#i didn’t feel like getting my book out so!!
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[The Ideal Gaze]
lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻
pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane.
content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times
word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread
a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)
Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway.
The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up.
You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.
It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself.
From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head.
You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying.
You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door.
It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband.
You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display.
In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button.
The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming.
“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island.
Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips.
You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response.
“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest.
You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined.
“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”
You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips.
“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting.
Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment.
When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you.
For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips
“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading.
You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back.
“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”
Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection.
“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you.
With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it.
You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama.
Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom.
He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early.
What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door.
At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself.
He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours.
You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did.
When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues.
You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day.
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek.
“You look gorgeous, honey.”
Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?
You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.
“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.”
You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time.
For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.
You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.
“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven.
“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet.
“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”
“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)
“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.
“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly.
“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.
Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10.
He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”
Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.
Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.
“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.
“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.
“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”
She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.
Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”
You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit.
“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”
“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”
“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.
You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure.
“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.
“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”
You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.
“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone.
“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”
Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”
“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”
“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”
You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”
He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away.
You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.
As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner.
“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile.
“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight.
The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths.
By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms.
You couldn’t ask for anything better.
With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think.
Did today’s small touches mean anything?
You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.
You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it.
You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good.
When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.
He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”
“Yeah! It’s comfy.”
He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much.
He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped.
He just…stopped.
“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?
You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”
He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.
“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn.
“Night.”
You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you.
You’re starting to think the worst.
You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working.
He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time.
Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with.
Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.
Is he cheating on you?
You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had.
So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house.
You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom.
Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.
Miguel yells, scared to death but alone.
“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand.
“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”
“What?”
“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat.
“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?”
“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”
Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”
Miguel sighs.
“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”
“Says who?”
He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”
“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”
He looked like he could cry.
“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp.
“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”
“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”
He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back.
“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.”
So much for communication.
Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”
“You’ve been what?”
“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”
You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.
Your stomach turned with excitement.
“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”
Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.
“Did it feel good?”
Another nod.
“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”
You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.
“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”
“I did?”
“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”
You squeeze at his arms on your sides.
“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”
You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.
“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”
Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.
“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”
With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.
“Can I show you how much I love you?”
“Please.”
With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.
“You like it that much?”
“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”
You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout.
“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”
“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”
You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight.
Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length.
The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep.
You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length.
“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”
You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”
“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”
“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face.
The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better.
You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.
You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him.
“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls.
He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically.
You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”
Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”
He growled as he pulled you closer.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”
He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.
After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.
“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.
“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”
“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”
You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”
Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”
You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”
He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”
You giggle and swing your feet on the way.
After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time.
You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress.
“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”
“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”
You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it.
It was all too much.
First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message.
Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.
“Miguel!”
“Hm? Talk to me.”
“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.
“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”
You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper.
“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”
That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.
“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”
Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you.
You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised.
“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”
“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.
“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”
Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.
“What? You should put your shirt on!”
“That’s not what you said when you-”
“Hush and go get the aloe.”
Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”
Life was wonderfully sweet.
With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵
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More than a weapon
🌸Gojo notices some change in his body due to his domesticated life with you and you love it.
Truly this is just a some self indulging fluff and cheesy romance but I needed it.
Content: Gojo x fem!reader, fluff, Gojo being insecure
“I really let myself go huh?”
You peek your head out of the book you are reading on the bed, watching Satoru look himself in the bedroom mirror, pinching a tiny bit of belly fat on his lower abdomen. This man is still carved like a Greek god, but finally, he has something more than muscles and skin.
“I will need to work on that," he muses absentmindedly, which makes you frown and answer instinctively: “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He raises an amused eyebrow at your intense declaration, looking at you with a teasing smile. “You like this, Babe?”, he demands with a chuckle while you let go of your book, getting up to embrace him. He doesn’t resist when you wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.
"Yes, I do”, you state firmly with a pout, tightening your grip almost protectively.
“Yeah?”, he insists with a smile in his voice while he gently pets your hair.
“Yes…”, you assert, inhaling his scent, his odor is still discernible despite the flowery perfume of your soap. He always washes with your soap, and you love that. “I am working very hard for this, you know...”
He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrating against your face. “Are you trying to fatten me, my love?”, he says with a teasing voice.
“Not particularly”, you answer softly, feeling some kind of happy melancholia, “but this little belly, it’s proof of all the time you stayed hugging me on the bed instead of exercising...”, you start, peppering his rock hard abs with kisses. “… of all the time you stayed watching a movie with me instead of babysitting the whole sorcery world…” In your eyes, his body being slightly more relaxed is proof of your years of domesticated life together, and you cherish it.
You breathe deeply, digging a bit more your fingers in his back, noticing his hands had stopped petting you. In fact, he is really quiet, which is abnormal for him, and you raise your head to look at him. He appears so vulnerable right now that you feel your heart drop.
“I am allowed?”, his voice is barely a whisper, carrying so much emotions. So much fragility. You wished you had the strength to hug him harder. You wish you weren’t so small and you could shield him in your arms like he does with you. “Yes, yes you are, my love, of course you are. You are allowed to live for yourself… to let yourself go”, you affirm, echoing his first words.
“There are a lot of people counting on me, you know…”
You pout at his protestation, finally letting go of his torso to grab his cheeks. “I know, I am not telling you to stop saving the world, just that your whole life doesn’t have to revolve around your work.”
He seems deep in thought, hesitant, and you cut all further protestation by getting on your toes to plant a kiss on his face, until he is the one lifting you so he can kiss you back, loosing himself on your lips with a tranquil passion. There is no hurry in this kiss, just prolonged contact and devoted tenderness until he withdraws his head to contemplate you, his hands still grabbing you by the waist and upper thighs. There is so much love in those blue eyes, but also some doubts lingering.
“What are you worrying about, love?”, you ask softly, knowing he is still tormented. He looks confused, mumbling a bit as he thinks about it seriously for a moment. You don’t press him, caressing his hair gently in a soothing motion. Only an indecent amount of patience and love can make a man like him voice his insecurities.
“Useless… I don’t want to become useless.”, he finally admits lifting you a bit higher so he can bury his face on your chest and hide how troubled he looks right now.
He didn’t say powerless, or weak. He said “useless”. You contemplate his words for a second before kissing the top of his head affectionately. You still have a lot of work to do.
“You are not a weapon Satoru Gojo, you are a person, my lover, an incredible teacher, and a funny and passionate man. You don’t have to be useful, you have so much more to bring to the world than muscles and powers.”
You feel his grip tightening a bit on your body, almost painfully, but you don’t mind, closing your eyes while you dig your fingers into his hair.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me yet, I will just repeat it until you know you are enough, you are wanted, you are loved strongest or not.” You hammered with an unwavering voice, holding all your stubborness for things that truly matter.
“Alright, alright”, he finally relents, his emotions vibrating in his voice but coated with sweetness. You look down at him, watching him lift his eyes out of your chest. “I believe you”
You smile proudly, borrowing his signature cocky smirk, which makes him smile fondly in return. Still holding you with one hand, he removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you with love. “I guess as long as I am strong enough to do that, it’s okay.”
You lift an eyebrow at his mischievous grin forming behind the tenderness. “Do what?”
Before you finish your sentence, he is making you twirl in the air into his arms, and you gasp, clinging at his hair to not fall with a delighted chuckle he soon echoes.
Yes, it was more than enough.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#satoru fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n
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hi! can you do something with aaron and like a younger next-door neighbour and they're kinda secretly and newly dating and something with Jack goes wrong and reader helps fix it so aaron is just so in love and asks if he can tell jack and it's just super fluffy and cute!
Anyway, thank you so much, i love your writing!!!!
i love this idea so much!
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telling him- a.hotchner
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a/n: i got nothin.
summary: jack can't go to school, so you swoop in and become aaron's hero, he asks two pretty important questions.
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: none
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Aaron didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d left the BAU. Jack was 11. He had a pre-teen who he’d just moved across the country and changed his entire life.
What the fuck were they doing in San Francisco?
Aaron was a lecturer now, on law in Stanford. Jack attended a new school, much to his dismay.
And then there was you. The gorgeous woman who lived next door to them. You were a lecturer as well, nuclear physics but you were often mistaken for a student, considering you were only 25. You’d been very kind to him since he started work there, and even had had them over for dinner a couple of times.
--------------------------------
“I don’t wanna go!” Jack exclaimed, arms crossed.
“Jack, I have work in 45 minutes, my students are taking the bar exam, and you know your babysitter is out of town, you have to go to school,” he sighed, feeling helpless. Doing this alone had been the hardest part. He had to leave the family he had, the entire team, and his life behind.
“But they’re mean!” he sobbed into his dad’s chest. “They make fun of me for not having a mom…”
Aaron’s heart broke. He didn’t want to send his kid into school if he was being bullied, and he made a mental note to speak to his teachers.
“Hey guys,” your kind voice filled the house from downstairs. Aaron had given you a key just a few weeks ago. “Ready to go?”
Aaron looked at the time on his watch, it was exactly when you all carpooled to school, then work.
“Up here!” Jack shouted down to you as he cried into his dad’s shoulder, ruining his suit. Aaron could hear your footsteps up the stairs and he braced himself for any judgy looks.
Judgy looks which never came.
“Poor Jack,” you sighed, rubbing his head. “What’s going on?”
“The kids at school laugh at me because I don't have a mommy anymore,” he cried, getting up and giving you a hug. You sent Aaron an empathetic look and hugged Jack back.
“That is awful Jack, how about this. You come to work with me and your dad, my lectures don’t start ‘till later so you can hang out with me and I know someone who works at your school, so if you tell me your teacher’s name I can get the lesson plan for today and we can work through it in my office, does that sound good?”
Jack nodded his head furiously and hugged you harder, his tears subsiding.
Aaron’s heart could’ve exploded. You were so kind. You two had only been on a few dates in recent weeks, you hadn’t told Jack yet, but you were so caring.
He mouthed a ‘thank you’ in your direction and you shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do’.
Aaron ran into his room, pulling on a new suit jacket to replace the one soiled by Jack’s tears, grabbed his briefcase, and followed you out to the car. You’d called your friend at his school and gotten the information so Jack had his school books in his bag. You drove them to the Stanford campus, explained to your supervisor who told you it was alright, and departed for the day, Jack’s hand in yours. Aaron walked over to his building, and you stayed in yours, sending him updates throughout the day. You made the majority of your lectures for the day either study lectures, or just cancelled lectures so you could keep a close eye on Jack. You even allowed three of your most responsible students to teach Jack some maths.
At the end of the day, Jack fell asleep on the couch in your office while you were busy cleaning up your lecture hall.
“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled from the door.
“Hi love,” you smiled back. “How was your day? Did anyone faint in the exam hall?”
He crossed over to you in three quick strides and pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply. You were so kind, you’d taken care of Jack all day for him, you’d made him feel less alone in the most isolating time of his life, and you were his. Well, maybe, he hadn’t exactly asked yet. “No one fainted, but a few did vomit before coming in.”
“Poor them,” you sighed. “Jack was fine all day, no issues.”
“Have I told you how wonderful you are?” He smiled and you chuckled.
“A few times, sure,” you teased. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Aaron smiled and moved one of his hands to cup your cheek. “You’re wonderful.”
You smiled back at him, pecking his cheek. “Well, good thing we have a date on Friday.”
“I want to tell Jack,” He admitted. “About us.”
You nodded. “You’re sure? It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure. He loves you anyways, what’s the worst that can happen?” He asked, pressing kisses to your neck as he spoke.
“Umm- He could hate both of us because he feels like we’re replacing your and Haley’s relationship, he could start to resent you if we break up, he could hate me, the list goes on-”
“Don’t let it,” he smiled. “I have spent my whole life making calculated and deliberate decisions, even if I knew those choices wouldn’t make me happy. I want to be happy now, with you and Jack,” he admitted. In recent months you’d taught him the value of being slightly selfish, despite his altruistic tendencies.
“Alright, whatever you say love,” you smiled and kissed him again, then went back to your desk to gather your things.
“I also want to ask you something,” he stated and when you turned around you saw a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You chuckled softly and smiled, the sweetness of the moment warming your heart. “Yes, Aaron, I will be your girlfriend.”
He grinned when you accepted and his hands wrapped around your waist as he pressed your lips against his in celebration.
He was happy, truly happy. For the first time in a long time.
And it was all thanks to you.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#bau team#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction
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hi !! i saw that your requests were open and i'd really love if you wrote something with james (or poly!m !!) with a gn!reader taking up literature in uni who tends to get back pains from being hunched over reading and writing almost all hours of the day (definitely not projecting, hehe!)
i love the stuff you write and everythings just so sweetly written and portrayed so lovely !! thank you for keeping the marauders fandom alive lol
Thank you ml <3
modern au
poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 709 words
James plops down beside you on the couch, and when he pokes your spine you straighten reflexively.
“Sorry,” you mumble, only half in the room as the rest of your brain continues working on your essay.
“Are you really not done yet?” Sirius asks, putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You start typing faster. They’re going to want to start the movie soon, and then your laptop is going to be wrested away from you whether you’ve reached a stopping point or not. “I can’t remember the last time I spent more than a couple hours on an essay. You’ve been laboring over that thing all day.”
“It’s a long one,” you admit, “but it’s hardly labor.”
“Sure looks like it, when your back is hunched worse than a coal miner’s.”
You give him a deadpan look. Sirius glances down at your fingers, still typing rapidly, and shudders.
“Fucked how you can do that.”
“Literature students might be the new coal miners,” says James.
You hum dubiously, looking back to your work. “Not sure that’s a super fair comparison.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t quite say that,” Remus agrees with you, “but it’s not like you’re not doing yourself any harm when you write all day like this, love. Your back is already hurting you—”
“You’ll probably get carpal tunnel,” James adds.
“—and I know looking at your laptop for this long gives you headaches.” Remus’ slow strides into the living room feel like a countdown clock. You manage to hammer out the end of your sentence just before he pulls your laptop out from under your fingers. “If you’re not careful, it’s gonna fuck up your sleep. That’s enough for tonight.”
You sigh but don’t complain, rolling back your shoulders to ease some of the tautness there. Your spine crackles, quicker and louder than the popcorn popping in the kitchen, and James flinches away from you.
“God, make it stop,” he pleads.
You ignore him and roll your neck to the side, eliciting a series of cracks from there too. James makes a dramatically horrified sound and squeezes his eyes shut, and Remus grabs your head in both hands, restraining you.
“Don’t,” he tells you severely. “We’ve been over this.”
“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly as he pulls the bag of popcorn from the microwave.
“It hurts,” you complain.
“Sounds like it, fuck,” James agrees emphatically. Now the danger has passed, he leans towards you again, splaying a protective palm over your mid back. “Sirius, could you grab my icy hot from the fridge? Here, lovie, lie down.”
Remus lets go of your face somewhat reluctantly, letting James help you lay across his lap. His hand smooths up and down your spine, pressing down lightly upon muscles rigid with tension. You sort of wish he’d just crush you. You’re sure he could, he doesn’t spend all that time at the gym for nothing.
“I’m gonna get you a back brace,” Remus mutters, fondness under the veneer of resentment in his tone.
“That'd be kind of hot.” Sirius lifts your feet, dropping down onto the couch before passing James the tube of cream. “Those are the strappy looking things, right? I’m for it.”
“I do not consent,” you say clearly, then hiss as James applies the cool balm to your lower back.
He and Sirius laugh. Remus reaches over to press your shoulders back down.
“Easy, angel,” says James. “It’ll help.”
“I didn’t know it’d be this cold,” you defend yourself, a little laugh tripping out of you as well. “You do this voluntarily?”
“You’ll see why in a bit.”
“If I were spending all of my Saturday hunched over my laptop and a bunch of books,” Sirius says, “I think I’d at least use the right ‘your.’ What are they teaching you, babe?”
You suppress a groan. You’d sent Sirius a grammatically incorrect text two days ago, and he’s yet to stop lording it over you.
“That was autocorrect,” you tell him again.
He hums noncommittally, tracing a path up your calf with his forefinger. “I’m just saying, can it really be worth it if we’re making those sorts of mistakes? Will they even still give you your degree?”
“Sirius, their back is getting tense again. Knock it off.”
#poly!marauders#gn!reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x gn!reader#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders one shot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders au#marauders x reader
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Jensen Ackles | Purgatory Con, Düsseldorf, Germany, May 26, 2024, Panel Summary
Most creepy or annoying toy the kids ever had? Slime. It creeps him out. He has it all over his house now. He doesn’t like the texture or feel. But his kids love it. Creepiest? Danneel has an old antique doll. It is old cracked, has creepy eyes and is the devil. (x)
Demon Dean or Soldier Boy, who‘s more powerful? Demon Dean because SB has a traumatized little boy in him and demon Dean is just empty. He‘s more dangerous because he just doesn’t care. (x)
Funniest moment from set of The Boys? Someone yells Herogasm so Jensen says it was probably not the funniest moment but when he arrived on day 3 of the set, Jack Quaid asked if he‘s been on set yet and when it was a no, he said „whoo, good luck“ (x)
People kept mistaking the bottles of lube and the bottles of hand sanitizer. Jensen was not prepared for when filming started and everyone took their robes off. Jensen was not prepared. (x)
Jensen couldn’t not look. They called cut. Jensen was like „I‘m sorry, there’s 4 people over here doing a position I have never seen before.“ His shower was extra long that evening. „There may have been tears.“ (x)
“There’s four people over here in a position I have not seen before!!!” “My shower lasted extra long that evening. And there were tears.” Jensen retelling stories from Herogasm set on #TheBoys (x)
How long did it take him to learn the Arabic phrase for s14? Not long, he can parrot things quite easily. He just needs to hear it a few times, then he can repeat the sounds. It‘s how he learns accents. Tap dance worked like it too. If he can see or hear it, he can emulate it. (x)
Jensen: “I don’t think Cas’s confession is something that needs to be resolved. There is nothing to resolve. He said what he needed to say, it was a long time coming, it was heartfelt and beautiful. But there’s nothing to resolve.” (x) “Dean took it in and then lost one of his closest allies and friends. The accepting of that happened when Dean sat on the floor. He lost one of his brothers in arms and one of his closest people. When they come back, it’s just understood.” (x)
Are there situations where he accidentally or on purpose bring out Dean? Yes. Sometimes he thinks „it would be great to be Dean Winchester right now. He could have handled this.“ Dean is alive in him and comes out from time to time. (x)
Were there fake tears on SPN or did he ever cry? He wasn’t classically trained, so the emotion we see is real. He doesn’t know how to fake it. Compares it to a book or movie making you emotional. You know it’s not real, but it still gets you. (x)
After the s4 scene when Dean confesses to Sam about his 40 years and torturing in hell, he had to walk away because his body didn’t know it was fake. The barn scene was probably the most real, but for different reasons. He was saying goodbye to Dean, Jared, the crew. (x)
Crew members had to leave set because they were crying too. They were trying to dial it down, because it was too much emotion. (x)
When things get too serious? Laughter. It‘s his levee. When things get too heavy, he makes a joke to ease the situation. (x)
„Do you use Jared‘s conditioner?“ No he does not. That’s just what his hair does. (x)
Who inspires you? Jensen doesn’t idolize anyone, but he has a lot of respect for certain people and tries to absorb as much as he can when he meets them. Could be a brilliant scientist, an artist, an actor. (x)
Being cold on set? There was a scene with Bobby where they looked at a map over the hood of the car. Jensen told Bob Singer that it was ridiculous because they would look at the map in their car. But Bob wanted a specific job and told him to just get it done. (x) A few days after he got lasic surgery, he was supposed to wear sunglasses all the time. But he had to film in the sun with light shining in his face. Jensen was in so much pain that Serge covered the white surfaces in black. Didn’t help much. He took ibuprofen and powered through (x)
Dead in the Water when he had to hold the kid up and the diver pulled him under, it was the most eery feeling. He was terrified for the kid. But the kid actor had fun. / End of panel. (x)
(JMacLean)
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Not quite love | CL16
read the full piece here
― Pairing: charles leclerc x friend!reader (she/her)
― Warning: mentions of alcohol and food; friends to lovers; angst; unrequited love; not been proofread yet; 2k words.
