas in her notebook or plays around with her keyboard in her lap before you sleep, half the time you pass out with soft melodies in the background and her voice lulling you to sleep

sometimes you write lyrics together, most of the time they end up being about her

you end up introducing the rest of your band to hers and low and behold, y’all get on really well - turns into planning joint gigs together, hosting parties ect.

minjeong

mj plays lead guitar and sings most of the songs

loooves a solo, getting all the attention of the crowd, practically bathes in their screams

when she gets off stage, it’s all about you though, checking to see whether you liked the songs she chose that night or asking for advice on improv and vocals

but she practices so hard, fingers all bandaged up cause she won’t even stop when they’re bleeding

met you before the band started - you were in the same advanced maths class together

in fact, you’re sorta the reason why she’s in it

your college roommate, aeri was looking for a lead guitarist, and who else would you recommend other than your girlfriend who salivates over this one jackson kelly in the money lent store everytime you walk past

“It’s just so sexy!!” she practically loves that guitar more than you

(you buy it for her as a 3rd anniversary present, making sure to change the strings and polish up the body.)

(she cries.)

you’re often studying in the room when the band has practice, tapping away at problems with the beat of whatever song is playing

you have every lyric memorised, they come quicker to mind than anything you’ve studied for and you’re usually the first one to remember it all - even before minjeong

90% of the time you get distracted by your girlfriend who is insanely hot whenever there’s a guitar in her hands, it’s almost as if she’s another person

the way her fingers slide over the strings, the distortion through the amp sending tingles down your spine, her absolute concentration on the music, getting lost in it all

then when she puts it down she’s all over you, sitting in your lap, playing with your hair, asking you to feed her because she’s just so hungry and her fingers hurt, trying to help with your studying

(she always suggests giving you a kiss every time you remember something correctly, but you know that’ll just turn into a makeup session and ning will throw a drum stick at y’all)

she used to get worried about messing up playing while shes singing, so she sat you down and made you watch while she practised, giving her tips and praise so she doesn’t melt into a puddle and cry whenever she messes up

you have no idea what she’s worried about cause shes literally so good?? Her voice is so strong and clear when shes in the zone, eyes fluttering half-shut, her mouth practically kissing the mic with how close she is to it (you wish you were a microphone.)

most of your date nights situate staying at home and cuddling or watching movies or playing video games but sometimes she finishes band practice all sweaty with her short hair tied back and all you want to do is make her sweatier.

ABSOLUTELY LOVES going to karaoke with you, will literally sing the instrumentals of songs when there are no lyrics - especially the guitar solos

sometimes she takes it super seriously, looking up the song list of the place you regular, picking out the perfect list to cram in the best songs within the time limit

when she’s in this mood she’ll divide up the lines and force you to learn the lyrics of the songs

but 90% of the time she’s chill about it, just loves singing with you no matter what

you ask her to play guitar for you like every other day but she gets shy, bringing up the whole ‘let me play a song for you, babygirl’ ick, worried that you’ll find it cringy and reminding you of the scene from the barbie movie

you have to tell her it doesn’t work that way when you ask her to play for you, and she’s hot enough to get away with it anyway

ends up playing you one of her songs with pink tinted cheeks - for once she isn’t panty-dropping sexy while playing so you get to coo over her

yizhuo

ning’s the drummer of the band, sit with it for a moment

sings a lot of the slower/ballad songs cause she’s bad at multitasking while she’s playing (she just gets too deep into the rhythms and forgets when she’s supposed to sing)

you meet at a music store, you’re one of the employees and she’s sat down with minjeong playing wonderwall on a guitar (shitily mind you, she’s the drummer)

you literally have to stop what you’re doing in the storage room cause no one’s told this ass to stop playing wonderwall yet

when you find her sitting there strumming away as minjeong can’t hold in her snickers, you tell her to shut up or get out and she finishes gracefully with a final strum.

she thinks you’re cute so she asks for your number before she leaves and you do NOT give it to her

she literally comes back weekly just to play annoying songs and ask you out

one time she kept playing the among us imposter theme whenever you walked by and you literally had to yank the guitar out of her hands and push her out of the store

by now you practically seethe in anger whenever she comes in (ning smile sparkles in response)

you would have banned her long ago, but you never work shifts with your manager so they don’t even see this bullshittery happening

one week she doesn’t come, and you weirdly miss her presence, like who else is gonna make your shifts interesting?? surely not johnny in the back who smokes half his shift and is high asf the rest.

the next week she apologised for missing your shift, and shows you that her band has a gig coming up!!

she desperately wants you to come and see her playing an instrument she’s actually good at, so she drops a flier (or 20) on the counter as she leaves (after fucking up the solo in freebird, naturally)

for some reason you go?? it’s not like you have anything better to do that night, plus you’re always down to see and support local bands, you work in a music shop, duh

ngl you think it’s gonna be shit, you’ve never actually seen ning play drums, only shoddy guitar riffs, so you’re 110% confused when she’s not holding a guitar on stage and instead sits at the back with a drum kit surrounding her.

and ning pulls out ALL the stops for you, twirling her sticks when she has the chance, adding in a couple half-time breakdowns and extra fills where there shouldn’t be, quite literally winking at you after a solo.

let’s just say you’re entranced

this little shit who comes into your shop to annoy you with the most basic and overplayed guitar songs, is so hot when she’s behind a drum kit.

when ning finds you after the concert, she asks for your number again and you finally give it to her

when you start dating, she gifts you a set of earplugs so you’re definitely completely and utterly safe from ear damage around her (you consider wearing them even when she’s not playing her drums)

since she’s gotta take her whole kit with her to some of her gigs, she asks you to help her transport it - your car is basically her personal hauler, toting both your gf and her kit from place to place

you don’t mind since its just more time you get to spend with her

teaches you basic drum patterns by letting you sit in her lap, her hands on yours, giggling in your ear whenever you mess up.

none of her groupies ever catch her attention when she has you, she literally ignores everyone whenever you’re in the room, even the other members

they beg and plead for ning to count them in, it’s her job being the drummer and all, but she’s too busy trying to get you to give her a good luck kiss before the song starts

goes out on double dates with rina and her gf, dragging you along to the arcade to win you a stuffie from a claw machine

when you stay overnight and she’s bugging to practise she makes sure to use her electric drum set so that you can sleep better, plugging in her headphones and making as little noise as possible (you still have trouble sleeping since she always gets in a zone and forgets being quiet but its the thought that counts right?)

has this cute little habit of using parts of your body as a kit when you’re cuddling and listening to music

basically just a hyperactive gf who LOOOOOOOOOVES you

note: i think the idea of ning playing the drums is fucking hilarious, especially with that one video of them trying to set up a kit with anderson paak, open the music schools!!!

204 notes · View notes

csainz5 · 11 months

Note

hello! i saw your requests were open and wanted to pop in! i have a bit of a weird? idk request, where it’s like max verstappen x reader first where it ends with angst, and then she ends w carlos endgame?? maybe a whole lotta lover boy feels from carlos and ‘oh i fucked up something great’ feels from max, like essentially carlos that has been silently lining throughout readers relationship w max too?? i’m so sorry if this confused you! i loved ur previous carlos sainz fic!! 🤍🤍

BLOOD FLOWS RED

genre: fluff; light smut

pairing: bestfriend!max x reader; carlos x reader

summary: max constantly fucking up comes in no better time for carlos.

word count: 3.7k (my longest fic so far 💀)

warnings: angst, slight loverboy feels from max if you squint. voyeur max? not really but kinda ig and no beta we die like the ferrari fans we are 🫡 google translate ass spanish, forgive me 😞🫶

author notes: OMG ANON YOU ARE A GENIUS!!! I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. but small change tho, max x reader isn’t rlly like a proper relationship. anyways, hope u guys enjoy 😘😘😘

you were both 10 when you first met. your parents had been friends for a while by then, and they decided that they would place you and max in the same school. the two of you instantly kicked it off. it was like you guys were meant to be friends. you always shared the same opinions, the same preferences and all.

school with max was fun. the best, infact. the both of you hit it off well since the first time you met and had been inseperable (and insufferable) since. it was practically known to everyone that if max were to take a seat, the one beside it instantly belonged to you. you two had different friend circles, yes. But you were definitely each others best friend regardless.

highschool. highschool was a turning point in your friendship. although it was still as magical as it was, max’s attention at that time drifted between girls and racing. the former, burnt your heart with jealousy. everytime he ditched plans with you for his new girlfriend, you secretly prayed to god they would break up so you could have him all to yourself. The latter however, you didnt mind so much. you were always a fan of racing, and it only bought you two closer. you still remember go karting with max like it was yesterday. even if he was always the one to win, you weren’t too far behind, always coming it right after him. your deepest secrets, your highs and lows, your intrests, and everything about you was known to max, and max only. everyone would see you with him all the time, so no guys would ever approach you in school. Its not like you really minded it though, because max’s girlfriends only ever lasted two weeks at the most, and you guys would find your way back to each other.

You found solace in the unwavering friendship you shared with Max . Growing up together, navigating the twists and turns of life side by side, your bond evolved into something deeper over the years. You were always hopelessly in love with Max, but you concealed your feelings, afraid of risking the precious friendship you had cherished oh so much. Everyone but max could see it. I mean how couldnt they? you were always like a lost puppy around the paddock, finding your way to max. Much like your races, you would always find your way right behind him. it was clear in the way you looked at him, with stars in your eyes. How your voice went slightly higher when you were around him. How you relax when you’re with him. How you’re the loudest person during a race, always screaming his name as he raced by. Everyone felt sorry for you, really. Because in return to all of your affections was nothing but a cold and stoic response. Don’t get me wrong, Max definitely loved spending time with you, probably moreso than anyone else, but it was nothing in comparison to your admiration for him.

Afterall, in the world of Formula 1, where speed and competition reigned supreme, there was so space for screw ups. you needed to work hard for what you want and you needed to be cunning. and for max, nothing was as important as winning this year’s championship and more to come, so you’ve become used to his behaviour. he was quick, ruthless and on the top, and he wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of his success. so even though it stung when you could see how little you mattered to him over the sport, you convinced yourself it was okay. Because this was max’s dream since he was little, and whats a wish to date a boy over a pursuit for the championship but a speck of dust.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you watched Max prepare for yet another exhilarating race. Your heart raced in sync with the roaring engines, anticipation filling the air. Deep down, you yearned for Max to realize the depths of your affection, but maybe it was too much to ask for, you think. He was always too caught up in his relentless pursuit of victory. Everyone saw it, even the rugged and striking driver of ferrari, with the number 55 adorned on his red suit.

Max insisted you leave him alone for a moment, so he could gather his thoughts before the race. “Are you sure, max?” “please, just go” reluctantly, you agreed and went into the paddock club. you settle into the couch and wallow to yourself. you just wanted to be there with him so you could calm his nerves, why was he acting unlike himself? you gather that recently this is all thats been happening. you always go behind him, wanting to be with him at all times, hoping to be the centre of his attention, but he stands like a stonewall. you’ve grown tired of it really. But come on, you knew you would find your way back to him again. You were infact in love with him since you knew what love was, weren’t you?

You get startled when a hand waves in front of your face “helloo?” “oh my god im so sorry” “no worries” he shoots you a cheeky smile. “did you need anything carlos?” “nothing, i just wanted to ask if i could sit by you” “yeah ofcourse, you didnt need to ask” honestly, this was the most you’ve ever spoken with carlos, so you were confused by his sudden intrest in you. but really, it wasn’t sudden at all. too absorbed into the grumpy redbull driver, you never noticed a tall figure clad in red lurk behind you two. He had seen it all. His eyes burned with rage everytime he saw you with max. What did he ever do to deserve you?

“Carlos? mate where the hell were you? you need to come to the garage, hurry up” charles says, appearing out of thin air “i’ll see you later, okay?” “Bye sainz” Looking back at you, carlos runs away behind the monagasque. you smile to yourself at the sudden attention from carlos. Atleast he distracted you, right?

yeah right. your nerves were all over the place the second the red lights blinked, and the race began. max was so off his game today, whats wrong with him? he was so far behind this race that even the alfa romeo cars had been ahead of him. it was his first race lately where he was behind a ferrari for once. you felt your heart thump as you wince, you know how much shit redbull & max’s father give him on the offchance that he isnt the best in the game. he didn’t deserve it, you think. he doesn’t deserve the shit they put him through. since this was the start of the season, everyone was very anticipated to see the result, to see who is going to be this years leading drivers.

you catch your eyes drifting towards one specific car though, and its not the redbull one you’ve always got your eyes on. the person leading the first race of the season happens to be the man that youve last talked to. carlos. you hold your breath, and blink for just a moment and there you see it, carlos gets the pole position. you dont know whether to be happy or not, a feeling you’re unfamiliar with makes your gut twinge. were you happy with the results? as much as you’d like to convince yourself otherwise, it was true. for some reason carlos winning made you feel proud, but in a split second you turn your eyes back to the circuit. max had gotten p7.

it was the night of that day that max had seen you under a different light. your look for the party had caught the eyes of everyone there, and unfortunately for max, even the eyes of a certain latino were set on you. Carlos was the first person you noticed the moment you stepped into the club. the ferrari pair had rented out the entire club for that night, celebrating their p1 & p2 standings. you instinctively go towards Carlos, talking him up about his big win. “Sainz, that overtake on lap 35? Blew my mind.” “you must’ve been attentive on me to catch that” he jokes, his chest rumbling with laughter. “oh come on everyone’s talking about it” “maybe. but so are you, and thats not very common” “I give credit where credit is due, what can i say?” you giggle, taking a flute of champagne. “hey, how come you aren’t with max? i ask only because this is the first time you’ve come outside that circle” he asks, slightly avoiding eye contact with you. “well, i guess you could say i just found someone more worthy of my time” “Oh..?” clearly amused with your answer, carlos decided that he’s not going to let you leave his side. He had a taste of it, and he knew he couldn’t let go just yet.

