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#mf got that sans eye

gojoshooter · 6 months

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On halloween night with boyfriend Sukuna

a/n: i couldn't wait to post this!! enjoyyy <3

Sukuna waiting outside in the car tapping his shoes impatiently as you do the final touches for your halloween party look because the obvious — does he need to try? He's good to go with a bloody wifebeater and skinny jeans to show off his thick thighs.

You literally painted yourself a vampire with bullet in the head and he mumbles “cute” as you enter the car... fix your man?

Okay you did look kinda cute. He's pulling and kissing your plush blood-red lips and grazing his tongue along those fake little fangs. Cute cute cute he coos.

Your pointy black nails are slightly smaller than his real ones, he notes, and they go nowhere else than his big palm that clasp yours all the way to the party. Oh damn your little red dress with black lace all over, that made him trip on nothing with how intense his gaze runs down your height.

He actually puts makeup to not go overboard the intimidation bar. You had to convince your madman to not show up in his true form — he's handsome both ways for sure, but that's not normal to find the father of mf special grade curses goofing at a sorcerer's.

Bold of you to think that would stop his menace genes, cause once you leave his side, he's coming for your two bestfriends. If passive bullying Yuji in his human-earthworm costume who runs almost in tears to Gojo wasn't enough, he calling out Megumi for his (actually pretty) devine dogs mask. Though the most reaction he got out of your raven hair friend was a pissed frown when your boyfriend calls him a “fury brat”.

And as if one personification of headache was less, there comes Gojo Satoru, your former teacher in his highschool uniform with a fake 'Inverted Spear of Heaven' up his neck to save his favourite student. That's a pretty cool idea — you mentally compliment.

“Sukuna-san... I won't appreciate troubling my students in my own house, you know. I'm here though... if you want to take this outside.” Despite the little rivalry they've been up on, it amazes you how similar their challenging look of intimation is, just a little bit cute.

“Coming from your biggest L-taker costume I suppose, Gojo-san?” oh, burn. That's enough, you're on cue as soon as Megumi holds down Gojo from jumping your boyfriend.

“Knock it off, Suku” you warn him, tugging subtly at his tattooed arm. You're more mad at the fact his chuckle did something to your beating little heart. “Can't take you seriously in this cute ass makeup, babe.” Megumi sighs as he walks his sensei away. As much stinky Sukuna's affection seems, atleast he's off the hook thanks to you.

“Alright, show me what your tiny fangs do and maybe I'll stop” he's provoking you now, of course his thousand years d!ck loves to rile you up, you know that. And you're not backing down today.

“When we're home.” your pretty squinted eyes rival his smirk when you press a finger on his chest, and his tall frame over your smaller one. Did he just notice your dark red contacts? Fuck, if not already, he's aroused now.

“Feisty? now that's my type of halloween” he complies with his signature killer smirk.

p.s.: happy halloween >-<!! how can I not write about Suku ^^ been days since i posted lmfao put up with my not so creative ass😭😭 likes & rbs are appreciated babies<3

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @4sat0ruu @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @nanamikentoseyebags @tojisun @whodoesthatanymore

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 months

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Napoleonville [Chapter 9: Clarence House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, Adventures with Aegon (ft. Sunfyre the Ferret), Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, and no more hints for you, start reading!!!

Word Count: 8.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Only 1 chapter left!!! 🥰🧁

He returns in an afternoon of inescapable golden sunlight, hot and muggy, bumble bees and ladybugs wheeling lazily above tall grass, cumulus clouds like tufts of cotton in a sky the color of Aemond’s eye. You hear him talking to Cadi—she’s out in the front yard making mud pies, earth for sugar and sprinkles of stray pelican feathers—and then the weight of his footsteps on the sinking, sloping porch. He opens the door, never locked, and walks through the living room into the kitchen. From behind, his arms circle around your waist; and you’ve missed him so much—dreaming of waves and storms, chains and blood—that you have nothing for him but softness, gentle smiles and a voice hushed with relief.

“How was Norway?” you ask as you roll out dough on the counter. You’re making a buttermilk pie.

“Fine,” Aemond says, resting his chin on your shoulder. But he sounds tired, low.

You turn around to look at him, raising your fingertips to his unscarred right cheek; he won’t tolerate you touching the left. You leave a dusting of flour across his skin like snow, which you have never seen in person and likely never will. The air conditioner is humming. The little pink Panasonic boombox is playing Africa by Toto. “Did something happen?”

“I just missed you.” Then he brightens. “But I was greeted by some very welcome news when I got back to the house this morning.” He’s wearing his neon teal duffle bag. He drops it to the floor and unzips it; inside you glimpse several Nintendo game cartridges, presumably for Cadi. And you think: I’m always here making things, he’s always bringing them from far away. Aemond takes two small dark blue booklets out of a pocket in the inner lining of the duffle bag and gives them to you. On the front of each is embossed in gold lettering, along with an emblem of a bald eagle: Passport, United States of America.

“…Aemond?!”

“There’s one for you and one for Cadi. I submitted the forms a month ago, but even with expedited processing it took this long. Ridiculous. What does the government do all day besides hunt down social programs to defund?”

“But…but…” You open one of the booklets. A photograph of your own face gazes back at you, serious and serene, taken against the white wall of your bedroom before you knew about Aemond being a Targaryen, or Christabel, or Amir’s exodus to San Franscisco, or the profound futility of everything, it seems. “How…?”

“I took the pictures, obviously. The rest was easy enough to find. You store birth certificates and social security cards the same place where you keep the business records that Amir showed me. Typically people have to go to a passport agency in person, but Criston and I have ways around that. Your signature might have been forged on the applications…but I suspect you won’t be filing any police reports.” Aemond grins, pleased with himself. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It’s definitely surprising.” You stare down at the passports, amazed. “Aemond…this is a lot. But you already know that.”

“The whole time I was gone, I was wishing you could be there too. And now I can take you anywhere.”

Your heart is pounding, helpless childlike exhilaration. “Where are we going?”

“Clarence House in London.”

London: it’s another world, a distant planet, a constellation whose name you don’t know, the lost city of Atlantis.“Clarence House? Is that a hotel?”

“It’s a royal residence,” Aemond says, amused. “It’s officially the home of the Queen Mother, but the whole family goes to Balmoral in Scotland every summer, and while they’re gone they often rent out one wing to guests, not just anyone, trusted people like distant cousins or longtime, aristocratic friends. And the Targaryens…”

“You’re marrying Christabel, and she’s nobility. So you’re basically nobility now too.”

“Yes,” Aemond admits, a little guiltily, perhaps. “But you’re the person I’m inviting.”

“And Cadi.”

Now he’s genuinely puzzled. “Of course. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

Maybe I can handle this. Maybe I can make this work.

And you climb onto your tiptoes to circle your arms around the back of his neck, embracing him, thanking him, thinking: Christabel will have his ring, his last name, his family’s mansion, his acquiescent kiss at the altar of the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens…but I have what he’s made of, dreams, soul, bones in the abyss of an ocean of blood. Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~

First class, cheerful stewardesses, an array of magazines purchased from a gift shop in New Orleans International Airport: the National Enquirer and Food & Wine for you, The Face and Smithsonian for Aemond, and National Geographic Kids and Zoobooks for Cadi. The Zoobooks animal this month is the eagle, how quintessentially American. You are served antipasto Italiano, shrimp cocktail, Perrier, and champagne (Cadi gets a Shirley Temple) over the Atlantic Ocean. Aemond shows you and Cadi how to chew gum to pop your ears as the pressure builds to pain. When there is turbulence and he leans in close to tell you everything is fine, Aemond smells like Wrigley’s Doublemint, cologne, Marlboro cigarettes like the logo on his red and white jacket. You press your palm to the cool window, and clouds float by through the gaps between your fingers. The world is older than anything you could fathom; the world is brand new.

There is a black limousine waiting outside Terminal 3 of Heathrow Airport. The driver gets out to load the sparse luggage: Aemond’s teal duffle bag, a frayed and battered rolling suitcase that you borrowed from your mother, a Super Mario Bros. backpack that you found for Cadi at Kmart. Aemond doesn’t have much time to spare, only 4 days, practically a long weekend; but it feels like an eternity stretches out in front of you as the limousine zooms through the narrow, winding streets of downtown London, Starship’s We Built This City piping from the radio. You have never had more than a few uninterrupted hours with Aemond before. Now you will have a hundred.

The London air is cool, grey, misty; fresh rainwater bleeds into puddles, dark pools of mirrorlike reflections. With the windows rolled down and clean slate-colored air unfurling in your lungs, Aemond points to the landmarks you pass: Gunnersbury Park, Chiswick House and its gardens, cathedrals, museums, shopping districts, centuries-old cemeteries, stations of the London Underground, the River Thames, Hyde Park, the Ritz Hotel, Buckingham Palace, Saint James’ Palace, and at last Clarence House. It is a boxy white four-story townhouse with columns at the entranceway that remind you of the Targaryens’ estate on the shore of Lake Verret, the beautiful yet temporary home they call The Last Desire.

Aemond says that the entire first floor will be yours for the duration of your stay. There is the Lancaster Room, red and gold, and the Morning Room of creams and weak watery blue. There is the Library, the Dining Room, and the vibrantly pink Horse Corridor named for its ample equine paintings and sculptures; Cadi immediately proclaims this to be the best part of the house. She lingers in the hallway examining the art pieces as you and Aemond proceed to the Garden Room, which looks out upon a sea of lavender and shrubs meticulously shaped into a maze no higher than your waist. It has a golden harp and a grand piano, and a vast bed large enough for at least five people, in your estimation. I wonder if Aemond has ever tried that, you think distractedly. I wonder if there are temptations I can’t satisfy for him.

“You and Cadi can have this room,” Aemond says. He keeps wincing and bringing his hand up to the left side of his face; you doubt he’s even aware of it. “I’ll sleep on one of the couches.” Of course he will; Cadi thinks you’re just friends, and she’s aware he’s getting married to someone else. He knew exactly what it would mean when he bought a passport for her. “Queen Elizabeth and her husband Philip lived here before she ascended to the throne. They loved it so much that at first they refused to move to Buckingham Palace, which is the traditional residence of the reigning monarch. But their insolence was worn down. No one gets to break the rules.”

I shouldn’t be in this place, you keep thinking as you gaze around at the portraits on the wall, the stiff unnatural photographs of royals, the vases, the chandeliers, the fireplaces, the plush intricate rugs, the garden on the other side of the windows. People like me don’t belong here. “Aemond, are you alright?”

“It’s my eye,” he confesses with an uneasy, apologetic smirk. “Sometimes flights…the altitude changes…it aggravates the nerve damage. It’s like needles in my skull. But I’ll be okay.”

“You fly a lot for work, don’t you?” You hurt yourself for Viserys, in body and soul.

“I do,” he agrees. He unzips his duffle bag and produces a bottle of Percocet. “Why do you think I carry these around?”

“Take one,” you say. “Lie down, rest. Cadi and I can entertain ourselves for a few hours.”

He’s relieved, he’s grateful. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You can even borrow the bed.”

“Back between your sheets, huh?” Aemond says, in pain but smiling through it. He draws a semicircle from the part in your hair down to your chin, a weightless sweep of his fingertips like a kind breeze. “You are incurable. You can’t resist me.”

“I have my own scheme in mind.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” You grab the front of his Marlboro jacket, appropriate for the overcast London weather. He belongs here, this house, this city, this way of life. He wasn’t made for the primordial heat of the swamplands. You fold into him, close enough to tease, to quicken his heartbeat and momentarily clear the wounded furrows from his brow. “I want my pillows to smell like you. I want to breathe you in all night. It’s how I sleep best.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Aemond says, a little stunned; but he’s elated too. For a moment, you’ve distracted him from his suffering entirely. “I’ll roll around all over them. I will mar the bedding irrevocably, the Queen Mother will never invite me back.” And he watches as you leave, his gaze transfixed and meditative and—more than anything else—hopeful.

“Hey, honey,” you say when you find Cadi in the Horse Corridor, poking a 100-year-old oil painting that she is definitely not supposed to be touching. “Let’s go explore and grab some dinner. Aemond isn’t feeling great, but we’ll hang out with him later.”

“Is it his face?”

You are startled. She knows so much. “Yeah, actually, it is.”

“He showed me,” Cadi says casually, still peering up at the horse; and you remember the day when he took her out to the front yard after she said she wished you were more like her friends’ mothers. “He even let me touch it. Radical, right? It’s so gross, but super cool too.”

Aemond couldn’t stand for me to see how he was maimed, but he forced himself to endure it for Cadi. “What did he tell you?”