― Summary: When you get romantically involved with your best friend you were not expecting a marriage proposal, but simply a commitment. You were sure that what you had wasn’t quite love, though it could be and maybe that’s what hurt the most. The fact that you had everything to be each other’s end game, but turned out to be strangers.
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preview
You and Charles had everything to be the perfect couple.
To have the perfect story.
A book-worthy one.
You were long-time friends.
Though your family wasn’t very fond of him, his family loved you, and that was enough. Over half of your friends in common hinted about you guys getting together. The dynamic was this good from the outside, and so was the tension whenever you were together.
You would share desserts, dance with each other, sleep in the same bed after friends get together –nothing sexual ever happened, and maybe that’s the reason why it was so intimate and ground to tension flourish. It was beyond the physical. At least for you.
It all took a turn when you finally moved to Monaco to study and work.
*****
“Don’t cry, chérrie,” he cooed, lips finding a few droplets of tears and cutting short their path on your cheeks. You turned your head in his direction, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against yours, seeking the solace of it.
The Monegasque read the way your body leaned in, the way your face felt hotter against his lips, and he lined his breathing with yours giving you enough time to pull back, but you didn’t. In fact, you broke the barrier of space between you two, pressing your lips in a feverish kiss. Charles answered in a second, gripping your waist and bringing you impossibly closer. His tongue was demanding, and his body against yours felt different than the other times. More intimate.
“Fucking finally,” you could almost hear your friends with their hands up to the heavens, so you chuckled, ultimately breaking the kiss. Charles grinned.
“If I knew this is all it would take for you to smile I would have greeted you with a kiss,” his teasing earned a giggle from you.
*****
[...] At the end of the day Charles would sleep at your place –or you at his– at least once a week. You would still share movie nights like when you were just friends. He would still send you funny TikTok he watched, and you were still telling him about all the books you read.
Those were things boyfriends and girlfriends did, you knew that, nevertheless, you wanted to believe that he was planning something. Or that maybe he already saw you that way. Maybe he was afraid of the constant travel and the pressure of his career and media. Maybe he was trying to protect you from the fans.
Charles never voiced any of this. Never sat down to talk about it, and you didn’t ask. Not until you graduated and got a job proposal in America. It wasn’t France, Germany, or Sweden, places you knew would be easier to gravitate to Monaco when the schedule let you. It was oceans apart, but it also felt like an opportunity to compromise, to keep your –hopefully official- relationship going.
The thing is, life is unpredictable. You can’t guess what someone is feeling or how they will react. Your mom would always tell you that the heart is unknown ground – a place nobody will ever explore in its plenitude. You only get in the rooms the other allows, and even then inside there are tons of places that not even the owners visited.
To know yourself is hard, and to know the other is even harder.
You didn’t know Charles.
────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this lil sneak peek! I'm sorry I'm a day late with this piece, but I am happy to be publishing it the day our Monegasque won his home race (though it's a sad piece, it's still with him so :D hehe). Make sure to like and reblog to help your fellow writer *mwah*
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#op: patreon preview#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#cl16#millie writes#f1 patreon#f1 imagines#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc angst#millies anniversary#f1 angst#op: patreon exclusive#f1 imagine#friends to lovers to strangers
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9 days of Lancaster Day3: Oblivious
Ruby:*playing games*
Weiss:Ruby, isn’t almost time for you to go to the carnival with Jaune?
Ruby:Yeah in a hour. Why? Need something?
Weiss:No, but shouldn’t you be wearing something nicer than your normal clothes? I get you two are comfortable with each other but shouldn’t you put a little effort into your date?
Ruby:Date? Pfft, we’re hanging out. Jaune and I have never been on a date.
Weiss:You go to the movies together alone.
Ruby:It’s cheaper that way.
Weiss:He’s taking you out to eat.
Ruby:So? That’s normal.
Weiss:You both spent Valentine’s Day together.
Ruby:Y-Yeah, because we’re both single so we decided to make plans.
Weiss:Did you make plans, or did he come to you with plans ready?
Ruby:….Let’s entertain that you’re right-
Weiss:You can borrow my white and red sundress. Also my flats.
Ruby:You could be projecting.
Weiss:There’s a Tunnel of Love.
Ruby:Who said we’ll go on it!?
xxxxxx
Jaune, in a nice blue collard shirt and gray jeans, looks at the carnival map while Ruby eats her cotton candy in deep thought.
Ruby:(This all seems pretty normal. Ugh, can’t believe I let Weiss get in my head.)
Jaune:Any other rides you have your eyes on?
Ruby:I’m fine eating funnel cake all day. Anything is okay in my book.
Jaune:In that case…why don’t we try Tunnel of Love since it’s here?
Ruby:….Jaune is this a date?
Jaune:H-Huh!? I mean- sorta? If that’s fine with you.
Ruby:Why didn’t you phrase it like one then when we made plans!? *waves cotton candy at him*
Jaune:We both wanted to go and I didn’t want to say something stupid and make it feel weird.
Ruby:What’s weird and stupid about a date with you! I’d be over the shattered moon to date y-….. *red*
Jaune:*blushing*……
xxxxxxx
Ruby:*walks into dorm slowly*
Weiss:*studying* How was the carnival?
Ruby:We made out behind the funnel cake stand.
Weiss:*drops pen*…..I beg your pardon?
Ruby:May I keep this dress?
Weiss:I beg your pardon!?
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Snail important question;
Of any line-up of characters of your choice-
Who do you think is attracted to competency,
Who is attracted to stupidity,
Who can go either way,
And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;
Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships
Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?
Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face
Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face
)
Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?
(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)
I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.
Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.
Competency, Stupidity, Duality
Masterlist here
Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+
Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.
Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.
Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.
Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training
Competency: Eustass Kid
When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma.
Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.
After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you.
He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others.
Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.
“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.”
“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.
“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.” You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness.
“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”
Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro
“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.
“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?”
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you.
“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace.
“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.”
“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.”
As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again.
Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours.
“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips.
“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”
Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer
Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.
“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?”
Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud.
“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.
“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you.
“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty.
“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture.
You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward.
“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone.
“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh.
“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”
#one piece#x reader#roronoa zoro#eustass kid#massacre soldier killer#one piece drabbles#gn!reader#kid x reader#zoro x reader#killer x reader#op drabbles#one piece x reader#op x reader#one piece x you#one piece fluff#ask snail#snail answers
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hi mira can i pls req a sae x reader and it’s like falling in love with someone. like you know that feeling when you’re really getting to know someone and it sounds like a soft song
i love uu take care x
── SEABIRD
Synopsis: Thanks to a chance encounter on the beach, you spend your vacation trying to apologize to the famous soccer player you inadvertently offended. Unfortunately, Sae Itoshi has other plans.
Event Masterlist
Pairing: Sae x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 11.6k
Content Warnings: love at first sight, fluff, humor, teasing as a love language, sae does not understand emotions or relationships but he’s rich asf, reader has a little brother and loves eating, meet-cutes, summer romance, SEAGULLS
A/N: although sae is a difficult character for me to get a hold of, i ended up having fun with this LMAO as i’m sure you can tell by the massive word count 😭 i hope he’s not horribly ooc or anything and that this is kind of what you were looking for anon!! tysm for requesting and ily too <3
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
You tried to evaluate the series of choices you had made which had led to you lying atop a boy with green eyes and sand smeared across his cheeks, a blank expression on his face despite the way you were literally sprawled over him.
First: your family had decided to spend your summer vacation in Spain. This was innocuous and broad enough, considering how large the country was, so you concluded that your brother’s desire to practice his rudimentary Spanish in a more realistic setting than his high school classroom could not be blamed for your plight.
Second: your father had gotten a great deal on rooms in a luxury beachfront hotel. He was like a bloodhound when it came to haggling and discounts, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were staying in such a nice place for a relatively cheap price — and with a complimentary breakfast every morning, too! Anyways, the hotel had its own private pool that you could’ve been lounging around beside, so that probably wasn’t the cause, either.
Third: your mother had told you that the beach within walking distance of the hotel was famous for its smooth waters and pale sand. You had to visit at least once, according to her and every other travel guide written about the region, but since no one had wanted to go with you, you had decided to go alone, bringing a book, a bottle of sunscreen, and a blanket with you, throwing a dress on over your swimsuit and preparing yourself to spend the entire day soaking in the sun’s rays. This was definitely a contributor to your current predicament, although considering the miles of beach that stretched out in both directions as far as the eye could see where you could’ve been instead of right there, it wasn’t the sole factor.
Fourth: you had thought you would get hungry at some point and had had the foresight to bring a sandwich with you. That was definitely the reason. If only you hadn’t been so concerned with your stomach! If only you had just sucked it up and made the trek back to the hotel upon feeling peckish instead of being so lazy and planning ahead, you wouldn’t be in this situation.
“Can you get off of me?” the boy groaned.
“I am so sorry!” you said, scrambling to your feet and offering him your hand. He did not take it, standing on his own and doing his best to wipe the sand from his face. Then he shook his head like a dog, shaking out the grittiness from his soft hair. “I’m really sorry. I was just running so fast, and I was so worried about my sandwich that I didn’t notice you were there until it was too late!”
“Sandwich?” he said. A few paces away, a seagull landed, the remnants of your lunch held in its beak. You and the boy watched as it tilted its head back, swallowing the last few bites before cawing at you in satisfaction.
“You pig!” you shouted, pointing at it, the boy beside you temporarily forgotten as you fumed over the loss. It cocked its head at you. “That was mine!”
“Ah,” the boy said. “Your sandwich.”
The seagull hopped towards you, like it was teasing you or something, and you screeched before diving at it. Satisfied with the mischief it had caused and the food it had stolen, as well as with making a fool out of you, the seagull took wing, flying well out of reach and leaving you facedown on the ground, your stomach grumbling sadly and emptily.
A foot nudged against your rib cage. “Hey. Sandwich girl. You’re not concussed, are you?”
Being referred to as sandwich girl was so humiliating that you were instantly pushing yourself into a sitting position, folding your arms across your chest as you gazed up at the boy, who still wore that same unimpressed expression from when you had barreled into him.
“No,” you said.
“That’s great,” he said, though he did not sound particularly concerned nor relieved. “Mind elaborating a bit more on why you ran me over? You could’ve seriously injured me, and then you would’ve been in a bunch of trouble.”
“You would’ve been in a bunch of trouble,” you mocked, making your voice high and smarmy. “Jeez, what are you, some kind of celebrity or something? I ran you over because I was taking a break from reading my book, and I realized that I was hungry. Well, luckily, I had brought a sandwich along with me, so it wasn’t a huge deal. I was just about ready to dig in, when that fat pig of a bird swooped down and stole it right out of my hands! The gall! The shamelessness! It was definitely laughing at me, and I can’t stand anyone who laughs at me, so naturally I took off in pursuit, and, uh, that’s how I ended up crashing into you. Though you really should’ve been paying more attention, too. What’s so fascinating about the horizon that you just blocked out the rest of the world for it?”
“I like looking at the ocean,” he said. “But, wait. What do you mean, some kind of celebrity? Don’t you know who I am?”
You gave him a once-over. He was tall, though not impressively so, and definitely well-muscled. His hair was a warm shade, and his green eyes were framed with long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked. A pair of sunglasses was perched atop the crown of his head, and the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, lending him a breezy appearance.
“You’re not handsome enough to be an actor, so that can’t be it,” you said, chewing on your lower lip in thought. “Plus, I’ve seen a bunch of movies, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t been in any of them, so if you were in the film industry, you’d be a D-lister at best, and there’s no way you’d want to flex that kind of status.”
He furrowed his brow, the first hint of a different expression than the one he had kept for the entirety of your very brief acquaintance. “What?”
“What else are people famous for?” you said. “Oh! Are you a singer or something? Were you in that one boy band from a few years ago? I’m sorry, I was too busy having a ‘not-like-other-girls’ phase when they were popular, so I never got into them. I’m over the phase now, if you were wondering, but that would be why I didn’t recognize you.”
“You are amazingly off the mark,” he said.
“I am? I’m kind of out of ideas at this point, though. Can I have a hint or something?” you said.
“Do you watch soccer?” he said. You made a face.
“Hell no,” you said. His eye twitched, so you hurried to elaborate. “My little brother is obsessed with it, so by law, I’m required to hate everything related to the sport. Do you have any siblings? You’d get it if you did.”
“Ask your brother about Sae Itoshi,” he said.
“Okay,” you said, drafting a text to your brother and sending it when you had deemed it to be a perfect blend of uninterested and cool while also underscoring the urgency of the request. “So, your name’s Sae Itoshi? I’m Y/N L/N! I’m not a celebrity, though. If you text anyone and ask them about me, they’ll probably be pretty confused.”
“Yeah, I got that impression,” he said. Your phone vibrated in your hand, and when you looked at the notification, you saw that it was from your brother.
uglier sibling: no shit i know about sae itoshi. he’s that one super talented midfielder on re al. he’s dad and i’s fav player atm.
You gulped, glancing up at Sae before returning to your phone.
me: lol wtf is re al.
uglier sibling: it’s madrid’s team lmfaooo dumbass how do you not know that
uglier sibling: actually wait why are u even asking lol
uglier sibling: did u meet him or something
me: funny story actually!
uglier sibling: WHAT
uglier sibling: y/n are u with sae itoshi rn.
uglier sibling: y/n answer pls
uglier sibling: can you at least get his autograph for me or smth???
Pretending like you were still texting your brother, you typed the name Sae Itoshi into your phone’s search engine. The photos that came up matched the boy in front of you, and the news articles made your heart pound. He actually was a celebrity, and furthermore, his earlier arrogance was deserved. If you had somehow injured such a famous player and put him out of commission for the season, then you really would’ve been done for. It hadn’t been an exaggerated sense of self-importance but an honest evaluation of himself.
“Ahem,” you said, feigning a cough to appear dignified and mature. “It seems like you are a pretty well-known soccer player, Mr. Itoshi.”
“It seems like I am,” he said.
“My brother and dad are big fans, apparently,” you said.
“Good thing you didn’t take me out permanently, then, or I’m sure they would’ve been pretty disappointed,” he said.
You cringed. “I’m sorry again.”
“Whatever. I won’t hold it against you; all’s well that ends well, after all,” he said.
“I feel really bad, though,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
“You didn’t do anything, so there’s nothing to make up for,” he said.
“Not true! I knocked you over and said you’re not handsome!” you said. “I’d say that warrants some kind of recompense.”
“It’ll warrant more recompense if you keep saying it,” he said.
“You agree that you deserve payment, then? Great! Um…how about I…buy you lunch?” you said, the insistent pangs of your stomach reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.
“Is food the only thing you can think about?” he said.
“For your information, it is not, but I haven’t eaten since the morning, so I’m hungry,” you said.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m not interested, and just so you know, I’ve been asked out by plenty of girls, but by far, this has been the lamest attempt.”
You supposed, looking back, that it did seem like that was your end goal. But, of course, it had been nothing of the sort; you were just planning on going to eat yourself and thought that you might as well kill two birds with one stone. It was just your luck that he had twisted your words into such a request, though! How were you supposed to maneuver yourself out of this position? If you denied it furiously, then it would seem like you were just ashamed at getting caught, but if you didn’t say anything, then it would be akin to agreeing with his accusation.
There was only one way out of it, and even though you were usually opposed to lying, and even more opposed to bullying others, it was the only thing you could think of. So, bowing your head, you clasped your hands together in front of your heart.
“I’m sorry, but you’re not my type, Mr. Itoshi,” you said. “Like I said, you’re really not that handsome. Also, I’m into tall guys.”
That was how you found yourself sitting across from Sae Itoshi in a private booth at a fancy restaurant, your hands trembling as you read over the menu items and their associated prices.
“I’m in the mood for steak,” Sae said, stroking his chin and setting down his menu, interlacing his fingers and raising his eyebrows at you. “What about you?”
“Steak is a dinner item, don’t you think?” you said, your head spinning at the fact that he had picked the most expensive thing that was served at the entire establishment. “It’s lunchtime.”
“I’m an athlete,” he said seriously. “I need a lot of protein in all of my meals. Especially because I’m so short. It’s important for me to build muscle, don’t you agree? How else will I manage to compete with the taller, better-looking players?”
“Steak it is,” you said with a faux smile. “As for me, I’ll just get crackers.”
“Crackers? What kind of lunch is that?” he said.
“An affordable one,” you muttered under your breath.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing!” you said. “It’s nothing. I just really like crackers.”
He gave you an odd look. “Alright.”
You waved the waiter over. He had been hovering around your table for the past few minutes, and as soon as he saw you beckoning him, he sprinted to your side, fumbling with his pen and notepad before reaching you and bowing.
“Sae Itoshi, sir! I’m sorry to interrupt your date, but I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of yours. If — if it’s not too much trouble, could I have your autograph?” he said.
Sae sighed, a long-suffering and irritable sigh. “Just take our order first. I’ll give it to you after we’ve eaten.”
