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sunshinesfreckless · 2 months ago

Text

His Spoiled Kitten

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Idol!Lee Know x fem!reader

Summary: Leeknow loves showing his Favourite Girl who she belongs to.

Warnings: Luxury ownership. Designer collars. ehehehe minho being sexy

A/N: Leeknow arrived to the spoiled series… Han and Changbin are next, don‘t worry my kittens <3

୨ৎ Felix ୨ৎ Hyunjin ୨ৎ Bangchan ୨ৎ Jeongin ୨ৎ Seungmin ୨ৎ Changbin ୨ৎ Han

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Minho didn’t do flashy.

He didn’t need to. He did exclusive.

Her Gucci collection didn’t come from store shelves.

It came from private appointments, whispered calls, and sketches sent to his inbox for approval. Each one designed with her in mind.

A velvet handbag dyed to match the flush on her cheeks when she came for him.

A pair of gold heels engraved with his initials under the sole, so she’d always have him beneath her.

A perfume created by the Gucci lab with notes of peach nectar and white musk — he named it “Mine.”

“I want her to smell like she belongs to me,” he’d told them. “And something sweet. She is sweet.”

He never let her see the invoices.

She didn’t need to.

He’d slide rings onto her fingers mid-conversation, like it was nothing.

Fold jackets over her shoulders in rooms that weren’t cold, just to see her wear his name.

And when Gucci sent over a mini-dress designed for events — deep green silk, bare-backed, dripping with subtle crystals — he only had one response:

“She’ll wear it at home. No one else gets to see her in that.”

And she did.

In their bedroom.

With nothing underneath but a thong he bought to match.

────୨ৎ────

He once got her a travel bag.

Cream leather, soft as sin. Her initials embossed in rose gold on the side.

She laughed. “I don’t travel enough to need this.”

“You will,” he said, zipping it open. “Check the inside.”

She did.

It was packed.

With envelopes.

Each one labeled in his neat, sharp handwriting:

• Paris – for the kiss on the Seine.

• Tokyo – for the night we stay in.

• Milan – for the Gucci headquarters. I want them to see how perfect you are in person.

He’d planned it all. First class, black cars, suites with balconies — and a new outfit for each destination, custom-tailored to her measurements.

“Minho,” she whispered, teary-eyed.

He only smiled, pulling her into his lap. “Told you. You don’t lift a finger unless it’s to touch me.”

And she did.

────୨ৎ────

He swore he just came for a wallet.

Simple. Clean. Black leather, nothing flashy — just something to replace the worn one he’d been using for three years.

But the second she sighed, it was over.

Minho followed her gaze without a word.

The bag was a soft cream Gucci Jackie — butter leather and gold hardware. She didn’t even say anything, just looked once and turned away like it was nothing.

Like she didn’t know he noticed.

He tapped the glass counter lazily. “We’ll take the bag too.”

The cashier brightened. “Anything else? It comes in a set with three—”

“Yes,” he cut in. Didn’t even let her finish.

His Girl turned, eyes wide. “Wait—”

“Choose the other bags,” he said simply, leaning back on the counter. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

The cashier smiled. “Follow me, Miss.”

This wasn’t the first time. Not with Minho.

Her collection was ridiculous by now, a full spectrum of spoiling.

Minho never blinked. Never asked twice.

He just gave.

Like the day he came home with a little velvet box and pulled out a diamond collar.

Not a choker. Not jewelry.

A collar — dainty but unmistakable. With his name engraved in cursive at the center, studded with tiny black diamonds.

“Come here,” he’d said that night, low and calm, snapping it around her throat.

“Now everyone knows who my kitten is, right?”

He’d tilted her chin up, kissed her mouth softly.

And then ruined her on the floor like she was made to be taken with his name glittering at her neck.

God, he loved how it looked when she went down on him like that.

Diamond collar catching the light. Tears sparkling on her cheeks. His hand fisted in her hair while she gagged so sweetly around him.