“That I should appreciate having a good mom, because not all parents treat their kids right. He said his dad let his eye get crushed. And he told me he’d bet $1 million that you’d snap someone’s neck if they hurt me like that.”

You reach out to skim your fingers through her dark disheveled hair, smiling faintly, fondly. Cadi doesn’t seem to mind. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“Can we get fish and chips?”

“Totally. I have 50 British pounds in my wallet, I assume that’s enough for dinner.”

“Wow! How much is 50 pounds in dollars?”

“I have no idea,” you say. “Let’s go spend them.”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the evenings, you, Cadi, and Aemond gather around the television in the Lancaster Room and help yourself to the extensive VHS collection stocked for guests. You let Cadi pick: Raiders Of The Lost Ark, The Terminator, Firestarter, the Karate Kid, Aliens. You make popcorn in the extravagant kitchen in the basement of Clarence House and the three of you devour bowlfuls of it as you giggle on the couch, engulfed with throw pillows and playfully kicking at each other beneath the blankets. One night at Cadi’s request you bake Betty Crocker’s Party Rainbow Chip cupcakes with mix purchased at a Tesco down the street; on another you make hot chocolate to sip from antique tea cups. Each day, Aemond has new destinations picked out to tour. You ride the Underground like true Londoners to the Hampton Court Palace, the British Museum, Westminster Abbey, the Natural History Museum, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, Tower Bridge, the National Gallery, the Kew Gardens, Imperial College where Aemond received the petroleum engineering degree he never wanted.

As he shows you the classrooms where he attended lectures and seminars—you aren’t sure what the difference is, though you can sense that there is one—Aemond doesn’t talk about math or oil drilling. Instead, he tells you and Cadi about the people he learned about in the history classes he managed to slip into his exacting schedule like splinters into flesh: Sir Harold Gillies who pioneered plastic surgery in his treatment of World War I veterans, Phillis Wheatley who was enslaved as a child and became a renowned poet and abolitionist, Boudicca who led a rebellion against the Roman invaders and upon her defeat succumbed to some tragic, enigmatic doom. Aemond loves stories like this, you can see the light that sparks into the crystalline blue of his right eye. There is nothing he deems more heroic than people who took circumstances beyond their control and made something worthwhile out of them.

The night before the flight back to New Orleans, you’re staring at the crown molding of the Garden Room as Cadi snores softly from the other end of the massive bed and silvery moonlight covers the world. You can’t stop your thoughts from roiling like the North Sea; you can’t stop thinking about desks and chairs and books and clever blue-blooded girls jotting down in their notebooks not cake orders but mathematical equations or dates of conquest. When you breathe in the smoke and cologne Aemond left on your pillows, it tastes dark and forbidden. You climb out of the bed, roomy Bob Dylan t-shirt, pink cotton shorts, hair loose and wild, bare feet.

He is outside pacing around the sundial in the center of the garden, puffing on a Marlboro cigarette and pondering the full moon. “Can’t sleep?” Aemond asks, exhaling smoke as he glances over at you.

“You must think I’m stupid.”

“What?” He stops pacing. “Why?”

“Imperial College,” you say. “And the sorts of people who go to places like that. You must have known a lot of women who could recite Shakespear and name all the kings of England, all of Jupiter’s moons. Things I never learned. Things that I have no use for. I don’t write books or design machines or study the secrets of the universe. I bake cupcakes.”

“And they’re brilliant,” Aemond says, smiling. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“No?”

“No,” Aemond insists. “I think that if you’d been born where I was, you would have done far more with it.”

“Aemond…” You walk across the wet cobblestones to meet him by the sundial. It’s been raining again. The night air is chilly, foggy, painting you with goosebumps. “You still have time to become who you want to be.”

“No. I don’t.”

It’s coming from somewhere, distant but still audible, a parked car or a nearby building: Kyrie by Mr. Mister. Aemond chuckles, flicks the end of his cigarette into the lavender bushes—surely against the rules—and takes your hands in his.

“I remember this,” he says as he dances with you slowly, clumsily; you don’t know the steps. Still, you don’t want him to stop. “In your kitchen.”

He remembers everything. “Right before we went to Olive Garden for the first time.”

He sighs, pretending to be exasperated. “Of course that’s the part you committed to memory.”

“I’ve held onto a few other details too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like how small the back seat of your Audi Quattro is.”

“A limousine would be far more comfortable. I should invest in one.”

You laugh as he twirls you and you trip over your own feet; he pulls you upright before you can fall to the slick cobblestones. And you think: This is real. No matter what happens between him and anyone else, what we have is safe and extraordinary and real.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cupcake,” Aemond murmurs through your hair, holding you without seeking more. “You and Cadi.”

You want him again, or you’re so close to wanting him that the line is less of a boundary than a quagmire, indistinct edges and quicksand that can drag you down to drown in it. “I never knew that this was possible. Thank you, Aemond.”

“It can be like this all the time.”

Not all the time, you think, knowing that there will always be Jade Dragon, the Targaryens, the stock market, the world, the past and the future, Christabel. But some of it.