2 drinks become 4, and 4 drinks become 8 when you decide that you are done being the quiet girl behind max. you think that it’s time that you let go, live the moment for yourself, and yourself only. okay, and maybe Carlos too. conversations with him were just so light and breezy, you didnt have to hold yourself back hoping you’d be molded into the kind of girl he wants. it was obvious that he was interested in you as is. “Carlos” “yes, cariño?” “How come ive never spoken to you before?” “You know, actually you have” he wasn’t wrong, but that was just small talk at events. This? This was different. you knew it. He knew it. “No, no i mean like.. this” you say, speech slurred, hand reaching to brush his hair. “You’re driving me crazy, mi vida” he chokes out, eyes closed and a sigh escaping his lips. “Carlos..” you feel like you cant breath as you say, “Help me forget him” by this point of your conversation you had realised that he did, infact notice things about you. Maybe even in a way no one else did. you raise your eyes to meet his and you lose yourself in their charm. his brown eyes with specks of gold drew you in more than you’d like to admit. “Hermosa, when you have me,” he raises your chin up “You will be sober when you have me, and you wont be forgetting it any time soon”wind gets caught up in your throat at his bold statement.

“Come on, let loose carlos join me!!” by this point it was the alcohol talking, not you. “okay okay how about we get you home now?” “oh shut up im just getting started” “no you’re not, come with me” carlos says as he throws your arm around his shoulder to support you. “fuck, is she okay man? i can take her to her house just leave her with me” max say’s, finally emerging after eyeing you both all night. “don’t hold your breath mate, she’s going home with me”

you wake up the next morning with the worst headache, which only gets worse when you realise you can’t recognise the room you’re in and the clothes you’re wearing aren’t yours. you shoot your head up as you hear the door open. Carlos? wait a second. did you and he..? “Carlos, did we—“ “Did you want us to?” “Oh my god. OH MY GOD??” “Calm down im just messing with you, no we didn’t do anything. i just had to change your clothes because you puked all over them” this was so embarrassing you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“im so sorry, i really am. i didnt think i would let go that much yesterday.” “Don’t worry, i had fun. plus its nice seeing you not be so timid” your cheeks flush at his compliment. Fuck. i abandoned max yesterday, you thought, booking a cab to his house as you pack your stuff. “Youre not seriously booking a cab right now, are you?” “Not all of us come from Generational wealth, Carlos” you say, hoping you get connected to a driver as soon as possible. “No, no. you’re coming with me.” he says, taking his car keys and showing you the way to the garage. The moment you arrive at max’s house, you see an unfamiliar pair of heels by his shoes.

you knock on the door “Max?” No answer.“Max??” no answer yet again. you use your keys to open the door. “I didn’t expect you to come at this time” he says, his hand over a girl who you barely recognise’s shoulder. “Who’s this, max?” “It doesn’t matter, she was just about to leave” the woman looks confused but exits, mumbling something to max as she leaves. “Whos that, your conquest of the week?” you ask the second you hear the door click. “Why do you care? you must’ve had fun whoring out with the ferrari boys yesterday anyways.” He didnt mean for it to sound as harsh as it did, but what was done was done. Seriously? “Fuck you max. i’ve always been with you every second of every day and you don’t appreciate me for a moment. you constantly ditch me for these random fucking girls who you know are just with you because you’re in redbull. And i let myself go for one night. One fucking night and you’re on my back calling me a whore? you know what? i am tired. i am done with your bullshit. Maybe ferrari is better after all, huh?”

“You don’t understand my point” “what point max? what fucking point? Are you blind or do you just convince yourself to ignore the fact that ive been in love with you since we started talking? Do you know how much it hurt me to walk in your shadow all these years hoping you would notice that i was there for you? to notice that i was the one for you?” “You love me?” he sounds heartbroken saying it, but you’re on an adrenaline rush and don’t take note of it. you could feel your feelings for him fading more and more as you spoke your feelings out to max. “No. not anymore.” “Fuck. i never- i never thought, fuck.” “guess you just realised it too late mate” a voice speaks up behind you. “Lets go back, i cant stand to see his face.” you spit, with venom lacing your words as they sunk into max’s heart like a dagger.

After the incident with max, You realised that the night with the ferrari driver would be the start of something much, much bigger than you had expected. somewhere in between the races the 33 on your shirts slowly turned into 55. You didnt have to tell max you’ve moved on, it was clear as day. Carlos had gifted you a bracelet, a custom cartier one with the initials c.s adorned by a small pendant of a chili. everyone on the paddock could see that max was history to you. By this point it was also famously known that you had become Carlos’s girl. you didn’t mind the chatter though, you were so happy with carlos, he made you feel things that no one had been able to make you feel. he was gentle, and understanding. But at the same time, he knew exactly how to treat you, and the fact that you liked to be treated a little rough, once in a while, and he played it like a charm.

Your situationship with him was quick to blossom into a relationship, the best one you’ve ever been in. Days with Carlos were magical. he was crazy for you, as were you for him. you were so used to people stepping all over you that carlos treating you the way you deserved to be treated caught you off gaurd at times, but you grew attached to that quality of him. he made sure that he was the best man for you, and that you were treated exactly how you deserved to be. you noticed that you didnt even ask him for anything, he miraculously knew exactly what you wanted, and he delivered seamlessly. You had drifted significantly from max, but you didn’t mind anymore. Carlos was the only one for you and there were no doubts about it.

This particular morning was that of the emilia- romagnia grand prix, with you by the ferrari garage with carlos. everyone there had become used to you at this point, charles and some of the engineers becoming some of your best mates. Right now you were in carlos’s room, sitting on the bed as you watched him get ready. it was a home race for the ferrari boys. “What?” carlos talks over the phone, clearly upset with whatever he’s heard. you sit up straighter at his sudden change in demeanour. “Fuck. guess there’s nothing we can do huh?” he says, moments before he hangs up. “It’s canceled. the race is canceled because of a flood.” “What? Im so sorry to hear that Carlos, i know how much this race means to you.” you say, walking up to him and fixing up his shirt.

“Is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” memories of that night rush back into your head. you take in a sharp breath remember what carlos told you that day. “I’m sober now” “You remember that?” he looks into your eyes, his own shifting into a darker look. “I couldn’t for a moment forget it” you pull his collar in towards yourself “you little minx, me estás matando” “Lets see if you’re a man of your word, sainz” you dare to say. “you’re gonna wish you never challenged me, hermosa.”

His lips crash against yours as he pulls you up to jump onto him, legs wrapped around him as you take him in, in all his glory. your brain becomes foggy, and a thousand diffrent scenarios run around your head and at once, the all stop, Leaving your head a blank space. you run your hands through his hair, breathless. he walks you both over to the bed, his lips never leaving yours as unsaid words get conveyed to you. i want you. he gently places you on the bed, getting onto his knees.

You pull away from him for a moment, just a moment. you needed to get comfortable into the bed, and even the split second away from him makes you grow impatient. you look down to see him frantically trying to pull your shorts off you. Frustrated, you pull him by his neck back to you, kissing him with a rush you’ve never experienced before. you close your eyes, his wandering hands feeling making you feel sensitive all over. even a harmless rub against your thigh ticks you off. the whimper youve been suppressing comes out into the kiss, making Carlos feel as though he was losing his mind. he couldn’t take it anymore. he wanted you, he wanted you so badly he felt like a teenager about to cum in his pants.

All you wanted was to scream his name, loud enough for the entire hotel to hear, and he, wanted to listen to them on repeat like they were the best musical piece ever created. he was drunk on lust. “Can i?” you nod with all your might, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “Use your words, mi amor” “Yes, yes. please i want it so bad carlos, please.” “God, you sound so angelic begging for me right now.” Just as he was about to take off his top, the two of you hear a series of knocks on your door.

“Are you in here? its max” “Why is he here?” just as you were about to cuss him out, carlos signals you that hes got it covered. He picks you up, making you put your legs over his torso again. “Carlos? what are you-“ he shushes you, a finger falling over your swollen lips. just as you reach the room door, he clashes his lip’s against yours again. he slowly takes off the lock on the door, leaving max to think he can come in.

max is greeted by the two of you feverishly making out as he opens the door. you and carlos pay him no mind though, as if you couldn’t even see him. “Fuck you guys” He shouts as he bangs the door on his way out.

1K notes · View notes

shinjisdone · 1 year

Text

When you have an Secret Admirer - and it's not them (Pomefiore; 5)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it.

'I've kept writing you about the things that you did that enchanted me...but without wanting to sound cliché, I also fell for your beauty...'

form of headcanons + scenario-ish

[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]

Part 1: Heartslabyul

Part 2: Savanaclaw

Part 3: Octavinelle

Part 4: Scarabia

Part 6: Ignihyde

Part 7: Diasomnia

It's best if you stay in your room for a few days, you thought.

After faking feigning an injury after the...flower fruit fiasco to Crowley (and him letting out a speech of how gracious he is for allowing you to rest) you've let everyone know that you needed quiet. And. Silence. Even Grim left you alone.

It was calming in a way. Just you and your thoughts, as well as the four love letters lying on the desk. Until a little ring caught your attention and you opened up a message on your phone.

Letting the image sink in it was a photo of a frustrated Vil with his make-up smudged.

'guy is taking the piss hahah' - Epel wrote you.

'What's in front of him?'

You couldn't help it. The curiousity took the best of you, especially when the Vil Schönheit looked this laughably angry.

'someone won a magic mirror on an auction and its messin with everyone. says it shows everyones real beauty when looked at but it shows nothin when we stare at it. no reflec tion and its makin Vil angrier than squirrel with a nut that dont crack lololol'

The boy sent you another image and it was of Rook trying to calm Vil down, who attempted to get the mirror out of the dorm. It made you chortle.

'lol why care about some phony mirror when Pomefiore is filled with real ones'

'I can update u (Name) if you want. Funniest thing that happens in this dully stuck up place'

Epel's comment made you smile. Even when he can get a bit temperamental, which you can't blame him for since he has to live with Vil, the boy does try to cheer you up. He must have heard of everything by now and even if he didn't, Deuce probably told him of your mood. It was sweet of him.

'Sure, might be fun to watch'.

Perhaps you shouldn't have answered like that.

Epel Felmier

Epel is no idiot.

He's aware of how you must be feeling so he tries to be seldom with his calls and presence. If it weren't for all the things that had happened this month for him notice, then it was Deuce's unusual worried frown.

He was so...quiet. Almost looking depressed when he told Epel of the first letter. He tried with effort to explain what had happened but ended up unwittingly admitting his displeasure at the change. He seemed to miss you and you've become reversed yourself. It was a bit of a bummer.

Epel tried hard to play it cool. Although behind closed doors, he'd mumble profanities in the usual accent he'd hide. These rumors were true. Big, richy colleges are full of drama, just like his village said! Why do things gotta be so unnecessarily complicated??? It doesn't make any sense to him.

Epel wouldn't bat an eye at gestures of love and grand confessions (he feels still perplexed though) but all of this was for you. It was no happenstance like usual, no, you aren't just being involved due to coincidence - all of this is happening because of you and for you.

What are ya, a princess waitin' for a knight in yer tower??? It's just????

Less upset and more puzzled. But he wouldn't know how to deal with that either.

Nevertheless, he convinced you to leave your room for a while after school hours...just a small visit that shouldn't take too long...

Rook Hunt

Oh, la la~

This is quite exciting for him. Love letters and confessions are things ususally told in fairytales, so seeing all of this unfold in this very school is quite the entertainment and Rook wants to be seated at the number #1 spot to witness it.

It's less of a creepy reason and more one of fascination. This is a one-in-a-lifetime chance and he always loved romance! He wants to see what this secret admirer is capable of. What they are ready to do for love.

Although he feels...disadvantaged? Challenged? Is it rivalry? Jealousy or true fascination?

As a hunter himself, he should know best how to capture hearts yet he feels like a freshly-born scholar looking up to his teacher. And out of all hearts they are attempting to capture it is yours...

Love can hurt...but it isn't supposed to make you uncomfortable, no?

Ever since he heard the rumors - and especially after he found out they are true - he has kept an eye on you. Without your knowledge of course...

Is the hunter learning...or keeping his prey for himself?

Vil Schönheit

The fairest of them all is a bit distracted, you see.

Aside from this wretched mirror, the senior could barely believe that out of all people...you get love letters.

However, with Leona's sudden interest in anything really and Kalim's lack of cheerfulness, things have become odd - now having rumors be confirmed by Azul (he was a witness!), Vil must believe it.

Even Epel is more on his phone than ever...

Vil isn't...apalled by the idea of you getting attention. He is just the one who usually gets it! But none of his fans' determination compare to that of your admirer. It's strange.

...Thats what he deduces first. Then it becomes ridiculous at the realization of it! You??? Getting more attention than Vil???

Do not misunderstand, Vil is not excluding the possibility of you having a secret admirer but the amount they are doing for you even leaves him a bit stumped.

He isn't sure if he should congratulate you or give into his jealousy. Jealousy of you getting more attention or your attention being snatched away from him? He isn't quite certain of it either.

It's better to distract himself with some puny mirror than keep on pondering about it.

Discreetly making your way to Pomefiore, you swiftly passed by other students, ones who had long started to avoid you. It was believed that your presence alone even summons the secret admirer...so some would take shelter from their strange pranks by getting out of your way. Sure, there were some who showed sympathy, asking about your well-being or even joking when that admirer will finally capture your heart...or if they have already.

Admittedly, you did not feel like meeting either of these kinds of guys...thankfully Epel picked you up quickly, either using his shy mask or temperamental yells to get you out of any situation - and soon, you found yourself in front of that mirror. Just as Epel stopped snickering as he showed you more photos, his head would turn to you and back to that mirror...with a surprisingly soft stutter, he pointed to it.

"Er...it ain't a phony, after all..."

...Why were you able to see yourself?

'...The one who can see themselves here is the true beauty of this school.'

Epel Felmier

Uh, what???

Why are ya able to see yourself in every angle possible? How come the background changed to every possible scenery that suited you so perfectly? With you standing out so marvy too???

That can't be it...is that seriously one of those infamous 'pranks' of that secret admirer everyone's been prattlin' about?

...Your secret admirer?

That can't be it. The (Name) he knows couldn't...have something like that...but it's true.

As Epel watches your face bloom like a magnolia in May, he finally understood Deuce's troubles deeply. It's one thing to hear it from someone on the surface and something completely different when you feel it deep in your soul too.

The boy stood there, as his yelling on what kind of phony mirror that could be transformed into mumbles until he was completely silent. His face scrunched up into a frown.

You look real pretty. He now thinks how you've always been real fine and fair but your reflection seemed so picturesque right now...all because of the darn, stupid smile on your face that you couldn't just wipe away, no matter how hard ya tried.