“Oh, my apologies,” the waiter said. “What would you like?”
“I’ll have the steak, and I also want this sandwich, but omit the tomatoes, please,” he said, pointing at the menu items he wanted.
“Got it,” the waiter said. “What about you, miss?”
“Just the crackers,” you said. The waiter paused, but when you did not say anything more, he giggled nervously.
“Would you, uh, like some cheese with those?” he said.
“Nope,” you said. “I’m really the biggest fan of plain crackers. That’s all I want.”
“Sure, miss, if that’s what you’d like,” he said. “So, one steak, one sandwich, and a plate of crackers?”
“That’s right,” Sae said, hardly looking up from his phone when he did so. It was only once the waiter had run off to place your orders that he put the device away, resting his elbows against the table, setting his chin in his hands and giving you a bored look. “Why are you glaring at me?”
“Steak and a sandwich, really?” you said.
“A conversation with you was more than enough to increase my appetite,” he said. “Forget about that. This is the part where you ask me questions about myself and I pretend like I am interested enough to answer them.”
“Why would I do that?” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure your answer to that question will be something that makes me even more annoyed than I already am, so don’t bother. What’s your favorite movie?”
“You’re not going to ask me about soccer?” he said. “It’s Taxi Driver, by the way.”
“I don’t know that much about soccer, so what would I even ask? Based on what I’ve seen from the matches my brother and dad watch, it’s just a bunch of sweaty guys kicking around a ball and pretending like they’re dying whenever another player happens to look at them the wrong way,” you said. “Oh, actually, I am curious about that. How many of those injuries are real? Have you ever faked getting hurt?”
“Almost none of them,” he said. “Generally, players will overreact for the sake of entertainment and the possibility of the opposition receiving yellow cards. I’ve never needed to do anything like that, and I never want to, because it looks stupid. Also, soccer is more than that mediocre description you just gave me.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you said. “Man kick ball. Ball go in net. Man happy. That’s the extent of it.”
“Women play soccer, too,” he said.
“It’s the same concept there, but with women instead of men. Not the argument you thought it was,” you said.
“I can’t believe you actually dislike soccer,” he said.
There was definitely some irony in the fact that you couldn’t care less about his chosen sport, and yet you were the one who had somehow finagled your way into eating with him — even if you were the one who was paying. There were so many people who’d do anything to be in your place, but to you, it was a begrudging chore that you were only performing because you felt obligated to. Mentally, you had already marked the entire encounter down as something that you’d laugh about to your friends later; a fun story you’d tell at parties, but little else.
“Like I told you earlier, I’m the older sister. If I didn’t rag on my brother’s interests, then I couldn’t claim that title in any way that mattered,” you said. Sae’s eyes flicked down to the ground.
“You should be nice to your brother when you can,” he said.
“Are you some kind of an only child or saint, then? There’s no way you’re saying that if you have a normal relationship with any possible siblings,” you said.
“I have a little brother,” he said. “Our relationship is okay. I haven’t seen him in a while, though.”
“Long distance?” you said, reaching over to pat him on the hand sympathetically. “That’s the worst. I miss my friends and my pets already, and I’m only here for vacation.”
He snatched his hand away. “You make it sound like we’re dating or something. It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be the same as it was whenever I go back.”
“True, it’s not like he can dump you and find a new brother who’s both better and more conveniently located than you are. He’s kind of stuck with you forever,” you said.
“Enough about my brother,” he said. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay,” you said. “What TV shows do you watch when you’re bored?”
The two of you continued on in that mindless manner until your food arrived. Your mood, which had steadily been rising as Sae proved himself to be, if nothing else, a willing conversationalist, rapidly plummeted as the waiter set the steak and sandwich in front of Sae and the crackers in front of you.
“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said.
“I’m sure one of us will,” you said, picking up a cracker and biting into it rebelliously. Sae began to cut his steak into small pieces, using his fork to demurely place the meat on his tongue, doing nothing to disguise the indulgence of eating such a wonderfully prepared meal while you were stuck with crackers.
“What a shame,” Sae said when he was about halfway through his steak. You hadn’t spoken since the food had come, mostly because you were too busy fervently hoping that he would choke and you would somehow be awarded a free meal as an apology on the restaurant’s part, so you jumped at the sound of his voice cutting through the silence. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat that sandwich after all.”
“We should send it back, then,” you said.
“What sort of place do you think this is?” he said. “It’s already been ordered, so it’s ours now.”
“Are you serious?” you said. “What now? I’ll have to pay for something that you didn’t even eat!”
“You’ll just have to have it,” he said.
“Me?” you said, already salivating at the delectable sandwich, the bread which was taunting you. Come, it seemed to be calling out to you. Eat me. You know you want to. “I guess that’s a sensible prospect. Someone’s going to have to take it.”
“Someone will,” he agreed, sliding the plate across the table and stealing a cracker for his troubles. “It might as well be you. My coach will be pretty upset if I get stomach cramps next season because I overate too much on my off time. I’d have to tell him that it was your fault, and then you’d have all of Re Al after you, and you don’t want that. They’re relentless.”
Your fingers inched towards the sandwich. “I definitely don’t. That sounds scary.”
“It would be amusing,” he said. “A waste of resources, though. They might cut my salary to make up for it. ”
“Then the only solution is for me to eat this sandwich,” you said.
“Essentially,” he said. You gave in, taking an enormous bite of the tantalizing sandwich and exhaling in delight. It really was as good as the exorbitant price tag claimed it would be, and although you would never buy such a thing for yourself, you found that you were a little more grateful for the series of events that had led you to be in this position now that your stomach was finally being greeted with something substantial.
“It’s good,” you said, your words muffled by the napkin you held in front of your mouth as you finished chewing. “I can kind of get why they charge so much now. It’s still way more than any sandwich should ever cost, ever, but…I kinda get it. Is your food good, too?”
“It is,” he said.
“Alright!” you said, giving him a double thumbs up. “Then you can consider this a worthy apology! Let’s finish eating and be done with the entire mess.”
“Hm? But how can it be a worthy apology when I’m the one who paid for everything? To me, that doesn’t sound like an apology at all,” he said. You froze, your mouth wide open, the sandwich still halfway to your mouth and drooping in your hands. Sae looked at you, still expressionless, though if you really focused, you would’ve noticed something like mirth dancing in his irises.
“What do you mean?” you said. He unlocked his phone and showed you his screen.
“You can pay by app here,” he said. “I did it as soon as we were done ordering. I was going to tell you after you ordered what you wanted for yourself, but I wasn’t expecting you to be so frugal that you’d really only order crackers!”
“But — but I was supposed to pay! To apologize for—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Sae said sourly, cutting you off. “Believe me, I remember exactly what you have to apologize for, and I’m not going to forget. I just paid this time because I was feeling generous, but you still owe me.”
It was a little suspicious, but you didn’t have any reason to accuse him of anything, so you only narrowed your eyes at him. Taking another bite of your sandwich, you mulled over the latest reveal. He was paying for the entire lunch? You still owed him? You could manipulate that in your favor, then.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll pay for your breakfast,” you said. “The hotel I’m staying at has complimentary breakfast for guests, but outsiders can eat for a certain fee. I’ll pay for your entrance, and then we can be even.”
“Sure,” he said. “I eat breakfast early, though.”
“How early?” you said.
“I have a snack at 7:00 a.m., before I go for my morning run, and then I eat a proper meal afterwards,” he said.
“Oh!” you said. “Any chance you could not do that?”
“It’s part of my training regimen,” he said. “How about you pay for my food and come on my run with me?”
“I hate running,” you said.
“You’re apologizing. It’s supposed to be an agonizing process,” he said. “You’ve called me short and ugly at least three separate times already, not to mention the entire slamming into me ordeal. It’s really the least you can do.”
“7:00 it is,” you said, though you were fighting back tears at the mere thought of getting up so early while on vacation. “Give me your phone.”
“No way,” he said, holding the phone away from you while you tried to swipe at it. “What are you going to do, post something embarrassing on my social media accounts?”
“Why would I do that?” you said. “I was going to text myself so I had your number and could send you my location for tomorrow.”
“Or you could tell me which hotel you’re staying at now, and then my phone is entirely removed from the equation,” he suggested.
“Do you think I remember the name?” you said. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. I don’t.”
He handed you his phone with an aggravated huff. “Fine. Don’t abuse the privilege. I only give important people my contact information.”
“Woah, you really are stingy,” you said, scrolling through his contacts list. All of them either had the designation of work attached to their profiles, or they were clearly members of Sae’s family.
Clicking on the plus sign in the corner, you created a new contact for yourself, typing in your number and giving yourself the name Y/N L/N — sandwich. It fit the naming conventions he had going on, and if it weren’t for the reminder that you were the so-called ‘sandwich girl’, you doubted he would remember who you were in the first place.
“Of course I am. Imagine I gave every crazy fan I met my number. I’d have a million stalkers before you could say Re Al,”he said.
“I’m not a crazy fan. To clarify, I’m not a fan in the first place,” you said, texting yourself from his number before taking out your own phone and responding to the message with a thumbs up.
“Correct, which is why you get my number,” he said.
“I feel so honored,” you said dryly. “Actually, you know what? I would feel honored, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re only giving it to me because you want to wake me up at an unholy hour and make me run with you before paying for your breakfast.”
“Would you rather pay for this meal?” he said, showing you the receipt he had been emailed. Your eyes widened, and then you shook your head rapidly.
“Nope! See you tomorrow!”
The next morning, you tiptoed around the hotel room as you got ready, trying your best not to wake your mother up. She, and the rest of your family, had been up late last night, going out for dinner and dessert well past your bedtime. Far too embarrassed to tell them the realreason you were going to sleep early, you had said you were sick and went to bed as soon as the sun set.
Angrily gnawing on a granola bar from your mother’s emergency stash, you stomped down the spiraling hotel staircase, your eyes still bleary as you texted your family group chat that you were going out for a morning walk but would be back for breakfast.
Sae Itoshi was waiting for you in the lobby, doing some weird stretching routine that involved pressing his foot against the wall and leaning over it. You watched him, bemused, wondering which muscles he was trying to stretch before giving up and deciding it was probably one of those pro moves that you were too uninterested and unathletic for.
“Oh, you’re here,” he said. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” you said, giving him another one of the granola bars you had taken from your mother’s backpack. “Sorry, it’s sort of smushed. It’s been in a backpack for the last few days.”
He pinched the wrapper between his forefinger and thumb, looking at the granola bar with a disgusted expression. You didn’t think it was thategregious, but according to Sae, it must have been all but an offense against humanity, as he tossed it into the trash can within seconds of having it within his grasp.
“I already ate my snack,” he said.
“Why did you throw that away? I could’ve eaten it!” you said.
“That thing had probably melted and reformed at least twice. It was most definitely radioactive. I did you a favor, so you should say thank you,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Itoshi, for protecting me from the horrors of a slightly misshapen granola bar. I’m sure that, by throwing away that still edible brick of deliciousness, you have done me a great service. Possibly, you have even saved my life. I am eternally grateful,” you said.
He snorted. “You’re terrible at groveling. No wonder you have to do all of this ridiculous stuff to apologize to me instead of just saying sorry and moving on like a normal person.”
“Look, it’s a product of my upbringing,” you said. He finished stretching and headed out of the door; you followed after him with a smile at the hotel concierge, who seemed surprised to watch you go — whether it was the hour or your company, you weren’t sure. “Whenever my parents did something to upset me, they never apologized. They just came to my room with a bowl of fruit they had cut for me.”
“At least you got fruit,” he said. “My parents just told me to go practice soccer until I had cooled off.”
“Wow, really? That’s hardcore,” you said. Sae began to jog, and you did the same, though it was closer to a run for you than anything. “Did you just kick around the ball until you were less mad?”
“Pretty much,” he said.
“How horrible,” you said.
“Eh, it’s fine. It was a good way to get my anger out, and it had the added benefit of making me better at the sport, so it was pretty constructive overall,” he said.
“I still can’t imagine it,” you said, shaking your head. “What’s it like, being a professional athlete? Your entire life revolves around a game. What about when you can’t play anymore? When you’re too old, or if you get injured?”
His upper lip curled. “Do you want that to happen or something? Why are you speaking it into existence?”
“Not the injury part, but everyone grows old. You can’t stop that,” you said.
“I’ll play for as long as I can, and then I’ll coach for longer,” he said. “After that, I’ll retire and make sure my kids follow in my footsteps. Athletes make a lot of money, so I luckily won’t ever have to worry much about my finances.”
“What if your kids don’t want to play soccer?” you said. He actually sneered this time, the expression at home on his cold face.
“What else would they do with themselves? If they don’t want to play soccer, or if they have no talent at it, then they’re definitely not my children in the first place,” he said.
“Hm, maybe cooking? What if they want to be a chef?” you said.
“Then I’d wonder how your kids snuck into my house,” he said. You gasped, though it was as much for breath as it was out of offense.
“Stop it! You just happened to catch me at a hungry time!” you said.
“Sure,” he said.
“Just entertain the hypothetical that you really did somehow father children that were into cooking instead of soccer. How would you react?” you said.
“I would put them up for adoption,” he said.
“Seriously?” you said.
“No, obviously not,” he said. “What kind of person do you think I am? Why did you actually find that to be within the realm of possibility?”
“I think you’re some kind of soccer fiend. Who knows how dedicated you are to the cause?” you said.
“Not that dedicated,” he said. “I’d be disappointed if my kids can’t play soccer, and our relationship would probably be a bit distant, as I don’t know much about anything else, but I wouldn’t disown them.”
“You don’t know much about anything besides soccer? That’s a little sad,” you said.
“Kind of,” he said.
“Do you wish you knew about other things?” you said.
“Everyone has something they specialize in. It’s not uncommon for someone to know a lot about one thing and only a little about others,” he said. “My ‘thing’ is soccer. If it wasn’t that, then it’d be something else, so if I was in the business of wishing, I’d always be unsatisfied.”
You were already panting for breath when Sae picked up the pace, though he had not so much as broken a sweat yet. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your obvious struggles, and then he made the decision to not slow down at all.
“I get it,” you said. “You’ll face no judgment from me.”
“Like I would care if you did judge me,” he said. “You’re already dying, and we haven’t even started running yet.”
“This isn’t running?” you said. “What the hell? How much faster can you even go?”
“If you think that this is anywhere near the pace of an average soccer match, then I don’t even know where to begin with you,” he said.
“You look slower on TV!”
“What, so you think I’m slow, too?”
You and Sae returned to the hotel in markedly different conditions. He wasn’t even warm, still appearing to be perfectly put together and entirely perspiration-free, smelling faintly like body soap and cologne. On the other hand, you were still trying to regain your wits about you, leaning on his shoulder so that you did not fall over from exhaustion.
“This is embarrassing for you,” he informed you as you walked towards the breakfast area.
“You’re a professional athlete and I’m a normal girl! It would be embarrassing for you if I could keep up!” you argued weakly.
“That would be true, if I wasn’t going easy on you,” he said, pulling out a chair for you and helping you into it, brushing his arm off when he was sure you were seated. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”
“Have fun,” you said, resting your head in your hands, already knowing what you wanted to get. “We can walk through the buffet together. I’ll take the time to recover.”
“You do that,” he said.
While he was gone, you opened your phone, catching up on all of the texts in the family group chat that you hadn’t been able to read while you were attempting to run with Sae.
me: going for a morning walk but i’ll be back for breakfast
me: just wanted to let you all know so you weren’t worried!
uglier sibling: yeah nobody was worried LMFAO
mom: Hope you’re feeling better, honey!
dad: Make sure you’re back before 10. That’s when the complimentary breakfast ends, and we’re not paying for overpriced toast with jam.
uglier sibling: i still can’t believe u went for a morning walk
uglier sibling: like
uglier sibling: since when do u voluntarily wake up in the mornings at all let alone leave ur bed LET ALONE TAKE A WALK
uglier sibling: bitches will meet sae itoshi one time and suddenly they’re fitness influencers or wtvr
uglier sibling: btw i’m still mad that u didn’t get his autograph or a photo with him or anything
uglier sibling: i bet u made it up
uglier sibling: LIAR. FRAUD. HACK.
mom: Honey, leave your sister alone. Why would she make something like that up?
dad: Your mother is right. Y/N doesn’t even know who Sae Itoshi is.
So it was a typical conversation, then. You hadn’t missed much; just your brother being salty and your parents showing some care for your well-being, as well as your father worrying for his wallet like he was prone to do. You didn’t even bother responding, just liking your father’s two messages and then putting your phone away.
“Y/N, you’re back already? What good timing!” your father called out to you from the entrance to the hotel restaurant. The world slowed as you turned to see the rest of your family walking into the restaurant, dressed in their typical touristy outfits. Your mother waved at you, and your brother faked gagging.
“Wow, you look like shit,” he said. “The fuck kinda morning walk were you on?”
“Gross, it’s you,” you said. “Go away! I’m busy.”
“You don’t even have any food with you,” he pointed out. “Can I sit with you? The parents are way too chipper in the mornings.”
“No!” you said.
“But there’s an empty seat at your table. Are you saving it for someone?” he said.
“Yes,” you said, wishing that for once they would’ve all slept in instead of getting here at the exact time that you and Sae had.
“No, you’re not,” he said.
“Come on, you two, let’s sit together and have a family breakfast!” your father said, motioning you and your brother over from where he and your mother had settled at a four-person table. Your brother gave you a pleading look.
“I’ll owe you forever,” he said. “I’ll grind on all of your video games for you the entire plane ride home!”
“I’m not lying, dude, I actually am sitting with someone. Now fuck off and leave me alone!” you hissed.
“Who?” he said, crossing his arms. “Your imaginary friend? Or your imaginary boyfriend!”
“Excuse me? Sorry, I was sitting there. Do you mind—?”
The most comical expression you had ever seen flashed over your brother’s face just then. It was horror mixed with incredulity mixed with extreme confusion. He turned slowly, his jaw dropping as he made eye contact with Sae Itoshi, whose dry countenance and perfect posture were as off-putting as ever.
“What?” your brother said. “What is going on?”
Sae sat opposite you. “This hotel has the most confusing first floor layout I’ve ever encountered. It took me ages just to find the bathroom.”
“There’s signs. Can you not read?” you said. He stared at you dully.
“I can read. I just happened not to look up at them,” he said.
“If I didn’t want to pay for even more food, I’d make another short joke, but I shall refrain,” you said.
“That was cutting it close,” he said.
“Y/N. My beautiful, amazing, wonderful older sister,” your brother said.