Is that enough?

~~~~~~~~~~

Willis agreed to you and Aemond taking Cadi out of the country on one condition: that you return her to him the second you arrive back in Napoleonville. It’s late Tuesday afternoon when the plane’s wheels hit the runway and squeal to a halt. Aemond has left his red Audi in the Park-and-Ride lot. You collect the car and soar west on Route 10 into the red-gold horizon, chasing the setting sun.

“Daddy!” Cadi bellows when she throws open the front door of the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office, waving his gift bag excitedly. Inside is a refrigerator magnet, several packages of McVitie’s Digestives in different flavors, and a miniature red-coated Queen’s Guard to keep on his desk, perpetually covered with disorganized papers and crumbs from innumerable desserts. From her poster on the wall, Heather Locklear simpers at you. At the center of the dartboard, poor Tommy Lee is impaled in four different places.

“Comment ca va, cherie?!” Willis opens his arms to hug Cadi when she barrels into him. He guffaws, his eyes are shiny; he has missed her. “Ya had a real good time, I reckon?”

“It was totally tubular. But I’m glad I’m home now. Can I get a horse? His name is Patches and I love him.”

“Huh? What the hell ya need a horse for?” He peeks around Cadi to look at you, a curious blue gaze beneath the thick dark bangs of his mullet. “What’s she talkin’ ‘bout, sugar?”

Beside you, Aemond groans irritably. Then you hear a voice from one of the holding cells, almost always empty: “Hey, cake lady.”

“Aegon?!” you and Aemond say at once, and sure enough, when you check the last holding cell there he is: unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, blue shorts, rainbow flip flops, hair like he’s been in a hurricane, a new eyebrow piercing.

Aemond asks Willis: “What did he do?”

Willis picks up a clipboard from his cluttered desk and begins reading. “Possession with intent to distribute cocaine—”

“I told you, I wasn’t distributing anything! It was for me!”

“Aegon, shut up,” Aemond pleads.

“Possession with intent to distribute marijuana, possession of drug paraphernalia, possession of methamphetamine less than 28 grams, operatin’ a vehicle while intoxicated, possession of MDMA, possession of alcoholic beverages in a motor vehicle, operatin’ a vehicle with a suspended license, resistin’ an officer…” Willis flips the page. “Speedin’, reckless drivin’, disturbin’ the peace while in an intoxicated condition, possession with intent to distribute Xanax, theft—”

“What the hell did you steal?!” Aemond demands.

“Burritos. I forgot my wallet at home.” Now Aegon is indignant. “But I saidI’d get them back! They didn’t need to call anybody about it!”

“Aegon, Taco Bell does not offer payment plans!”

“I can release him to ya, I guess,” Willis tells Aemond in a slow drawl.

“I really appreciate that. I’m so sorry about him, I’m absolutely mortified, I’ll pay whatever fines you want—”

“Wait, no,” Aegon says, panicked. His hands are gripped around the iron bars. “I don’t want to leave.”

Aemond stares at him. “You’re asking to stay in jail…?”

“I can’t go home. Stephanie’s there.”

“Of course she’s there. You knew she was flying in for the wedding.”

“Please let me stay here until she goes back to Monaco.”

“Definitely not. How’s everything else?”

“There’s something wrong with one of the Lake Verret rigs. Viserys mentioned a…a…I don’t remember, a dirt dump or something.”

“A mud pump?!”

“Yeah! That’s it. That’s what he said. It exploded.”

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses, then remembers that Cadi’s still there. She gives him a sly grin. You messed up, she means. Aemond looks to you, apologetic, disappointed. “I’m going to have to drop you off and then head straight home. There are messes to be mopped up.”

“No,” Aegon moans as Willis unlocks the holding cell and then wrestles him out of it when Aegon resists. “No, I’m a felon! I’m a danger to the public!”

“Don’t,” Aemond snaps, and this time his brother listens.

You say goodbye to Cadi—she barely notices—but as you go to follow Aemond and Aegon out of the Sheriff’s Office, she has a question. “Aemond?”

He stops. “Yeah, Cadi?”

“Can I go to the wedding?”

“Weddin’?!” Willis exclaims. “Already?!”

“Not mine,” you say.

“You really want to go?” Aemond asks Cadi with some reticence. But he seems to be considering it.

“Well, yeah. Mom said she and Amir are going. You’ll be there. Lots of cake will be there. And I’ve never been to a wedding before. I want to see what it’s like.”

Aemond turns to you, then to Willis, searching for permission. “It’s alright with me,” Willis says. “As long as someone there is keepin’ an eye on her.”

“It’s your choice,” you tell Cadi. “If you’re interested, I have no objections. But you have to be nice to Christabel.”

“Christabel?!” Willis says.

“That’s Aemond’s fiancée.” And there is a collective uncomfortable silence: Willis nodding slowly as he squints at you, Cadi chewing on her thumbnail, Aemond looking down at his Adidas sneakers, Aegon staring vacuously at the Heather Locklear poster on the wall.

With Aegon squeezed into the back seat, Aemond drops you off at the home Cadi calls the Fall-Down House. The new house hasn’t closed yet, but probably will in the next week. The adolescent gator is sunbathing in the last of the daylight in one corner of the yard; you can hear the pink Panasonic boombox inside playing Another One Bites The Dust.

“Ho, you’re back!” Amir cries, jubilant. He hugs you energetically, staining you with the flour on his hands; he’s been watching the bakery while you’ve been gone and keeping every cent of the profits in recognition of his labor, as agreed upon. “How was London?”

You give him his souvenir: a purple t-shirt with Princess Diana’s face on it. “Rainy. Wonderful.”

“Did you have any kinky sex in the royal grandma’s bed?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “But it was…I don’t know how to describe it. Calm. Normal. Easy. Like we could live that way forever.”

“So you’ve decided to be his Camilla.”

“Some moments I have. Other times I haven’t. But more and more, I just…” You try to decide what you mean. “The thought of giving him up feels impossible. And Christabel…they’re so distant with each other, so disconnected, so platonic. Their relationship doesn’t feel real. Maybe I can ignore it. Maybe this is the best I can hope for.”

Amir pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose and raises an eyebrow. “It might feel more real in three days.”

The rehearsal dinner is on Friday; the wedding is only 24 hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You really should consider writing a cookbook, dear,” Alicent says from where she sits across from you. The dining room table is covered with flickering pink candles, bouquets of wildflowers, drinks garnished with cotton candy and Pop Rocks. Balloons bump against the ceilings, their long ribbons streaming down like the tentacles of a jellyfish. The stereo is thumping out Caught Up In You by 38 Special. Everything is pink and red: the colors of love. Yet just like at the engagement party, no one is talking about the couple getting married tomorrow. You could almost forget that there’s going to be a wedding. That makes it easier; and if denial is the terrain you live on now, so be it. That is far less agonizing than the alternative.

“Oh, no,” you demur, taking a sip of a cotton candy cocktail. You exchange a glance with Aemond, sitting several seats down from his mother. He is in a suit—black and white, fitted, faultless—and smiling, proud of you. “A book?! I couldn’t. Not in a million years.” I never even finished high school English.

“But all of my friends from home are captivated by your recipes, darling, and it would be so much easier if I could simply send them a copy of a cookbook rather than trying to describe every dish to them! Please consider it. Do you promise?”

“That I’ll think about it? Not too taxing a commitment. I suppose so.”

“Good,” Alicent chirps, then turns to whisper something to Criston, who drapes an arm briefly across her shoulders and gives her a reassuring little embrace. Amir is chatting with Aemond about San Franscisco. Christabel is talking to Helaena, who has been forced into a voluminous, magenta taffeta dress that she clearly despises; her chameleon Dreamfyre lurches around the table, occasionally stealing tastes of people’s food. Daeron, with Tessarion perched on the back of his chair, is trying to discuss something called seismic testing results with Viserys but getting ignored. Viserys is deep in conversation with Christabel’s father, the marquess, a large loud man whose booming voice drowns out everyone else. The two of them seem delighted, celebratory, very much in their own world. Their schemes have come at last to fruition. Christabel has several younger sisters in attendance—her bridesmaids—but no mother. You gather from pieces of dialogue you’ve overheard that her mother died when she was a child, a terrible and irreparable loss. Otto is so bored he’s flipping through a picture book about Kiribati. Aegon’s wife, Princess Stephanie of Monaco, is a headstrong, charismatic, and rather critical woman with short dark hair. She notifies Aegon each and every time he fails her, which happens frequently: You’re using the wrong fork. You missed a button on your shirt. You haven’t fucked me properly in over two years. You didn’t send flowers to my grandma’s funeral. This is evidently Aegon’s worst nightmare; he has disappeared upstairs in an effort to escape her.

Dinner is finished, and dessert has been brought by the servants. It turned out more like a crepe cake than a Napoleon cake—the layers of puff pastry didn’t want to fluff up as much as they should have—but no one seems to notice. This time, you and Amir knew the dress code expectations. You are both wearing black to fade into the backdrop like shadows, like distant memories. You are invited guests, but you are also locals, inferiors, recipients of charity.

“Where’s Aegon?” Helaena says. “He has to try this cake, it’s delicious! The cherry jam cuts the heaviness of the cream and pastry dough and makes it a perfect dessert for summer! And the color is delightful! It looks just like blood!”

“Where the hell is he?” Viserys demands, looking around, twisting in his chair. “It’s his brother’s rehearsal dinner, for Christ’s sake. One night of this importance and he can’t handle it? I swear to God, if he’s snorting or smoking anything up there I’ll have him committed to an institution—”

“I’ll find him,” you offer as you stand from the table. You have to visit the bathroom anyway, too many glitzy pink cocktails; two birds, one stone. You depart from the table and Aemond’s gaze follows you, a low heat that is building towards incineration, a baiting promise of dark euphoria that you can no longer pretend you don’t want desperately, defenselessly. Christabel gives you a sweet little wave. She is dripping in gold—dress, heels, jewelry—and seems happier tonight, more self-assured. Perhaps with the wedding so close, her trepidation concerning Aemond’s commitment has evaporated. Surely it is too late to call off the ceremony now. Tonight they feast, tomorrow they recite their vows, and then…

But no, you don’t think about the honeymoon. You will not allow yourself to. It can’t exist to you, and that is how you’ll survive this. Christabel will be in one universe, you in another, two timelines that never cross like something out of Star Trek. And the way she and Aemond interact is so impersonal, so untactile, that it is not so difficult to treat anything beyond chaste pecks on cheeks as an impossibility.

At the top of the staircase, Vhagar is lurking. She wags her long twiglike tail when she sees you and licks the knuckles of your left hand. You give her a pat on the head—and then several more when she whines as you try to leave—then at last she lopes off down the hallway.

Aegon is exactly where you’d assumed he’d be. He’s in his bedroom hunched over his computer and hammering furiously at the keyboard. There’s white powder on his fingers and in his thin mustache. On the screen, bizarrely, is what appears to be neon green grass and an ox-drawn wagon like the ones from the pioneer days. Sunfyre the ferret is stretched out across the bed napping, his angular face resting on his paws.

Aegon whirls around to face you. He is wearing a lime green satin suit but has forgotten to put on a shirt under it. “What? What? What do you want? I’m playing Oregon Trail. I have dysentery.”

“You have what…? Never mind, it’s not important. You need to come downstairs and eat some dessert. People are wondering where you are.”

“I’m busy.”

“If you don’t make an appearance on your own, Viserys will come looking for you. Also there are some Cap’n Crunch treats I left on the kitchen counter that you might be interested in.”

“Consider me tempted. I’ll be down momentarily.”

“You better be,” you tell Aegon, then retrace your steps back to the kitchen. Amir and Christabel are both there getting cans of Pepsi from the fridge and making very cumbersome small talk…or perhaps only Amir thinks it is that much of a burden. Christabel is chattering blithely away about different types of wildflowers. He gives you a look like Oh thank God, an excuse to escape and wastes no time heading back to the dining room.

“Did you notice what’s playing now?” he asks you just before he vanishes, then points towards the stereo in the grand foyer. You listen; it’s Money For Nothing by Dire Straits. “You think they know this song is about class warfare?”

“You should tell them,” you joke.

“Yeah, if I want to end up on Unsolved Mysteries.” Then Amir is gone.

“How are you doing?” you ask Christabel to be polite. You open the refrigerator and start hunting for your own can of Pepsi. “Excited? Nervous? You seem a little more relaxed than the last time I saw you. Are the wedding jitters finally dissipating?”

“They are,” she says, and when you glance back at her she is wearing a bashful sort of smile. It’s not an expression you can read. You resume digging through the refrigerator for a can of Pepsi; Amir and Christabel might have taken the last ones.

“That’s good,” you say noncommittally, hoping she’ll leave. But Christabel doesn’t leave. She seems to have something she needs to say. Just as you spy a lone can of Pepsi at the very back of the refrigerator and lean in to grab it, she proceeds to unburden herself.

“Well, you know, I was so concerned about me and Aemond before. I had no conviction that he especially liked me, and we never had anything to talk about, and he was so dreadfully undemonstrative…I was just beside myself, truly. I didn’t know what to do. But I feel much better about everything now. Norway was so good for us.”

Norway?

You close the refrigerator, your ice-cold Pepsi can clutched in your hand. You’re going cold all over. Slowly, you turn towards Christabel, glittering in her gold dress.

Norway???

“He took you on the North Sea trip.” You hear the words, but it doesn’t feel like you’ve said them. They sound flat and dazed.

“It’s a bit of a secret,” Christabel says; and again, her smile has no cruelty or sharp awareness in it, but her cheeks are pink. She’s blushing. What does she have to be embarrassed about? “My father doesn’t know. He wouldn’t approve. But I just felt…I felt ready, you know? I’m sure you understand what I mean. You aren’t so clinical and aloof about everything. I had to know if Aemond and I really had something between us before we got married.”

“You felt…ready?” Ready for what? Ready for WHAT, Christabel?

“I asked Aemond to take me with him. I begged, actually.” She giggles. “I won’t try to be proud about it! And finally he said yes. We stayed at a lovely hotel in Bergen, and during the day he would have to fly by helicopter out to the rigs, but at night…”

You’re staring blankly at her. You can’t believe what you think she’s going to say. Surely it must be something else, anything else—