Damnit...what is this feeling?! How's he gonna get rid of it?!?!

Even as he wonders how others are gonna be up on your case again, the sweet lil' apple grew sour as he also wondered how much that admirer person was making you all happy and gushy now...

Rook Hunt

And here in comes Rook.

Rather, he had been watching you enter so elegantly and now admire yourself in that fancy mirror! He knew something was up with it and spying on Epel's messages, it was only a matter of time before your lovely self would find out about it!

The young man long knew that this 'auction win' was something from the secret admirer - with how they always end up involving whole dorms in their quest to win your heart. Rook has quite the keen eye himself...

Oh, he needs to be there and witness it himself! How exciting! What kind of creative confession will pop up this time?! How will you react?! It's all just trés bien!

Less worried about the consequences that may follow his dorm and more intruiged on how this pursue of love will continue. A true fairytale!

That's what he keeps telling himself.

Rook is torn between watching a beautiful love story unfold before him and being very displeased at the fact that someone else is trying to capture your heart.

How...unfair it all seemed.

But all is fair in love and war, no?

Shall he listen and learn from the admirer? To outwit them in every way and capture your heart himself? Maybe he should show them that this is his hunt and that they shouldn't mess with him.

Regardless, he's hiding it all too well behind a smile. Even as you hide your beautiful face bashfully and Epel trying to keep himself together and not stare at the scenery in front of him too hard and not for too long...

Yes, he'll stay back, like a real hunter.

Vil Schönheit

He hears the noise downstairs and wow, speak of the devil. Or rather when he thought of the devil. You just wouldn't leave his mind.

There you are with little messages starting to pop up in the mirror you were staring at...

'I wanted to have you see all the beautiful things about you when reading my thoughts about you...so you can believe me and witness them yourself in the moment.'

Vil raises a brow as your lovely reflection was overwritten by a dainty message, curvy and in red.

'You don't know how wonderful you look with a smile. It made me fall for you.'

And on cue, a bashful smile appeared on your face.

Vil, as well as Epel and Rook, jumped as they saw the many flowery poems of love spread around your reflection. It almost rivaled Rook's grossly exeggerated compliments.

"Now, now," Vil tries to stay calm as he shushed the mirror and tried to find out what the meaning of this is and by the Sevens, don't let it be the secret admirer. No, no, no, no! He keeps on shooing this...thing away, even if it can't really move.

Or...it can?

The mirror shrunk in size and used it's little attached wings ("WEREN'T THOSE DECORATIONS" - Everybody thinks) to gracefully flutter after you.

Is this some kIND OF TWISTED JOKE

FIRST THE ALCHEMY NOTES, THEN THE MAGIC FLOWERS AND NOW A FLYING MIRROR THROWING POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS AT YOU

This secret admirer must be some kind of prodigy...

Does Vil not even stand a chance...?

He's confused and irritated. Not ever did he think things would come to this but seeing how someone actually has eyes for his numbre #1 potato sends the senior into slight panic.

This isn't like him.

But the turmoil in his heart is all so real and vivid...as is his determination to not let you be swooned over by anyone but him.

[yeah, I kinda feel like the vibe got from 'tralala oh a secret admirer? classic at a school like this how cute :)' to 'WHO TF...!? WHY U HAVING CRUSH ON MY CRUSH STOP IT' Hopefully this one is just as good as the other ones...dont feel like it does. You see, Vinland Saga...might have a chokehold on me :) ]

[If you get the 'IS THIS SOME KIND OF TWISTED JOKE' joke then u r really cool :) The fluttering, positive affirmation mirror just popped up as I wrote...and I had more ideas for Rook than anyone else. Would feel like Vil would be even worse with that what he had with Neige...even after his overblot, he just gives these vibes. Epel is just...r u kidding me. how am i supposed to be okay with that]

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst scenarios #secret admirer #pomefiore #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twst x reader #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral reader #reader insert #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons

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gingiekittycat · 4 months

Text

I miss the narrator

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I miss the narrator from Good Omens season 1.

I will admit, when I first watched the show it threw me a bit. Sure, the narrator's jokes were funny, but I thought that as a story-telling device it was distracting. There was just so much of it all the time, and it often felt out of place. And when I went to look up reviews online, it seemed a lot of people agreed: if there ever was a season 2, the narrator had to go.

But THEN.

THEN.

Then I read the book.

And I realized: the narrator is the footnotes. It's the little jokes in between the plot. In descriptions, in metaphors, in transitions. The narrator is what makes the magic of the novel.

The narrator is the authors.

More specifically, the narrator is Terry.

Terry's influence on the novel, on the story; Terry's influence in the way he and Neil wrote the book. Neil has said before somewhere (I will find the source eventually and add it) that he was writing in Terry's style when he co-wrote the novel. And it shows; to me, when I read Good Omens, I was reading a Terry Pratchett novel. At the time, I had no previous experience with reading Terry's work, and the only novel I'd read of Neil's was American Gods. And in my opinion, Good Omens reads nothing like American Gods.

In subsequently reading more of Terry's work, it became even clearer to me that the narrator in the show was Neil's way of keeping Terry in the story. And maybe it WAS clunky in a visual medium, maybe it WAS distracting, jarring. But it was also hilarious, and whimsical, and playful, and fun. And I don't see how Neil could have done without it and still stayed so true to the novel. The jokes, the metaphors, the descriptions, the footnotes; this is what makes Good Omens what it is.

There was no narrator in season 2.

I will say up front that, overall, I enjoyed season 2. It had so many funny moments, and so many thought-provoking, poignant moments too. It used some dialog from the first book (looking at you Resurrectionists minisode) to remind us why Good Omens is not just a romp between an angel and demon, but also a philosophical, thought-provoking piece of media. It had a lot of Pratchett-esque moments; the Job minisode stood out to me here. The end was, of course, emotional and gutting, but I like emotional and gutting (anyone who has read my fics knows this). But... I found myself missing the narrator.

I missed Terry.

And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was even on purpose. Maybe the lack of narrator really is illustrating the fact that, when Terry died, he left a hole in the world that can never be filled. You can't make the same show you would have made had Terry been alive. You can't even try. You can make your own thing, you can make it amazing in its own right, but you can't make it the same. And, all said and done, I think that's a very important commentary on grief. When you lose something, or someone, you're not the same as you were before; and it hurts, but you change, you adapt, you grow. Eventually, you make something new.

So... do I want there to be a narrator in season 3?

That's a good question. I think I would accept both outcomes. However, knowing that season 3 is supposed to be the sequel Neil and Terry plotted, I think it would be appropriate to have a narrator this time around. True, we have no novel to base it off of; we don't have any of Terry's footnotes, his metaphors, his jokes. But we have Neil, whom Terry influenced while writing the original novel; we have Neil writing in Terry's style, putting himself in Terry's shoes for a moment (his hat, his scarf). We have Neil, who loved Terry, who has in part made this show as a labor of love, because he promised Terry he would, and he's going to keep that promise. We have Neil to remind us why we love Good Omens in the first place.

And I think having a narrator in season 3 would be a wonderful way to illustrate that.

#By the way #If you are a fan of the show and haven't yet read the book #Please do yourself a favor and go read it immediately #Good omens #Good omens 2 #Good omens 3 #good omens 3 speculation #Neil gaiman #Terry Pratchett #Good omens narrator #My 2 cents #Good omens meta #My meta

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bbyblair · 8 months

Text

small touches pink cheeks, pt.3

charles leclerc x f!reader

pt.1 pt.2

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: part 3! ;) I'm so glad people are enjoying this series, its so fun to write so ty to you all!

summary: the start of the 2023 season, Bahrain in early march. you'd recently joined the sky team, working as a news reporter and interviewer for your beloved sport.it's your first week and a mix of nerves and anticipation swirl together in your stomach. you're giddy to finally meet who you’d be working with for the next few months… but what happens when an instant connection sparks up between the new girl and Ferrari's golden boy?

warnings: some cursing nothing crazy! just tensionnnn ugh slow burns ;)

word count: 2.4k

friday 3rd march, 2023.

after returning to your hotel room, the sun had already set and the moonlight was the only thing currently illuminating you as you stood there. thinking about what had just happened in the small timeframe you were at work. on your first day. you sat down onto the bed and sighed. its not like you weren't flattered that the world famous charles leclerc was, well what you thought, flirting with you. and of course he was undeniably handsome, yet having only just met there was something in the way he looked at you, which you had never seen before. and it made an odd feeling rise up in your stomach when you thought about it.

to try to get your mind off it, you started getting ready for bed. taking a nice warm shower and then doing all your skincare. your hotel was very nice, clearly the company you worked for had splurged out in hospitality for their employees and you were very thankful for it. with a small sigh you collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the day that you'd just had.

lying in bed you decide to check some of your socials, to see what some of your friends from uni and school were up to. you only told your closest friends about your job when you first applied, afraid that somehow you might jinx it. a small befell your lips at how much has changed in a matter of months.

clicking onto instagram you notice you had a new follower, your instagram was public but you didn't have many followers anyways, only people who knew you closely followed you, so you were a little surprised. you definitely didn't expect this.

new notification- charles leclerc started following you.

your mouth dropped open in pure shock. how did he find you? when you introduced you only gave your first name, there was nothing else that said your full name. during both of your interactions with charles your name badge was shoved into your bag. with wide eyes you clicked onto his profile. fuck, of course you were already following him. before you began your new job you immediately followed every single driver on the grid, it was your job of course to know all of the gossip.

a small groan escaped your lips and you shook your head. he clearly had asked about you, how else did he find your instagram? jesus, this guy really isn't giving up. you weren't going to deny having a man like charles practically stalk you was flattering, but also added to your annoyance!

you only had a handful of posts on your instagram, most of them were you with our friends. a few of you by the beach somewhere, in a cute little bikini. of course you looked great. it was your second recent photo which caught your eye, you remembered the memory with a smile. it was a slideshow of pictures with you and your best friend luke, you two were both pretty drunk and did a small makeshift photoshoot in his apartment. you had also posted the pictures that same night, and boy did you look good. wearing a little dress that skimmed over the top of your thighs, the moonlight bounced delicately across your skin, accentuating your curves in the best way.

the first photo on the slideshow however was a picture of you and luke together, a selfie taken by you. your hand holding up the phone above you both, so you could see his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, you were smiling and pressing a friendly drunken kiss on his neck, while he laughed. looking back, the photo did really look like you two were a couple, but you knew that wasn't the case. he was one of your closest mates, and things never went further than that between you both, due to mutual respect for the friendship.

today you saw how possessive and jealous charles could get, if he had seen these pictures then you were a little terrified for tomorrow. he would obviously bombard you with questions and you were definitely not looking forward to it. with a dramatic sigh you rolled over to your side, placing your phone onto the table beside you and attempted to fall asleep.

saturday 4th march 2023 - qualifying day.

you awoke with your alarm blaring into your ear, and a pit in your stomach. of course you were excited to witness the first qualifying of the season, and your career. but there was someone you were hoping to avoid. hopefully today you would meet the rest of the drivers, and could be preoccupied by them and their quali results.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

you arrived at the circuit with a smile on your face. you were determined to make a great impression to the rest of the drivers and prove that you were smart, qualified, and not in this business just for the ‘good looking’ drivers. you had on a pretty outfit, which made your confidence levels skyrocket, aiding you in setting a good first impression. light wash denim jeans hugged your body perfectly, with a little flare at the bottom and two red stars on the butt. red boots underneath tying in with the red stars on your jeans, and a pretty white top to tie it all together. maybe your outfit was a bit much for work, but this was the first race of the season, and you had to come in with a bang.

the circuit was even more packed than yesterday, fans eager to see where their drivers would end up on the grid. after pushing through the swarm of people you finally arrived into the sky hq, greeting everyone warmly you then sat down. your boss, then comes up to you, greeting you with a small polite smile and hands you a folder. he perches against your desk.

“morning y/n, amelie is going to be doing the post quali interviews today, i was hoping you could tag along with her after you finish some paperwork.” he motions down at the folder now in your hands.

“sure thing!” you reply back enthusiastically, a large smile on your face.

“good, and also great work with the ferrari drivers yesterday, i've had some great feedback from them, all good things!” he chuckles and then began walking alway to greet the other employees. so, charles has been talking about you. god, it's been one day. Rubbing your hands over your face to snap back into work mode, you then began working through the excessive amounts of paper from the folder.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

you were finally done, it was around 12pm so you and amelie decided to go grab some food. there was still another few hours till qualifying, as it's in the evening today. after grabbing your begs you exit the small office and are hit with the warm days heat. you close your eyes for a moment, basking in how nice the heat feels on your face.

“okay, so you've only met the two ferrari guys, so i was thinking i could introduce you to some more of the grid? so you are more familiar during interviews?”her works quickly snapped you out of your relaxed state as you listened in cautiously. you were excited to meet some other drivers, you just hoped that charles wasn't around when you did. in the way she spoke you knew she wasn't really asking you, she was going to make you go either way.

“that sounds like a good idea.” you replied softly with a smile.

“perfect let's go, most of them just hang around their own hospitality areas, but if they're good friends they may be sitting together.” she explained, and you listened, nodding your head. she started walking down the paddock, first we passed the mercedes hospitality, but neither george nor lewis could be found.

“most likely they are having a meeting, or lewis is in his trailer.” she explained.

you simply hummed in agreement, your journey through the grid continued as you two walked by the red bull hospitality. you noticed max first, a group of men around him. they were all sitting at a table. then you clocked who they all were. max, charles, carlos, pierre, lando and daniel. they were all wearing their team's shirts paired with some jeans or simple trousers. they were all sitting outside due to the warm temperature, laughing at a joke one of them had said. you didnt realise they were all good enough friends to be able to sit and chat together. they hadn't noticed you and amelie at first, although you were sure if charles back wasn't facing you he would have spotted you instantly.

“jackpot!” amelie whisper shouted and motioned for you to follow her. you stay in your spot. suddenly feeling extremely nervous.

“you know i'm not feeling too good actually, i think i need to sit down. you go ahead.” she looks at you like you'd just kicked a puppy. eyebrows shooting up her forehead.

“no! come on it'll be quick, just introduce yourself, they are all so lovely i promise!” she's still lightly holding your arm and sending you a reassuring smile. yet you really didn't want to face charles right now.