“Yes?” you said, preparing yourself for the incoming explosion. “Also, that’s not what you were calling me in the group chat earlier, was it?”
“Is that Sae Itoshi?” he said.
“Liar, fraud, hack, was that what it was?” you said. “Run along, loser. Maybe if you were nicer to me, I’d let you sit with us.”
Your brother opened his mouth to argue, but then, like he had remembered he was standing in front of his idol, he hung his head and trudged off, scuffing his toes against the floor as he did and giving you a betrayed look over his shoulder.
“That’s your little brother?” Sae said.
“Yup,” you said. “Your self-proclaimed biggest fan.”
“And you made him go sit with your parents instead of talking to me? You’re super mean, big sister,” Sae said.
“He wouldn’t shut up if I let him stay here, and considering the goal of this is for you to eat and then leave me alone for the rest of my vacation, that would not be conducive,” you said.
“I see,” he said. “I didn’t realize that was the goal.”
“Isn’t it yours, as well? I’m sure you’d like to enjoy yourself on your time off from soccer,” you said.
“Who says I’m not enjoying myself?” he said. You furrowed your brow at him.
“You’ve had the same expression on your face every time we’ve spoken,” you pointed out, lowering your eyelids and pursing your lips in an imitation of his resting mien. “Like this. It’s totally amphibious.”
“Amphibious?” he repeated. “What does that even mean?”
“You don’t know what amphibious means? Man, when you said you only focused on soccer, I didn’t think it was this bad!” you said.
“I know what amphibious means! I just don’t see how the word applies,” he said.
“Oh, right. Well, you kind of look like the frog emoji,” you said. “Sorry, I could’ve been clearer. That’s my bad.”
“Were you dropped on the head as a baby? I’m asking this from a place of concern, not anger,” Sae said. “It’s because you say so many nonsensical things. After all, I look nothing like the frog emoji.”
“Sure, and people tell me I look like a famous actress,” you said.
“Really?” he said.
“No, I thought we were both saying things that aren’t true,” you said.
“I think you look like a famous actress,” he said. “There. Now we’re both saying things that are true.”
“Well done, Mr. Itoshi! That was clever,” you said, knowing when to concede.
“Thank you,” he said. “Let’s go get our food now. If you die of starvation on my watch, it’ll be a major scandal for Re Al.”
“Your manager must love you,” you said. “So conscientious of your public image.”
“Nope, he’s usually pretty pissed at me,” he said as the two of you got in the buffet line.
“What for?” you said.
“Contrary to what you think, I’m pretty unconcerned with my public image. I’m a soccer player, not some kind of philanthropist or actor or whatever,” he said. “What does it matter if I offend people? My value is in playing well, not being friendly or kind.”
“No one ever accused you of being either of those two,” you said, spreading butter and jam over your toast. “You’re not that bad, though.”
“You’re not that bad, either,” he said. “At least, you’re better company than my manager.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” you said. He scoffed.
“You have low standards,” he said.
“Yours are lower,” you said.
“Very mature response.”
“Thanks!”
Sae was a pretty agreeable breakfast partner. He wasn’t as impossibly cheerful as your parents, who generally drove you crazy with their talkativeness so early in the day, but he also wasn’t as silent and closed off as your brother, who was prone to snapping at others until he had finished at least half of his meal. As with lunch yesterday, it was almost an enjoyable experience, right up until you remembered whose card he was eating on.
“Where are you going?” he said when your plates had been cleared and you had pushed yourself to your feet. He followed after you as you made your way to the hostess’s station, ignoring the whispers that echoed behind the two of you.
“To pay for you to be here, duh,” you said, fishing around in your purse for your wallet. “I know you’re famous and all, but that doesn’t mean you get to eat for free. In fact, that was kind of the point of the meal.”
“I already paid for myself, so you can go and sit back down with your family if you’d like,” he said.
“What? When?” you said.
“I wouldn’t spend that long in a bathroom,” he said. “Not a public one.”
“You little—! Now what?” you said.
“Now you have to see me tomorrow,” he said. “Bye. I’ll pick you up for dinner, so make sure to wear something nice, and bring your credit card. It’s your treat.”
He walked off with a jaunty wave, leaving you standing there, confounded by the development. He had paid for himself again? What was the point of making you take him places if he was just going to cough up the cash himself anyways?
“Psst. Y/N,” your brother said. You weren’t sure when or where he had appeared, but it remained that he was suddenly tapping you on the shoulder and whispering in your ear. “Does Sae Itoshi have a crush on you? If so, please ask if he can get tickets for dad and I to attend his next game.”
“What?” you said, a shockwave running through your entire body at the mere thought of Sae having a crush on you. It was so juvenile and cliched as to be out of Sae’s character entirely. “No! I just owe him.”
“For what?” your brother said.
“I ran into him, called him ugly, and said that he was short,” you said. “Indirectly, of course, but it still happened. I was supposed to buy him lunch yesterday as an apology, but then he ended up paying for us both, and then today, I went on a run with him, and I was going to pay for him to have breakfast here, but guess what?”
“He paid for himself?” your brother said.
“He paid for — yeah, how did you know?” you said.
“There weren’t that many ways the story could’ve gone. Also, I overheard you guys talking,” he said.
“Creep,” you said.
“Weirdo,” he said.
“Freak,” you said.
“Stupid,” he said. “I bet he has a crush on you.”
“Why would he? We have zero common interests, and I’ve mostly only insulted him in our very short time knowing one another,” you said.
“Maybe he’s into that. Some guys are. My one friend is — actually, I’m not exposing him like that,” he said.
“Thank you, because I really didn’t want to know,” you said.
“Anyways, where I was going with that is some guys like girls who humble them a bit. Especially someone like Sae Itoshi; he’s probably so used to people falling all over themselves to get his attention that it’s nice for him to hang out with someone who’s too oblivious to care about that kind of stuff,” he said.
“People like you?” you said. “I told him you were his biggest fan, just so you know.”
“Why would you do that?” your brother said, his eyes bugging out and his mouth forming a pained grimace. “He probably thinks I’m a nerd now!”
“You do it to yourself, buddy,” you said. “Let’s go. It looks like the parents want us to go sit with them. Think you can handle it?”
“After learning that my hero has a crush on my sister and, furthermore, probably thinks of me as some kind of dweeb, I can handle anything,” he said.
The entire day, you pondered your brother’s words. Did Sae have a crush on you? Running through his actions and every conversation you both had ever had led you to think that he did not. It didn’t seem like he liked you very much in even a platonic sense, so how could anyone begin to think he liked you romantically? It was just tolerance for the sake of his pride, that was all.
And you definitely didn’t like him. He was emotionless and conceited and teased you far too often. What did it matter that he was somewhat attractive? He had a terrible personality, and you bet that if more of his fans knew what he was like, he wouldn’t have any to begin with.
No wonder Sae’s manager hated him. He was probably a jerk to his poor employees, too.
“We’re thinking of going here for dinner tonight,” your father said the next day. “Look, their reviews are pretty high, and their prices aren’t crazy. What does everyone think?”
“I’m fine with anything,” your mother said.
“Same here,” your brother said.
“Y/N?” your father said. You were about to respond when your own phone buzzed. You knew exactly who it was texting you, and you sighed as you opened it.
sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I will be there in one hour.
sae itoshi (dumb haircut): You better not have forgotten about our plans for tonight.
sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I made a reservation, so I’ll really be mad if you stand me up.
sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Especially because you’re paying.
me: I WILL BE THERE OMFG STOP TEXTING ME
sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Okay.
“I can’t,” you said.
“Why not? Are you on some new diet or something? They should have vegetarian options, so that won’t be a problem,” your father said. “We can look at their menu beforehand if you prefer, and if you really don’t like anything, then we can find somewhere else.”
“I already have plans,” you said, your lower lip jutting out childishly. “Not that I want to! But I made a promise.”
“You already have plans? What’s that supposed to mean?” your mother said.
“I’m having dinner with someone,” you said.
“Ooh, how exciting! With who?” she said.
“I bet I can guess!” your brother sang.
“Enough out of you!” you said, kicking him in the back of the leg. He doubled over, though that did not stop him from smirking at you.
“Y/N and Sae, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” he said.
“You’re going out with Sae Itoshi?” your father said. “You should’ve just said so! That’s perfectly alright, honey. Actually, he’s the one man I’m not upset about you dating!”
“We are not dating!” you said. “It’s a more transactional relationship than that. No feelings involved. It’s just me apologizing to him.”
“Are you close enough to him to get an autograph for your brother and I?” your dad said.
“Um.” You thought about it. Would Sae give you an autograph for them? You weren’t sure. There was a chance he would, but there was also a high chance he would not. “I dunno. I can ask.”
“You’ll ask for dad, but not for me? Wow, I see how it is,” your brother said.
“Yeah, because you’re annoying!” you said. “Ugh. I have to get ready now. He’ll be here to get me in an hour. Have fun at dinner, all of you. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers.”
“You have fun as well,” your mother said. “Make sure not to bring any money with you. Gentlemen should always pay on the first date.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” you said, giving up on explaining things to your family for the sake of your sanity.
Sae was aggressively punctual. Exactly an hour after he had texted you, a shiny black car was pulling up in the valet lane, and a tall, bald man in a suit was opening the door for you. You climbed in awkwardly, finding Sae to be sitting on the other side, gazing out of the window pensively.
“Hello,” you said, smoothing your dress and buckling your seatbelt. “You have a driver?”
“Of course I do,” he said. “I usually walk places when I’m on vacation, but this restaurant is kind of far, so I thought it’d be more prudent to have the driver take us.”
“I see,” you said. “Thank you, driver, sir.”
The driver hummed in acknowledgement but did not say anything else. You supposed he probably wasn’t used to talking with his passengers; you doubted Sae ever spoke to him much.
“It’s been so hot out recently,” Sae said stiffly.
“That’s what happens during the summer, yes,” you said.
“That’s true,” he said.
“You’re right, though,” you said. “It has been hot.”
“Super hot,” he said.
“Yes,” you said. “Super hot.”
That must’ve been why there was a slight redness to his cheeks. There was definitely no other reason. And there wasn’t any other reason for why you felt uncomfortably warm, shifting in your seat to dissipate the feeling in your stomach. It was the temperature. That was all.
Given the trend, you really should have anticipated it when Sae paid for your dinner while you were freshening up in the bathroom, but you really had not seen it coming in the slightest. He scrunched up his face when you argued, simply telling you that he would see you tomorrow before dropping you back off at your hotel, the receipt in your hand, his flourishing signature scrawled across the back.
“For your brother,” he had said, handing it to you before you could even ask him for his autograph. “You said he was a fan, right? I’ll get him a better one later, but for now, this should do.”
You spent every day of the rest of that vacation with Sae Itoshi. Some days, you would accompany him on a morning walk — he had softened to slowing his pace, so that he was only barely jogging instead of the full on run that he had forced you into that first time — and on others, the two of you would have some meal or another together. The common theme was that, if there was money involved, he would take care of it. Without question, without hesitation, he always slapped your hand back and pulled out his own credit card, telling you that now you both had to meet again, and the next time you really would be the one paying, or else he’d never be able to forgive you for your terrible behavior.
Your parents and brother complained about it at first, as your new friendship with Sae — could it be considered a friendship, or was it something else? — meant you did not see them much on what was supposed to be a family vacation.
You brought it up with Sae, and he responded with something about how it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if you weren’t such a freeloader and actually paid for him, like you were supposed to. This resulted in a lighthearted squabble between you both, which in turn made you forget your family’s whining, and as well you should have. You could take a million more vacations with them, but you’d likely never get a chance to hang out with Sae Itoshi again, so why wouldn’t you take advantage of it when you could?
Sae didn’t forget, though. He sent you back from dinner the next evening with a soccer ball he had won in one of his games, his signature and a note of gratitude scribbled on it in black marker.
Thank you for letting me borrow your daughter and sister from you while you’re on your trip. I really appreciate it, even if she doesn’t know anything about soccer. — Sae Itoshi
They stopped complaining after that. The ball became your brother’s most prized possession, and every day, your father would tell you how happy he was that you had made such a considerate friend.
“And you know, if you ever want to date him,” he’d say, elbowing you in the side with an obnoxious wink. “We wouldn’t be opposed!”
Your mother was in the same boat. “He really cares about you, I think. Enough that he gave your family something so precious just because he thought we didn’t like him. You could do a lot worse than that.”
“Plus, he’s rich and famous!” your brother would chime in without fail. “Double win!”
“You guys are all nuts,” you’d tell them, shaking your head to disguise how pleased the thought of dating Sae made you.
It could never happen. Like your brother was so happy to remind you, he was rich and famous, an athlete that was adored worldwide and played for the best soccer club in history. He could have any girl he wanted, so why would he ever choose you? You and he were from two different planes of existence. Maybe you could pretend for a little bit that you weren’t, but the date for your eventual departure from Spain was drawing closer and closer, and that day meant the certain end of the fever dream that was your closeness with Sae.
You had been prepared from the start for it to finish in this way. You would go home and tell all of your friends about your trip, how you had spent almost every day with the famous soccer player Sae Itoshi, how he had given you his phone number and made you go on runs with him, how together, you and him had eaten lunch and dinner and breakfast and several meals that you were convinced he had just made up to have an excuse to buy food for the two of you — brunch, linner, midnight snacks and third desserts.
There were other things that you wouldn’t tell them, too, things that Sae had not necessarily said to you in confidence but which you sensed were held close to his heart and which you would therefore hold close to yours. His little brother was named Rin, and they had the same eyes, though Rin’s were quicker to water and perpetually had hair falling into them. He still watched the same shows he used to when he was very small, because they reminded him of his parents’ home. He thought that a person’s athletic potential could be determined by the shape of their butt, but he tended to avoid looking as a form of respect for others.
“That’s a pretty cool skill, Sae! What do you think my athletic potential is?” you had asked when he had revealed that last fact.
“If it’s possible for a person to have negative potential, then that’s about what yours is. If it’s not, then you’re definitely at a zero,” he had responded.
“You didn’t even look,” you had said, shoving a French fry into his mouth as punishment. He hated French fries for how unhealthy they were, and you had half-expected him to lecture you about fats and oils and salts, but instead, he had dutifully chewed and swallowed without any theatrics.
“Don’t need to, and don’t plan to,” he had said, and that was that. “I’ve already seen you run, and that told me all I needed to know about your athletic skills. Or, in this case, your lack thereof.”
If you took his words at face value, then you would’ve thought he truly hated you. He never missed a chance to make fun of you, and you were the same way — certainly, anyone who overheard your conversations would’ve been convinced that you and he were bitter enemies. But that was because they didn’t see the way he always positioned himself on the sidewalk so that he was between you and the oncoming traffic. They didn’t see the way he’d pull out your chair and only pretend to frown when you’d thank him for it. They didn’t see the way his ears would turn pink if you dared to smile in his direction or, heaven forbid, agreed with what he was saying instead of arguing, as was your go-to.
No, you were pretty confident that Sae Itoshi did not hate you. It was just that soccer was his thing and all other areas were beyond him, areas which included such fields as emotional awareness and sensitivity.
Maybe you might tell the friends you were particularly close to about that. Sae Itoshi treated me pretty well, you’d say, with grand, sweeping hand motions to emphasize the point. As well as he knew how to, which was well enough for me. If I ever get a boyfriend, they’ll have a lot to live up to. Seems kind of unfair to whatever poor schmuck gets stuck with the task, don’t you think? Considering the two of us never even dated…
“I'm going home tomorrow morning,” you said. The sun was setting, and the two of you were walking along the same stretch of beach that you had first met at. “I finished packing all of my things before dinner. It’s surreal, almost. I feel like an entirely different person now, compared to when I came here.”
“Is that so?” he said, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. “I wonder why.”
“Did you just smile?” you said. Immediately, he scowled.
“No way,” he said. “I’d never smile because of something you said.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, you definitely smiled. I made you smile! I made you smile! I made you smile!” you said, poking him in the cheek repeatedly. Sae’s expressions were so subtle that it was easy to overlook them before they had vanished, but there was no overlooking what you had just seen. He had definitely smiled at you, or at least he had been about to.
“Stop poking me,” he grumbled.
“No,” you said, poking him again. “Only if you smile again.”
“Hell no,” he said. You poked his cheek again. “Y/N. Stop it.”
“Will you miss me?” you said.
“Not if you don’t quit that!” he said, grabbing your wrist when you prepared to poke him again. Heat rose to your cheeks at the way his thumb rested against your pulse, and when he realized he was holding your hand so familiarly, his own cheeks flushed. “No. I won’t.”
“I’ll miss you,” you said, digging your feet into the sand, turning out to the sea because you couldn’t stand to look at him when you were being so vulnerable. “I’ll tell everyone I know about you, of course, but it won’t be the same. Something funny will happen, and I’ll think to myself, oh, Sae would’ve snorted at that — but not laughed, because you don’t laugh. Or I’ll order shitty French fries, and it’ll remind me of how much you’d scold me for eating them. You’d say something like, those are basically heart attacks in a box, and then you’d pour a bottle of salted kombucha down my throat to cleanse my system.”
Somewhere in the distance, a seagull squawked, reminding you of the fateful encounter from so long ago. You wished you could go back and get to know Sae all over again. You wished you could ask him the same questions and not know the answers, so that you were surprised when he told them to you. You wished you could argue with him for a little bit longer. You wished that, one more time, you could imply he was short and ugly and slow and a thousand other rude adjectives, even if he was really none of those things, none of them at all.
“I’m going to ask you one last question, okay?” you said. “Please think over your answer carefully. It’s important.”
“Okay,” he said, uncharacteristically gently. “I’ll really consider it well.”
“What’s your favorite animal?” you said.
“Seagulls,” he said immediately, directly contradicting his solemn oath. You laughed at this, burying your face in your hands to hide the hitch in your throat.
“You traitor,” you said. “You know all about the feud between seagulls and I, and yet you’re still claiming they’re your favorites?”
“They always have been,” he said. “I like migratory birds, how they don’t stay in one place but are always moving around. It must be such a blissful life.”
“But it’s probably pretty lonely, too,” you said. “They don’t have anywhere to call home.”
“I like lonely things,” he said. “That’s why the end of the summer is my favorite season.”
“Hm,” you said. “Then, if I tell you that I’ll be lonely once I leave here, will you like me, too?”
He looked at you, but you stared resolutely ahead, your gaze trained on the horizon, the way his had been on the day you had run into him. It was such a kiddish question, and internally, you were beating yourself up for asking it, but deep down, you wanted to know, so you did not move to retract it.
“Well, I like seagulls for a different reason now,” he said.