“Mine,” he’d growled, hips thrusting deeper, “look how fucking pretty my girl is like this.”

Minho didn’t just spoil. He claimed.

────୨ৎ────

He cooked for her like it was sacred.

Wouldn’t let her near a single knife or pan. Just sat her on the counter, fed her from the spoon, kissed her when she whined.

“Let me help—”

“No.”

“But—”

“No, kitten. Sit there and look pretty.”

He’d press kisses to her knee. Sometimes he’d undo the straps of her dress and fuck her right there against the fridge before the water even boiled. He liked to see her tits bounce.

She was soft. Sweet. So good for him.

And he?

He was everything. Rich, controlled, a little dangerous — but hers.

────୨ৎ────

It wasn’t supposed to be used like this.

The scarf had been a gift — crimson silk, embroidered with tiny cats and cherries, a nod to her two favorite things. He’d tied it gently around her neck when he first gave it to her, pressing a kiss just beneath the knot.

But now, it was wet with spit and stuffed between her lips.

“Shhh, baby,” Minho cooed, thumbing away a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re being so good for me, aren’t you?”

She whimpered, breath catching as he thrust deeper — slow, thick strokes that made her toes curl.

He was behind her, one hand fisted in her hair, the other resting on the small of her back, keeping her arched just the way he liked.

The scarf fluttered with every moan she choked on. Her Gucci gift — now her gag — pressed into her tongue like another brand of ownership.

And he loved it.

Loved seeing her spoiled and ruined, all at once.

A trembling doll made just for him.

“I should buy you another,” he murmured, voice low and amused. “One for every time I make you cry on my cock.”

He pulled back slightly, admiring the string of saliva that connected them to the scarf.

“Maybe one for every orgasm too. Hm?”

She could only sob in response, her walls fluttering around him like she was already saying yes.

────୨ৎ────

Minho had one room in their house locked.

She wasn’t supposed to go in.

But she peeked anyway, one day when he was gone for schedules.

What she found was a vault.

Dozens of boxes. Wrapped. Labeled.

Gucci. Cartier. Loewe. Rare editions. Archived pieces.

All neatly stacked, waiting for the right moment.

Shoes she hadn’t worn yet.

Dresses he never let her even see.

She was still standing there, stunned, when he walked in.

Caught red-handed.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue. “Curious kitten.”

Before she could apologize, he was already lifting her.

He sat her down — right on top of the stacked boxes. Velvet, silk, leather beneath her thighs.

She gasped.

“Since you’re up here,” he said, pushing her skirt up with slow fingers, “might as well give you a reason to come back.”

Her back hit the wall of the closet. He slid in without warning, one hand around her throat, his other gripping her thigh.

“Every one of these gifts,” he grunted against her ear, “is yours. But I’m your favorite, right?”

She nodded desperately, gasping against his mouth.

“Say it.”

“You,” she whimpered. “You’re my favorite gift.”

He smiled.

And made her scream that line three more times.

────୨ৎ────

But oh — she was in love with him. Not just the diamonds or the handbags or the silken scarf still damp with the memory of him.

No, she loved the way he looked at her when she was curled up on the couch in his hoodie, hair a mess, a cat asleep on each thigh.

She loved how he melted when she fed his babies before he even got the chance — Soonie, Doongie, and Dori happily flocking to her, as if she’d always belonged.

And he did too.

Some nights, he came home exhausted. His limbs heavy from hours of practice, his voice hoarse, his energy drained. But then he opened the door — and there she was.

His girl. His home.

Bundled up in the blanket he always said was too warm, half-asleep, a drama playing on low volume, and the cats purring beside her like guardians.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

“You’re back,” she whispered.

And he’d kneel at her feet, bury his face in her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist like a man starved.

“You stayed up?”

“Always.”

Because no matter how much he spoiled her — she was the one who gave him peace. Who gave him softness. Who never let him go to bed without a kiss, or leave the house without a snack.

He pressed his lips to hers, slow and sleepy.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever bought,” he teased, and she smacked his arm.