“honestly amelie, its okay. i can meet them all later.” you spoke a little louder than anticipated, your words all rushing out at once. clearly one of the drivers had heard the commotion behind them because their conversation had also died down, and you could feel their eyes on you both. fuck.

before you could make any move to leaves, amelie turns around and smiles at the drivers politely. and lets go of your hand, which she was practically pulling you with. before either of you could speak max send you a smile and nods at you both. you were scared to even look in charles direction, so you quickly angled your eyes to the floor.

“amelie, y/n. how are you both?” max says, he then motions with his hand for you two to come over to the table.

“y/n is the new reporter for this season. she's going to be working very closely with the different teams, so you'll probably be seeing her a lot!.” max explains to the group. you nod shyly and then all of the men start introducing themselves one by one. politely extending out their hands for you to shake.

carlos smiles up at you and sends you a knowing nod, as you had already met. “good to see you again y/n”

“you too carlos.” you reply politely.

charles didn't say anything though. his eyes simply trained on you, you finally built up enough courage to look at him. he didn't smile this time. his eyes dark and piercing into you. the tension between you both was obvious to the rest of the group and amelie, who thankfully awkwardly cleared her throat and began talking.

“okay, we're off to grab some lunch, good luck for qualifying! great seeing you!” amelie says, a warm smile on her face, and you can tell why she is really great at her job.

the group of drivers all mumble out polite replies, and some small waves go around the group. all except charles. he sat there, arms crossed and a somewhat angry expression on his face. eyes switching between you, or the group of his friends. he'd been watching how they reacted when they saw you, and the way they looked at you. a pit of jealousy had formed deep in his stomach.

“good luck.” you smiled out, trying to maintain a polite expression on your face. as you both begin to walk away, you hear a deep familiar voice behind you. charles. he calls your name again. you pause, then quickly turn around, not wanting to appear rude or give an unpleasant impression to the drivers.

“could I speak with you? just for a moment.” he informs you. fuck, well you couldnt exactly say no.

“sure.” you indulge him, but your voice comes out a little snappy and annoyed. the group of drivers exchange some confused looks, and amelie awkwardly wavers behind, before informing you she'd meet you by the coffee stand, you send her a smile and reassuring nod and she's off.

charles begins walking through the paddock, and you awkwardly trail behind him. the tension filled silence just fuels your nerves even more, so you feel like you must say something before you explode.

“char-” before you could even finish his name he stopped you. and you then suddenly realised he'd stopped walking and you were both standing by his driver's room. another wave of nerves floods over your body. you know for sure you're not going in there with him.

he spoke your name, and it broke you out of your panicked train of thought. you look up at him but stay silent. awaiting what he has to say.

“i am sorry, if i've…” he pauses for a few moments as if he's searching for a good way to phrase what he's about to say. you're just shocked that he's about to apologise for something.

“if i've given you the wrong impression or anything. you have a boyfriend and I have a girlfriend.” another pause, and as he says those words you can tell that his ‘apology’ is half assed and clearly not how he truly feels.

“yesterday was a stressful day, so i am again sorry if i behaved rudely.” his eyes were trained to your face while he spoke, attempting to catch your eye but you were purposefully avoiding his gaze. his words annoy you even more. why is he apologising now? what after he thinks you have a boyfriend then he backs off? does he actually think i believe him?

“well thank you for your apology i guess.” you reply. trying to switch this conversation so you have the upper side. “but I don't have a boyfriend, and even if I did that wouldn't be my reason for staying away from you” with that you send him another sly smile and begin to walk away. feeling somewhat triumphant over what you've done. yet suddenly a hand wraps tightly around your wrist and pulls you back. your body slamming against his, his breath tickled against your ear as you hear his slow melodic breathing.

“it's rude to leave when the conversation is not finished. ma belle” my beautiful.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

pt.4? ;0

tagged: @buendiabebeta @summerslike11 @fanboyluvr @elijahmikaelsonbitch @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @gaslysainz @hanniesdawn @erikasurfer @driveswiftly13 @tempo-rary-fix

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #angst #fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #light angst #x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #charles leclerc f1 #female reader

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 11 months

Text

gevivys (beauty) │ Chapter 3: Delight

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Daemon returns to King's Landing after ten years in exile, intent on rekindling his affair with Rhaenyra. He wasn't expecting you - the revelation changes everything.

Welcome to the third chapter of my rework - this one is completely new! Never-seen-before content! Smut galore! YAYYYYY! I do hope you’ll enjoy. Daemon-centric thought POVs are always fun as hell to write, and it’s super interesting going back to this stage of the story. Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs, my slap daddy Ange, for reading through this chapter for me and making sure I’m not uploading total shite!

TRIGGERS: objectification of women, derogatory discussion of poverty, derogatory views of sex work. (Daemon is a yuck man!)

“Three cheers for the Prince!”

“Hear, hear!”

“Cheers!”

“And let his return bring coppers and silvers aplenty to the streets of Flea Bottom!”

“Aye!”

Daemon smirks obligingly at the congregated carousers as they lift their tankards in honour of him, ale-soused faces grinning haplessly throughout the dilapidated tavern. The Maiden’s Teats had once been a favourite of his in his youth, ramshackle and poorly lit and smelling always of piss as it did. And still does, he thinks distastefully. Looking around, he finds it peculiar that he’d had such an affinity for the place. There’s no accounting for the tastes of a young man. But no longer could he abide remaining in such close quarters with the source of his turmoil. What—or who—that is, he cannot say.

“Let us begin right now!” he yells over the din, standing on the wooden frame affixing the stool’s legs together. It bows ominously under his weight, but he supposes the fall would be a trifling matter if it should break. “Ale for every man here! A gift from your Prince to mark the occasion.”

Loud shouts and praises ring through the space as he passes a pouch of coin across to the alewife. He notes from the corner of his eye that she tugs her tunic down to expose her tits just a little more—any further and they’ll pop free of the neckline entirely—though he has no interest in fucking the innkeeper’s wife. Too much trouble.

A hand claps against his back, jolting him into the present. “My Prince! Welcome back!”

Daemon laughs. “Arric Dargood! Still infesting this city with your filth, are you?”

“You know me!” Dargood says, dragging him to a quieter corner as he speaks. “When there’s cheap ale and cheaper whores, you can’t get rid of me!”

Ah, good old Dargood. The third son of an already insignificant House, the man hadn’t much by way of prospects. In some ways, Daemon could commiserate—they had both turned to the sword to distinguish themselves from the rabble, becoming formidable in combat irrespective of their noble names. What luck it was to have been appointed to the City Watch at the same time! As one of the captains under his control, Dargood had rather quickly become one of his most esteemed companions. A rare sight it was to see Daemon Targaryen roaming the slums of King’s Landing without Dargood in his circle of cronies. And yet, while he might profess himself to have matured somewhat over the years, it seems the same cannot be said of Dargood.

Settling down upon the seat to which he is ushered, he partakes in the gaiety of his fellow libertines, an assemblage of persons known and unknown. Some faces are familiar, like the gold cloaks still in uniform that he recalls from his own days as their Commander; and some are fresh, from youths newly raised to notoriety to older men with a certain savagery to their disposition no doubt its own invitation to the table. Conversation flows as easily as the drink does, the men gathered sharing tales of just how little has changed in his absence.

“We even use the same route on patrols!” Steffon Hollard giggles madly. It is clear the ale has overtaken his faculties more than most present. “Ten bloody years, an’ nuffin’s changed thereabouts!”

“Why tamper with excellence?” Daemon smiles smugly as the words set off a new round of boisterous approval.

In truth, he is disheartened. For so little to be different, he’d expect to feel as though he’d never left. And yet, nothing is the same. How can that be? he wonders. He thinks of you. You least of all have remained untampered by time—he’d be hard-pressed to connect his recollections of his tiny little doll-girl with the temptress you’ve become.

“Uncle Daemon,” you say, hands twisting and eyes welling as you realise what he’s doing, that he’s about to leave—

“Uncle Daemon?” you ask, lips parted and just begging to be pried further apart by a thumb or something more, something larger—

He swallows, the motion almost painful. When he tries to focus back on the discussion at hand, he finds that talk has turned to his exploits across the Narrow Sea.

“I heard he flew to the ruins of Old Valyria!” one insists.

“Don’t be stupid!” another derides. “I heard he fucked the Prince of Pentos’s daughter!”

Lessella is a fucking shrew of a woman, Daemon thinks to himself drolly. Gods save the man she takes to her bed. He does not voice this, though—instead, he merely smiles enigmatically, allowing all to make their own assumptions.

“Either way,” Dargood says with a leer, “our Prince was surely knee-deep in Eastern cunt. Oh, what a fortune! Tell me”—at this, he turns to Daemon—“why the fuck would you come back to this shithole if you had all that at your disposal?”

Daemon grunts. “Perhaps I missed the comforts of home.” He takes a healthy swig of his ale. He grimaces; he’d forgotten how disgusting it was.

Hollard sniggers. “It’s obvious, innit? ’E’s hopin’ for another run at the Realm’s Delight!”

He tries to hide his scowl as his company share sly looks, sniggering amongst themselves at the mention of his woeful attempt to swipe Rhaenyra from his brother’s hands. Fucking idiot, he rails at himself, for not bothering to craft a version of events that would make me seem less pitiful. The gossipmongers must have had their choice in tall tales to tell of that evening—never mind the scope ten summers might bring them.

“Cheers”—Oswald Kettleblack, another lowly son from a lowly House, raises his tankard—“to the Realm’s Delight!”

The men thump the table, hooting and cackling.

“Cheers!”

“Aye, cheers!”

Dargood guffaws. “And what a delight she is,” he says, once again slapping Daemon between the shoulder blades, “to just about every man with a highborn cock. Ol’ Rodrik here says she even let him have a go!”

The man to whom his long-time ally gestures to waggles his brows with lecherous intent. It triggers a fresh wave of mocking hilarity around the group, the sound unpleasant in the ear.

“Careful now.” Daemon’s teeth show in a grin that is far less friendly than it is threatening. “That is my niece and your future Queen you’re slandering. I’m duty-bound to defend her honour, even from you lot.”

This sobers the congregation; the mirth dies down to an awkward chuckle, each of them shifting uncomfortably at the censure. Fucking children, all of them.

He may have had his fair share of paroxysms over his brother’s decision to name Rhaenyra as heir over him, but it was never lack of love that drove such a response. To hear this small collection of folk disparage his niece so casually is unsettling; nay, insulting. If such a crowd is arrogant enough to voice these slurs in front of him—the woman’s own uncle—what the fuck might they be saying about her behind closed doors? It is concerning, and for more reasons than mere personal distaste.

“Is that your plan, then?” Dargood asks, curiosity plain to see in his countenance. “To ‘defend her honour’?”

The end of the query is spoken suggestively, leaving no confusion as to the intent behind it.

Needs must. “Ah, lads,” Daemon says, “not at all. How to put it? That ship has… sailed, if you will. It’s as you said; it seems she’s been a delight to many in my absence.”

It is a thoroughly tasteless remark to make, and one that leaves bitterness flooding over his tongue. Truthfully, even when he’d still thought there was a chance of reclaiming Rhaenyra, he’d not cared overmuch for the hearsay that had filtered across the sea—he’d fucked who he liked as a lad, and as far as he was concerned, she was free to do the same. All that had mattered was that, in the end, she remembered she belonged to him. Now, there is nothing tying him to the matter at all beyond the faint pangs of resentment and an indifferent sort of intrigue as to whether or not he might have a second (third) opportunity to bed her.

But still—better to conform than oppose when in amongst the scum of the city.

Hollard frowns. “Then why? Why come back at all?”

He shrugs noncommittally. “Viserys got bored without me, I suppose. And I got bored of seeding all those foreign cunts. Such a shame for it to go to waste.”

He doesn’t quite realise the significance of his remark until he hears the response.

Dargood raises a sceptical brow. “A wife, then? Why not just take your pick over East?”

Fuck. But also—‘tis true. He’d had the option; Viserys would enquire as to his efforts in securing a new bride every few moons, each raven bringing with it the same indelicate attempt at subtlety. His reply would be the same. No, brother. I’ve not found anyone sufficient to breed more Targaryens into.

What is the point in asking over and over again? he’d wonder. There’s little to be found in Essos beyond the lineage of slaves or savages.

“And sully my line with spicemonger’s ilk? Hardly,” Daemon rebuffs with a derisive snort. “No—I’ll be wanting someone worthy of my name.”

“Sounds like you’ve already an idea of whom.” It is an invitation to continue, and an obvious one at that. Still, Daemon indulges Kettleblack’s provocation.

“Perhaps,” he says, punctuating the declaration with a long draught of ale. “I’m waiting to see if it’s worth pursuing.”

He is not being serious, but they don’t need to know that. After all, who is the Rogue Prince if a scheme’s not afoot? A delinquent to hunt down, a highborn lady to seduce, a whore (or several) to fuck… His pleasures are simple—predictable, even. Time has not changed him so greatly that his old pastimes lack a charm of their own.

“Well?” Dargood motions impatiently, nostrils flaring with lascivious glee. He always did enjoy the more lurid of Daemon’s many exploits. “Don’t leave it at that! Go on!”

Daemon shrugs evasively. “What can I say? Good breeding, well-mannered… a pretty thing, too. Excellent assets. Certainly wouldn’t be any trouble to bed her.”

As the men surrounding him crow and jeer, awash with lusty praise for their Prince’s conquest-to-be, Daemon cannot help but be reminded of you. At some point during his oration, the words had ceased being a collection of personal partialities and instead become an inventory of your own characteristics—polite in the innocent, trusting way a maiden is like to view him, a delicate beauty reminiscent of the finest illustrated manuscripts, an impeccable figure below all that ridiculous finery. The Targaryen name, too. The fact that you are his little niece might just be a credit to your appeal rather than a hindrance.

Pure Valyrian ancestry, of marriageable age, likely fertile and able to give me robust sons and daughters… And her memories of her Uncle Daemon, her kepa, would have her bending quite easily to my will.

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Dargood asks. “You’re a fucking Prince! No one’s saying ‘no’ to you!”

Except his conscience, perhaps. He still has one. True, there are lords even older than he is marrying noblewomen (girls, really) your age—but eighteen summers is indeed a great disparity. When you are his age, he’d be in his dotage, surely! It would be a hard fate to subject you to, never mind the battle he’d face at Viserys’s hands. His prospects had been rather spoiled by his decision to take Rhaenyra to a fucking brothel. Idiot. He should have known the threat of her ruination would incite the man to find her a husband that was not him. Never would the King have given him the satisfaction of winning.