So that was your answer, then. The waves crashed against the shore, and a balmy wind blew through your hair and clothes, carrying the light scent of Sae’s cologne to your nose, the same one he had worn for as long as you could remember.
“I understand,” you said.
“These days, it’s a specific seagull I’m fond of, actually,” he said.
“Huh? Like a breed or something?” you said.
“No, just one bird in particular,” he said. “It did me a really huge favor recently.”
“What are you talking about? You always say that you suspect I was dropped on the head as a baby, but between the two of us, I think the one that was dropped was you,” you said, the fraying ends of your rejected feelings driving you to irascibility.
“A while ago, I was standing on the beach, feeling pretty annoyed with the world — as usual,” he said. “I had had to run from the paparazzi in order to go on this vacation without being bothered, you know, and I honestly was starting to question if I’d ever be seen as a normal person. I get that the only thing I’m good at is soccer, but it’s pretty tiring to be thought of as a guy who kicks balls around and nothing more.”
Unbidden, you inhaled sharply, because the story was starting to sound familiar. Spinning on your heel, you were met with the sight of Sae smiling shyly, peering down at you through his unfairly long eyelashes.
“That seagull must’ve known how I was feeling. There’s no other explanation for it all. It must’ve known how I was feeling, and somehow, it managed to find the one person in the entire world that saw me as something other than that. Do you know what it did next? It stole that person’s sandwich, and it led her right to me,” he said.
“Are you talking about me?” you said.
“How many people do you think have called me a short, ugly, D-list celebrity instead of asking for my autograph upon meeting me?” he said.
“Probably not very many,” you said. He chuckled.
“Probably not any,” he said. You rested your forehead against his shoulder.
“Probably not,” you said. He stroked your hair, though his motions were like a marionette’s — he was not very used to this type of relationship, after all. But he was trying his best, and you found that to be far more endearing than any suave gestures might’ve been.
“I know you have to go soon, so I was planning on not saying anything,” he said. “What would be the point? I figured this was just a summer fling for you. But then you had to go and be all sentimental, and I had to say something.”
“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It would’ve been worse if I had returned home without knowing at all. Where do we go from here, though?”
“Where do we go from here? Let me think. Well, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend,” he said. “And you’ll say yes, because who would ever reject me? Then we’ll talk on the phone every day, and you can send me photos of things you find funny, and I’ll have a sixth sense for when you’re eating French fries and I’ll send you strongly worded texts in reprimand. You’ll fly over to watch my matches whenever possible, and when I’m on my next break, I’ll come visit you and meet your family and friends properly.”
“Getting a little presumptuous, aren’t we? What if I say no?” you said.
“Will you?” he said.
“Not sure. How about you ask and find out?” you said.
“If you’re going to say no, then I don’t want to,” he said. You stuck your tongue out at him.
“I can’t be with a man who’s afraid of rejection. It was nice knowing you, Sae,” you said. “See you around. Hope you lose the Champions League.”
“Wait! I’m not afraid of rejection,” he said. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? Officially, I mean.”
“Yes, of course,” you said. “But you’re going to have to buy my plane tickets if you want me to watch you. Even with frequent flier miles, I doubt I can afford coming to see you that often.”
“Consider it done,” he said. You grinned at him.
“You know, if you’re my boyfriend, then you’re going to have to keep paying for our dates, as well. My mother said that’s the gentlemanly thing for you to do,” you said.
“Right, I was expecting that,” he said. “Don’t you think there’s a reason why I haven’t let you buy anything yet?”
“Then how am I ever supposed to apologize to you for the circumstances of our first meeting? I mean, I was pretty harsh,” you said.
“That’s true,” he said. “Let me think.”
“Mhm,” you said. “I know that that’s out of your comfort zone, so I’ll give you a minute.”
“I have an idea,” he said, though it was accompanied by a slight glare at your jab.
“What is it?” you said.
“Close your eyes,” he said. You obliged, squeezing them shut, though not without widening your feet into the defensive stance he had demonstrated to you on the day he had attempted to teach you basic soccer skills.
“What are you going to do, tackle me or something? I’m using the position you taught me, but please be gentle, you’re way more muscular than—!”
You were cut off by him pressing his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, gentle and light, like feathers in the air or water against the sand, and he pulled away before you could really react or reciprocate. He had left you wanting, and you knew he knew that, because there was a smugness to his voice when he spoke next.
“Apology accepted,” he said as you blinked at him in shock, your mind still lagging well behind your body. “Now we’re even.”
“Hold on,” you said. “I’m suddenly feeling very repentant and remorseful. Are you quite sure you forgive me with just that?”
He laughed. It was such a lovely sound, his laugh, and you would’ve told him so if you weren’t afraid that he’d stop when you pointed it out.
“Maybe not,” he said. “You might have to apologize a bit more.”
“That sounds doable,” you said. “Yeah, I might be able to work that in. It’ll be agonizing, but a wise man once told me that that’s just the nature of apologizing, so it’s the least I can do, right?”
“Oh, shut up,” he said, holding your face in his hands and leaning in. You did the same, your eyes closing all on their own as you sought out the connection he had deprived you of earlier.
As the sun set over the horizon and the seagulls settled in for the night, he kissed you again.
#sae x reader#sae x you#sae x y/n#itoshi sae#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#reader insert#modern au#m1ckeyb3rry milestone#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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Male Harpy/Female Reader
SFW
Wordcount: 2,918
Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist
You catch a cute and bashful harpy in the book shop one day. Later, at a book signing for your favourite author, you realise they’re one and the same.
In the softly lit maze of the bookshop, you meandered between the shelves, your fingertips grazing the spines of countless books. The smell of paper and binding glue filled the air. This was your retreat, the place you went to when the world got too much.
As you approached the fantasy section, your excitement grew; today was the release of a novel you'd eagerly awaited. Just as you reached out to grab the last copy from the shelf, another hand got there simultaneously, lightly brushing against yours.
"Oops, sorry about that," came a light-hearted apology from beside you.
You looked up to see a harpy, all dark auburn feathers and curly red hair. He was beautiful—sharp features softened by gentle brown eyes, a nervous smile playing on his lips.
"No worries," you responded, your initial embarrassment giving way to curiosity. "Looks like we have the same taste."
His smile widened. "I guess we do. I’m Antal," he said, holding out the book to you. "You take the last copy, I was only looking.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—”
“Please?”
His hand extended, offering you the book. A bright orange cover stared back up at you, a phoenix with her wings spread wide.
“Please, take it,” he insisted, claws gently curled over the cover.
You hesitated, the politeness ingrained in you bubbling to the surface. “Are you sure? I mean, we both spotted it at the same time.”
Antal’s smile didn’t waver as he pushed the book a little closer to you. “Absolutely. I hope you enjoy it,” he added, and you swore his cheeks tinged pink beneath the feathers.
Accepting the book, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks, then. I appreciate it.”
As he watched you slide the book into your bag, a thoughtful look crossed his face. “Any other books you’re hunting for today?” he asked, a curious tilt to his head. His dark eyes were enormous, with big pupils that made him look a little owlish.
Was he an owl?
Shaking your head, you said, “well, I’ve been trying to get through all the works of Kristoff Varga,” you replied, holding up the new book. It was the latest in a series of four, but there were dozens of other books written by him. “He’s my favourite at the moment, I just can’t get enough.”
Antal’s eyes lit up, cheeks reddening even more. Dammit, it was too cute. “You like his other books?”
“I like them all so far.”
“Which one’s your favorite?” Antal inquired. He didn’t seem to realise that he was leaning in, closer and closer.
You thought for a moment, trying to ignore how close he was. You could taste the coffee on his breath, feel his feathers tickling your shoulder. It made it very difficult to think.
After a moment you said, “I love Silver Skies. You know, the one about the dragon and the orc princess.”
“I love that one too!”
As you and Antal meandered through the aisles, he began to point out other authors whose works he said were similar to Kristoff Varga. You happily ambled alongside him, listening to his smooth, deep voice.
"If you enjoy Varga, you might also like Helena Rook. Her trilogy about the war between night creatures and humans has that same worldbuilding," he suggested, pulling a book with a dark, moody cover from the shelf.
You took the book, flipping it over to read the blurb on the back. Antal's recommendations sparked a new interest, and you added it to the growing pile.
He pointed out a few more, and you ended up needing a basket to hold all of the books. The entire time he chatted away happily, talking about this author and the next, and you found yourself inching unconsciously closer to his side.
As you approached a display of new releases, Antal casually asked, "So, do you have any plans for the weekend? Other than reading all of these books, I suppose."
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you thought he might be leading up to asking you out.
The hopeful part of your mind spun scenarios of continuing these delightful conversations over coffee or at a quiet park.
Except, you were busy.
"Actually, I’m going to Varga’s book signing on Saturday," you answered, watching his reaction closely, trying to gauge his interest. "You should come along; it’s rare to see him in public."
Antal’s face flickered with an unreadable expression before settling into a polite smile. "I’d love to, but I’m already tied up that day," he replied with a small shrug.
You felt a twinge of disappointment. "That’s too bad," you said. "It would have been great to have you there, especially since you appreciate his work so much."
Antal nodded, his smile tinged with a hint of something you couldn't quite place—was it regret? “You’ll have to tell me about it. Maybe I could give you my number?”
“I’d love that.”
The question filled you with a pleasant anticipation. You entered his number carefully, excited hands a little too fast for your own good.
He smiled as you both stored your phones away. “I have to go, I was only going to pop in for a minute. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime soon?”
You shivered at the softness, the gentleness, in his voice. “Yeah, that would be great.”
As you moved to the checkout, you felt a sense of contentment. Antal stood beside you as you paid for your books, almost close enough to touch. It wouldn’t have taken much for you to close the gap, and kiss him.
As you thanked the desk clerk, you sighed. Kissing him! What a silly thought.
With your books bagged and receipt in hand, you both walked towards the exit. Antal held the door open for you. As you stepped outside, the sunlight turned his auburn feathers a gorgeous golden shade.
There was an undeniable grace about him—a fluidity in his movements that, under the sunshine, made him almost ethereal. His shoulders were broad, tapering into narrower hips, covered in a layer of fluffy feathers beneath his low cut top.
You paused outside the bookstore, smiling gently. “See you around?” you asked hopefully.
“Absolutely.”
You didn’t want to say goodbye, but you had to eventually. With a sigh, you offered him a smile before turning to the car park across the street.
You felt his eyes on you as you walked away. A quick glance back confirmed it, and he offered you a parting wave with claw-tipped hands, a gesture that you returned. As he turned to vanish around the corner, you paused for a moment to watch him.
Antal disappeared quickly; he was tall, with gorgeously long legs. Even from a distance, there was something about the way he moved that captivated you—maybe it was the otherness of him, since harpies were so rare in Oceanhall. Maybe it was his sweet personality, his flushed cheeks and shy smile.
Either way, he left an impression that lingered in your thoughts as you unlocked your car and settled inside.
You started the engine, but your mind was still back in the bookstore, replaying your conversation, his laughter, and the ease with which you had opened up to each other.
You really wanted to see him again.
***
You arrived at the bookstore on Saturday, the buzz of excitement obvious as soon as you stepped inside. The queue for Kristoff Varga's book signing snaked through the aisles—a fact that hadn't fully dawned on you until now. Each person in line clutched their copy of his latest novel, their animated conversations filling the air with anticipatory chatter.
Trying to catch a glimpse of Varga at the signing booth proved futile; the crowd was simply too dense, a wall of eager fans blocking any view of the author himself. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, you decided to escape to the relative calm of the bookstore’s café.
As you approached the counter, the barista greeted you with a friendly smile. “What can I get for you today? Something to help with the wait?” he asked, his tone light.
“A flat white, please,” you replied, appreciating the warmth in his greeting. “It’s quite a turnout, isn’t it? I didn’t realise Varga was this popular.”
“Yeah, it’s been non-stop since we opened,” the barista said as he started on your order. “It’s good for business, but I’m running out of hands!” He laughed, handing you your coffee with a flourish.
“Thank you,” you said, taking a sip of the hot beverage, and digging out your card to pay. “I suppose it’s not every day you get a celebrity author here.”
“That’s true. He’s a bit of a recluse, isn’t he? Makes these events all the more special.” The barista wiped down the counter, casting a glance towards the queue. “You might be here for a while. At least it’s a good crowd, all book lovers together.”
You nodded, agreeing, your thoughts drifting to Antal. Throughout the week, you had exchanged messages. He had mentioned being busy today, but a part of you had still hoped he might surprise you and turn up.
With your coffee in hand, you found a table near the window, a spot that offered a view of both the café and the bookstore entrance. Each time the door opened, your gaze lifted, a reflex action fuelled by the hope of seeing Antal walk in. However, as the minutes turned into an hour, the reality set in that he truly wasn't coming.
You took out your phone, typing a quick message to him: it’s packed here! Wish you could’ve seen it. How’s your day going?
Even as you hit send, you felt disappointment and understanding mingle.
As you waited for his response, you sipped your coffee, watching the crowd and wondering about the man behind the author's desk. What would Varga be like? Would he live up to the mental image you had of him?
As the line began to shorten, you decided it was time to join the queue, balancing your coffee carefully as you edged closer to the excited throng of fans. The energy around you was infectious, with snippets of conversation floating over the buzz of the crowd.
"Can you believe we're actually going to meet Kristoff Varga?" exclaimed a young woman ahead of you, her voice pitched high with excitement.
"I know, right? I heard he's a harpy, which is why he hardly ever makes public appearances," her friend replied, the idea clearly adding an extra layer of allure to the event.
You perked up at this, the coincidence striking you as odd. Two harpies in one week? It was rare enough to meet one, given their usual reclusiveness. The thought lingered in your mind as you inched forward, the line’s pace steady but slow.
"He must be quite something to look at, then," someone else chimed in, "All those feathers. And the talons!"
"Yeah, and it’s not just any harpy. They say his feathers change shades with the seasons—how cool is that?" another added, the group nodding in agreement.
As you finally neared the front, you craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive author. There, at the signing booth, you saw him—a figure with striking auburn feathers, his face partly concealed by a black cap. The feathers were glossy under the lights, and strikingly familiar.
No, he couldn’t have been…
"Amazing, isn't it?" the person behind you whispered, almost as if they could read your thoughts. "I've never seen him up close before.”
You nodded, lost in thought as the line moved forward. Each step brought you closer to Varga, and you craned your neck to try and see his face.
Finally, you were second in line, and your heartbeat thumped against your ribs. Your fingers tightened around the cup of coffee you still held, and you fumbled slightly as you pulled the book from your bag. You smoothed down the cover, trying to calm your nerves, your mind still reeling.
When it was your turn, you stepped up to the booth, and he looked up. Your breath caught in your throat.
Antal.
His auburn feathers seemed more pronounced here, under the softer lights of the signing table, and when his eyes met yours, there was a moment of mutual recognition that ground everything to a halt.
Antal's expression softened. He cleared his throat, his voice softer, more tentative than before. "Hello, nice to see you again.”
You were momentarily at a loss for words, the surprise pinning you in place. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice a whisper of confusion and curiosity. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"
He hesitated, his glance flickering away before meeting yours again. "Because I wanted you to like me for myself, not as Varga," he admitted with a shrug. "It's easy to like someone for their success or their fame... but you were so excited to meet Kristoff Varga… I wanted to hold off the inevitable."
His honesty struck a chord. A soft laugh escaped you as you shook your head slightly, the absurdity and the sweetness of his concern mingling together. "That's so silly," you said fondly. "I like you, Antal, and I like Varga. They're both you, aren't they?"
Antal's expression lightened, a relieved smile breaking through his initial reserve. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, his eyes brightening.
As an impatient murmur from the person behind you grew louder, Antal’s laughter broke the brief tension, his demeanor relaxing as he took your book to sign it. As he handed the book back, his fingers lingered just a bit too long.
“Are you busy later?” he asked.
“No, I’m free,” you replied, the excitement bubbling up inside you, making your heart race with anticipation.
A shy smile spread across his face, his usual confidence tempered with a vulnerability that made him even more endearing. “Would you like to meet up after the signing?” he ventured, his gaze steady on yours.
“I’d love to,” you said, stepping back to allow him to greet the next fan.
As you moved away from the booth, you heard snippets of conversation and whispers from those around who had caught bits of your exchange with Antal. There was a hint of jealousy in their tones, their eyes following you.
You moved to a quieter part of the bookstore, your heart still fluttering. You sat, waving hello to the barista from earlier, and waited.
As the hours trickled by, you lost yourself in the pages of Antal’s new book, glancing up every so often to see the queue dwindle. Around you, the bookstore began to quiet down, the last few patrons lingering as the event wound to a close.
Noticing the time, the barista approached your table with a gentle smile. “We’ll be closing up soon,” he mentioned, his eyes sweeping over the mostly empty café.
“I’m just waiting for Varga,” you explained, hoping it wouldn’t be an inconvenience.
The barista’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he nodded understandingly. “Of course, we don’t close for another thirty minutes,” he said, and with a final tidy of the table, he left you to wait.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you saw Antal making his way towards you. The sight of him, free of the signing table and the throngs of fans, reignited the excitement from earlier. You stood up, and as he approached, something in his smile made it impossible to hold back.
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying into his feathers. He was so soft and warm, and his closeness sparked something in you. Without really knowing what you were doing, you stood on your toes for a kiss.
The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, even careful. As you grew more confident, the kiss deepened; you clung to him, hands around his waist to pull him closer.
Antal tasted faintly of sugary coffee and strawberries, a hint of sweetness lingering on his lips. You could feel the slight brush of his feathers, his talons carefully touching your back.
As you stepped back from the kiss, breathless and heart racing, the excitement thrumming through you made your heart stutter. Your lips met his again as you practically crushed yourself against him.
Antal's laugh, light and genuinely happy, mingled with the air between you.
Pulling away a second time, Antal glanced down at the book open on the table. "How are you finding the book?" he asked, his tone playful.
"It's fantastic," you replied, your eyes still locked on his. "I love the romance in it—but I have to say, the real thing is even better."
Antal’s response was to pull you close once again, his arms wrapping around you in a hug that lifted you slightly off your feet. The warmth of his body and the strength in his hold were exhilarating.
As he set you back down, your laughter joined his, the sound echoing lightly in the near-empty café. You glanced over his shoulder and saw the barista watching, a knowing smile on his face. The sight might have embarrassed you at another time, but right now, it didn’t matter. You were too caught up to care about an audience.
Smiling, you pecked Antal on the cheek and said, “let them watch. They’re just jealous I’ve got you all to myself.”