“It wasn’t my plan to ever be intimate with a man before marriage, but sometimes…things change. Minds change, circumstances change. And I knew I wanted it. And it went so well! Now what do I have to be nervous about? All the uncertainties are resolved. Now we just sign the paperwork and start our lives together.”

He took her to Norway.

He slept with her in Norway.

“I hope it was just as good for him,” Christabel muses, a compulsive sort of oversharing. But she has had a few cocktails and she thinks you’re nonjudgemental and there’s probably not a single other soul she feels she can be truthful with…so why not the girl who got knocked up at prom and had a baby at seventeen? Surely she’s in no position to judge. “It’ll be even better once we can…you know. When we’re officially trying for a baby and there’s no need to worry about any precautions. I want Aemond to enjoy himself as much as possible. I want to be a good wife to him.”

You feel dizzy; you feel violently ill. And now you see everything: Aemond kissing her with his mouth open and ravenous, his hands between her legs, his hips pressed to hers, peeling off her clothes and learning how to make her moan, make her wet, make her come, and you think of how careful he must have been with her, a girl with no past, no ex-husband, no childbirth that nearly killed her, no stretchmarks and no baggage, just a smooth pristine rivulet of flesh that was so pure and uncontaminated it was weightless, and you can hear—though you don’t want to, though it feels like it will kill you—how tender he was, how encouraging, not a dominant who drinks down fantasies like a vampire sustained by blood but just a man, and a man who has at last found a woman he doesn’t need to grab, bite, bruise, handcuff to a bedpost to feel satisfied with.

He took her to Norway and he never told me.

You are saying something, and Christabel is nodding appreciatively, accepting the sage wisdom of a tarnished life. Your words don’t matter. They are folktales and charms, the croaks of bullfrogs, the whispers of the wind through Spanish moss, the Morse code of ripples in the water of the bayou. You are a novelty and your counsel is a souvenir; one day when she is living in California or Argentina or Australia or Alaska or her ancestral castle back in the U.K., Christabel will tell Aemond’s children: Once I met a nice single mom from Napoleonville Louisiana, and she told me to follow my heart and not let anyone shame me for wanting to be close with my soon-to-be husband.

Vhagar trots into the kitchen and begins nudging her massive head against Christabel’s bare knees. “Hi, big girl!” Christabel coos as she pets the blue merle Great Dane, clearly accustomed to this. “Who’s a giant gorgeous girl? You are!”

What did I expect? I knew they were getting married. I knew they were going to sleep together.

Yes, you knew it, but you hadn’t felt it, and now you have.

I can’t do this, you realize. I thought I could but I can’t.

“Christabel?” Alicent is calling like a windchime. “Darling, there are just a few more things we have to discuss before tomorrow, will you come back to the table please?”

“On my way!” Christabel replies obediently, and she gives you a quick, impulsive hug before vanishing.

I’m going to be sick. I’m going to have a heart attack. I’m going to drop dead right in the middle of this fucking kitchen.

Leaving your can of Pepsi forgotten on the countertop, you escape to the living room and then out the French doors into the garden. You run past the pool all the way to the pond full of multicolored fish you once hadn’t known were koi. You drop to your knees, then lie down on the cold cobblestones, and when it hits you again—Aemond touching her, Aemond loving her—you rupture into sobs that are breathless and shuddering. You try to stifle the noise with your palms; you clasp them over your mouth and smother your wails. It feels like you’re being ripped apart; it feels like you’re in labor, but there is no end, no consolation of a new life, no point at which your body chooses whether you live or die. It is only a razored wheel that turns in you again and again and again, shredding muscle and splitting bones.

There is a hand on your shoulder; someone is patting it awkwardly. You look up to see Aegon standing there. “Sorry,” he says. “You look…not good.”

“I’m really not good. I’m fucking terrible.” Your face is soaked and stinging with tears, your voice is strangled.

“Do you want some coke?”

“No, Aegon.”

“Do you want a ride home?”

“From you? Yeah, for sure, getting impaled by a stop sign would be a great next move for me.”

“I’m totally fine to drive.”

“Can you just pull Amir aside without anyone else noticing and tell him to say his goodbyes and then meet me in the driveway, please? He drove me here. I need him to take me home.”

“Okay,” Aegon says, and then: “Thanks for the Cap’n Crunch Treats. Thanks for remembering something I like and caring enough to bring more. No one really does that around here.” And he’s gone before you can think of a reply.

To get to the driveway without going though the house, you climb over a 5-foot wrought iron fence swarmed with rosebushes and ivy, no easy feat in a black Kmart dress and matching ballet flats. You acquire a dozen shallow gashes on your hands and forearms, but make it to the Ford Escort just in time for Amir to meet you under the full, cloudless moon, tossing his car keys from one hand to the other.

“What did—?” Then he sees your face. He gasps, knowing how bad it is. He’s never seen you like this. He didn’t know it was possible for you to look like this. He unlocks the Ford Escort and joins you inside, turning the key in the ignition. “What the fuck did Aemond do to you?!”

“I have to go home. It’s over, it’s over, I can’t do this.”

Amir is spinning out of the driveway. “Did he hurt you, did he—?!”

“He fucked Christabel in Norway,” you say, sobbing uncontrollably. “And I know I have no right to be jealous, I know we don’t have a conventional relationship, I thought I could handle this but I can’t. I can’t stop picturing him with her, and hearing it, and I…I…I don’t understand why this hurts so goddamn bad.”

“Babe,” Amir says gently, a palm on your trembling thigh. “You’re in love with him. That’s why.”

“This is killing me,” you whisper. You’re shaking all over. You feel like you’re battling for every breath.

Your best friend—your only friend—is quiet for a long time. “Don’t go tomorrow,” Amir finally says. “You don’t need to see the wedding. You shouldn’t put yourself through that. I’ll go, I can handle the cake alone, especially if Cadi’s with me to help with carrying plates and stuff.”

You don’t say anything. You stare out the nightscape window and mop tears from your face with McDonald’s napkins you find in Amir’s glovebox.

“Did you hear me? I don’t think you should go to the wedding tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” you agree hoarsely. “I can’t watch them have my wedding.”

“Willis is dropping Cadi off in the morning, right? I’ll pick her and the cake up from your house and bring her back when it’s over. You can tell her whatever you want…you have another cake order to work on, you’re sick, you’re injured, your mom needs a ride to the doctor, whatever.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

“Hey, look at me.”

You do, sniffling, shivering, in agony.

“You don’t deserve this. You deserve better than this.”

I don’t think I do. I think if I did, it would have happened by now. But you know Amir will not accept this answer. “Okay,” you say again, trying to make yourself believe it.

In the gravel driveway of your sinking house, Amir asks if you want him to say. You tell him no, you want to be alone, you have to think, you have to plan. Really, you just don’t want anyone to see you this shattered. It’s humiliating, it’s like you’re an animal, like something less than human needing to licks its wounds in a dark place. You walk into the Fall-Down House and flip on the kitchen light, artificial yellow luminance. You don’t start the air conditioner. You don’t touch the Panasonic boombox. You stand there mindlessly in the sounds of the bayou: cicada screams, owl hoots, the far-away hissing of gators. The wedding cake is in the refrigerator, banana bread, cream cheese frosting, a kaleidoscope of wildflowers painted by Amir’s expert hand. He’s leaving. Aemond’s leaving. Everyone is leaving.

There are tires crunching on gravel in the driveway, there are footsteps on the sloping porch. He is able to yank the door open because you never lock it. He blows in like a storm that kills.

“What the hell happened?!” Aemond shouts. “Why did you leave?! You didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye to me—”

“You took her to Norway.”

Aemond’s face goes from furious to lost. “Why would she tell you that?”

Not That’s not true, not Let me explain, not It didn’t mean anything. Your stomach sinks, a basket full of stones. “Because she thinks I’m her friend.”

“It wasn’t…” Aemond sighs. “It was a last-minute thing, and it was her idea. She really, really wanted to go to Norway, and I figured…you know…what’s the difference between the wedding night and a few weeks before it? So yeah, it happened—”

“Oh God,” you whisper, starting to sob again.

“And then I came home to your house, to your doorstep, because I missed you the entire time. The entire time, every hour, every minute, and there are no exceptions, okay, are you listening to me? I took her to Norway because I had to. I took you and Cadi to Clarence House because I wanted to. What I do with her is a reflex, an obligation, I’m on autopilot, I’m thinking of you to get myself hard, I don’t know how else to express to you how completely different these situation are in every single goddamn way.”

“She said it was good,” you say huskily, tears snaking down your cheeks that are raw from trying to dab them dry.

“Of course it was good for her!” Aemond flings back. “I’ve had a lot of casual sex, I know how to make women come, it’s a math equation, it doesn’t mean we’re soulmates!”

“I know I have no claim to you, but I…” You gaze out the kitchen window, dark and still, nothing to see but stars and lighting bugs. “I can’t do this.”

Aemond asks, kindly now: “What do you want?”

I want to not have to beg you to choose me. “I want this to be over.”

“No,” he says, panicking. “No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“You’re going to give this up as soon as it gets painful? I’m not worth fighting for, what I can do for you and Cadi isn’t worth a little pain? Because I’m no stranger to it either. You think I’m not hurting, you think nothing ever keeps me awake at night?”

“You could leave your prison any time you want to. But instead you built a brand new one around me.”

“You don’t understand what the kind of responsibility I’m beholden to feels like.”

“Yeah, a town named after Napoleon is the right place for you,” you seethe, enraged. “You’ve felt so fucking small your whole life that now you’re starving for what it tastes like to be in control. But I can’t let you destroy me. I can’t let my daughter grow up watching me settle for less than I need from a man. She’ll learn to live the same way.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Aemond,” you say, and you wait until he looks at you. “Do you really want children?”

When he answers, his voice frayed and his right eye misty. “I love Cadi.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want children of your own with Christabel?”

“I have to,” he says, miserable.

“No,” you plead. “You cannot have a baby with that girl. You can’t, Aemond. You are going to ruin so many lives, not just your own.”

“I have to,” he says again.

“Then get out. Viserys owns you, and Viserys wouldn’t want you here. He would want you back at the mansion impregnating your child bride.”

“She’s a legal adult, she’s 19, and she wants me, she begs for me, I’m not twisting her arm—”

“Then go!” you roar, striking him hard, both palms to his chest. Aemond doesn’t budge. “Get out, go home, go have kids you won’t give a fuck about just like Viserys never cared about you. Go repeat the cycle all over again. I’m done. I can’t be a part of it.”

“I won’t be like him,” Aemond swears.

“You will be. You already are.” You shove him again, but still, Aemond doesn’t move. You know what he’s waiting for, you know the right word to say. But you can’t get it to launch from your lips; it catches in your throat like a blade through the windpipe. “Get out!”

Your fingers hook into the lapels of his black suit jacket and stay there; you can’t let go. You’re both breathing heavily; you can hear it, you can feel the heat in the air. You keep his jacket gripped in your hands, he can move no closer, no farther away. When he leans into you, you breathe in his smoke and cologne; when his hands cradle your face, you feel the benevolent power that once gave you peace.

I want him. I need him. Not forever, no, I understand that’s not possible. But just for right now.

You look up at him and Aemond kisses you, his lips and tongue claiming you like untouched land; he puts down roots, he slits the jugulars of trespassers.

Here. Now.

You drag him down with you. When you drop to the floor, you strike the back of your skull against the scuffed, sloping wood and bite back a yelp.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aemond says, though it isn’t his fault; he reaches for your head and cushions it with his right hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You’re tearing open his white shirt; tiny translucent buttons go flying in every direction. Your palms glide over his chest, up to his throat, to his jaw, to knot in his hair. He reaches beneath your dress to slide off your panties, then buries his fingers between your legs. You moan helplessly, needfully, spreading your thighs wider for him. No man has ever been able to do this to you before: to make you forget everything, to make you feel—if only for a moment—beloved, worthy, chosen. He’s kissing you like he knows this is the last time. You’re touching the left side of his face and he doesn’t even notice, he won’t realize until later that there was a time when he was cured.

Aemond pulls his wallet out of the pocket of his suit pants, flips it open, and roots through it until he finds a condom. He starts to rip it open, moving with desperate speed, dire impatience.

“No, don’t,” you say. “Please don’t. I want all of you.” And I won’t get another chance.

He exhales in deep, ecstatic relief; he wants it too. You’re soaked, you’re ready, you’re aching for him like mending bones. He eases himself into you, gasping, and you are stunned by how good it feels already, how close you are, every rope of nerves and muscle glimmering with an opening heat that builds higher and higher, the reverse of a tornado finally touching down on earth. His hands are linked with yours and pinned to the floor above your head; he’s kissing you, he’s moaning into you, he thrusts deeper and harder when you beg him to do it.

Aemond untangles one hand from yours and reaches low to stroke you. Your fingers find his again and catch him, capture him, bring his hand back to the floor where it can be entwined with yours and his weight can hold it to the scraped wood. “I don’t need it, I’m close. Stay here. Stay with me.”

“I’m here,” he whispers, panting; and the friction of his body against yours overtakes you, and when you come it is blinding, bone-breaking, a whirlpool that traps you for what feels like over a minute, soaring highs punctuated by the illusion of fading over and over again until you think you can’t stand it, and only then does it end, Aemond collapsing on the floor beside you covered in your sweat and your wetness, you feeling the remnants of him bleeding down your bare thighs.

You drag yourself upright—muscles sore in your belly and back and thighs—and roll onto your knees so you can stagger to your feet. You tug on your panties so he doesn’t drip out of you onto the floor. Then you straighten the skirt of your black dress, turn on the little pink Panasonic boombox—it’s a U2 song, Where The Streets Have No Name—and begin washing a muffin tin that was left in the sink.