Daemon puts these musings aside. Better to heed my instincts. No good can come of stirring Viserys’s wrath a second (third? fourth? thousandth?) time. Besides, it is no more than titillation. He doesn’t truly wish to take you, let alone make you his wife.

“I don’t answer to you, Dargood.” Slapping the table, Daemon rises, suddenly restless. “I’ve had enough of tedious conversation. You heard me! I’ve spent too long in distant shores—”

More hooting. “Bet they were wet, eh!”

“—and what better way relearn Westerosi customs than to fuck some Westerosi cunt? I’ll need the practise if I’m to have myself a bride from these parts!”

It is between rowdy titters from his companions that Daemon departs the tavern, spilling out through the open doors and into the muck of Pisswater Bend, an aptly named street in among the foulest locales in King’s Landing. Staggering under the weight of Hollard—a pathetic drunkard if ever he saw one—he ambles along narrow roads that stink of shit, rank and roiling, his mind set on partaking in the finest of Sirille’s current offerings.

That is, he reflects, whichever doesn’t also possess the look of disease.

It is very nearly an unreasonable feat to procure a whore from any brothel in Flea Bottom that lacks the ability to shrivel a man’s cock from whatever putrid humours have long festered in her cunt. But the whores of Flea Bottom possess a very particular advantage. They cater to a larger range of tastes than most, discretion being vital to their work in a way the higher-scale establishments do not offer, and one of the reasons Daemon had come to frequent the slums of the city in the first place.

Right now, he’d prefer tongues did not speak of the urges he must satiate to cool his cravings to a more manageable simmer.

To think—barely a sennight ago, he had believed himself uninterested in pursuing his basest impulses! How quickly things change. He is not so dull-witted as to lack awareness of what has incited the shift. Even as his mind wrests with the contrition of thinking of you so licentiously, his body—his cock, specifically—welcomes the flash of your skin that sweeps upon the insides of his eyelids like a phantasm, the shape of your body and the contours of your pretty, pretty face, the sound of your voice caught between girlish charm and womanly rhythm, the hallmarks of the only bloodline he’d ever sought to pursue in a bride.

No. But you are his niece. Moreover, you are his little niece. It is different with you, not like it had been with Rhaenyra. He won’t. He can’t.

Incense is strong upon the air in the brothel, stinging his nostrils and making his eyes water. Truthfully, it is a site not quite built for the purpose it conducts, being more of a ramshackle dwelling than a business front, but it serves well enough. Besides, the curtains do an ample job of concealing those customers who wish for relative anonymity, even if the sounds cannot be escaped.

In the middle of the room sit those who wish only for the sight of whores free of their meagre attire, tits and cunts and arses all on display, or for the thrill of watching love-play between prospective clients and the girls in their laps, or perhaps for the hedonistic delight of fucking out in the open, privacy be damned. Daemon notes the sunken pallor of customers and whores alike, the lines of poverty and starvation etched in plain faces. They’d looked better back when he was a regular. Likely all the coin I spent, he muses.

“Milord!”

A voice sounds from behind him, rasping with the grit of Flea Bottom’s lowliest brogue. He turns to spot the madam herself, her jowl wobbling as she limps toward him, grinning. One by one, his companions sidle past her, approaching their intended conquests with an easy familiarity that belies a long-standing routine.

“I ‘eard you were back! Welcome! ‘Tis an honour to have the Prince in my place before the rest get ya!”

He smiles. She’d procured all manner of needy little maidens from the bowels of the city in past romps through the establishment, skinny shy things quivering and fearful, wide-eyed and reluctant. Not to his most exact tastes, no, but their timidity and frailty had been oh-so-precious—and even more fun had it been to break them of their reticence as thoroughly as he’d break them of their maidenhoods. Peasant cunt is truly a delicacy.

“Sirille.” He dips his head, inciting a round of abashed giggling. It carries not the girlish enchantment she must think it does, but she’d served him longer and more loyally than some of his own men in the City Watch. He takes no issue in humouring her. “A pleasure.”

“Oh, you! I don’ suppose you’re ‘ere to see—”

It is convenient enough for him then that one of the plainer girls approaches her employer with haste, an artless squawk of complaint filtering thready to his ears and yet, mercifully, stealing Sirille’s attention from him. He is able to move away from the entry and further into the brothel. Daemon settles on the chaise beneath the window, slouching lazily across the threadbare surface and surveying what little there is to see.

Hollard and Kettleblack have their girls stripped to the waist now, tits freed and lurching with the short, frantic motion of hips colliding. Dramatic yelps fill the room with each crude slap, the whores panting and wiggling atop their patrons with efficiency, their rhythmic release creating an almost-song in tandem with the men’s grunting and groaning. Dargood has his own on the ground in front of him, gagging enthusiastically on his prick with little swallowing moans punctuating each drag of her head forward and back. Her skirt is pulled up to bare her arsecheeks and the bruise-red flex of her cunt, wet and glistening with more than just the oil that prepares her. The other men are in similar states of disarray, open-mouthed and starry-eyed and lust-drunk in their various positions around the room.

Several of the waiting whores eye him, fluttering their lashes and flashing their tits and cunts at him. He casts a critical look over them. Too thin, too shapely, too pale, too dark, too pockmarked, too young, too old, too—too—

None of them are interesting. At least, not interesting enough to bother sticking his cock in. Shame. The itch that had driven him to fuck any whore worthy of the name in his youth has died down to a faint pulse, still frustratingly there but difficult to satiate, choosier, more selective. No longer can he spend himself in just any cunt. Rhaenyra had ruined desire for him—well, he’d thought it was Rhaenyra who had done so. He’s not so sure now. Nevertheless, there is a very particular breed of whore that fulfils his needs, one he presumes will require visiting a higher-end establishment to—

Wait. There.

A smallish, white-haired waif of a girl saunters in, adorned most curiously in a thin gown of lavender—not a cut nor colour usually available to the lower echelons, he thinks—done up to the neck, not a sliver of flesh to be seen beyond the pale of her hands and the arch of her throat and the softness of her face. He’d nearly mistaken her for a higher class of commoner, one who’d regrettably stumbled into the wrong place in the wrong district, but the ease with which she holds herself disproves the notion. She is among the less attractive in the brothel, but her features—Valyrian silver locks, Valyrian purple eyes, no doubt the baseborn daughter of a Targaryen bastard some generations back—are unmistakeable.

Are unmistakeably, exactly what he is after.

He lets his eyes linger on her, waiting; she’ll come to him, of that he is certain. None in this line of work are unfamiliar with the predilections of a man of his stature—and from the cautious, near-bashful manner in which she picks her way across the room, careful to avert her gaze from the filthier displays present, she knows precisely what he enjoys. To find a rarity like her in such a downtrodden environment is unusual. She must be quite the unlucky one, he presumes. No doubt a victim of downtrodden parents desperate to make a quick coin or several. It's not uncommon for the poorest of the city to sell their daughters to the brothels in the hope of lasting through the winter season.

Then, the whispers from the other patrons reach his ears—not abnormal, no, but it is the name they speak as the whore passes that sends a jolt through him.

“The People’s Delight,” they call her, their voices dripping with mockery even as their eyes gleam with longing, absorbing the way the fire in the hearth plays upon her silver-spun tresses so like his own. “Look at ‘er—the People’s Delight!”

The realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning. Curse his abominable fortune! For how can ‘the People’s Delight’ be anything but a crude play on his nieces’ epithets, yet another reminder plaguing him with the thoughts he cannot escape? Rhaenyra, ‘the Realm’s Delight’, bold and brash and beautiful from infancy, his dragonrider girl since the age of seven; and you, ‘the People’s Princess’, always with a polite word and a shy smile to give the commoners from your seat in Aemma’s lap on alms days in girlhood. This cobbled-together moniker is very clearly an allusion to these titles.

“My Prince.”

The girl stands before him, bobbing in a clumsy curtsey, peering down at him through pale lashes. Her hands clasp together in a show of modesty, her spine held straight and proud in a manner so rarely to be seen on this side of Flea Bottom. Pride is indeed in short supply in so destitute a locality.

Daemon is torn. He could—he should—castigate her thoroughly for daring to disrespect the blood of the dragon. He ought to make an example of her in front of all present, to drag her into the streets and through the city by her hair so that everyone may see what happens when you ridicule the Princesses of the Realm, when you besmirch their honour by adopting their royal styles and honours for cheap whore’s tricks…

But he wants very badly to discover how deep the similarities run.

“A bold choice—‘the People’s Delight’.” Daemon does his best to maintain relative impassivity. “One might say treasonous, even.”

Rather than quail, the little slut laughs. “If you were going to ‘ave me thrown in the Black Cells”—she moves to sit beside him, not too close and not too far, calculated and infuriating—“you would’ve already.”

“Brave thing, aren’t you?”

Up close, her gown is rather less demure than he’d assumed—the fabric is diaphanous, gauzy, revealing blush-tipped tits that have yet to slacken from age or famine. Perfect.

She grins teasingly when she spies him watching, obligingly arching her back to raise her chest to his view.

“Clever, too,” she adds, slowly bringing a knee up and out so that he may catch a glimpse of what lay between her thighs. The hair matches her head. Good. “At least, cleverer than you’d think, bein’ from these parts and all.”

“Hm.” He’s not really listening, truth be told—if he wanted conversation, there are at least a hundred people he’d choose to engage with before he ever bothered with a whore.

Emboldened by boredom, he reaches out, allows his hand to fall to the hollow spaces between her ribs just beneath her upraised arm, to cup the meagre weight of one of those tits with a thumb and drag up, up, up to feel the nipple stiffen under his touch. She sighs, pushing into him barely, a tacit encouragement that doesn’t overstate her eagerness but invites more. A consummate professional.

“B’sides,” she says, breathier now, lower in tone, “the rich people’ve got plenty of Realm’s Delights and People’s Princesses over in them pretty whorehouses on Silk Street. What about Flea Bottom, eh? Lotsa poor folk want to fuck a royal just as bad. Can make a lot’ve coin that way, too.”

“I imagine you can,” he replies dryly.

‘Tis no surprise that men want to pretend their cocks are buried in Rhaenyra for but a moment—he’s long been one of them, after all—though the idea that you are in the minds of such scum when release pools fast and heavy in their stones sends frissons of vexation throbbing through his bloodstream. That anger, so quick to mingle with desire, fuels his cock to full mast.

“Well, pet”—he delivers the address with a sharp twist to the teat he’d been fondling—“care to earn a few coin more?”

“Thought you’d never ask, Your ‘Ighness.”

With a saucy wink, she pushes herself off the chaise, holding a hand out to him. He accepts the implicit offer, allowing her to lead him through the open area and onward.

At first, he presumes they are headed toward one of the cordoned-off spaces—but then, she continues, pulling him gently but unerringly to the narrow staircase. A boon indeed, to be a Prince. It seems he’ll be receiving the royal treatment, after all.

The chambers in question are not at all pleasant—with creaking floorboards, the pervasive scent of mildew and a faint squeaking that indicates a rather significant rodent problem, it is a far cry from the luxurious standards he is accustomed to in higher-end establishments. But the bedframe seems solid; the mattress unsoiled; the pillows serviceable enough. He does not intend to linger.

He seats himself in the chair by the hearth, angled toward the bed, and readies himself for a show.

The whore stops before him. “You’ve a liking for the elder one, don’t you, my Prince? I don’t act for the littlest yet, but the middle one’s getting quite popu—”

Daemon interrupts, trying not to shift uncomfortably at the mention of Rhaenyra—of you. “That’s fine.”

With a wave of the hand, he commands her to do away with her attire. She makes speedy work of the buttons affixing the front closed, beginning to shrug off the sheer fabric so that her thin shoulders reveal themselves more and more. The smug half-smile and the cock of her hip lends the performance a breadth of flirtation, furthered by her impish little shimmy as the cloth catches on the twin swells upon her chest.

He stops her with a sigh.

“No,” he corrects, gut heating at the crestfallen look that overtakes her visage. “Again, but more…” He casts about for the right descriptor.

“Nervous?” she offers, immediately adopting a pose of diffidence, arms curling inward to tuck her gown back over her exposed skin.

“Hm.” He nods once.

Nervous. A shy, soft little mouse-girl, ready to be snatched up by a predator…

The whore hunches slightly, eyes shifting flightily about the room, never once settling on him as she slowly, slowly tugs down the dress, hands folding over her tits to conceal them from view. Shades of lavender puddle around her hips, sliding effortlessly over protruding bone and onto the ground with a whisper, exposing a neat thatch of silver curls below her belly. Her knees clench tight, twisting urgently to prevent his gaze from reaching the prize that lays between them.

“There we are. Very pretty.”

A muted, bashful curve of the lips. “You—you think so?”

“Turn around.” She spins on her heel, hair spilling molten down her back to kiss the roundness where her torso meets her legs. Lovely. For a chit as lean as she is, she most certainly has a nice arse. “On your hands and knees.” The girl pads over to the bed, making brief play at tentativeness before crawling into his desired posture. “Bend—ah, that’s it,” he says, ogling greedily as she bows her spine to raise her cunt up higher, fluttering in greeting as the cooler air hits. “Look at you.”

She moans softly when his hands fall to her arsecheeks, thumbs sliding down to spread and lift where she is most protected. The petals shielding her hungry little core peel apart slowly, hastened by his thumbs digging into the meat of her. Mm. Valyrian cunt, that is. Regardless of bastardy, Daemon knows what the blood of old looks like, feels like.

He is dizzy with it—the sight of it, the smell of it, heady and ripe for the taking. “Call me ‘Uncle’, won’t you, pet?”

“Mm.” She whines, hitching back before she remembers the game afoot, aborts her impatient little overture. But that cunt—flexing, wet, spitshine little doll cunt, peasant whore or no—doesn’t lie. “Yes, Uncle!”

Grunting, he fumbles one-handed with his laces, near to bursting already. Yes, Uncle, high-pitched, breathy-sweet, precious and fearful and wanting and—and he must remember what he is here for. What she is here for. She cries out when he delivers a speedy strike to her rump that flushes the flesh a pleasing pink, the colour of dewy cheeks and new-bloomed blossoms and childlike innocence.