#exophilia fiction#exophilia#monster x reader#monster fucker#monster romance#monster boyfriend#tag: mxf#tag: male monster#tag: female reader#tag: sfw#tag: harpy
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Do you remember the podcast episode where Chris and Nick were mean to Matt ( calling him miserable etc.), and could you write something fluffy abt the reader comforting Matt after they filmed that episode?
[🩹] bottled up | matt sturniolo one-shot
paring : little!matt sturniolo x cg!gn!reader
summary : sometimes matt's brothers are just too mean...and sometimes a bottle fixes everything
warning/extra tid-bits : nick and chris being meanies (happy ending though!), crying, use of y/n, i think that should be it!
word count : 1,037
divider credit : @v6que
a/n : this podcast episode stressed me out so bad (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl !)
Matt left the room as soon as he could, ignoring his brother’s taunts about how he was “Miserable” and “Negative”.
He could already feel the tears slipping out from his baby blue eyes as he ran upstairs and into his room, slamming his door shut behind him and twisting the lock with a satisfying “click!”
You sat on his bed, watching the whole scene unfold. Carefully putting your cheesy rom com book on his nightstand, you cleared your throat causing Matt’s eyes widened in surprise, he’s forgotten you were here but once he remembered he thanked god.
“M-Mama/D-Dada/B-Baba!” Matt cried, holding his arms out for a hug. Your sweet boy didn’t have to ask twice because you instantly pulled him into a hug, sitting the two of you down on his bed. Matt managed to shimmy his way onto your lap as you held him in a cradling position.
“Shhh, I’m here darling. I’m here.” You comforted him, placing gently kisses atop his head. Matt continued crying for what felt like an hour, mumbling out stuff about how Chris was a “meanie” and Nick was too.
“Were they being mean to my sweet boy?” You asked sympathetically. He nodded against your now tear-stained shirt.
“I’m sorry sweetheart…Do you want me to go talk to them?” You offered, you weren’t even sure what you would say but you already had some choice words in mind. Luckily for Chris and Nick, Matt shook his head which was now resting right above your heart. Your heartbeat had always seemed to be soothing to the little.
“Okay angel, well what do you need from Mama/Dada/Baba right now?” You asked, curling the back of his hair around your fingertips.
Thinking for a moment, Matt’s hands anxiously picked at the skin near his nails. You quietly took one of his hands, squeezing some of the pressure points in it in an attempt to alleviate some of his anxiety.
“M’ want…” Matt trailed off into a mumble, a shy blush invading his face. You smiled, looking down at the little on your lap. “Hm? What is it?” You pried, “M’ wanna bottle…” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
You beamed, always delighted to give your boy a bottle, before nodding. “Okay sweetheart, can you wait here while Mama/Dada/Baba brings the bottle up?” You asked, he thought for a moment before nodding.
After some gentle coaxing and multiple pinky promises you would return, you found yourself in the kitchen. You’d managed to avoid both Nick and Chris, unscrewing Matt’s bottle and filling it with milk and a few splashes of vanilla extract.
“Y/N? I didn’t know you were here!” Chris’ voice came from behind you. You internally sighed, turning around. “Yeah, Matt said we’d hang out after the podcast…” You mumbled. “Do you two wanna watch a movie? Me and Nick were gonna watch-” You cut the youngest triplet off, “No, Matt’s not feeling well.” You said firmly. Chris rolled his eyes, “He is still Miserable Matt?” He joked, only you didn’t laugh.
“Can you stop calling him that?” You asked, your tone sharper than intended. Chris paused. “I mean- seriously. I get that you three are brothers and you're gonna mess around but like- just lay off dude.” You continued, “I…” The youngest trailed off, his eyes meeting the bottle behind you.
Both Chris and Nick knew of their brother's regression, you hadn’t always been his caregiver and with Matt’s specific age range, he needed someone to at least make sure he didn’t hurt himself.
Realizing his actions had caused his older brother to regress, Chris’ face instantly fell.
“I’m- I’m sorry Y/N I thought-”
You shook your head, turning around and screwing the cap back onto Matt’s bottle. “Apologize to Matt, not me.” You said, beginning to walk back to Matt’s room, Chris following you.
“Well not right now!” You scolded, Chris stopped and nodded. “I uh- yeah okay.” He said before sheepishly moving back to the living room where Nick was sitting on the couch.
After sliding back into the room, you were greeted by Matt who was now in comfier clothes.
“Guess what I’ve got!” You sang, gently shaking the bottle in the air. Matt giggled, his puffy eyes beginning to return to normal.
You sat yourself against the headrest, Matt wasting no time crawling into your lap and laying his head on your chest. You cooed, whispering gentle affirmations to him about how he was a “sweet boy”, specifically your sweet boy.
Bringing the bottle to his lips, Matt hummed as the milk entered his mouth. Your little snuggled further into you, anxiety melting away by the second.
You proceeded to talk about anything and everything you could think of, from the most recent episode of Bluey the two of you had watched…to the weather in your hometown.
Matt listened contentedly, eyes transfixed on you as he drank his milk.
Just as the milk in his bottle ran dry, Matt’s eyes began to grow heavy. “Oh sweetheart…is someone tired?” You cooed, voice dripping in a softness a cloud could only dream of achieving.
“Mhm..” Matt mumbled as you began playing with his hair. “Poor thing, such a sleepy baby~” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Matt’s nose.
Giggling, he began allowing sleep to take over his mind.
It’d been nearly 30 minutes since Matt fell asleep, and you decided to hold him in your lap for as long as your limbs would allow. Just as you were going to move him, you heard the bedroom door creak open.
Turning your gaze to the now open door, you were greeted by Nick and Chris’ faces peeking in. You raised your brow.
“He okay?” Nick asked shyly, you smiled at the oldest brother’s concern. “Yeah, out like a light though.” You let out a breathy laugh, the two brothers doing the same.
The two brothers helped move Matt off of you, tucking him in.
Nick told you he already planned on apologizing to his middle brother first thing in the morning before leaving you and Chris on your own.
“Movie offer still stands,” Chris whispered, just before he slipped out the door.
#fandom agere#agere#sfw agere#sturniolo triplets#age regression#agere blog#agere community#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#the sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo oneshots#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo x you#nick sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader
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YOU’RE PATHETIC ⛪️
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡𐙚 summary: Jay and you go to the same church school. He and his friends make fun of you for actually following the rules. You think he hates you, but little do you know about his obsession.
pairing ᯓ★ park jongseong x fem!reader
★ starring: newjeans' DANIELLE
cw ᯓ★ nsfw, cursing, corruption kink, hard dom jay, sub reader, talk about religion, masturbation (jay), mention of porn magazine's, jay and reader go to a church school, jay’s 20 and readers 19 turning 20, breath play???, face fucking, p in v sex, jay degrades reader in one scene, reader is clueless, jay & reader are inexperienced, reader mentions pee (doesn't know she's abt to cum), lmk if there's more
p.s. ᯓ★ in no way am I trying to mock anyone's religion. I mean no harm this is all fiction and in creative fun. If you are not comfortable with this topic, please do not read and look for something else. also, this story is supposed to take place in the 80's keep in mind that's why there is no texting.
taglist ᯓ★ @anonant @luvnicho @nannetsz @star4rin @lovelysparklyfart @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @jakehooni @26796i @woozixo @kim2005bomi @minseongsworld @sunkislove
series ᯓ★ 80’s love
There he was for the third time this week, fist pumping his cock with the swollen red tip sticking out. Moaning your name like it was some sort of ritual because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and your pigtails. Oh, how much he wants to tug on them and push you to your limit while fucking you hard. He really shouldn’t be doing this and if his parents found out he’d be in so much trouble but that doesn’t stop Jay. It didn’t stop him when he was 14 so why would he stop now at the age of 20.
“Yea- oh f-fuckk” he grunts as white ropes spill out of him onto his hand. His breathing is unstable as he closes his eyes imagining how you’d clean him up so well. You’re so vulnerable and pure, that’s what Jay loves most about you. Constantly following your parent’s rules like a good Christian girl, but Jay always wondered if he would be able to change that. Minutes pass by and you’re the only thing flooding his mind.
He flinches as the front door opens letting him know his mom is back from the store. Jay groans wiping his hand with a napkin and yanking on the nearest pair of sweats before rushing to wash his hands. Wiping his wet hands on his sweats as he runs downstairs taking the bags from his mom’s hands. He begins to set the heavy bags on the kitchen counter taking out the groceries.
“Thank you. Oh, guess what that girl.. the one with the pigtails. We saw her and her family at church on Monday. I saw her at the store today and she helped me carry my bags to my car. She’s cute and seems like a good girl… hmm?” Jays head rises suddenly not interested in what his mom bought.
“Oh, ___?” his mom snaps pointing at him meaning he guessed right. “She’s annoying and such a crybaby. I’m not even worried about girls right now mom.” He hates how nervous he gets talking about you. The more he tries to conceal his feelings the more they pour out. His mom just laughs putting some groceries in the fridge. “Hey! Be nice.”
Her laughter dies down as she remembers something. She looks up at him her look suddenly showing some disappointment. “I thought I told you not to skip church school yesterday. -” I know I’ll go tomorrow, Mom. “Park Jongseong I’m serious. You’re a Christian man you need to continue on the right path. You’re a good kid you always have been.” Jay just looks away and nods not wanting to argue with his mom. His mom is trying to study his expression wondering whether to drop the conversation or not.
She sighs before speaking again. “Well, go upstairs and shower then come help me cook and set the table.” his mom softly tells him rubbing his shoulder. Jay listens dragging his feet across the floor and up the stairs.
Your white sneakers hit the floor as you walk in the halls, skirt slightly swaying. Books pressed up against your chest like someone will steal them. Danielle throws her arm around your shoulder, and you flinch looking up before smiling. You guys walk to your locker telling her updates on your new pet bunny.
Jay watches you from across the hallway while his friends complain that he’s not paying attention. “Don’t worry guys he’s just trying to get his dick hard before he gets home.” Jake laughs bending over and holding his stomach.
Glaring at Sunghoon for laughing too, Jay hits the back of Jake’s head shutting him up. “Jake don’t be mad you can’t get any bitches because you and your 2-inch dick are literal pussy repellents.” Sunghoon's mouth drops, looking back and forth at the two guys. Jake rolls his eyes poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue thinking of a comeback.
“Yeah, there’s no coming back from that… sorry man.” Sunghoon pats Jake’s back pressing his lips into a thin line. Jake shakes his head mumbling something about getting Jay back one day. The bell rings reminding everyone to start making their way to the chapel.
All the students along with Jay and his friends are entering the chapel taking their seats. Jay looks around, his eyes meeting the back of your head as you sit on the other side of the chapel next to your friends. You sit with good posture and your hands on your lap as you look forward, attention already on the teachers upfront.
The prayer begins catching everyone's attention except Jay's. He doesn't take his eyes off of you because you're all he sees. During the prayer he would continuously steal glances at you. An hour passes and he's still hypnotized by your presence. Feeling someone tap his shoulder he looks to his left and is met with Sunghoon letting him know to get up. Jay didn't even realize the prayer ended.
You're in front of him and his friends as students walk out of the chapel. Jay softly tugs on your ponytail and asks "Oh is sweet little ___ dropping the good girl act? With a skirt that short seems like you're begging to be looked at as a slut." Sunghoon and Jake just chuckle at Jay's comment.
You turn around looking at him angrily "Y-You… You shouldn’t say words like that. It’s not… something a g-good Christian would do. Actually, unlike you Park Jongseong I have a future I'm looking forward too. While you're too busy ogling at women I am focusing on my studies." you huff telling him in a matter-of-a-fact tone, but you still sound so small. Like a puppy who’s been kicked. Tears fill your eyes as you rush to the bathroom. Your friends give Jay a dirty look and run to the bathroom to comfort you.
Damn that’s the first time she’s said anything back.. he thinks to himself. He follows you when his friends are distracted and knows your friends left the bathroom. As he gets closer to the bathroom, he can hear your sobs. Jay walks in clearly not caring that it's a restroom for women only and bangs on the stall that your locked in.
You flinch staying in the same position. "Why do you hate me so much?" You ask Jay with your trembling voice, and he feels his heart break a little. "What nonsense are you talking about. Can you-... Can you just come out of the stall." Jay responds keeping his cold act up.
There's silence for a couple minutes until he hears you shuffle to your feet and unlock the door. Your eyes are slightly red as you look up at him and hands tugging down your skirt. Jay sits in silence wanting to clam up because he knows you're watching him. "'I don't hate you ___" he admits staring at the ground.
Your eyes stay on him with your eyebrows scrunched together and he continues. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. I hate that no matter how much I distract myself you're always in my mind. I hate how I try to get your attention and you never care. You only try to please your teachers and parents because you want to be a good girl so bad."
Your eyes widen at his confession mouth opening but you shut it right away not knowing what to say. He grabs your ponytail, and you whimper. "Now what? Hmm? … What do you have to say to that?" He stares at you, and you feel like he's looking into your soul. You look everywhere but his face because you feel too intimidated.
"I- well... thank you? um I appreciate-" you stop talking when you hear Jay scoff, and you look back up to see him biting his lip. 'seriously' Jay whispers under his breath. Sucking in a deep breath he let's go of your hair.
"Can I show you something?" Jay finally speaks up and you nod eagerly. He grabs your hand putting it on his crotch and you gasp softly. You squeeze your legs together, unsure of why you did that. "Is... is that your... you know. Thing?" you ask him, he laughs and nods.
You know you should take your hand away, but you can't. Your thighs are still pressed together as Jay yanks your hand off of him. He starts undoing his belt as he tells you "I can just walk out of here if you want. We can act like nothing happened but the way you're squeezing your legs tells me you probably don't want that huh?"
You just reach out to his pants slightly tugging at them trying to signal for him to pull them down. "What happened to you huh? What about your parents? You didn't learn this in church" Jay questions you with a fake pout on his face as he pull his pants and boxers down.
My Parents? How would they feel if they saw me like this...? you think to yourself but that doesn't stop you from slowly going on your knees like Jay tells you to.
You stare at his cock wide eyed and guilt filling your body because your mouth waters. "I- um I really shouldn't be doing this. My parents will be so upset." you admit twiddling your thumbs. So, when Jay stares at you with the same unimpressed look and shoves your head closer to him...
You open your mouth, tongue slowly poking out like you're scared of his cock. What are you even supposed to do? You lick his tip, and he groans lightly making your eyes light up. You feel so dirty, but you don't want to stop anymore. Your lips wrap around the tip sucking it like a lollipop and looking up at him.
"Come on baby. Stop playing around and take it." Jay harshly comments pushing your head further down. Your eyes squeeze shut as you gag around his length. He controls your pace holding your ponytail continuously dragging your head up and down his cock. Never in a lifetime would you have thought that you'd be doing this but something about him just makes you want to do whatever he wants.
As his moans grow louder you sit there letting him use you how he pleases. Tears fall down your face snot coming out of your nose as you gag even more while Jay groans. You can't breathe and start tapping his thighs, but Jay just seems to get more aroused.
Something fills up the back of your throat. Your eyebrows scrunch together, and you try to pull back, but he keeps your head steady, nose on his pelvis. You look up at him with teary innocent eyes and he's moaning. His hips buck once more before he lets you pull your head away and once you do; he’s looking down at you.
You're panting loudly and the white liquid spilling out the corners of your mouth. “Swallow it and stick your tongue out.” Jay tells you. His eyes are piercing through you, so you swallow sticking your tongue out showing him. He groans rubbing your cheeks.
Jay picks you up from the ground, hands on your face before kissing you. You're unsure of what to do I mean you don't know how to kiss but it doesn't bother Jay. "Are you okay? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?" Jay asks concern in his eyes it's like a totally different person from before. This is foreign to you, Jay's usually rude.
A smile grows on your face as you nod at him feeling the blush creep up on your face. "I- I really liked that." You look at the floor and he smiles at you grabbing your hand. Your smile drops when you hear the bell signaling that you're supposed to be in class.
You rush picking your books up and before you can leave Jay grabs your arm and pecks your lips. You push him off getting embarrassed and he smacks your ass as you walk out.
The speed of your heartbeat starts to increase as you wipe your eyes and mouth. Did you really just do that? You tug your ponytail to make it tighter as you run to your class. what were you thinking?! you can't do that again; you'll confess to Father Eri- wait no... no you can't confess...
It's been a month. You've been ignoring jay since the incident that happened in the bathroom. When he makes smart comments, you just walk away pretending you don't hear him. You made a deal with yourself to never tell anyone about what happened and that it will never happen again.
Currently you're sitting in your bunny's play pen cooing at her and playing with her. Small beads of sweat slide down your back after rearranging your room so Lola can have space for her little playpen. As you tie your hair up into a messy bun your mom calls you from the kitchen, so you pick up Lola and head downstairs.
"There you are hun! I need you to go in the garden and pick some fruit please. The Park's are coming over in about 30 minutes." Your mom says as she sets 6 plates of breakfast. She lightly hums a song from church playing on the radio.
Your eyes widen at her words and suddenly you're more conscious of the fact that Jay will be in your house. "The Park's? Mom but I have no time to get dressed and why are they coming over? Since when were we friends with th-" Your mom's soft sigh cuts you off as she wipes her hands on her apron before taking a couple steps closer to you.
"Don't be rude ___. They are very sweet people I bumped into Mrs. Park at the grocery store, and we arranged something. I have your clothes picked out they are in the bathroom. Quickly pick the fruits and get ready." your mom tells you kindly but sternly, so you grab a basket from the closet. You turn looking at the clock before walking outside with Lola.
While you put the last pieces of fruit in the basket Lola hops around you trying to eat some strawberries. You look down at her smiling picking her up and quickly rinsing a strawberry giving her one.
You walk inside setting the basket on the kitchen counter. 20 minutes... you rush upstairs kissing Lola's head and putting in her cage making sure the door is secure. You open your closet grabbing your towel and make your way to the bathroom.
The warm water hits your body, and you think back to that day in the bathroom. You feel like it's hot down there. You squeeze your legs together wanting to cry because you don't understand the feeling that's been going on for the past month. "___!! Hurry they are going to be here in 10 minutes!!" your mom yells from outside the bathroom.
You rush out the shower quickly changing into a white sundress your mom set out for you. You settled on putting your hair in pigtails using your favorite bow hair ties and quickly putting on some makeup. As you make your way downstairs there's a knock on the door. You open the door and you're met with Mrs. Park smiling sweetly next to Mr. Park and Jay.