Aemond stands up and runs a hand through his hair, getting his bearings. He looks down at his pants and fixes his zipper and belt. He tries to close his shirt and then remembers you tore off the buttons. They lie scattered across the floor, useless.

As you scrub the muffin tin, you hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you. His palms begin at the small of your back and then skate around your waist to encircle you.

“Stop,” you tell him; and immediately his hands fall away. Aemond waits for you to say more, but you don’t. You don’t even look at him.

He walks to where the kitchen becomes the living room—you can tell by the creaks in the floor—and again, he waits. After a while he says: “I’ll call you when the new house is ready.”

“No. Have Criston handle it. I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

“You get that I’m in love with you, right?” Aemond forces out, and when at last you turn to him there is the metallic glistening of tears on his right cheek. “I never feel this way about anyone. I don’t know how to handle it, I didn’t even know it was possible. But it’s true.”

“It’s not enough,” you say simply, and resume scrubbing the muffin tin.

He waits in silence, thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes. Then the door opens and shuts—like the jaws of a beast—and he’s gone.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond

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prettyboykatsuki · 9 months

Text

not enough trust to believe (not enough feeling to care) | a. shinonome

✮ tags ; fem!reader (usage of she/her towards reader + mentioned to wear make-up), established relationship, making-up, jealousy, hurt/comfort, light angst / happy ending, aged-up characters (this is sfw), single suggestive comment at the end.

✮ wc ; 4k (how.. literally what happened.)

✮ a/n ; the minute i touch that app a demon takes over and i end up daydreaming about this mf and toya . peace and love i feel insane. also for what its worth i do think adult akito is very good at communicating his emotions in comparison to now so if u find him ooc my apologies.

title from rental by brockhampton. shoutout if u know what manga this panel is from lol. also if ur a minor please do not follow me. u r welcome to read.

"Y'know, Akito - you're being a bit of a hypocrite right now."

"Shut up, Toya." Akito grumbles, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the bastard you're currently giggling with "I'm not."

An laughs from the other side of the room.

"You so are being a hypocrite right now," An threads her fingers through Kohanes hair, the other currently seated on the floor while she styles it "What was it you said? It's nothing to get jealous over so don't worry."

"Akito-kun, it's not good to be dishonest."

"Kohane-san, you're being corrupted. I can't believe you'd join these two on this."

Kohane shakes her head.

"I'm not being anything. It's just not right."

An wraps her arms around Kohane's shoulders from above, chin resting on her head. Akito sighs, leaning his head back on the wall behind him with his eyes still closed - only bothering to open them again when another giggle falls from your lips. This time it turns into full blown heart eyes from that corny bass-playing bastard.

Akito Shinonome is not jealous alright? He isn't. So, this reaction is not by any means hypocrisy.

VIVID BAD SQUAD has officially been on tour for 6 months. This is their first international tour of their career, after releasing their first studio album. It was received well in Japan but surprisingly had more of an audience overseas. So, they'd been performing all over North America with another band.

You've been apart of the VIVD BAD SQUAD team for quite some time before then, working as a roadie for tours back home. Akito has been dating you for well-over a year, and so far - its been great. He gets to see you often and manages to sneak you onto the performers tour bus sometimes. He likes not having to be apart, even if he is incredible busy. A little is better than nothing at least.

A few months ago, the two of you got into a bit of a spat. You'd told Akito that you think he gets a little too friendly when girls come to meet him backstage. Went on a whole spiel about understanding his career and persona, that he doesn't need to be cold but that you wish he put a little more distance between them.

Akito had retaliated with the fact it's nothing to worry about. He's loyal to you and him being friendly isn't anything meaningful. You were upset about this reply and the two of you got pretty intense.

It took Kohane and An's intervention and plenty of convincing to get you two back on good terms - with An promising that she'd keep and eye out and scold Akito properly. You started talking again after that at least, and things went back to normal.

But nothing had really gotten resolved. You still seemed to feel upset every time he'd act too familiar with fans and Akito still didn't see it as a problem. To him it was just a fake part of the persona, and he didn't think it was like you to get so jealous about something like that.

Then, a few months ago - word got out that the bassist of the band they're traveling with has a crush on you.

FLASHBANG, a smaller indie rock band that everyone on tour is very fond of and a perfect addition to their set list. Both bands are friendly with one another. He'd assumed the news of their bassist having a crush on you was nothing more than some rumor. He just couldn't believe it having met them.

Sure, not everyone knew you two were dating but surely Akito would've noticed that before. He just wanted to double check.

It's been weeks now, and he's sure. Hiroaki Miura, bassist pretty boy, has a fucking crush on you. It's so obvious he has no idea how he didn't pick up on it before. He has no idea how you haven't picked up on it either.

He'd mentioned it to you just last week, just to see. You laughed a bit, but asked if he wanted you to stop hanging out with him as much or if there was anything you could do - all while assuring you didn't think that was the case.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can put some distance between us. Miura-kun isn't interested in me at all, though - I don't think. We're just good friends, we went to school together."

Ultimately he said that wasn't necessary. Akito stares at the two of you together now and scoffs. Haah. Good friends because you went to school together? He's practically making googly eyes at you.

"Looks like they're coming over here," Toya mumbles. Akito closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep, eye twitching when he hears Toya exhale.

"Hey, guys - great show! The duets today were just so vocally smooth and—oh shit, is he asleep?"

He hears An laugh and forces himself not to react. "Yeah. He was exhausted after today."

"Oh, really? Some sleep will be good then." The affection in your voice is so obvious he temporarily forgets whats happening until another, much more annoying voice comes through.

"You guys going straight back to the tour bus tonight?"

"Yeah, probably." Toya confirms.

"Ah, okay cool. We," He pauses, and Akito can only assume he's gesturing to you "Are gonna go check out a manga pop-up that's open here a few blocks down."

"Just the two of you?" An asks, very obviously barely holding in a laugh.

"Oh no, Eta-san is coming with us."

"Y'know, I wanted to go alone with you," Miura says, and Akito really thinks about waking up and hitting him "But Eta really wanted to come so I couldn't say no."

"I like how honest you are with your feelings, Miura-kun. Very refreshing."

"I don't have anything to hide," He insists, and Akito feels his hand clench "It was just nice we ended up tour together. We haven't seen each other since highschool so I thought I should make the most of our time together."

"I don't remember you being so sentimental. I actually remember you bullying me more than anything."

"Hey, quit it! I wasn't bullying you, i-it just came out wrong. I'm not good with my words and all."

"I know," You say completely good-naturedly. Akito knows objectively you're being friendly and thinking nothing of it. He knows that this is nothing to be bothered over and that you've been nothing but loyal. But god he’s annoyed."You would make fun of me then turn around and lend me your stuff. After I figured out you weren't a bad guy I wasn't scared of you."

"You guys have quite the history," Toya comments. You laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. We lost touch after I moved for my internship so it feels like a big coincidence! Always good to see old friends."

Before any more conversation happens, another staff member calls Miura for whatever reason - leaving you alone. Akito keeps his eyes closed, hearing Toya sigh for a second time.

"Should I tell Akito where you went?"

"Oh, would you? That'd be great, thanks. I figure he wouldn't want to come, or else I'd invite him and go together."

"Why do you think that?" Kohane asks.

"I'm not blaming him or anything! I just don't think he'd be very enthusiastic about it, that's all. I don't want to force him. Me and Miura-kun bond over this stuff, Eta-san too."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to get to spend time with you," Toya assures. He can't see you but he can hear the insecurity seeping through your voice and something in him starts to bend.

"I know, but you know. It's weird lately with tour and all. I think getting my mind off it would help."

"Oh, no." An sighs. Akito's chest tightens "You poor thing."

"Oh stop that, I'm fine! Getting some air will be nice though, you know? For both of us maybe. I did want to tell him myself though."

"It'll be fine, I'll make sure."

"Thanks, Aoyagi-kun.

"And just so you know, Akito-kun really loves you!"

"Of course. I have no reason to feel stuffy about it. Just makes me wonder if I should still be apart of the picture if that's part of his career, no? Dating would hinder that."

"Don't think like that." Toya interjects. You laugh but even Akito can hear how sad you sound. He had no idea you'd even been thinking that.

"I'll try just for you. Now all of you, stop moping over my silly dating problems okay? It was an amazing show today!! Cheer up and I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going now?"

"Gonna wait backstage for Miura-kun."

"Have fun," Kohane says last. You laugh brightly and assure you will before your footsteps trail off and get lost in the music. When you're gone, Toya punches him in the shoulder - hard enough to hurt a little.

"Ow, what the fuck?"

"You're such a jackass," An says seriously, shaking her head.

"I told you that it was gonna be a problem that you acted like that when we're a duo," Toya reprimands seriously. Akito can't do much to counter it "You should talk to her properly."

"About what," Akito grumbles "It is part of the gig. It doesn't mean anything to me."

"Oh my god, you're so clueless!" An says, exasperated, startling him "It bothers you this much that she's talking to Miura-kun but she should just deal with it when random girls act like to you all the time?"

"An-chan, don't get too mad."

"If I don't no one will! Did you see how sad she looked! She was even trying to be all understanding. That's not fair to her at all."

"...I also understand Akito-kuns view. But if that's the case, then that doesn't mean that she needs to tolerate it, right?"

"What are you saying, Kohane-san?"

She shakes her head.

"I just mean she doesn't have to continue if it's hard for her. If it's not something you can change, then she shouldn't endure it forever, right?"

“What the hell? Are you saying we should break-up?”

“Maybe. If it can’t be resolved, then isn’t unfair to expect her to always endure it?”

“That’s a mature way of looking at, Kohane-san.” Toya comments. Akito shoots him a dirty look. Toya shrugs, unbothered.

“Her and Miura-kun are a good match. They have a good atmosphere and Miura-kun doesn’t care about things like that,”

Akito sits up in frustration, nearly grabbing Toya by the collar.

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Think about whats best for her in the long run.”

Akito stands to his feet, glare hardened but Toya doesn’t budge at all. He doesn’t have to listen to this shit.

"This and that isn't the same. It's work to me, that's it."

"Everything that she and Miura-kun do is strictly platonic to her. She's not flirting with him, and it's not her fault if he has a crush on her. She even offered to stop seeing him if it made you uncomfortable."

Akito stays silent at that.

"But what about you? You just immediately dismissed it because it's part of her job and didn't even apologize to her later. You seriously think that's fair?"

He sighs at that, and shakes his head.

"I'm leaving."

Toya shakes his head once Akito is out of ear shot.

"So stubborn."

___

It’s close to midnight and you haven’t returned to the tour bus.

Akito knows its stupid to worry but knowing you were out with that goon all day is grating on his nerves. So he’s been waiting. Pacing around and smoking cigarettes, going in and out - he even texted you couple times to check in. You responded with pictures of your items, and selfies.

You had a long day, you drank a bit, you'd be back to the bus soon, you miss him. All in a row.

The longer the time goes on, the dumber Akito feels.

He leans on the bus as he waits on his phone, fingers growing cold. He hears you before he sees you, the sound of quiet giggling followed by a loud laugh. Akito's head snaps up almost immediately.

He hasn't seen you since the afternoon, but you changed. You're wearing your going-out outfit and it looks like you've put on some makeup too, smudged and worn. Eta is between you both as you carry her - Miura just has lovesick as when Akito saw him last. His stomach drops a little.

But the feeling is washed away when you brighten, eyes landing on him. You wave with a bag in your hand and Akito waves back. He waves to Miura too, if only to be polite.

"Akito-kun," Miura is the first talk as all three of you approach "What are you doing here?"

"There was some stuff about tomorrow set we needed to talk about," Akito says, gesturing to you. You blink owlishly.

"Just for you guys? Not FLASHBANG?"

Akito nods. You hum, then look over at Miura.

"Will you be okay taking Eta-san?"

Miura nods.

"Of course. I can't believe she drank so much in the first place, but I oughta to walk her back to our bus." Miura says as you off-load the weight on your shoulder "I'll see you again for tomorrow. Had a lot of fun today."

You giggle, clearly a little tipsy as you give Miura a thumbs-up. "Me too. See you tomorrow!"

Miura laughs a little before turning the corner, mumbling some light reprimanding to the drunk Eta before going on his way. Akito waits until both parties have disappeared - all the way out of ear shot before he looks at you with clear eyes.

If he's come to any conclusion it's this one - Akito doesn't want to break up with you.

He can't give up his career either, and maybe that's selfish. Maybe that's the whole problem. He can't pick. He thought about it, whether or not breaking up would be the right solution. He landed on maybe. Rationally he understands it. But it makes him angry just to think about it.

Akito stares at you as you hold your bag in comfortable silence and look at him. Wide, honest eyes - so dazzling he can hardly breathe. He reaches forward and cups your cheek in the palm of his hand, smoothing his thumb underneath your eye.

"You're back late," He murmurs, though it's not accusatory "What were you doing?"

"Well, a new store opened up at the mall in Tokushima, a bookstore that had a little pop-up for an anime Miura-kun likes. So we shopped around for a while, then stopped to see a movie, then went to an izakaya to drink a bit."

"Did you drink a lot?" He says, gentle as he holds you "You're gonna get a migraine."

"I had 2 mixed drinks. They had shochu in them but it wasn't very strong. Some water will sober me up." You pause inbetween your words, brows furrowing "What happened with the set list?"

"I was lying," Akito admits without thinking twice. You look surprised and he laughs "I just wanted us to be alone."

You tug on the lapel of his jacket weakly "I said I'd put some distance between us if it made you uncomfortable."