“Did that hurt?” he taunts, landing another blow to the same spot and delighting in the garbled whimper it forces from the girl.

“No”—she squeals at the next slap, corrective this time—“I mean, yes, Uncle. It hurts.”

Though she cannot see his face, he bares his teeth, a smile that is more menacing than enticing. “This cunt tells me a different story. You’ve soaked the sheets—look at this mess.”

She’s barely wet her thighs, but the exaggeration heats his blood almost to boiling. “I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you will be.” He is forced to unbutton his surcoat and discard it on the floor to dispel the mist of perspiration clinging to his skin and undershirt, suddenly ravenous. He’s toyed with her long enough. “I could just slide right in, couldn’t I?”

He tests the statement with little ceremony, prodding one then two fingers straight to the knuckle. Save for the quiet yelp she emits, the entry is smooth, unresisting, nearly proving to undo the illusion he has stirred up. Soft, warm, drenched cunt—too easy, but it’s better than nothing at all. He curls the digits, hooking firmly down toward her navel and drawing forth a louder noise, startled, less controlled. It spurs her to speak.

“Yes, a slut”—she nods her head vociferously before catching herself at the warning dig of nails into her sensitised flesh, abruptly changing course—“I mean, no! I’m not a slut!”

So many errors from this one. For a commoner, it’d do.

“No.” He lets the blunder be. Removing himself from her passage, he allows his hand to fall carelessly upon her rear again, the moisture clinging to his skin harshening the arc into a blow. “You’re a good little maiden, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” she pants, raising her hips higher.

Her arse is a shade of bright now, the subtle glow of pomegranates, of red little tongues, of dusky hot innards spilled forth by the blade under the searing sun. His handprints mark all over the flesh, a symbol of proprietorship that will last longer than this night.

“Dripping more than a used whore.” He scoffs, spurred by the sight of her, shuffling up on his knees to seat himself behind her. The slight lands perfectly; she flinches at his words, and it is oh-so-easy to pretend it is the hasty advancement of his cock notching at her entry that incites such reaction. “If there’s one thing Uncle’s very good at, it’s turning maidens into whores. Would you like to find out how?”

He is already rocking his way inside in increments, taking just one moment to savour the feel of her grasping cunt-lips mouthing along the heft of him, greedy, eager to start work and perform the duty they’ve been tasked to. Hissing, he clutches roughly at her hips, pulling her backward.

She pants, breath stuttering. “Oh, I—”

“Sh, just take it, take it.”

He presses down between her shoulders, leaning his weight into it and pinning her to the bed as he comes flush with her form, lodged deep within pulsing walls. The groan he lets out is involuntary, an exhalation of utmost relief at finding himself once more in the depths of familiar territory.

“Easier than I thought,” he croons, holding her firm despite her attempts to wiggle up, out, away from his hold. “Perhaps you’ve been dishonest. Only sluts have such loose cunts.”

A shaky gasp. “I’m a maiden, I promise!”

And the sound of it is enough to make him forget where he is, when, who he is with and why.

Yes, a maiden, a perfect little maiden whore just for me, made for me—

He chokes on the rising wave of pleasure, lowering himself onto your back and covering you in him, shielding you with his body, protecting you with himself as he takes and takes and takes what he wants from your body, willing and wanton and his. Your hair ripples like moonlight over water with his every thrust, harsh and frantic, desperate to reach his end.

“And now you’re mine.” Daemon’s muscles strain and he can barely hear himself above the pitch of his heart galloping faster and faster. He tucks his chin to your shoulder, ear against lips that cannot stop mewling shrill and besieged, using your juddering frame as traction to force himself deeper, further, more. “Say it!”

“I’m yours, Uncle!” you bleat, lost kitten dewy-eyed and damp-cheeked, fingers grappling with the covers above your head. “I’m—Uncle—”

For some strange, unknown reason, it rings hollow, the fantasy blurring at the edges and allowing the cold touch of reality to slowly trickle in. Not quite right.

“No.” He redirects her in coarse tones, unwilling to forsake the illusion. “Call me ‘kepus’, call me—”

“Kepus,” you—she—you cry, cunt suctioning tight around him. It’s hot within you, unbearably slick, your walls knotting vigorously to the contours of his shaft with each hard snap forward and rough glide back. The scent of it, raw and heady and humid, fills his nose and lungs and clouds his mind. “You’re going too deep—ah!”

“That’s just your tiny baby cunt making room,” he thinks he coos, but really, he’s snarling through clenched teeth down at you, precious girl, sweetest niece, cock cleaving straight through the hollow spaces inside you and gut tightening with a rising, rising—“pretty little cunt just for Kepa’s cock, all for me—”

His release is swift, sudden, arriving too soon and ending too abruptly, prying your name from his lips when the ecstasy reaches its fleeting summit. Still, he lets his mass collapse upon you, hips pistoning to the beat of his climax as he groans his relief. And then, it’s over. The ember fizzles, and he is left with sticky, cooling skin and the feeling of a sweating form below him. Without thought, he sighs into the crook of your neck, nostrils searching for the rose oil that lingers on your skin even now—

Only to find naught but the trace of cheap lye soap. Only to remember that the girl quivering beneath him is not you, but some nameless whore. Only to realise that he’d been fantasising of you this entire time, of fucking you fast and forceful until you knew nothing but the sensation of him on you, in you, your kepa taking you and claiming you and keeping you.

—‘polite in the innocent, trusting way a maiden is like to view him, a delicate beauty reminiscent of the finest illustrated manuscripts, an impeccable figure below all that ridiculous finery’—

Fuck. Fuck. He had called out your name.

—‘you are his little niece. It is different with you, he won’t, he can’t’—

More than that. He had all but declared you for himself. In a fucking brothel. He’d never dare allow his true inclinations to be known in the past. Not even with Mysaria, with Rhaenyra had he shown such base need. Such weakness. But you…

—‘no more than titillation. He doesn’t truly wish to take you, let alone make you his wife’—

How lack-witted he is. Barely an hour ago, he had disavowed attributing any sort of significance to his lusts, denoting them as little more than the reflexive whims of a man accustomed to sampling anything or anyone he wishes. Already he has proven himself incorrect!

No. This is far, far more than mere titillation. The precise degree to which his desires afflict him—well, this he doesn’t know. He can only hope the girl will uphold the custom of her line of work and keep quiet, hope that rumours will not abound of the Rogue Prince’s latest fascination.

Hope that word will not make way to you. Such tales reaching your ears is the very last thing he wants.

Questions he cannot answer churn through his mind as he extracts himself from the whore, deposits coin on the mattress, ignores her overtures and stumbles out of the room, wondering what the fuck has just happened.

Read the story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42100623/chapters/120367177

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#terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you

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rad-batson · 7 months

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THIS IS FOR FANS OF CASSANDRA CAIN! PLEASE READ! I WANT YOUR THOUGHTS

(skip to the bottom if you just want silly headcanons about her :D)

Hello! So first, I want to thank everyone who read the Wayne pilot I made :) I appreciate your feedback, and I love you all.

As I'm preparing to post it on AO3, I decided to make a few (admittedly small) changes to the script, primarily around Cassandra Cain, because I haven't quite fleshed her out yet.

I don't have much experience with writing Cass, so I decided to do a bit of research on her yesterday, and wouldn't you know? I fell in love. 10/10. She didn't play a huge part in the pilot, but she will have a bigger one in the second episode, and there are a few things I think can or should be added so she doesn't feel too one-note.

There wasn't anyone who told me this, by the way. (In fact, I actually got some nice comments about her so thank you.) I just had it in the back of my mind while writing, and now that Cass is getting more screen time, I'm finding that my lack of knowledge might lead to mischaracterization.

SO TO COMBAT THIS, I MADE A GUIDE FOR MYSELF ON HOW TO WRITE CASS

Is this overkill? Probably Think of it as a silly headcanon list for my version of her. And I'm posting it here because I want your feedback before it's set in stone. (I know Cass isn't written well a lot, so this is my attempt to right these horrid wrongs.)

If you're going to give criticism, please be constructive. Tell me what you like or don't like. I'm all ears. Have fun :)

Writing Cass

(Btw I still gotta read Cass’s first Batgirl run by Kelley Puckett)

Has some sass, has a lot actually

Used to be awkward in social settings. she’s better at it when she’s with people so she can match their energy but she still prefers to just dip

Speaks in short-ish sentences, trying her best tho

I WILL BE ADDING THIS INTO THE PILOT, I JUST WANT TO KNOW TO WHAT DEGREE?? OR IS IT REALLY FINE

Mostly just relies on body language though

I WILL BE ADDING THIS INTO THE PILOT TOO, ESPECIALLY WITH THE ASL SCENE (BUT IT’S NOT REPLACING THE ASL)

also yes i know her using ASL isn't canon, it just works best for the scene, it would have been written the same whether she was in it or not, it is still a cute nod to fanon tho

Steph and Cass are extremely close BUT ALSO HAVE SEPARATE LIVES (I HAVE BEEN TOLD TO STRESS THAT AND I AGREE)

Messy, low-key gross. Bad-ish hygiene but she’s good at looking put-together so only those close know this about her (this is just my headcanon)

Often forgets bigger words so she occasionally uses the wrong one, she ALSO mixes up proverbs but no one corrects her because 1: it’s cute and 2: they don’t want to discourage her from speaking with them more casually (also my headcanon)

Cass: So I pulled the door off its…*makes motion with hand*…metal books. Steph: Do you mean hinge— Cass: Metal books.

Dick: Well that was a surprise. I didn’t know The Penguin would be here. Cass, nodding: Well life gives you grapes Dick: Wut Cass: You make grape juice. Get on the same book, Nightwing

I'M ON THE FENCE ABOUT ADDING THIS ONE BECAUSE IDK LET ME KNOW PLEASE

Is a cinnamon bun AND a little shit, it’s a balancing act

Production: She’s Wayne’s darling Princess Cass: *will break your fingers*

She does appear behind the camera crew to scare them on purpose, she thinks it’s funny, she likes seeing them freak out

She is super competitive, but she's always like "Oh I'm not that competitive" *proceeds to be very competitive*

Because she isn't super confident in her writing or speaking (or just uncomfortable communicating without seeing the other person's body language) she prefers to Facetime or simply reply to texts with selfies of her reaction. It is a thing now. when you need an honest opinion about an outfit, text a photo to Cass. She will either give back a photo of a thumbs up or a photo of a grimace and some not-so-flattering emojis

Her princess persona is her public cover persona in this show, parallel to Bruce’s “Brucie” and Dick’s “born for the cameras” thing

Is surprisingly vocal (and sometimes snippy) about her distaste with things but she mostly gets a pass because her morals align best with Bruce’s

Is most snippy when her family uses methods other than violence when violence is clearly the faster option, god they're such pacifists

Tim: *trying carefully to pick a lock* Cass: Just break through the wall? Tim: We can’t do that. We’re trying not to be noticed. Cass: Wimp

Bruce: Cass, why did you have to dislocate that man’s shoulder? Cass: I put it back. Bruce: That’s not the point. Cass: Fine, I’ll dislocate it again.

Is the best fighter, none of this “oh she’s the best fighter so when people do win against her, it makes them look cooler” thing, shut tf up, she could break their bones (not important to the show ofc but I need to add this because it is important in general)

Horrible at drawing, wretched (again a headcanon but I did see someone else mention it somewhere)

Also bad at writing, refuses to study to improve out of principle (i.e. she told Babs she doesn’t need to and now she refuses to admit Babs was right)

(AND SIDE-HEADCANON IF SHE IS HORRIBLE AT WRITING AND ACTIVELY HATED STUDYING HER ALPHABET THEN WHAT IF LIKE ONE DAY SOMEONE SAYS “hey can you grab me one of these files from last week’s case, it’s under M” SHE’S LIKE “fuck you, how could you do this to me” WHILE SEARCHING FOR M OR MORE SIMPLY *throws something at them*)

That's all I have right now. If you'd like to give me any recommendations, please do. I can't promise I'll add in every single one because this show is still about the whole Batfam, not just her, but I want to do her justice, and that definitely involves more fine-tuning on my part

OKAY THAT'S ALL LOVE YOU BYE

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enkas-illusion · 5 months

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One of Your Guys

One of Your Guys - Part 2/3

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, smut (oral, f.receiving), language, hurt/comfort, angst (kinda?), friends to lovers

Chapter Summary: Sorting out your feelings always feels like a nightmare, but it becomes a lot more bearable when your flatmate plays cupid to help you with it.

Author’s Note: This is a long ass chapter lol, could’ve split it in two but I wanted to commit to the 3-part story thing. Enjoy!

(P.S. Will probably post Part 3 this Saturday... I had a lot of fun writing it, to say the least)

Song Dedication: Those Eyes by New West / Carry Me Home by Jorja Smith & Maverick Sabre

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Fuck… yes, right there,” you moan as you look down between your thighs. Choso’s eyes look up at you as he eats you out with a steady pace – sucking and licking at your pussy just as you like it.

Your legs shake as you chant his name on repeat. Your hands roam down to tug at his jet black hair, your back arching off the bed. The wet sound of his mouth against your core has the adrenaline rushing to your head, keeping you from thinking straight.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, almost there. Just a little bit more.

“Satoru… I’m clos-'' your words get caught in your throat as you look down with a blurry vision. The man between your legs stills his movement and sits up to move away from you.

“Satoru?” Choso lets out a chuckle in disbelief, “Is that who you belong to?”

You open your mouth to talk but it feels like you’ve lost your voice and no matter how hard you try to speak, you simply can’t. Panic sets in and as if on cue, an incessant buzzing sound rings in your ears from your bedside table. As soon as you turn to the side to shut it off, your hand accidentally hits the edge of the table.

Ouch.

That’s how you wake up the next day, in cold sweat and even more delirious than the night before. What the fuck was that? It’s as if your own mind is out to get you.

So much for wanting emotional clarity in the morning.

You grab the bottle from the side table, taking big gulps of water, almost emptying the entire thing before returning it back to its place. You tap on your phone to check the time – 02:54 PM – you’d slept in all through the morning.

Leaving your bed lazily, you walk towards the window to open the curtains slowly and let the light in. You’re glad the sun isn’t too harsh even though it’s late into the afternoon. You stretch a bit to release the stiffness in your body and your stomach growls. You’d barely eaten since last night, so naturally, you find yourself craving enough food to feed 10 people.