Your mom comes greeting them as you hug Mrs. Park and bow. Your mom asks you to set the table as she goes outside to show Mrs. Park the new flowers she planted. Your dad talks to Mr. Park and Jay in the living room as you get some juice out to put on the table. "Honey come here for a second." your dad calls.
Trying not to physically sigh as you turn around walking towards him. Your hands are shaking you can feel Jay staring at you. "Jay got a pet bunny just like you hun!" he informs you and you look up at him suddenly interested. "R-really? What color is it?" you ask him.
"He's black and has a white spot on his eye." Jay answers smiling slightly when he sees you gasp. You didn't know Jay would be the type to own a bunny. "___ I didn't know you had a bunny. How old is the bunny?" Mr. Park talks to you as you nod your head.
"Yeah! She's 8 months and her name is Lola. I got her a month ago!" Mr. Park smiles at you asking for tips on how to care for a bunny since Jay isn't much of an expert. "Why don't you go upstairs with Jay so he can see Lola?" your dad proposes the idea and suddenly your mouth is dry. Jay tells him he'd love to see Lola.
"Dad" you mumble, and he looks at you laughing. Your dad tells Jay and his father. "Sorry ___ can be shy. Come on it'll be quick." You sigh walking upstairs as Jay follows you. Your dad never lets you bring anyone in your room so why would he let Jay. The walk up the stairs is silent as your dad's continue to talk.
Once you get in your room you close the door walking towards Lola's cage, but Jay just stares at you. "Were you ignoring me?" Jay questions you and you can't seem to make eye contact with him. He grabs your hand gently and you look up at him. You can't tell how Jay is feeling, you thought he'd be fuming but he looks almost sad. "W-what we did... it was wrong I know. It should have never happened... but I can't stop thinking about it."
You stare at his lips biting your nails, you quickly peck his lips. Jay looks shocked as his hands immediately find your waist. He pulls you in for another kiss moaning into your mouth. Starting to feel bold you place your hands on Jay's thigh and begin to whine. Pulling away from the kiss he mutters "You've been feeling needy for me? I have been needing you... so much."
Jay is not satisfied with the nod of your head. "Say it. Tell me that you need me." Foreheads pressed together as you look up at him studying his features. You whisper, "I need you... please."
He kisses you one more time before pulling down his pants and boxers. Jay gently reaches under your dress pulling down your underwear. The tiny bear patterns make him smile as he walks closer to your bed tossing your underwear on the floor. What he hasn't noticed is you staring at his cock you forgot how big he is.
"You're gonna put that down here?" You pull your hand down to your bare core shock all over your face and Jay just chuckles pecking your lips. "Jay I- I... that's not gonna go down there. 'S too big."
He turns you around and softly pushes you down to your knees. Guiding your upper body on your bed and kicking your legs open. He gets behind you spreading you apart. You put your arms behind you, hands trying to cover your lower body.
Jay grabs them and puts them on your lower back holding your wrists with one hand. The other trails down to your slit feeling how wet you are as you gasp. "Fuck... are you gonna be good for me and take it... hmm?" Jay asks and you whimper subconsciously rubbing your core on his hand.
Jay rubs his tip on your slit and slowly pushes it in. Tears prick your eyes, and you gasp loudly, one of your restricted hands try to grab Jay's wrist. He groans pushing more in as you tighten around him, pushing some of him out. "I'm sorry baby, you need to relax, okay? If you relax, I promise, I'll make you feel good." Jay coos at you.
He reaches down rubbing your clit and you softly begin to moan. He's able to push his entire length in. His head drops and he's trying to hold in his orgasm. Your warm walls make him never want to leave. He continues to rub your clit and starts to move giving you no time to adjust. He notices your face all scrunched up and tears streaming down. You feel so full it makes you feel like you can't breathe.
The burning sensation begins to feel like pleasure. You feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure. "Jay you- I... ahhh so good!" Jay removes his hand from your clit shoving two fingers in your mouth. "Fuck this cunt is so tight ugh" His thrusts are sloppy and inconsistent. To be honest Jay has no clue what he's doing, sure he and his friends talk about porn magazines they secretly found and kept, but he's never had sex.
His pace speeds up and his thrust are harder. The room feels hot and you're both sweating while the sound of skin slapping fills your room. Jay removes his hand from your wrists grabbing one of your pigtails and tugging on it. "Wait jay I think 'mm going to pee! Stop I have to pee!!" you yell at him hands grabbing your bedsheets for dear life, but he doesn't stop instead he goes faster.
You clench around him cumming all over him. Jay starts to see a ring of white appear at the base of his cock. You're in a daze everything is muffled as tears continue to fall down your face.
"Who knew you could be so dirty huh?" Jay whispers in your ear tugging even harder on your hair. Your sobs are muffled by his two fingers. His hips stutter as he cums and he falls on your back.
You two stay still trying to catch your breath. Jay gives you small kisses all over the side of your face. He plays with the hair ties that holds your pigtails. he notices that both hair ties have little bows on them cute.
"Can you... wear pigtails again? I... I like how they look on you." Jay nervously asks and you turn your head back to look at him. A dusty pink creeping up on your cheeks as you nod.
The door slams open "What are you gu-" shit.
@enhypens-hoe 2024 - do not steal, copy, or translate.
divider creds ᯓ★ @/xxbimbobunnyxx
#enhypen#jay enhypen#kpop smut#park jongseong#enhypen imagines#kpop fic#kpop imagines#park jay x reader#park jay enhypen#jay smut#jay enha#enhypen jay#jay x reader#park jay#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen hard hours#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fic#enhypen hard thoughts
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Riptide - Andrei Svechnikov
a/n: i'm in no way glorifying this kind of accident, but the idea just kind of came to me. it's a kind of angsty and heavy one, and if this is insensitive, please let me know and i will rework it. i didn't really know what else to do for this prompt :/
summary: andrei wants to take you on a beach trip but a traumatic event keeps you from going with him
word count: ~1.4k
Warnings: descriptions of riptide accident, mentions of death/injury, mentions of drowning
Andrei loved going on adventures and spending time away from the city during the off-season. Since their season ended, you’ve already gone on a weekend trip to the mountains, flown out to New York to see a Broadway show and a few other activities, and now, Andrei wanted to take a day trip to the beach.
There was one thing that you had yet to tell Andrei about, even though you’ve been dating for almost a year: you have a terrible fear of the ocean.
He’s tried getting you to come to the beach with him on trips to California or Florida, but you always make a believable excuse, how you’d rather go shopping at the mall with a few of the girls, or how you just simply didn’t want to go because you didn’t want to deal with sand everywhere.
He believed all of them, up until now, when he was trying to convince you to go with him and a few of the guys that wanted to take a small trip three hours away.
“Why don’t you ever want to go with me?” He wonders out of curiosity. You sigh as you set your book down, placing your bookmark in the place you left off. Andrei came back into the living room with a bowl of oatmeal for himself, plopping down beside you.
“Because the beach isn’t really my favorite. I prefer the mountains,” you say, but Andrei’s not taking it anymore.
“Is it something to do with me? You don’t want to be seen with me? Are you insecure? Because if so, you don’t even have to wear a bathing suit if you don’t want to, I-”
“No, Andrei, it’s not that, it’s really hard for me to talk about and I get anxious talking about it, so can we please leave it alone?”
Andrei groans in frustration, setting his half full bowl down on the table. He hunches forward and lets out a sigh.
“Could you just tell me? I’m starting to believe you don’t want to spend time with me. I really want to go there with you and I feel like you’re lying to avoid something. Or you don’t trust me.”
“I’m not lying, I just…don’t want to talk about it, please.” You pick your book back up, tears tingling in your eyes as he raises his voice slightly.
He shakes his head and storms out of the living room with his food. You breathe in and out deeply, the tears not being able to stay in any longer. Deep down, you knew he was right. He did deserve to know why you despised beaches, but it was a very traumatic memory that you don’t like to bring up or explain often.
Andrei had finished his food in the kitchen before he trudges up the stairs to your shared bedroom. You hear the door click shut rather loudly, most likely a result from him slamming it, and your shoulders shake with a sob.
After twenty minutes of just sitting and staring at the wall and your hands, you decide it’s time to make things right. Getting up from your spot, you slowly make your way up the stairs, pausing once more when you get to the bedroom.
Taking a deep breath, you step inside, finding Andrei laying in bed, a book propped up on his legs. He doesn’t pay any mind to you as you enter, taking a seat on the end of the bed.
“I got stuck in a riptide,” you whisper, facing forward towards the dresser, not seeing Andrei’s reaction. His eyebrows furrow together and he sets his book aside. He still doesn’t say anything, but his attention is fully on you.
“I was sixteen. My entire extended family took a trip down to Florida for a week during the summer. Everything was going just fine. Until one day, the currents were so bad, but they didn’t have any warnings posted. Next thing I know, I’m being dragged out away from my family, unable to break from it. I was under the water for almost a couple minutes, struggling. I was pulled from it by a lifeguard who was close by. If he hadn’t been coming over to check, I most likely would have died.”
You try to keep the tears in, but it’s no use. Recalling the story and remembering the exact feeling of every single second of that day, from having fun, to being under the water, to coming to on the beach, your family surrounding you. It was horrific. Andrei’s own eyes filled with tears as he hears the emotion and fear in your voice.
“I have never gone back to the beach or in the ocean since that day. And I refuse to. That’s why I never want to go with you. It’s too hard to relive, it’s terrible to even think of going to the beach and having all those memories and feelings rush back.”
Andrei remains quiet as he throws the comforter off of him and moves to sit beside you. Carefully, he reaches for your left hand and holds it between both of his larger hands, squeezing them here and there.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, hun. I understand why you wouldn’t want to go to a place like that anymore.”
“I’m sorry for not telling you. It was easier to brush it off and not think about it or explain, but I realize how that came off as not wanting to go with you. But I don’t even go with my family. They still take a trip down to either Florida or Alabama every year and I don’t go with them anymore. Haven’t since I was sixteen.”
“I’m not mad at you. I was frustrated because it felt like you were keeping something from me. I mean, you were, but this is different than what I was thinking,” he states, gazing over at you with a soft grin. “I am happy that you felt safe enough to tell me.”
“I trust you more than anything, Svech. I simply didn’t want to face reliving those moments by telling you. Which I just did, but my head is spinning so bad.”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, scooting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you for facing that fear and telling me.”
“It’s a scary thing but I knew you deserved to know. I felt bad for keeping it from you but I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. It was horrifying.”
“Do you mind telling me a little more?” With a pause and a deep breath, you nod and turns towards him. He takes your hand in his again, a comforting gesture in this vulnerable moment. “Did you have to go to the hospital?”
“I did. They had to make sure there wasn’t too much water in my lungs. I was there for a couple days, my family took turns on who came to visit and stay with me because I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Who would? That’s not something that anyone should go through, especially at such a young age,” he sighs quietly, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. “Did you go home after that? Or were you forced to stay there until the end of your vacation?”
“My immediate family drove home as soon as I got out of the hospital. They didn’t want me staying there and being scared. I couldn’t stop crying, so we left.”
“It’s good they were understanding of your feelings instead of putting their vacation needs over it,” he laughs softly, looking over your expression. His eyes were filled with sympathy, hating that you were still struggling with the experience nearly ten years later.
“I guess. Maybe it was because their daughter nearly died, vacationing wasn’t exactly a fun idea anymore,” you joke, leaning into his shoulder. “But yeah, I still have that fear and even the sight of a beach can trigger it. So believe me, I want to travel with you and take trips with you, but the beach is the last place I want to go.”
“I get it, baby. No need to worry at all, alright? I will plan a different sort of trip that we can both enjoy, yeah? I want the best for you, and I never want to put you in any sort of danger.”
“I love you, Svech,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. His hand cradles your cheek, holding you against him.
“I love you too. Everything will be alright. I promise.” He kisses your head and holds you tight against him. “How about a trip to Colorado?”
You smile against his shirt and nod in agreement.
“Now that I can get on board with.”
#andrei svechnikov#andrei svechnikov imagine#andrei svechnikov x reader#andrei svechnikov fanfic#carolina hurricanes#carolina hurricanes fanfic#hockey fanfic#nhl fanfic#nhl imagines#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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ok honestly i’ve been pondering why i’m so obsessed with gerry as a character, especially considering that (at least in tma) we only really hear him once. there’s a lot of other in depth characters to sink one’s teeth into so why gerry??? and i think i figured it out (at least for myself) and it’s because, as far as i’m concerned, gerry is jon’s character foil. while jon is cursed with a *lack* of knowledge he desperately wants, gerry is cursed *with* knowledge that he never asked for; gerry shows outwards devotion to the eye while never becoming an avatar while jon tries to reject it and becomes an avatar anyways; they are both used and manipulated as tools to further other people’s agendas (gerry by his mother, gertrude, and the hunters and jon by elias/jonah and annabelle) and they both run towards danger despite the damage it does to themselves. hell, they both get accused of the murder of evil book collectors that they didn’t commit and are forced to run from. i could really go on.
and i think that’s why jon is kind of enamored (is that the right word??) with gerry whenever he comes up in statements and eventually when he meets him. they mirror each other in a lot of ways and i think gerry is a almost a role model of how jon himself wishes he could be, using esoteric knowledge to help and save people rather than hurt them. unfortunately, jon was kept in the dark for so long that it made it hard for him to do so and eventually, in his becoming, it became antithetical to his nature as an avatar (he has to hurt people or let them be hurt in one way or another to gain knowledge) it’s also why gerry being the one to reveal the true nature of the fears felt very right to me, almost like he was passing the baton of “the eyes favoritest little guy” to jon.
there’s plenty of other characters that parallel jon in a variety of ways, but idk gerry just feels more equivalent in how he’s a victim of the narrative, gerry just has the benefit of being a knowing victim, if that makes sense. all to say, that’s at least how i read it and what draws me to gerry as a character, idk about everyone else tho. thanks for reading my silly ramble <3
Ohhh this is interesting and definitely makes sense!
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Can they make a post with their opinion on young alicent please? (English is not my first language, I hope I used the pronouns correctly. If not, I apologize)
Hello! I’m sorry this took me so long, I had written out this entire response and somehow tumblr fucking ate it.
So for starters, you didn’t quite get the pronoun use right, but that’s totally fine and I really appreciate you trying! Pronouns and the english language are a bitch to learn. So when someone’s pronouns are ‘they/them’ those pronouns only replace gendered pronouns- (he/his/he’s/she/her/hers/she’s). Non gendered pronouns (you/your/you’re/yours) are entirely fine. So this would’ve been ‘Can you make a post with your opinion on young Alicent?’. If you were then to talk about me, it’d be ‘I asked watcherintheweyr to make a post about their opinion on young Alicent’ or ‘Watcherintheweyr made a post explaining their thoughts on young Alicent because I asked them.’
Don’t feel bad pls- the English language is a total bitch, and genuinely you put more effort into trying to get it right than a lot of native english speakers who I interact with. And I really do appreciate it.
anyways, on to your question!
So while I have a lot of sympathy for young Alicent in a lot of ways- I don’t like her, and I never did. For starters, I absolutely despise that the show isolated Rhaenyra and made Alicent her only friend and companion, which was untrue in the books and also makes no sense for how royalty works. Rhaenyra, as the only princess, would’ve have a sizeable ‘household’ of young ladies around her age. Those girls would’ve been essentially her helpers and her companions- she would’ve been in lessons alongside them, and they would’ve worked together in matters of court, politics, and events. Canonically she had a gaggle of young girls she was very close to- to the point that when (SPOILERS) Rhaenyra is murdered by Aegon, her ‘youngest and gentlest’ lady, Elinda Massey, purportedly gouges out her eyes from the trauma and horror.
Also, I despise that Laena Velaryon’s story and importance in Rhaenyra’s life was sacrificed for Alicent Hightower- including their deeply hinted romantic connection.
Anyways, moving on. Alicent Hightower.
Ultimately, I think that Alicent is a tragic example of what happens when you buy into oppressive regimes- further and enable them because you think you’ll be rewarded for sacrificing others to those regimes, and realize far too late that you won’t. She has 100% bought into the Faith of the Seven and Otto and Westeros’ sexism, and she serves that system in the hope that she’ll be rewarded for it, for playing by the rules and sabotaging the power and autonomy of other women- especially Rhaenyra. And all the seeds and groundwork are THERE from episode one if you pay attention. Alicent is a self-righteous hypocrite and not nearly as intelligent as she thinks she is- and she is also a victim of Otto, Viserys, and the patriarchy. I also think she was never a good friend to Rhaenyra- and that she never really knew Rhaenyra.
(This post is going to be VERY long, so buckle up)
In episode one, we see very quickly that Alicent doesn’t understand Rhaenyra well, if at all. She makes the comment that Rhaenyra is ‘disagreeable’ when she’s worried- and is promptly baffled that Rhaenyra’s worry is not her position or about being ‘overshadowed’ for a son- that Rhaenyra genuinely hopes her father will get the son he’s wanted for her entire life, and that her only true worry is her mother. Emma D’Arcy and Milly Alcock both press that Rhaenyra is fully aware that due to her gender that she isn’t ‘enough’ for her parents or the realm, that she’s seen as lacking or deficient. Alicent doesn’t seem at all aware of this. Furthermore, Alicent’s question is… Odd. At this point in the story, Rhaenyra is only ‘a’ princess. She isn’t the heir- Daemon is. The only ‘overshadowing’ that could occur is Viserys’ already fleeting and inconsistent ‘love’ becoming even less present. And Rhaenyra is already expecting this; but Alicent presses more of Rhaenyra’s ‘position’.
Now bear in mind- in the past 10 years, 14 year old Rhaenyra has had to watch her father insist on and continually risk her mother’s life and health, and she’s had to mourn 5 siblings- some born, others not. So Rhaenyra being ‘disagreeable’ when she’s worried makes sense. But when she doesn’t budge on not wanting to talk about/prioritize her ‘position’, Alicent gets huffy and makes to leave. She then appears to be entirely stunned when Rhaenyra verbatim recites the current passage of history that they are learning from their Septa. This piece of information is given to us to set up and establish Rhaenyra’s clever mind and interest in learning- of the 5 episodes we have of Young!Rhaenyra, she is shown to be actively listening to and learning from her superiors in just about all of them, reading and learning from books in 3 of them, and utilizing courtly intrigue, manners, and speak in 3 of them to shut down opponents or disrespect. And yet Alicent is entirely taken aback by Rhaenyra doing this; which again lends itself to the idea that she doesn’t actually know Rhaenyra very well. In the script, at the end of the episode, it’s also expressed that Alicent doesn’t seem to understand Rhaenyra being stressed/worried about her investiture as heir- in her eyes, Rhaenyra now has everything anyone could want. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra has now been revealed the truth of why Aegon conquered the seven kingdoms- and has now been entrusted with learning to rule and govern the kingdoms, and to nurture and protect the legacy meant to fulfill this prophecy- and she is shown to be very aware of and affected by the weight of this.