"It's not that," And it's true. Akito just really, really needed to be with you alone for a while "I was getting grilled earlier."

"From who?'

Akito rolls his eyes "Who else but Toya?"

You giggle.

"What was he grilling you about?"

"...You," Akito answers after some time "Us."

A beat of silence passes.

"Were you really thinking about breaking up?"

You look a little startled before looking away and something in him is crushed.

"Is that what he told you?"

"It's what it sounded like," Akito replies back. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it "Do you?"

"It's not that I want to,"

"Then what is it?"

'We're gonna go around in circles again," You say through a wet-laugh, like you're already gonna cry again. Akito fucked up bad. He brings your free hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

"We wont this time, swear."

"I know it's just work to you. It doesn't bother me all the time, either - like sometimes it doesn't bug me at all. But then, it's like, if I can't handle this much, maybe we should break up," You explain carefully and slowly, not trying to be too harsh at any point "I don't want to resent you or get in the way of your career, y'know. I know you're not gonna cheat on me. I'm a little insecure about it, but tough shit you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"It just...I dunno. It feels bad to watch you flirt with your fans, but if it's work for you than that makes it a me problem right?" You say thoughtfully, a sad but gentle look in your eyes "I don't know if I can handle that. So maybe, it's better to nip it in the bud now before things get serious."

"Aren't they serious already?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we're married. Or public. Like this, it's a normal break-up. It'll be awkward for a bit. But we get through it and things go back to how they were."

"It sounds like you don't take this seriously." Akito says, accusatory. You sigh and shake your head.

"That's not true at all. If you mattered to me in any less, it might be easier. Like if I loved you just a bit less, I could come up with a better solution," You hum. Akito believes it more than anything, that you love him. Even knowing doesn't make everything better "I love you and I know that your career is the most important thing to you. I would never want to make you choose."

"So what? You just cut yourself out of the equation so I don't have to?"

Where Akito expects you to disagree, you laugh and nod your head.

"Yeah. At least we'd be on good terms that way."

Akito stares at you in disbelief. He's partially angry, and partially devastated. He knows what you're saying, and it makes sense rationally. Logically at least. It's a problem with no good outcomes, like if there's already a stalemate - whose to say things will get better. It's in character for you to think like that. Where Akito is hard-headed and passionate, you're calm and analytical. To overthink to such an extent, to think so seriously about your futures. Both Akito's future and yours.

But it's not what he wants. His career is important, of course it is. What he's built is important. But does that mean he has to give up on you?

When Akito reflects on it, he doesn't think your original ask was that hard to fulfill. It hurts the worst to know that. Had he heard you out properly the first time, thought about it a little more - it'd be clear that it's nothing that serious.

Nothing worth making you worry over. Nothing worth making you question your entire relationship over.

But he didn't do that the first time, and now he's stuck listening to you think of all the ways things could go worse from here. It's his fault, really, for not thinking about it. He's always been this way about his career.

"You've been thinking about this a lot." He says first, almost paralyzed. You laugh humorlessly.

"I was going to wait until tour was over to talk about it."

"...Cause you were worried about how I'd perform."

"You're an important part of my salary," You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"...Man this feels like shit,"

"Sorry."

"No, not it's not that. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either."

"But it is," He says, exasperated with himself "If I would've just fucking... heard you out a few months ago. You wouldn't have been thinking about all this. If I had just done something then,"

"I don't see it like that, Akito."

"I know but it doesn't matter, cause it's my fucking fault anyway." He looks at you seriously. Shit, he almost wants to cry. "I don't want to break-up with you. I'm really sorry."

"A-akito?"

"I'll stop flirting with the girls who come to meet us. And I'll announce our relationship after I talk with the managers a bit,"

"A-akito, you really don't have to—"

"My career, music, everything we've built so far is important to me," Akito looks at you seriously, hoping it all comes out right. That everything comes through the way he intends "But shit, so are you. You're not...less important to me than any of that."

You stay silent, like you're in disbelief.

"Really?"

"Fuck—god, yes of course. I'm sorry. I really screwed up this time. I don't want to break up. I want to be with you, for a long time. Longer than this."

"I'm gonna cry." You say with a warbly laugh.

"Don't cry," Akito mumbles, pulling you into his arms. He hears you sniffle as he tucks your face against his chest, his arms around you tightly as he comforts you "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I love you,"

He presses a kiss to your head, looking at your tear-stained face with a sigh. He leans forward, knocking your foreheads together before littering kisses along your cheeks and face until you laugh again. He finds himself smiling too, before another somber wave of emotion washes over him.

"I'm sorry for being a shithead," He says with a sigh "An called me a jackass and I can't believe I have to agree with her."

You laugh "I don't think you're a jackass."

"You totally should though," Akito says back "I was pissed off the whole day."

"Really? Why?"

"Why do you think?

You look genuinely confused for a minute before something seems to click.

"Was it because of Miura-kun?"

"Yeah. Fucking walking around so lovey-dovey, making googly eyes at you."

You smile impishly "He confessed to me earlier today."

Akito stiffens immediately.

"What?!"

"Yeah. We were in an alley and waiting for Eta-san and he just... told me outright."

"...And then what?"

You roll your eyes "Of course I accepted and now we live together, happy ever after." Your sarcasm bleeds through your words as you flick Akito's forehead "Obviously I rejected him gently and said I was seeing someone."

"And then?"

"And then he asked who, and I said and then he was silent for a while before tearing up a little." You reply thoughtful, fond smile on your face "He said he wishes he did it in highschool and I comforted him for a bit. Guy cheered up really fast,"

"Seriously?"

"Congrats on being right," You lean into Akito, wrapping your arms around his waist "He bounced back after a drink or two and it hasn't been awkward at all. He can't hide his feelings for shit so I'm sure he's fine."

"Seriously? It's over just like that?"

"He's a positive guy and he doesn't dwell on things. Kind of dopey you know? Pure-hearted to a fault, the only thing he's really smart at is music and sports."

"So he's over it? There's no way."

"I wouldn't say he's over it," You say thoughtfully "More that he just accepts things as they are. I'm not into him so that's that. But we're still friends, and that won't change any time soon. I hope that's okay."

Akito widens his eyes.

"I mean, yeah it's fine - I guess I feel better about this way but. I mean, shit."

"I thought you'd be celebrating a little more."

Akito scoffs.

"He's still gonna make those stupid heart eyes at you, just not in front of me."

"He does not do anything of the sort!"

"Oh yes he definitely does. Ask Toya if you don't trust me."

"Maybe I will." You reply, sticking your tongue out.

"Ask him when we get to our bus."

"...Is that okay? Did you ask your manager?"

He laughs again, holding you close a second time. He tilts your chin up towards him, placing a kiss on your lips.

"Don't care," He says brazenly "I need you with me tonight."

"That sounds dirty, Akito."

"Oh, it is baby," He teases, turning his voice low "Try not to be too noisy. Kohane-sans a light sleeper."

#akito shinonome x reader #akito x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsekai x reader #writing tag

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

Note

So! With Valentine's coming up, I gotta ask, would Mafiafell Sans do anything,,, a little special for his partner? 👀👀💕

Mf Sans is all about big, romantic gestures, and part of being his partner will probably be learning to reel in his crazy urges to spoil you. His love language is gift giving, and since he has the means to shower his darling in nice things, he's constantly battling the urge to buy you everything you even vaguely look interested in.

Here's some Valentine's things he might do!

Holidays. He likes to book surprise lavish holidays for the two of you, and on Valentine's (or your birthday) he REALLY pulls out the stops. Think Paris, the Maldives, Bali... if you've been talking about wanting to visit somewhere particular, he'll save that for Valentine's. If you're still at work despite being with him, your boss will be very used to Sans letting them know a few days prior to leaving that you won't be available- if they have problems with that they're welcome to take them up with him.

Custom jewellery made for you. He's got great taste and it'll be exactly what you like... he'll have something matching, of course.

Flowers are a big thing, too. Hope you don't have any allergies, he's going to load you with so many roses you won't know where to put them all.

Fancy meals out... he'll take you to one of those crazy private booth 10 course dinners.

Clothes- he likes being a well dressed couple. But he also likes whatever makes your eyes light up. If you want fancy and designer he'll get you fancy and designer, if you want simple and handmade he'll get you simple and handmade. Anything for his sweetheart.

Anything for his better half.

...

Deep down, Mf Sans just wants to spend time with you. He wants you to like him. And... he really just likes being alone together, for Valentine's. His intense desire to treat you can sometimes overwhelm him, clouding his thoughts about what he wants. Ending the day cuddled up alone together will satiate his Soul.

... He's got a thing for physical photographs of the two of you. It's important to him that he's able to hold the memories in his hands.

(Remember to tell him you love him with or without the gifts. That'll make it all worth it.)

#llamagines #hes a big teddy who wants to be wanted #hold his hand every now and then #thats all he needs

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bubba-draws · 6 months

Text

I will post nicer ultrakill art when i know how to draw armors and robots

my take on how they look underneath the helmet/cloth, tbh i prefer more the fact they dont have a "canon" appearance (ferryman maybe if u think theyre just a skull??? and we've seen skulls???) but i wanted to draw this for uhhh,,,, personal reasons :)

Picture notes under the cut! (in case is too hard to read)

Gabriel

Starry eyes when Ferryman

Anime looking mf

Curls? they float

Love the gap moe of scary looking guy but his face is soft

Ferryman

Weird mix of bone & skin (didn't destroy all of it)

Eyes covered bc of the thing no one in hell got eyes

I like the white dots but it reminds me of... him (lower opacity sans undertale pic)

#the reasons is PO- *gets removed from the premises*#bubba doods #ultrakill #ferrygabe #gabriel ultrakill #ferryman ultrakill #dont worry i will keep posting bugs i just need to scratch the itch of these two #theyre sitting next to grollow in my brain #speaking of i will draw grollow but.... gotta finish commissions...#not 100% satisfied with Gabe's design but idk what to do with it

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astrhoeluvr · 1 year

Text

Astrhoe observations Pt.1 🫂🥰🫶🏻

(This is my first astro post on here and surely more to come🧚🏻‍♀️✨)

Back to 👉🏻 my materialist 👁️🫦👁️.

(picture credits : Pinterest)

a lil disclaimer : these are just my personal observations, so don’t take any of them to heart🥳.Some could be applicable to you and some would differ, so take all of them with a grain of salt OKIE! enough of me blabbing let’s get on with it🫶🏻🥰

🍀🌬️: Virgo/Gemini placements 🤝🏻 speaking with their hands.

🌕: moon trine mercury often indicates a good communicative relationship with your mom. I have this placement and I literally spill all the beans to my momma🥲🙏🏻. Ofc it depends on other aspects to your moon/mercury, if negatively aspected results may differ.

😏🔥: if you’re a Scorpio or Capricorn Mars, um hit me up maybe??😳👀 Y’ALL ARE HOT HOT HOT.🥵

🍀: VIRGO RISINGS ARE LITERALLY ETHEREAL, LIKE????? Y’ALL CARRY YOURSELF SO DAMN WELL. PRETTY ASF MFS🫶🏻🥰.

🌊: pisces placements are literally the 🥺 emoji, LIKE STOP WITH THE DAMN PUPPY EYES, I WILL LITERALLY MELT.😩

🔥 : aries moons 🤝🏻 emotions changing as fast as lightning 😭😭😭 (no cause I have this placement and I’d be bawling my eyes out and the next minute I’m laughing my ass off at something 🥲🤺).

👀😳: venus conjunct mars are so sexy. The power y’all carry 🛐🛐🛐 (my ring finger is empty for y’all 💍😏🤝🏻🥰).

🫂: I personally want to give scorpio/capricorn moons, moon-saturn harsh aspects THE BIGGEST HUG. Y’all DESERVE THE ENTIRE WORLD AND MORE.🫶🏻 Don’t be so hard on yourself!! YOU GOT THIS💪🏻🥰

🍀🌬️: air/earth placements 🤝🏻 being so damn witty.👀🥳

Okay loves that’s all for today 🫶🏻🥰 it’s pretty short but wtv🥲

(Please do not copy or plagiarise any of my work <3)

- san✨🍵🪴📖🧘🏻‍♀️

#astrology #virgo venus #Mars #astrology observations #scorpio #taurus #moon #saturn #zodiac #birth #birth chart #my notes #astronomy #energy

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katasstrophy · 1 year

Note

What are your favorite pet names for your fave blorbos??? Mine are beebee for Bachira and YoiCHU! *insert cheek kiss* for Isagi~

d’aaawwww nonnie you got me giggling over this how cute<33 i may have gone overboard like always lol but here are some of my takes !! (these low key just. turned into headcanons oop i hope that’s okay!)

SHIDOU RYUSEI — HELLCAT

this is my personal favorite because it just fits him so fucking well and i know it in my soul of souls that he’d adore it. like yes he is your feral hellcat<3 your demon spawn<3 but you’re crazy enough to love that about him, to turn it into an endearing pet name, even. bastard would probably purr and meow just to lay it on real thick pls i can never be normal about this man.

ITOSHI RIN — RINNIE

calling the ever stoic, foul-mouthed younger itoshi smth as sickeningly sweet as rinnie is the best thing since sliced bread actually idc if i’m basic! it’s true! ofc he’d absolutely abhor it at first, snapping at you to “fucking stop calling him that” which just spurs you on more tbh lol he’s furious with you. he thinks he abhors the nickname, then one day you drop the cutsy act to return to his given name and he’s just left standing there like🧍baffled and pissed out of his mind bc where’s his mf rinnie huh?? i want to eat him so bad.

MIKAGE REO — HANDSOME

i feel like reo – party due to his lavish upbringing but mostly because he is just the ultimate lover boy – would definitely gravitate towards more ‘classier’ terms of endearment. call him handsome, or go all in by calling to him as my love and his chest is instantly puffing up like some bird about to perform the sickest mating dance ever lol he’d be so smug about it. definitely, 100% the type of guy that still gets weak in the knees when you call him husband – doesn’t matter if you’ve been married three months or 5 years he eats that shit up!

SANZU HARUCHIYO — CANDYMAN