Feelings can wait, you decide, food can’t.

Just as you begin your walk to the kitchen, your doorbell rings and you reroute your steps to get the door instead. Just as you reach the door, the bell rings again.

“Patience, jezz!” you groan as you open the door. Before you’ve even opened it halfway, your flatmate barges in with her travel bags, dropping them to the floor as she gives you a bear hug.

“Miss me? It’s okay mama’s hereee.” Mia says in a sing-song tone as she squeezes and shakes you in her arms. You want to tease her and say no but this feels so comforting that you simply laugh as you nod your head and hug her back.

When she pulls away from you and observes you as you close the door, she states, “Wow, you look like shit, what happened?”

“I missed you real bad.” you say dryly. She gives you a stare down and in an effort to change the topic, you add, “Weren’t you returning in the evening?”

She places her bags near the foot of the sofa and drops to the sofa with her whole body weight. She moves to make some space when you sit next to her.

“Evening… afternoon… same thing… besides I had t-,” she pauses midway as she stares at you with wide eyes and your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Your eyes widen back at her when you see she’s not exactly staring at your face.

“Hold on, what the fuck is that???” she half yells, pointing at your hickey in sync with you slapping both your hands to your neck in a poor attempt to cover the entire area.

Right, the hickeys. You weren’t actively aware that other people could see them, partly because, well… even you hadn’t registered everything from the previous night into your brain in a sane, rational, comprehensible manner.

“Don’t tell me… Satoru?” she gasps as she leans forward to pull your hand away to inspect the mark near your collarbone. “To be honest, I didn’t think you had it in you to confess-”

“No… it’s not Satoru…” you say as you avoid her gaze and almost mumble the next part, “...Choso did that.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?” her eyes widen again as she squeals. Disbelief and amusement written all over her face. “Details! I want DETAILS!”

You take a deep breath and sigh as you tell her to freshen up before you get into it all. She protests but gets up quickly when she realises you’d delay giving her the gossip even further if she persisted.

When Mia almost runs back to her room with her bags, you stare at her as you let out a chuckle in disbelief. Well, at least someone’s entertained.

You go to the kitchen and grab two packs of instant noodles. As you set the water on the stove for boiling, you go back to your room to take a shower to shake off the lethargic feeling that had taken over your body.

You wrap up your routine quicker than usual, knowing Mia would grow impatient if she had to wait longer than necessary whenever it came to ‘juicy drama’.

When you get out of the bathroom in your room, you look at your reflection in the mirror as your fingers roam over the marks Choso had left on your skin. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks when you recall the sensation of his lips on you and then you remember the dream from less than an hour ago. You let out a sigh – you’re screwed, and it’s not the good kind.

You touch the bruise just below your left ear and move a few strands of hair over it. Your hair might do a good job at covering it, you just have to be careful not to flip it… or tie it up… or move too fast and basically freeze in place and you’ll be good.

The other hickey is much more prominent. It sits just slightly above your right clavicle. When you brush your fingers over it, it feels sensitive. This is going to be a task to cover up. You sigh again – something you’ve been doing a lot since yesterday.

For now, you decide a round neck t-shirt would be good enough as you rummage through your closet. You get dressed quickly and walk to the kitchen. By the time you’re done serving the hot noodles in two bowls, you hear Mia’s footsteps from behind.

“Need any help?” she asks as she enters the kitchen. “Yes, can you please grab our coffee?” you say and you tilt your head in the direction of the two mugs on the counter. She takes the mugs and walks out, you follow behind with the noodle bowls.

The minute you set everything on the coffee table in front of the sofa, your roomie turns you around. You realise trying to cover up the hickeys was a futile effort as Mia yanks the neckline down to observe the mark above your collarbone.

You scrunch your face as she squeals with a series of ‘Ohmygodddddd, I can’t believe this actually happened. I CALLED IT! I told you! I told you it was gonna happen!!!’

You’ve been hearing one too many ‘I told you so’s for the last two days and so far none of them have been pleasant.

“You done or should I take a nap while you fangirl?” you joke dryly as she gives you a side-eye and punches your shoulder playfully.

“Okay, tell me everything. That’s a deep mark, I just know he’s a freak! What was his dick like? I’m sure it’s big… It’s always the quiet ones!” She speaks so fast that any normal person would miss half of what she’d just said.

“I don’t know… because we never got to that part.” you reply sternly. She frowns at you and stares at you in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

You tell her everything from the top – about seeing the snaps from the party, calling Choso over, him comforting you, the accidental make out and his confession after. She interrupts you several times to ask for details when she catches you skimming over some parts.

Nothing can ever get past Mia so you realise you might as well ask for her expert opinion on all of this. You’d always trusted her opinion when it came to matters of the heart since she’s always drawing from her own experiences. Mia is the type of person who has superior insight and introspective ability that you only wish to develop some day.

As you both hungrily gobble down the noodles and coffee, you also tell her that ever since Choso pointed it out, you’ve suddenly been awfully aware about how Satoru knew you had a crush on him but never cared enough to confront you about it.

“... and so I can’t help but feel that the reason I never told him I had a crush on him is because deep down I might’ve been scared of getting rejected. Because, if he knows I like him, it means that he ignored my feelings and kept me on a hook on purpose…” you trail off towards the end of your monologue, still grappling with all your half-cooked emotions.

“Hmm,” Mia ponders over your words, taking a brief pause before speaking up, “Satoru does like attention so I won’t be surprised if he gave you just enough signals to keep the crush alive but not enough to give you a clear indication of anything stronger… still, I doubt that dummy had any ill intention, maybe he thought your crush was surface level and not some deep infatuation.”

“Well, now I’m not even sure if I like him.” you almost whisper, embarrassed to admit it out loud.

“You’ve been pining over him for about 6 months.” Mia narrows her eyes at you.

“I know… but I can’t explain it. Now that I know Satoru never really considered me as a potential partner, it’s sort of making me realise how delusional I've been. I hadn’t felt anything all these years of us being friends so why did I suddenly like him just months ago? I hate liking him… it’s so frustrating!” you wonder out loud, hoping she’d have some answers.

Instead, she asks you something that you honestly have no answer to, “How do you know when you actually like someone?”

“You find them attractive and like spending time with them?” you answer as you think of Satoru. She urges you to continue, not satisfied with the surface-level shit. You think harder and add, “When tiny things remind you of them? It’s like you can find traces of them in your everyday life, even when sometimes the situation might not be related to them.”

You’ve been picking at your nails but stop the movement as soon as you notice it. Mia stays quiet as you look up at her to continue.

“Oh! And you want to know their likes and dislikes, but not just the basics. You want to know their thoughts on something you like as well and you want to share more of you with them and get to know them more than anyone ever has.” you smile as you finish your analysis. But your smile quickly fades when you realise that Satoru wasn’t the one on your mind when you spoke the last few sentences.

“Look at you gooo,” Mia whistles, causing you to roll your eyes at her. As if it’s an intuitive thing for her, she asks, “Who was on your mind just now?”

Not Satoru.

“No one.” you know it’s not the answer she wants to hear. She’s too optimistic to believe you’d be more open about your feelings, no matter how confusing they might be.

“You know what they say, you can lie to everyone else but yourself… all I can tell you is that if you didn’t think of Satoru then our poor blondie was just a placeholder.” she begins but you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Placeholder?” you interrupt to ask.

“Yes. You know how we’re always taught a romanticised version of love? It’s like, somewhere along the way, we mistake craving for love itself with craving for a particular person. You want to feel the feeling of being in love but you can’t possibly do that if the feeling itself has no face to it. So when I call him a placeholder, it’s in the way you channel your delusions of love through him when you may not even have any romantic feelings for him to begin with!”

You process everything that she says and as much as you dislike the way it is making you feel, deep down you know that her theory might apply to you more than you’d like to admit.

She speaks up again after a brief pause, “You liked the feeling of crushing on someone because it signified that the romantic space in your heart wasn't empty… and who else could possibly be a better placeholder than your closest friend, Satoru?”

You stay silent. You feel exposed. As if your emotions had been bared out in the open without your permission. The kind of emotions that are too rough to be brought to the surface. Emotions that only ever seem decent when you present a polished, snipped version of them to the outside world.

Mia is aware of this. She knows this all too well because she’d been in your position way too many times. She pulls you out of your thoughts as she speaks up again.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” she squeezes your hand gently. You give her a smile despite still feeling like you’re tripping over the heavy realisation you just had. “Let’s watch something?”

She turns the TV on and sees Bridgerton under your ‘Continue Watching’ tab and lets out a tiny giggle as she wiggles her eyebrows at you. You punch her arm lightly.

“Maybe you can text Choso about continuing the show... ‘Heyyy, do you want to come over and finish where we left off.’” she says, trying to mock you with a sexy voice and it makes you laugh.

Mia ends up picking a random 2000s romcom and you both doze off on the sofa by the time the credits roll. When you wake up, it’s already quite late, so you order some food and call it a night when you’re done with dinner.

—

The whole week passes by quicker than expected since you were mostly busy with work during the day and busy pondering over what the recent reversal of your crush on Satoru means moving forward.

By the time Saturday arrives, you feel as if you have sorted out your feelings in the best way you possibly could. There was nothing to fix when it came to Satoru since you’d stopped feeling miserable over him. In your mind, he’d already gone back to being your close friend but at the same time, you were awfully aware that the only thing you really missed about crushing on him was the placeholder phenomenon Mia had described so well.

As for Choso, it was a whole different thing. You completely ignored any thoughts about him that arose in your mind for about 3 days after the kiss. Afterall, you’d accused him of thinking with his dick that night, it’d be hypocritical if you felt attracted to him just because you made out.

So after not texting him for a week, here you were, contemplating texting him as you sat in the living room. He hadn’t texted you all week either, you debate to yourself.

Well, can you blame him?

You take a deep breath as you text him, asking him if he had time for hot chocolate. He replies with a simple ‘yes’ after what feels like forever (15 minutes later).

Not wanting to bother him with the task when he arrives, you prepare two cups of hot chocolate and keep them at their place on the coffee table as you wait for your doorbell to ring eagerly.

You almost sprint to the door when the bell rings five minutes later. You rub your sweaty hands on the fabric of your t-shirt before opening the door with a wide smile. He returns your smile as he walks in and past you to sit on the sofa.

No hugs. Okay.

You notice his hair is pulled up in a sweaty bun with his gym bag placed near his feet.

“You were at the gym?” you inquire.

“Hmm. Texted you when I was wrapping it up.” he replies as he takes one of the cups. You sit next to him and grab the other one.

You’re almost offended at him going to the gym alone. For about 4 months now, you’d been going together on the weekends since your weekday schedules don’t align well enough to make it to the gym at the same time.

“Why didn’t you call me?” you ask, your voice sounds dejected although you’d tried masking it well.

“Figured you’d want some space.” he replies curtly. You want to yell at him to stop being so formal. You miss your Choso.

“Choso,” you sigh as you look at him, waiting for him to meet your gaze. When he does, you speak again, “A lot happened and I needed time to process it all. You were right about it all, about Satoru ignoring me and me doing the same to you. I’m so sorry that I made you feel as if you were only an emotional support friend. I wish I could show you how much you mean to me.”

You notice the stiffness in his shoulders ease a bit at your words. Taking it as a positive sign you continue, “I won’t lie, but I haven’t really seen you in a romantic light since I’ve been blindly crushing over Satoru… not to say that I don’t find you attractive! You’re hot- but that’s besides the point… the point is, can we be friends first? I’d really like to know you for who you are, without all of our talks being overshadowed by me ranting about some stupid crush.”

You almost believe your words did more damage than good before you see a smile break on Choso’s otherwise resting face. You smile back at him.

It’s his turn to speak now, “I think I can handle that… but I believe you’re being too harsh on yourself. While your crush has been a constant topic of conversation, you’ve been a good friend regardless. You have been there for me whenever I needed a friend to talk to and you always listen to me rant about work or whatever just as much.”

You nod at him to continue.

“I’d say we already know each other pretty well. But of course, I'll always want to know more about you… what can I say? You’ve piqued my interest and it’s been hard to let go since.” he pinches your cheek as you feel a blush creep up your face.

You push his hand away but it’s only to get closer to hug him. He wraps his arms around your waist, completely enveloping you into his space, but it's far from invasive – it’s more welcoming than ever. You bury your face into his neck, breathing in the soothing scent of oud and jasmine, mixed with a tiny hint of sweat.

“So, how are things on the Satoru front? You’re almost making it sound as if you’ve lost interest.” he jokes when you pull away, secretly hoping his intuition is right.

You briefly tell him about your talk with Mia, leaving out the part where you’d told your roomie all about the makeout sesh. He raises an eyebrow at the placeholder theory but simply nods as he thinks it over in his head.

“So you really are over him?” He asks once again. Even if he intends to seek reassurance, you can’t tell by the way his tone is almost indifferent.

You joke about his crush on you being a similar type of thing and you bet him that he’ll soon realise he doesn’t like you like he thought he did.

“You’re a lot more than a placeholder to me, baby.” he pouts at you before swiftly getting up to take the empty cups back to the kitchen, not giving you time to react. You watch his back, baffled at how daring and straightforward Choso can get sometimes.

He returns at the same time Mia comes out of her room, yawning as she covers her mouth.

“Hey Choso, how are you?” she smiles slyly at him. There’s a sudden shift in his body language and you realise Mia’s presence has suddenly made him nervous. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

He’s aware you’ve told her about him.

And based on how well he knows you, he’s certain you’ve given Mia an unabridged version of the events of last Saturday. He greets her back with an awkward ‘sup’ and you can’t help but think of it as a boyfriend-meets-parents type of situation.

Your amusement is visible on your face and Mia catches onto it. What she says next surprises you.

“Good thing you’re here. I was just inviting people over for my birthday weekend next weekend.” she smiles at him.

“Birthday weekend?” Choso asks.

“Yup, so each year, the people whose birthdays lie on and/or closest to the weekend, they get a whole weekend where they’re the boss and everyone else in the group has to strictly follow whatever they’ve planned for the whole group.” she explains.

Choso looks at you, already loving being invited to something like this. “But don’t get your hopes up too high! Mia is a homebody so we’re all probably going to be trapped at home baking stuff or something like that.” you add, nonetheless, his excitement doesn’t fade.