Alicent, meanwhile, has become a pawn in her father’s bid for power, and a victim to his ambitions, and to Viserys’ sexism and passivity.
In episode 2, Alicent has been seeing Viserys in secret for six months- and notably, it’s 6 months into their meetings that Viserys expresses that he wishes for her not to tell Rhaenyra, as he doesn’t think she would ‘understand’. We see that she is harming herself and Otto doesn’t appear to care about it in any way more meaningful than why she would do so when she’s the most beautiful girl at court- a thing to be envied and admired. We also in this episode see how fully she has bought into the realm and the Faith’s sexism. When Rhaenyra comes to Alicent about her fears of the plots of the lords to marry her father off again now that his period of mourning is coming to an end, and as such they would be plotting to supplant her. She is struggling, because it’s shown that she is trying to act as heir, to learn and participate- because she WANTS this, wants to be heir, wants to do it and do it well- but Otto undermines and humiliates her, and Viserys simply lets it happen- practically enables it. She expresses her fears of these plots and her frustrations and desire to be the heir, to be more and grasp for more than she would’ve ever been allowed as ‘Viserys’ little girl’.
And Alicent’s response is to dismiss Rhaenyra’s fears- to tell her friend and the named heir to the throne that it ‘isnt their place to question the plots of kings and men’. Because Alicent does not believe women can or should hold genuine power- like she says in episode 9, women are meant to ‘gently guide those who [rule]’. And she does this while she is actively a part of one of those very plots that Rhaenyra fears. Now, bear in mind; I am fully aware that Alicent is a victim to her father’s ambitions, and Viserys’ complicity. It’s not Alicent’s fault what these men do to her. And it’s understandable why Alicent wouldn’t want to tell Rhaenyra, in a lot of ways.
That doesn’t change that both Alicent AND Viserys broke Rhaenyra’s trust and hurt her- and she is shown later to be trying to create distance from them- because they have both shown that Rhaenyra cannot trust them. Viserys because he’s self-serving and blind, and Alicent because her ultimate loyalty and obeisance will always be to her father, not Rhaenyra. And Rhaenyra is keenly aware of this after the reveal, even though it is never made clear to Rhaenyra that Alicent wasn’t seeing Viserys in secret of her own volition. That doesn’t change that for six months, since the *night* of Aemma’s funeral, Alicent was seeing Viserys in secret, whilst dismissing Rhaenyra’s fears of that exact sort of plot to her face. That doesn’t change the fact that Rhaenyra has every right to feel hurt, feel betrayed, and not want anything to do with Alicent- or Viserys, beyond what she cannot avoid.
On a note that’s entirely personal, while I know that Alicent was attempting to share something important to her with Rhaenyra in an attempt to help her feel better, to me, Alicent having Rhaenyra partake of her faith felt… strange. Rhaenyra, who named the dragon she shared a cradle with after a goddess of Old Valyria and who has no idea how to pray in a Sept to the Seven, clearly either is not religious or follows Valyrian faiths- and considering her Valyrian marriage to Daemon, it’s likely the latter. Personally- I would not want a friend of mine to try and have me participate in their religion, and I wouldn’t push them to participate in mine either. For me, that was just uncomfortable; but again that’s a purely personal issue.
In episode 3, we see these traits of Alicent’s repeat, as well as her inability to introspect or consider someone else’s feelings. Immediately in the Godswood she uses her ‘weight’ as queen to disregard Rhaenyra attempting create space and distance between them. And while yes it was on command from the King- the way Alicent does it is almost… Smug. She then attempts to tell Rhaenyra that ‘things need not be this way’- as Rhaenyra, upset, goes to change and ready herself for the hunt, despite the fact that this is the last place she wishes to be. Alicent is upset at the loss of her friend, and likely lonely- but she disregards Rhaenyra’s feelings entirely. This is further compounded by the scene in the carriage.
Despite the fact that she and Alicent are not friends, nor truly even speaking, Rhaenyra, who watched her mother struggle and suffer pregnancies, and lose multiple babes and her life, expresses concern that Alicent is traveling in her condition. In an incredibly clumsy attempt to soothe her concerns, Alicent makes the comment that ‘Aegon came quickly and without fuss.’ Again; i understand that this was a very clumsy attempt to ease Rhaenyra’s worry, however everyone in that carriage sees how poorly the comment lands, and Alicent makes no attempt at apology. ‘Aegon came quickly and without fuss’ is.. very insensitive to say to the girl that lost her mother to the childbed, and especially when you are quite literally sitting in that mother’s place- when you’ve replaced her because her last child killed her and died alongside her. If she had made any attempt at apology (the way Rhaenyra did when she saw a comment she made while expressing her frustrations hurt Alicent in e.4), that would be one thing; but she doesn’t.
Rhaenyra is heir- and canonically the only duty she has balked at is marriage. She is currently desperately holding on to being ‘the heir’ with everything she has- because it is all she has, the only thing that doesn’t make her replaceable with the new family that Viserys is building with Alicent- and as such it’s understandable that she doesn’t wish to go to Aegon’s second Name-day celebration, as she is keenly aware of the thing Viserys is blind to and that Alicent is passive to; the realm considers a 2 year old boy child more valuable and more worthy than the 17 year old princess who has actively been learning to be and acting as heir for three years at this point. Alicent’s uncle, Hobart Hightower, welcomes them by crying out ‘All Hail Aegon the Conqueror-Babe, second of his name!’ and neither Viserys nor Alicent does anything. Hobart is not corrected, nor taken to task, and the crown is rabidly enamored with the two year old child all because his genitalia makes him more ‘valuable’ than Rhaenyra. By calling Aegon ‘second of his name’ Hobart is saying the quiet part out loud- the realm all expects and wants for Aegon to be heir, for Rhaenyra to be set aside. Alicent is the queen- but she doesn’t care enough to correct her uncle, either because she does already think her son should be heir or because she doesn’t think it’s a woman’s place to correct a man.
Later in this same episode, she gives an incredibly half-hearted defense of Rhaenyra when Otto begins to speak literal treason- but she does bend to his will yet again, and goes to Viserys with the intent of pushing Aegon’s claim. She is aware in *episode 3* that her father is conspiring against Rhaenyra’s ascension, and she never says a word of it to Viserys or Rhaenyra, because she is Otto’s creature first, and because she agrees- Rhaenyra is a woman, and thus cannot and should not rule.
Episode 4 and 5 really bring Alicent’s hypocrisy and self-centeredness to a head and set the stage for the cruel abuser that she becomes. She is the story of a victim-turned abuser, in the end.
It starts out more positively, with Alicent and Rhaenyra attempting to rekindle their friendship, and discussing Rhaenyra’s tour. Alicent expresses an almost childish lack of understanding of the truth of Rhaenyra’s courtship tour- calling it romantic, seeing it as something dreamlike. Rhaenyra exposes the cold truth of it- after we had earlier seen that none of the options she’s offered (that we see) are actually suitable. She uses courtly manners and speak to have Lord Dondarrion essentially take himself out of the running, by getting him to speak of his age and simply agreeing with him- and is then presented with a literal child. She is fully aware that every man ‘courting’ her doesn’t love her, doesn’t want HER. They want her valyrian blood. They want their children to be dragonriders. They want proximity to the throne and power. Rhaenyra has to choose a consort; and the consequences if she chooses wrong are disastrous. She could choose a man who turns her into what Viserys did to Alicent and Aemma, she could choose a man who utilizes Westerosi patriarchal views and values and turns her into a puppet queen so that he has the actual power, or she could choose a man who is, ultimately, weak- and thus would not be able to support her claim, would not be able to support or defend her when she ascends. She expresses these frustrations- but when she sees one of her comments hurts Alicent, she immediately holds her hand and squeezes in an attempt at comfort and apology.
Alicent expresses that she has found that she has few friends, lately; and this comment is.. Interesting, in what it says of Alicent. That even at the height of female power in the realm, she cannot inspire loyalty or affection in those around her, that the only prospect she has for a friend is her childhood companion. Rhaenyra expresses a hope to grow closer again as well; but well.
Immediately we shift to the scene in the Godswood where Alicent confronts Rhaenyra with her father’s accusations. She comes into the confrontation immediately condescending and judgemental, looking down on Rhaenyra’s rebellious and adventurous nature, as well as her ‘queer Targaryen customs’, and the ‘crimes’ of which she is accused. Because remember; at this point, Alicent has bought entirely into the way the realm and the Faith views women; women who follow the rules, subservient and obedient, never reaching for more, sacrificing and doing their duty, are good, should be rewarded. Anything else is morally deficient, wrong, lesser. Given this and how she approaches the conversation; it is entirely understandable that Rhaenyra doesn’t trust Alicent, and relies on misdirection and her mother’s memory as well as their former closeness to protect herself, because through this entire conversation, it is obvious that if she knew the truth, Alicent *would not protect Rhaenyra.*
Now remember, Alicent speaks with Viserys in ‘defense’ of Rhaenyra- and she knows FULLY well that Viserys doesn’t believe that nothing happened, that Rhaenyra is restless, chaotic, and willful, and that she would have done as she pleases. (Made worse by Viserys bemoaning that Rhaenyra is ‘just a girl’ when 5 years ago he married Alicent and has had 2 children by her at this point and will have 2 more- plus he has been pushing and pressuring for Rhaenyra to marry for at least 3 of those years.)
Later, when Otto is dismissed, Alicent states what we all know to be true; he got himself into this position, because he kept pushing for Aegon to be made heir, to the point of committing treason and spying on the princess, salivating for a moment where she misbehaves that he can use against her. Here we see Alicent begin to believe the seeds Otto has been planting; that Rhaenyra would kill her siblings to secure her ascension. (Remember, the whole reason of the juxtaposition between the boar and the white stag in episode.3 is to directly contradict this. Rhaenyra attacks and kills the boar only because it harmed her and her knight. Killing the white stag would have helped her- it would have made the lords of Westeros see her as chosen, especially since she caught and killed it the day AFTER Aegon’s name day, and it revealed itself to HER [symbolizing that yes, Rhaenyra is the rightful heir and the RIGHT heir]. Killing it would have given her legitimacy beyond legitimacy and silenced MANY of the tongues that are conspiring against her. However she shows it mercy- despite the fact that its’ death would have served her) Despite having once ‘loved’ Rhaenyra, and ‘known’ her, somehow these lies make sense to Alicent and she believes them. (Furthermore, she somehow is shocked in ep.9 that the reverse is true- that to secure Aegon’s ascension, the easiest and most acceptable route to all the men around her who wield the true power, is to kill Rhaenyra and all of her children).
When later Larys mentions the delivery of a tea to Rhaenyra’s chambers on orders of the king (despite, again, her KNOWING that Viserys doesn’t believe nothing happened) she decides to look further into the matter; even though clearly Viserys wishes it dead and buried, left behind in the dust of her father’s departure of the capitol.
In ep.5, when Alicent discovers that Criston Cole slept with Rhaenyra, it all comes to a head. Despite the fact that Rhaenyra didn’t ‘lie’ (she did not sleep with Daemon), in this moment, Rhaenyra has solidified herself in Alicent’s mind as morally deficient, as less, and it infuriates her. The fact that Rhaenyra has taken charge of ehr body and autonomy in a way that Alicent would never have dared infuriates her; because a part of her had always accepted and even wished for what she assumed would be the order of things. That Rhaenyra would ‘sacrifice and do her duty’ and lay down to suffer the whims and wills of the men around them at Alicent’s side. That they would be united in that suffering. That they would be defanged and declawed the way the Faith extolls women must be, to ‘gently guide’ the men in power alongside them. (Ironic considering how later Alicent utterly fails in ‘guiding’ every man in power around her.)
Alicent has followed every rule and every tradition, does her duty no matter the discomfort, and the fact that Rhaenyra is daring to grasp for more, for power of her own, for happiness and autonomy, and isn’t being punished for it infuriates her. Infuriates her to the point that only Rhaenyra’s trasngression matters. To her, it doesn’t matter that Criston Cole broke his vows and slept with the princess because he valued desire over duty (as explicitly stated by Fabien and by ep.4’s directors)- he is a man. Only Rhaenyra must be punished. It doesn’t matter to her that Rhaenyra has bowed to her father’s will and that the choice of who she will be marry has been taken away from her so that he can use her to fix the political wounds he has caused; from this point forward, nothing Rhaenyra ever does will be enough for Alicent. Supplying heirs to the throne and Driftmark? Not enough- especially since Rhaenyra doesn’t assault her gay husband to do so. Acting as heir and putting forth wise, responsible suggestions in politics and problem-solving in the small council? Absolutely not, especially since in Alicent’s mind Rhaenyra has no business ruling over the men in the Small Council. Ruling from the heir’s seat of Dragonstone in preparation for the throne? Not enough. Offering apology when the poison that Alicent has been feeding her children about Rhaenyra and her children causes a fight between the children where her son is injured after throwing around death threats and claimed a dragon without the King’s leave (which IS established to be necessary in Jaehaerys’ reign) Not enough- she must have Lucerys’ eye as well. From this point on, *nothing Rhaenyra can or will do will ever be enough.*
And the irony is that her own hypocrisy never takes herself into account. She uses a dress to declare war at a wedding; insulting the Velaryons and her stepdaughter, and she faces no consequences for doing so, nothing for the disrespect- but only Rhaenyra ‘never’ faces consequences, right? Criston Cole murders a knight of the kingdoms and strikes the future king-consort to the Kingdoms- and Alicent protects him from every consequence, brings him into her own household as her own sworn knight.
In essence; young Alicent is a victim of the Faith, the Patriarchy and the men around her; but all of the seeds for the abuser that she becomes are there. She’s a hypocrite, blind to anything that doesn’t fit the narrative she wishes for, and to a degree, very narcissistic, and not as clever or as powerful as she thinks she is.
Mind you her being self-serving or self-absorbed isn’t some unforgivable crime; but in juxtaposition to how Rhaenyra expresses concern and care for her at multiple points, it just sits very poorly, for me.
Moving on;
Alicent, when younger is… Deeply interesting, deeply flawed, and incredibly tragic. Her younger self sets the stage for how her story ends; (SPOILERS) with her outliving all her children and grandchildren, all of them dead for her grudges and ambition, with her mad and alone.
She’s also, in some ways, very clever; she’s observant, knowing much of the court gossip, even potentially dangerous secrets in e.1 (speaking of that one Lady’s ‘swollen belly’ aka suspected pregnancy). She’s very duty-oriented, though mostly because she wants to be rewarded for how dutiful she is. She’s subservient to the men around her due to how Otto uses her, and short-sighted. I don’t think she’s a particularly kind individual, but I think she did have the POTENTIAL to be kind. She’s a little boy-obsessed- she was confirmed to have had a crush on Daemon and on Criston, plus how she viewed the courtship tour as ‘romantic’, but she’s also so obsessed with Rhaenyra that it blinds her to the truth both of herself and of Rhaenyra- obsessed with an image of Rhaenyra that isn’t actually the truth. She takes solace in her Faith, it seems, more than anything else, and she struggles to connect to people around her in meaningful ways. She has moments of deep insight- such as how she told Rhaenyra that any effort in hers and Viserys’ relationship would have to come from Rhaenyra, as Viserys, a man, is useless to ‘the language of girls’. She doesn’t like risks (no interest in flying with Rhaenyra) or adrenaline, and likely pursues only more ‘feminine’ pursuits- canonically we know Rhaenyra loves to ride horses and to fly Syrax, to hawk and hunt, loves fashion- even in the book I’d say Rhaenyra is a ‘fashionable’ tomboy in a lot of ways. But we don’t really know.. ANY hobbies of Alicent’s. We don’t know her passions, we don’t know her interests outside of the Faith and the ambitions of her family.
We don’t know her relationships with her children or motherhood- though we know she’s jealous of what a good mother Rhaenyra is.
Honestly it’s a shame. S1 really needed to be 20 eps- 10 with the younger versions of Alicent and Rhaenyra, and 10 with the older. It would’ve let us KNOW the characters more and get far more invested in their fates.
Anyways this… is a novel. But I hope I answered your question alright lmao. I think Alicent as a character is very interesting- but good lord I don’t like her, and yeah I didn’t like her younger version either.
#anti alicent hightower stans#anti alicent hightower#anti alicent#pro rhaenyra targaryen#anti team green stans#anti team green#pro team black#i’m. not gonna tag this w character names bc i Know the alicent stans will come for me en masse and i’m not about that life#hotd critical
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Just ZRC things <3
“FLASH!” “THUNDER!”
Jokes from a decade ago that only make sense to them
Reading the other like a book
Like Chilled going “oh, Ze [did the most normal thing ever that literally no one else would bat an eye at], that means he’s bad :/“ and he’s RIGHT
Plus Ze going out of his way to be as unpredictable as possible and breaking Chilled’s mind
Cursed duo evil games where either they get steamrolled or they are driving the steamroller
^^^ think the casual one-round imposter games vs. the imposter games where Murphy’s Law is at its peak from like 2021 among us days
In lethal company (and actually a lot of games really) Chilled always wants Ze to make the decisions or be on his team because he’s smart
“What’s Ze saying? Should we buy [thing] or not?”
That one older mongus clip I can’t find the vid for where it’s like someone (I think NerdOut) addressing Chilled: “who do you love most in this lobby?” Chilled: “Oh, no. They’re gonna kill Ze!” Ze: “Noo! I appreciate it, but nooo!”
The inherent homoeroticism of the word “Buddy”
“Mr. Chaos” “Mr. Viking”
That one PW game when Ze referred to Chilled exclusively as “Chilled Anthony Chaos”
“It’s ZeRoyalChaos, get it right!!!”
If Ze feels bad, so does Chilled vs. if Chilled feels bad he has to suck it up. They are truly the best married-for-40-years-in-spirit couple ever
“Yeah, that’s a great ide- WAIT NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?????”
When they enter podcast-mode and just start reminiscing or chatting like they aren’t streaming
Chilled and Ze die first in TOS2: “They have great chemistry, they can talk to each other in death.”
The Lover-Shifter incident of 2021
“YOU SEXTED ME ON THE PUBLIC CHANNEL, DIDN’T YOU!”
Team Sicko my beloved (bonus: “There’s no risk, Ze.”)
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