okay so because i’m a little shit i can’t ignore the juxtaposition of the big bad criminal being committed to the pink aesthetic (don’t get me wrong i’m obsessed with it), so in my head i could get away with calling sanzu annoying crap like barbie doll or cupcake – or probably his most tolerated one out of the bunch, candyman (because of the, ya know, murderous implications lmfao). all in a very sarcastic vain ofc! i feel like calling him by his given name, or just simply haru, would def be all the more special then <3 (… BUT bc he’s sick in the head he’d probably love it even more if you romanticized his psychotic tendencies – call him stuff like my lovely little killer and he’s a goner he is clinically insane like.)

HANEMIYA KAZUTORA — MY (EVERYTHING)

let me just clarify that this man is not picky! whatsoever! he’s so starved for love he’d literally eat any term of endearment straight out of your mouth if he could. everything is one the table: baby, honey, sweetheart, darling, love – you name it, tora likes it, he wants you to keep calling him sweet names until he’s drowned in it. but what gets him really over the moon is if you just insert a small little ‘my’ in front of it. yeah, he loves being called baby, but my baby? he’s on his knees for you goodbye he loves the subtle ownership of it. (not to get n/sfw but uh… call him your sweet boy when you’re overstimming him and his pupils might just turn heart-shaped he’s ruined.)

KAKUCHO — YOUR LAST NAME

i only recently found out that “hitto” is actually a fanon made last name for kaku darling and i’d like to report that i’m still devastated over it so :( when you two get married – because he will marry you, if he’s in love like that’s it he’s locking you down for life – you ask him if he’d like to take your last name and yeah he cries a little he’s so touched pls :( so when people refer to him as L/n-san or mr. L/n he’s still not over it he has to remind himself that they are, in fact, talking to him. the effect triples when it’s you that calls him as such he’s so proud to wear your name brb gonna bawl my eyes out.

#—ping! new message from (anon)#beebee for bachira is adorable :3 i tag him as bachibabe when i reblog stuff of him and ngl kinda proud of that one still #and yoichu is the perfect excuse to steal a kiss from him!!#—tr.thoughts!#—bllk.thoughts!#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons

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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 2 years

Note

OK but like. How would skz and atz react if they heard you moaning their name in your sleep??

Alternatively, how would they react to you moaning another member's name in your sleep

We know Hongjoong is a jealous boy

✨

okay i have been sitting on this one for a WHILE this is gonna be the longest response i’ve ever given to an ask-

calling his name in your sleep:

stray kids

chan- he’d be amused honestly. he’d wonder what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. he’d wait patiently for you to wake up and then he’d tease you about it, urging you to tell him what got you so worked up.

minho- he wouldn’t do anything immediately. he’d move closer and wait to see if it happened again. then he’d hold it over you for ages, telling you to dream of him every night.

changbin- he’d tease you about it when you woke up but wouldn’t admit he had to go relieve himself in the bathroom.

hyunjin- he would immediately move between your legs and wake you up to the best head of your life.

jisung- he’d get a little flustered hearing you moan for him during your nap and try not to bring it up but accidentally mention it over dinner, leading to you riding him like your life depended on it.

felix- he’d tease you until you woke up and fucked him. he’d be cute about it though. soft neck kisses, lips ghosting over your earlobes, fingertips trailing along your thighs and tummy.

seungmin- he’d make fun of you for a few minutes before ultimately offering to fix the issue he caused in your dream, leading to a mind-blowing orgasm for you and bragging rights for him it’s not his fault you were so high strung it only took him three minutes to get you off.

jeongin- oh he’d bully you. he’d poke fun at you even as he fucking you dumb into the sheets, talking about how needy you must be for you to be dreaming about him.

ateez

hongjoong- he’d be smug and get possessive, fucking you nice and slow. “What a good girl, recognizing who owns you even in your sleep.”

seonghwa- look he would be so flustered at first but the second you opened your eyes, his demon would come out.

yunho- he’d do a double take but you’d wake up to his lips on your neck and jaw.

yeosang- he’s another smug bastard (affectionate). he would try and tease you but would shut his damn mouth the moment you hinted at your dream being about him and that fucking sexy back dance- then he’d fuck you dumb for embarrassing him lmao

san- like hyunjin, he would jump into action. he could be half asleep but the instant you whimper his name, he’s wide awake and all his blood is rushing south.

mingi- he would be so fucking embarrassed and would end up not looking at you for a little while cause he’d start to get hard otherwise. of course, you’d make him look at you and he’d give in and let you suck the life out of him-

wooyoung- the way i hate this man (affectionately. its cause he’s a sagittarius and those mfs make me wanna fight and then baby them because i beat their asses) ugh he would be so annoying about it and next thing you know, you’re bent over the side of the bed, becoming a twinkie.

jongho- he would pretend to be scandalized, not knowing you’d caught him doing the same thing only days before.

calling someone else’s name in your sleep: ps sorry this part is kinda dry, it’s either they fuck you dumb or they actually get upset-

stray kids

chan- he’d wake you up instantly and throw the sheets back once you were coherent (kind of) only to wreck your shit so hard you lose all that coherency.

minho- he’d get kind of snippy with you and once you finally got him to tell you what was wrong, he’d be kind of embarrassed that he jumped to conclusions. your dream was far from sexual, felix wouldn’t stop with the fucking tiktok dances-

changbin- tbh i feel like he’s the jealous type. “oh, you wanna fuck ji? how ‘bout i go get him and make him watch me fuck you ‘til you cry then?”

hyunjin- he would probably cry honestly. i would be so distressed if this happened :(

jisung- he would also cry but he’d cling to you while doing so instead of running off to hide like hyunjin. then you’d assure him it was nothing and make him feel like the most special boy in the world-

felix- he’d be a little hurt but he’d let it go pretty quickly. he’s just so in love he can’t imagine letting anything get him too upset with you.

seungmin- he’d be annoyed and passive-aggressive while he fucked you to remind you whose name you ought to be moaning.

jeongin- he’d be pissed and would have you face down, ass up minutes after you woke up.

ateez

hongjoong- another possessive one (obviously) he would actually make the third party watch. “doesn’t her back arch so pretty? sucks for you that you’ll never be the one to make her fall apart like this.”

seonghwa- he would act like nothing happened but you’d know something was off and he’d end up taking it out on you in bed later.

yunho- we’ve all seen the clip of him looking pissed, we’ve all gone feral over it. that’s all i can envision right now. i’m suffering. i would pay for him to get mad at me.

yeosang- i feel like he’d edge you until you apologized

san- he would straight up ask for a threesome lmao

mingi- he would be so sad :( i would instantly suck the soul out of him as an apology-

wooyoung- he’d demand to know all the details just so he could do it better and make you forget all about that dream.

jongho- while i wish he would split me open like one of his apples, he would probably just be mad and not wanna talk about it, only addressing it to accept the apology you’ve offered at least 43 times.

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kihyuns-military-wife · 9 months

Text

The Church ~Pastors son!Mingi x Bad boy!Yunho

I wrote this so any illegal plagiarising is a no no

~TW's, Swearing, Sexual content, Pet names (Princess, Pretty Boy, Slut, Fuck toy), Degrading, Praising, Choking, YUNHO WITH PIERCINGS AND A TATTOO, Cum swallowing, Mentions of getting caught, Innocent Mingi, Experienced Yunho, Unprotected sex (WRAP THE WEENIE HUT JR), Word count:778~

Living in a small, close community meant you knew everyone and everything, or so Mingi had thought. Growing up as the pastor's son at the town's church meant you got to see everyone every Sunday and Wednesday. However, when the town troublemaker, Jeong Yunho, landed himself into doing community service for the church. Which left a dusted pink on the youth pastors cheeks when he looked at the piercings that left shivers down his large torso. "Mingi?, Hello earth to Mingi? Are you there, dude?" His best friend San elbowed him. Refocusing back to what his father was preaching about, he realized it was his turn to take the youth group to their prayer room.

"Alright, youth group. Please follow youth pastor Song and Mr. Jeong for your lesson." Pastor Song announced to the auditorium. Walking down the bright hallway, the two teens watched the youth group run to play while Yunho and Mingi went to get the worksheets and snacks. Pushing up his glasses, Mingi looks up at the tattoo on Yunho's neck. "You keep staring at my neck, you're gonna leave a hole in it, Princess." Looking bewildered at the lightly taller male, a dark blush painting his cheeks. "I wasn't staring, I was just about to ask you about it, and don't call me princess, I'm not a girl."

Stopping in the front of the confessing booth, puffing up his chest to seem unbothered by the attractive troublemaker. Ultimately failing (damn it Mingi). Mingi opened the confession booth to hide the embarrassment on his face from the boy he had gained a crush on, even if only being here for 3 months. Closing the door of the booth, it's pulled back by the older boy. Feeling hands on his chest, Mingi is pushed against the back wall. "Listen here, pretty boy, I may do stupid shit, but I'm far from being dumb. So stop eye fucking me like the slutty little fuck toy you are." Growing hard in his khakis, Mingi looks up at Yunho with doe like eyes, waiting for his Hyung to continue.

Smirking down to the shorter boy, Yunho pauses, asking for consent to continue (very cash money Yunho). After receiving consent to continue, Yunho unbuckled his and Mingi's pants "Turn around for me princess" stimulating his cock watching Mingi's soft ass sway back and forth. "Wait-" Turning his head, Mingi looked at Yunho worried. "Will, will it hurt?" On the verge of tears, worried of what the lord would think (Mf doesn't give two shits, the bitch gave his son 2 dads). Patting the boy's head, reassuring him that it wouldn't hurt. Easing into his warm hole after stretching him out seconds before, "A-ahh Yunho, please need- mmmh, need more." Mingi's moans escalating in volume caused one of Yunho's large hands to wrap around Mingi's throat, squeezing enough to leave him light-headed but not enough to hurt.

Chocolate eyes rolling back in pleasure, Mingi could hear Yunho's low groans of degration and praise. Yunho looked down at where Mingi and him meet, if getting harder was possible, Yunho was rock hard. Thrusting his hips harder and faster into the boy's ass, Both boys were reaching their highs fast. Licking a strip from his shoulder to his jaw, Mingi could feel the cooling feel of Yunho's tongue ring pressing against his burning skin. Skin on skin could be heard next to the muffled moans and groans of the two. "You close, pretty boy? gonna cum for me? Go ahead, princess, I'm not one to stop you." That was the final push that Mingi needed to release over Yunho's forearm.

Moments later, after Mingi is coming down from his high, he is pulled slowly from Yunho's cock, and pushed to his knees. "O-open your moth princess, I'm cu-cuming ahh fuck take my cum slut swallow it," Filling his mouth Mingi swallowed Yunho's load sticking out his tongue to show that he's a good boy (Mingi is a good boy). Pulling up their pants Mingi looks at Yunho, looking back at the younger they share a kiss. Releasing Mingi from his hold, tilting his head up and locking eyes. "What does this make us, Hyung?" even after just getting his brains fucked out, Mingi still looked so sweet. Smiling down at him, Yunho finally wanted to ask what's been on his mind since he first came here. "Song Mingi, will you be my boyfriend?".

#ateez smut #mingi smut #yunho smut #mxm

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yfmconfessions2 · 2 months

Note

THE PUFF ANON IS BSCK BITCHES!!!! and i am back with some SHIT so let me get straight into it

Puff probably loves stargazing and whenever he isnt at a club during a random night he sits outside of the bus and stares at the sky, admiring the beauty of them. He tries to do it in a secret so he doesnt seem like a "softie" but sometimes Benatar or DeeJay join him.

I feel like Puff cant swim for his life. Like when the band goes to the beach he just walks around and tries to pull some chicks or stays in the shadow.

He uses a bar of soap for cleaning his body AND his hair. And suprisingly it doesnt look bad.

Puff worked at McDonalds FOR ONE DAY, he got fired bc he started arguing with a random Karen and spit into her burger while looking her dead in the eyes.

His glasses went through hell. Like that mf fell down or sat down in them so many times its a miracle the glasses arent dust at this point.

Tara forced Puff to have a tea party with her or she would tell Tig about how the whole band insulted her. He had to dress up into a pink dress and wear make up.

Puff tried painting a few times in high school but they all came out shitty and his patience just ran out in an instant so he never tried again, but if he tried at least a bit he could make a somewhat of a decent painting.

He wanted an ant farm when he was a kid. Prove me wrong.

He once got so high he thought he was Mario and started jumping into trash cans for power ups.

Puff tried cooking noodles once and burnt the water, then proceeded to eat raw noodles with the seasoning.

ANDD THATS ALL I HAVE!! HOPE U ENJOYED READING THEM!

OMG PUFF ANON YAYYYY EVERYONE REJOICE

1, YES THEYRE ALL SPACE NERDS HENCE THE BAND'S NAME

2, PUFF CANT SWIM, CANT DANCE, AND DOESN'T KNOW KARATE. FACE IT, HES NEVER GONNA MAKE IT 🙄🙄🙄

3, HE USES DISH SOAP SOMETIMES TOO

4, LMFAO THE MCDONALDS ONE AHHEHSHZ

5, HES LITERALLY DADDY PIG

7, BENATAR TRIED TO TEACH HIM BUT HE JUST RAGE QUIT

8, I COULD DEF SEE HIM AS AN INSECT ENTHUSIAST

9, AXEL WAS HIGH TOO AND THEY WERE TRYNA HAVE A MARIO X SONIC CROSSOVER EPISODE OR SUM SHIT

10, SANS, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU BURN THE WATER????????

#yfm #your favorite martian #confession

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delusional-mishaps · 2 years

Note

I’m going a hiatus but I wanted to ask for something before I doooooo!!! May I ask for some Epic Sans x reader headcanons?

Where the reader and Epic are friends but they unknowingly crush on each other and when Epic finally tries flirting, he learns the reader gets extremely flustered very easily. (Ah yes kabedons….instant melting-)

Thank you in advance! Also it’s been awhile, how have you been?

I NEVER SAW THIS WHAN YOU SENT IT IN IMSO SORRY 😭😭😨

genuinely still dont know much abt epic but hes kinda silly so lets see how this goes!! apologies if he's ooc im too lazy to look up anything about him

also ive been good thank you for asking ^^ livin life in beast mode since i got a cross bodypillow,,

motherfucker is WHIPPED goddamn 👴 always has some degree of a blush on his face when you're around,,,, or when he's talking about you,,, or thinking about you,,,,

you think his lil flushed cheeks are soo cute

because they ARE?? if only u knew they were flushed cuz of you <33

he likes to rant to anyone who'll listen abt how adorable you are. how in love with you he is. how he just wants to kiss your cute little face all over, leave you flushed and dizzy—