He tells Mia he’ll be looking forward to it and hugs you both like he’s about to leave. This time you ask him to stay to finish the last 2 episodes of Bridgerton. He thinks it over hesitantly but agrees. The only difference this time is that Mia has joined you on the sofa. You don’t complain though, since the last thing you needed right now was to be left alone with Choso while watching steamy sex scenes from the final episodes.

When Choso eventually leaves, you express your surprise to Mia at her inviting him for the birthday weekend, which almost always, only involves your tiny group consisting of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, Kento, Mia and you.

“Think of it as me playing cupid babe”, she pouts as she makes kissing sounds at you and you palm her face to push her away. She giggles, “My plan is to keep everyone trapped in the house for two whole days, it’ll be so boring, it’ll ironically be so much fun. And you get to spend all your time with your loverboy.”

“He’s not my loverboy,” you protest.

“Oh yeah? Say that to his cute ass puppy eyes that always fixate on you whenever he hears you laugh. He’s so gone for you, it’s almost sickening to watch, being a third wheel.”

“Give it a rest… dear lord!” you say but you can’t help but feel another blush forming on your cheeks due to her constant teasing.

You were trying your best not to like Choso romantically, you wanted to give it time to make sure you weren’t liking him as just another placeholder.

—

The next week passes by just as quickly. The only difference is that this time you constantly find yourself taking tiny breaks from work to text Choso. You feel great relief when he texts you back with the same enthusiasm… or maybe he’s always been that way and you’re the one who’s just now noticing it.

Mia had explained her plan for the birthday weekend on your friends’ group chat. The plan was for everyone to gather at your place on Friday evening, along with whatever essentials they needed to hibernate for the next two days. You call it hibernate because Mia’s one rule for the weekend was that nobody would step outside the apartment at any cost, unless someone had an emergency only as grave as a heart attack.

Psychopath would be a harsh word, but, hypothetically speaking, if Mia were given a chance to take part in one of those human psychological experiments, she'd do it happily while dragging the rest of the group with her.

However, on the upside, Mia was a gamer girl through and through. It was kind of perfect because you, on the other hand, were a card game expert of sorts. It was a simple plan really – games, drinks, movies – yet if you were to ask Satoru and Shoko’s opinion on the matter, they’d protest by saying something along the lines of a party isn’t a party unless you bar-hop while getting shitfaced drunk at 3am.

On Friday evening, as soon as you return from work, you and Mia clean the apartment for your friends’ welcome. You arrange the card games and snacks on the table before freshening up.

You’d informed Choso about the plan as well and he’d texted you half an hour ago that he’d be there in 30 minutes. You run to your room to check your outfit in the mirror once again. You straighten out the fabric of your skorts and pull at the hem of your sweatshirt.

Casual but cute — you did not want to make it seem as if you dressed up to stay at home but you figured you could at least look a bit presentable. You touch up your lipgloss and convince yourself it’s strictly to protect your lips from cracking due to the cold.

When the bell rings, you feel as if the inside of your stomach does a backflip. You hurriedly walk out of your room and see Mia at the door, welcoming Choso in. He’s wearing a vivid indigo blue sweater with black sweatpants. The feeling in your stomach returns when you observe his soft hair pushed back and tucked behind his ears with a few tiny strands kissing his forehead.

He gives her a side hug as he hands her a long black box wrapped with a golden ribbon. You walk towards them and you swear you see his smile grow when he looks at you. He puts his hand out to you and you grab it. With a smooth movement, he pulls you to him while his other arm wraps around your shoulder. The hug is brief yet it makes you feel giddy.

Shit. Staying platonic with him is going to be one hell of a task.

“...hope it won’t be awkward for your other friends.” your thought breaks when you hear him talk to Mia.

“No, not at all! Don’t worry, they’re all pretty chill!” Mia reassures him. Choso has met your group a handful of times so they are, what one would consider, mutuals, but he’s only friends with you and Mia in the real sense of the word.

“What did you get?” you ask him, looking at the wrapped box in Mia’s hands. He gestures for her to open it. Her smile grows as she pulls out the big bottle of scotch, waving it around in excitement.

“Thank you for aiding my borderline alcoholism with my drink of choice.” she jokes as she bows at him.

“Always glad to help.” he laughs as he bows his head to mimic her. You smile to yourself, happy that he’s so attentive and considerate of everyone close to him. “By the way, where do I keep my bag?” he asks, sliding his backpack off his shoulder.

“You can keep it in my room… everyone is probably going to dump everything there since Mia’s room has their precious xbox setup.” you say as he smiles and makes his way to your room. Mia goes to the kitchen to keep the bottle somewhere it’s safe and sound.

When Choso returns, he observes the decks of multiple card games, arranged on the table. There’s Dobble, Monopoly Deal, UNO, and chess as well. You had to restrain yourself from bringing out all the other games you had since you did not want to overwhelm your friends with too many options.

“Which one is your favourite?” he asks.

“Kamo… would you pick favourites if you ever had kids?” you retort.

“Yes.” he says with a straight face, “now, answer me.” His tone makes you snort but you grab the tin with the Dobble cards as you explain how it works. Mia returns from the kitchen and you offer her to join your game but she makes up some excuse to go back to her room, leaving you alone with Choso. You have a feeling she’s going to try to manufacture such moments for the two of you throughout the whole weekend.

You have three clean wins before Choso starts getting frustrated at his loss. “How on earth can you spot them so quickly!?”

You shrug, smug about your wins. When you draw the next hand, the bell rings and you turn your head to look towards the door. Mia comes out to get it and you hear Choso yell, “GOT IT!” causing you to turn back to the cards.

“Hey! It doesn’t count, I wasn’t paying attention.” you complain.

“Not my fault. We’d drawn the cards already.” he says, grinning with a pleased look on his face. You know he's not going to concede so you let it go.

“I wasn’t aware we were allowed to bring plus one this time?” you hear Satoru’s voice behind you. You turn around to roll your eyes at him. He’s leaning down to your side with a wide grin and his arms extended. You hook your arm around his waist to give him a side hug.

“I invited him, he’s replacing you since you’re so busy nowadays.” Mia speaks up and you press your lips to keep yourself from laughing. He presses his hands to his chest dramatically as if Mia’s words have physically wounded him.

You crinkle your nose to cringe at him and you sense Choso looking at you. But as soon as you look back at him, he turns his head down as he grabs all the cards to put them back in the tin.

“Quitting already?” you tease him. He looks up at you and smirks, “No, there’s enough people to play Monopoly now. You just wait and watch how I smoke you.”

“What makes you so sure? You don’t know who you’re up against.” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hmmm… wanna bet?” He challenges you.

You smile cockily, “Deal, what’s at stake?”

“Oh, nothing too bold… maybe just your heart and soul.” he teases you. You bite the insides of your cheeks to keep yourself from blushing at his comment and break eye contact to lean towards the table to grab the deck of Monopoly Deal.

You fail to notice that Satoru had already started drawing conclusions based on the tiny interaction he witnessed between you and Choso. As he walks to the kitchen with Mia, he half whispers, “Is it just me o-”

“Nope. you’re seeing it right.” she interrupts him.

“Since when did Choso, of all people, get so close with her?” he inquires.

“Haha, blondie… you have no idea!” Mia chuckles, amused. “Why? You jealous?”

He snickers at her question, “No.”

“Good.”

The conversation ends there and he knows better than to push it further. As the duo returns, carrying four glasses of homemade lemonade mixed with vodka, you jump up to walk towards them to grab two of them and hand one to Choso. He thanks you with a smile and you return it.

When Mia suggests it, you all sit on the floor around the table comfortably as you distribute the cards for everyone.

When you win the first game of Monopoly, you stick your tongue out at Choso. He didn’t seem to mind losing at all, nonetheless, he feigned hurt, “Damn, do I really need to give you my heart and soul now?”

With the alcohol getting to you, you felt brave enough to flirt with him as you replied back in an instant, “I thought you’d already given your heart to me?”

His eyebrows raise up in surprise as he lets out a chuckle. He drags your name out as he speaks, “You know I consider myself to be a romantic of sorts, but that’s too cheesy even for me!” you slap his arm as both of you start laughing as if it’s the funniest thing ever, almost forgetting that Mia and Satoru are right there in the room with you two.

You only turn to look at Satoru when he clears his throat. “Oh right… When is the rest of the gang getting here?” you ask Satoru.

“Check the group chat, they’ve texted.” he replies curtly. And you can’t help but feel as if he’s acting a bit cold. Usually you’d brush it off as just overthinking, or blame it on the alcohol but you’re certain that throughout the game, he has been actively ignoring you.

The awkwardness of the situation dissipates a little when Shoko, Kento and Suguru arrive about an hour later. When the clock strikes midnight, everyone hands Mia their presents but everyone is too drunk to care what the others have gotten her.

You’d be lying if you said you remembered anything about the events of Friday night through Sunday morning. The photos and videos on your phones are the only evidence you have of a time well spent. There was a lot of gossip, cheating at card games, fighting for turns on the Xbox, laughing at shit jokes, crying at sappy hallmark movies and an incident where you and Mia almost set the kitchen on fire, trying to bake a batch of brownies for everyone. You were barred from entering the kitchen all day after that and it was followed by a long debate about how it was against your rights as owners to be banned from your own kitchen. You gave up on trying to forcefully enter the kitchen after a while, since five people against two wasn’t really a fair battle.

So Sunday morning, it was a collective decision to stay sober to avoid being hungover at work the next day. Not like you guys had a choice anyway, since all the booze had been wiped out in the last 36 hours, not even Choso’s fancy scotch had survived the night. It was all a haze, to say the least.

Although you vaguely remember Choso and you sharing a few moments alone from time to time, you also remember all of them being interrupted, mostly by Satoru. You make a mental note of wanting to confront Satoru sometime soon.

Sometime soon arrives Sunday evening when Satoru walks in on you and Choso making hot chocolate in the kitchen. You’d been talking to Choso about who had the highest tolerance among the group.

You’re pressed to his side with your head resting on his shoulder as he leans against the counter. “...far from it. You’re a lightweight!” Choso calls your bullshit.

“No, listen… I vibe easily, I don’t get drunk easily. There’s a difference.” you protest.

He pinches your cheek, teasing, “okay baby… whatever you say.”

You try to elbow him but stop your movement when you hear Satoru enter the kitchen, “Are you making hot chocolate?”

You’re slightly annoyed at his feigned innocence since you’d already asked the entire group if they wanted hot chocolate, like, 5 minutes ago. He had declined then.

“Cool, can I get one too?” he asks.

“Sure.” you leave Choso’s side as you grab another mug to prepare the drink.

Sensing the tension, Choso excuses himself politely, “I’m outside, okay?” he squeezes your shoulder before walking out of the kitchen.

“You seem pretty close.” Satoru comments. You put the mug in the oven before you turn around to look at him.

“Satoru… what is it?” you sigh.

“Nothing… I’m just surprised you got over me so quickly.” he says playfully.

Oh, so you’re having this conversation right now.

“You can’t possibly be serious right now? What do you mean moved on? What was there to move on from… you ignoring my feelings and only keeping me on the hook whenever you wanted attention?” you sound far from playful.

“Ouch.” he says quietly. Maybe talking to you about this was a bad idea.

“Look… I’m sorry if me having a crush on you made you uncomfortable. I’d hate for things to be awkward now after being such close friends all these years. But I’m sad that you sort of led me on and toyed with my emotions for your own amusement.” you add as you look down.

There’s a moment of silence. Then Satoru moves towards you to hug you. He pats your head with one hand while the other rubs your back.

“I had no idea that having a crush on me made you so miserable. We’ve always been flirting with each other platonically, I initially thought it was the same thing. When I realised you were serious about it, I figured that maybe it would fade without us needing to address it.” he says softly.

“No, to be honest, I realised quite recently that I don’t really like you like that.” you interrupt him.

“Yeah, no shit. You’ve been flirting with him all weekend.” he laughs. You blush out of embarrassment.

He continues, “But that’s besides the point. I’m sorry, okay? I’ve designated you as my best frien– don’t tell Suguru. I admit I did like the attention so I'm sorry for hurting you, even if it might’ve been unintentional for the most part. ”

You look up at him as you raise your eyebrows at him. Satoru isn’t the kind to apologise easily.

“Gojo Satoru is apologising to me?” you smirk at him.

“Don’t milk it. You know I really mean it, I'm truly sorry. I can also allow you one punch anywhere besides my face and crotch to prove it. I’ll always love you, you’re my homie.” he says pulling you closer into the hug. You wrap your arms around him, smacking the area near his lower back a bit too hard. You catch him by surprise as he jerks away from your touch, letting out a loud ‘ahh’.

“Jeez, what a b–,” he pauses, clearing his throat as he extends his arm out to you, “We’re even now, cool?”

“Okay, cool.” you smile at him. “So, how’s it going with your new girl?”

“Oh it’s pretty chill. Nothing serious though. We like each other but we both agreed that it’s pretty casual.” he explains.

“Really? I was under the impression that you were falling in love and shit.”

“How can I love someone else when I got you?” he teases as he ruffles your hair. You glare at him with a murderous intent.

“I’m kidding!” he adds, laughing, “But no, I’m not falling in love so soon. I always thought I’d fall in love in my mid 30s. Seems like the perfect age to fall in love.”

You shake your head, “Satoru, you dummy… love doesn’t work on your schedule. It happens when it is meant to happen! If you don’t go all the way in, deep in your feels with someone, you won’t even recognize it if love arrives in your life.”

“Okay sensei… seems like you know a lot about going all the way in deep. Is Choso also going in deep?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You cringe at his crass innuendo but nonetheless blush at the mention of Choso’s name.

“Maybe it's none of your business!” you retort. He shrugs as he puts his hands up in defeat.

“Come out soon, we’re gonna watch another romcom.” he says as he walks past you.

“Wait, your hot chocolate?” you ask as you see him walking out of the kitchen.

“Nah, on second thought, I don’t want it anymore.” he says as he leaves. You stand there as you watch him go, with equal parts amusement and equal parts disbelief.

This is the Satoru you knew, your annoying best friend and not the romanticised version of him you had in your head. You feel peaceful for a split second as you finally sense things return back to normal, before your mind wanders to thoughts of Choso.

Can you redirect your love where it can actually be reciprocated? You’re aware that you’d been growing fond of him with every minute you spend together… but are you certain he’s not just someone you’re using to fill the vacancy in your heart?

~~~

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