cross is FED UP with listening to his simping 😒😡

he's always so giddy around you. boundless energy, like you're some drug that gets his metaphorical heart pumping. really, you ARE like a drug to him. he's ADDICTED to you, the way you make him feel,,

ofc he'd never tell you that... that's too embarrassing!

until he decides to somehow make a stupid pick-up line.

"hey bruh, are you a drug? cuz i feel like im dying when im without you for an extended period of time."

WHY are you blushing at that horrible, stupid line?? he could have made it SO MUCH better, but this is SO him—silly and slightly nonsensical—and while it was kind of dumb, he's using a pick up line on you oh my god

nerd ass weeb anime mf will call you his waifu or husbando or whatever. it always makes you blush when he introduces you as "my awesome (waifu/husbando) whom i love" but you always just. brush it off as a joke. cuz i mean he can't ACTUALLY like you right? haha he's just overly friendly pshh ofc ourse he diesnt actually like you that's crazy—

sorry writing that actually made me cringe i cant believe he would say that 😭 life is so hard when that's my husband's best friend #savemefromepic

for the longest time he doesn't even realise that he's flustering you, but OH BOY, when he DOES become aware,,,, lord help your poor poor SOUL, you won't have a moment of rest

i mean, c'mon, he thinks you look so cute when you're all flustered because of him,,,, so adorable how your eyes widen fractionally, the way your lips press together, how you try to hide your heated face from anyone's view,,, so cute <33

dude double's down in his flirting. no matter how wild what he says is, you always get that cute look on your face that makes him want to kiss you so fucking bad bro

then, one day, after the two of you watched some stupid cliché romance anime where the female protagonist was pinned to the wall by her love interest...

it's like a lightbulb went off in his empty head. that's peak anime romance, so why doesn't he do that to you? he bets you'd get so embarrassed and cute if he did that~

except it kind of backfires. he slams his hands against the wall, effectively caging you between them, but he's a little shorter than you and the force he used rocked him right into your body and it's more like he just body-checked you than anything. it took all of his strength to make sure he didn't accidentally nail you in the nose with his big fat head. still, the close proximity got you all flushed.

he really can't help himself when he leans up and finally, finally kisses you. call it the heat of the moment, but it was the perfect opportunity. pressed up against the wall, so close to each other,,, when you just look so cute, your soft body against his bones feeling just right, like two perfect puzzle pieces coming together...

he could feel when your breath hitched, the way you tensed for but a moment before fervently kissing him back. your face is positively burning, but it makes the kiss all the better, feeling divine against his cooled cheeks, flushed with his own blush.

he pulls back and then...!! leaves. he disappears, falling into his bed and kicking his feet. he's totally squealing, fanboying harder than he ever has before.

you're allowed to kick his ass for just leaving you like that

but he'll text you later that night asking if you wanna be his "official (waifu/husbando)" because he's cringe and can't just ask if you wanna date the normal way.. </3

i keep cringing at him. have fun with your weeb man. i'm judging you for your tastes (/j)

#pokegalla #epic sans #epic x reader #jester writes #sans x reader #undertale x reader #guys im so tired of tagging things #worst part of being a content creator on tumblr tr #fr*#ok i actually had fun with this one though #feel like he may be hella ooc but likr i said #im lazy 😭#...ignore the lact i had like five other requests before this one #I FEEL BAD CUZ YOU WERE GOING IN HAIRUS 😭

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 3 months

Text

Masterpost 27

General asks

S/O has a wheelchair-friendly house (HF Papyrus)

S/O likes to bake (DuT Sans)

What surprises skeleton (FSG Sans)

Someone breaks the house and tries to kill S/O, but S/O kills them first (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Mistletoe shenanigans (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus, MT Sans, MF Papyrus)

Skeleton's kid runs to the wrong skeleton and needs glasses (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus, HS Sans, HF Papyrus, FT Sans, MT Papyrus, MF Papyrus, D!Papyrus, DuT Sans)

S/O's best friend doesn't like monsters (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Twin switch (UT Characters + D!Papyrus)

Skeleton reads his S/O's diary after seeing his name on it (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus, Ink, Error)

Skeleton's crush kisses them (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Skeleton's relationship with dance (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

There's an explosion in the woods while skeleton is camping (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Watching TV or a movie with a friend (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Skeleton is eating his first Galette des Rois (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Skeleton's teenager has a girl/boyfriend (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

S/O's grandma starts to flirt with them during a family dinner (UT Characters)

S/O is scarily good with animals (UT Sans, UT Papyrus, US Papyrus, UF Papyrus, HT Sans, HT Papyrus, SF Papyrus, FSG Papyrus, DF Sans, FT Sans, FT Papyrus, MF Sans, Killer, DuT Sans)

Their kid got rejected for a main role in a play (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Skeleton doesn't recognize his brother anymore after anesthesia (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Crush S/O's friend is flirting with S/O in front of skeleton (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Skeleton's kid throws a tiny ball in their eye socket (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

S/O's ex tries to dissuade them from hanging out with skeleton during their date (UT, US, UF Sans & Papyrus)

Some old asks with Twin Delta (D!Papyrus)

Skeleton and S/O joined Lethal Company (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

S/O takes them to a buffet (HT, HS, HF Sans & Papyrus)

Human doctors want to check skeleton at their arrival on the Surface (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

First moment of true vulnerability (UF, HT, HS, HF, SF, FSG, MT, MS Sans & Papyrus, Error, Killer, DuT Sans, D!Papyrus)

Skeletons are playing Dungeons & Dragons (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

S/O puts a ferret in Skeleton's eye socket (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

A random guy tries to talk to them (MT, MF Sans & Papyrus)

Crush stealing and other shenanigans (Ink, Error)

Coffee and scary people (UT Mettaton, UT Muffet, FSG Papyrus)

Skeleton's teenager sneaks out by the window to go to a party (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Skeletons have to join the army in Empress Undyne's neutral ending (UT, US, UF, HT, SF, FSG Sans & Papyrus)

Other things

Skeleton survival games - New Year Edition

Charlie's death in What is best for humankind

Fanarts that will make you cry

Dune is best doggo

Myfanwi talks

Why are some characters underlined in the character list?

Thor & Mjöllnir on Santa Claus laps

Merry Christmas!

Yandere asks

2000 posts on the blog!

My favorite types of asks

Happy New Year!

#masterpost #myfanwi talks #undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold

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shinestarhwaa · 11 months

Text

Unholy thoughts here:

Idk if I am the only one who noticed, but I think San mightve gotten mad bitches lately and hear me out okay

- ofc San works out a lot so he is muscly so that could be the reason he's got a fine ass now (cuz he was quite flat before)

But when a man has sex it can be quite a workout, for the butt too👀

- his rizz was outta this world during the fansigns so far this year

HAVE YOU SEEN HIM TALKING TO ATINYS WITH THOSE MF SEXY EYES???? he knows what he is doing.

AM I RIGHT OR WHAT

#kpop #ateez #san #choi san

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yunhohours · 2 years

Note

kind of a fluffy ask, but ateez or txt and reader in a flirty x awkward relationship. who's what? lowkey think hongjoong would be the awkward one. also tell me why yeonjun is so cute when he's flustered??

okay, i love this idea so why not both? 🤪

Awkward x Flirty Relationship - ATEEZ & TXT

ateez

hongjoong: the reason you think he's the awkward one is because he is. i mean... we've all seen him on jessi's showterview. that shit was EMBARRASSING 😭 he's cute though so you'd let it slide. he hates how easily flustered he is by you, but he also finds your charm insanely sexy. as usual with hongjoong, it's bittersweet. tries to pretend like he's cool and not at all affected by you but baby who are you fooling? no one.

seonghwa: god, i can really see seonghwa being either/both. like on the days he's feeling himself, you've never seen smoothness like that. probably has your head empty all day long because he keeps you on your toes with whispered words and subtle touches that linger on your skin. but on days where he's just kinda... existing he'll be more awkward. like lil awkward smiles and not quite knowing how to handle you being so flirty with him even though he likes it a lot. i think this is a relationship where you each play both parts depending on the day. (and that's fun love that for you)

yunho: BOTH. we've seen how yunho is. he's always bold, but in a shy way? he's so cute sjfsfsfa. wouldn't hesitate to say something that would catch you off guard in the best possible way, but if you matched his energy he just might shy smile into oblivion. i think overall he would be the flirty one, though. he wouldn't let getting flustered stop him from making you swoon. he likes that feeling way too much. if you're flirty with him, he'll push past that shyness to one-up you because you deserve it. if you're awkward, he'll badger you with charm until you no longer feel awkward with him.

yeosang: listen. the duality in this group is really fucking up this list lmao. i can almost say both for all of them. but fr, yeosang is both okay. he starts out as the awkward one because he doesn't want to cross any boundaries with you. he blushes like crazy when you flirt with him and avoids eye contact because he knows his cheeks are bright red. but as he gets more comfortable with you, the roles switch. you know that deadpan humor he's best known for? he's like that when he says some shit that makes you squirm in your seat. would drop a one-liner that leaves your mouth dry and just smile politely and walk away like he didn't do anything. he's a menace.

san: zero people are surprised that he's the flirty one. pretty sure san flirts with anyone and anything that crosses his path. it's just his mode of communication at this point. you're the awkward one because seconds after meeting this handsome mf he's winking at you and holding eye contact with you like you know each other like that when you definitely do not. he relishes in any and every reaction he gets out of you so any blush or nervous shifting of your body will be both noted and adored by him.

mingi: the awkward one. he loooooves the attention you give him, maybe a little too much. he gets so wrapped up in your affection that his brain forgets how to work properly so he's got nothing for you but a big smile that takes up half his face and giggles. he can hype himself up to charm you on occasion too, but it doesn't come as effortlessly as it does for you. unless we're talking about on stage we all know he exudes charm up there if you can call it that

wooyoung: the flirty one. awkward is not in his vocabulary. even if you tried to fluster him, he would outdo you. probably does a lot of nonverbal flirting with you. gazes at you in a way that makes you feel things, holds his lips in the perfect pout that keeps your eyes glued to them. smirks at you when he knows everything is going to plan, as expected. pain in the ass about it but you love it. definitely goes out of his way to fluster you in front of other people so you gotta stay strong 😭

jongho: both, but when he's flirting, it hits different. like with the other guys, it's pretty clear what they're trying to do. but with jongho... he doesn't even think of it as flirting. he's just stating facts. and that makes it worse somehow? like you're over here weak kneed and he's like ?? i just said the truth what about it 😌 definitely gets smiley and quiet when you flirt with him too though, especially if you really go for it. he won't be prepared for something that heavy. give him a minute though and he'll have something for you.

txt

soobin: there is no universe in which soobin is anything but the awkward one. just the hint of a flirty tone will have him on his toes. if you hit him with a direct line, he's looking at you like a deer in headlights, eyes bigger than you've ever seen them. probably doesn't say a word for a minute because he's trying to process what's happening and how to respond at the same time. lowkey loves when you fluster him like that. that feeling is a real high for him and you can tell. he doesn't even have to tell you.

yeonjun: he's the flirty one all day long. even if he isn't feeling his best, he knows how to fake it until he makes it. loves to watch you respond to him even if it's all completely nonverbal. probably likes it even more then because it feels like it "worked" better. he knows if you're so affected by him that you can't formulate a response, he's got you wrapped around his finger right where he wants you. probably doesn't get flustered easily, but on the off-chance you catch him off guard, you're absolutely right that it's the cutest thing ever. he may not feel that way but it is.

beomgyu: the flirty one. i definitely think he gets flustered more easily than yeonjun, but he can cover it up much easier than other people. he can just laugh it off and pretend it doesn't affect him and he'll be pretty successful at this unless you're really good at reading people. it might even annoy you sometimes because you're trying to get a certain response out of him, but he's laughing you off and it makes you want to smack him lmao. but he f l i r t s, okay? always says some shit when you least expect it. like pulls you into him like he needs to whisper something important to you only to look directly into your eyes and tell you that he likes the perfume you're wearing today. keeps staring into your soul for a solid minute before diverting his attention elsewhere to leave you wondering, imagining.

taehyun: the awkward one. he's more subtle about things generally, so if you flirt with him in an obvious way, it makes him nervous. he'll just kinda smile at you and awkward chuckle before changing the subject because he does not know what to do in that situation. he's not even sure if he likes it because he's not necessarily a fan of things he's not good at oops. as he warms up to it and you, though, i can see him getting flirtier. i don't think he'd ever be the in-your-face kind of flirty, but he'll occasionally surprise you with a blunt take that steals the words out of your mouth.

hueningkai: both and neither? he's not particularly flirty nor particularly awkward. he'll engage in light flirting and finds it amusing. he doesn't fluster very easily with you unless you're at the top of your game, and even then, he's not so flustered that he's awkward. has no problem initiating with you either. will not hesitate to toss you a line over text with a winky emoji in the middle of the day for no reason at all. he's just vibing, you know? he's having a good time being with you. it's not so heavy for him.

#idk what to tag this 911 #ateez #txt #ateez fluff #txt fluff #ateez reactions #txt reactions #ateez headcanons #txt headcanons #th: ateez #th: txt

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