“I’m not for sale.”

“Exactly,” he murmured. “You’re priceless.”

And she was.

The one thing he couldn’t put in a shopping bag.

Only in his heart.

#felix #felix stray kids #felix x reader #felix yongbok #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids #lee felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know #leeknow x reader #leeknow smut #leeknow skz #lee minho

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wanders-in-wonderland · 10 months ago

Text

Smile for the Camera

It’s 10pm sharp when I start my stream. I’ve always been on time, always with my makeup on flawlessly, hair styled perfectly, and bedroom set curated just right to show my pretty pink sheets and collection of toys.

I smile and wave at the camera, tossing my hair back to reveal the pink lingerie set I’ve chosen for tonight.

“Good evening everyone! I’m sooo glad to see so many of you tuning in!”

The chat inbox floods with greetings from my audience and there’s an influx of money that comes from my particularly generous viewers. I giggle and flirt with my viewers, many of whom who have become regulars in my viewership population.

Someone in the audience asks for a strip tease and I feel my pussy pulse in response, looking forward to a night of performing for my devoted viewers.

I start slow, running my fingers up and down my body, brushing gently over my lingerie-clad nipples and whimpering loudly for the microphone to pick up. My eyes stare into the camera, all of my thoughts melting away as I fall into my role of entertainer.

Teasingly, I pull along the shoulder straps of my top, letting the fabric fall away from my chest to show off my perky tits and hardened nipples that are always a fan favorite. My hands dance over my chest, pulling gently at my nipples in a way that makes my moans completely genuine. My eyes glance to the screen and I see the excitement building in my chat box, and my account balance steadily rising.

Suddenly, I hear the lock on my door click and my body goes cold. The door to my room is out of the video shot, behind my camera setup and before I can even react, the door slams open.

I let out a startled yelp as my arms instinctively cover my chest. In the corner of my eye, I see the chat go crazy as my audience tries to figure out what it is they’re hearing but not seeing off screen. My attention is wholly focused on the man whose frame fills my doorway.

I scramble off my bed. “What the fuck? Why are you in my house?” My voice is shaking with fear and shrill with panic. I’m far too preoccupied to even think about the livestream anymore.

My fear deepens when I see him leer at me and stalk through my door and towards me without any hesitation.

“A fucking whore like you should be more gracious to me,” he says, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint. He and I are both in the camera’s view now and the viewers on my stream are firing off more messages than before, speculating over who he is and what is going on.

Without saying anything else, he moves to me faster than I can evade and grabs my hair. My mouth opens to scream but before sound can escape, he throws me chest down onto my bed. The air is forced out of my lungs and for a moment, I’m still and stunned. The next moment, he’s on me.

His hand is buried in my hair, keeping my face pressed down against the bed while he forces my ass up into the air. I struggle uselessly against him, unable to push up off the bed or move myself away from his ironclad grip. My cries are muffled against my bed and I want to scream and yell for help but there’s not enough air in my lungs.

His free hand lands a sharp slap against my ass that make me jolt forwards and arch my back further in pain. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to land blow after blow. My arms begin to flail, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto as I struggle.

“Stop fucking moving, whore,” he growls at me. I feel the spanks subside for a moment and I can feel my ass burning red and throbbing from the pain. My head spins from the abuse and the lack of oxygen. I feel his large hand find my wrist, his fingers locking around me in a bruising hold as he yanks my arm behind my back, straining my shoulder.

The hand on my head finally comes away and I raise my head just enough to gasp in much-needed oxygen. In that split second, he’d grabbed and secured my other arm behind my back as well, his one hand effortless holding my arms crossed behind my back. My body is still bent over, knees on the bed and ass up in the air. My only saving grace is that I can raise my head enough to breathe and glance at my laptop, showing the livestream still ongoing.

My eyes dart across the screen, reading messages as fast as I can. None of them show any concern for me, in fact, a vast majority are discussing how much they wished they were the ones holding my body down in this moment.

“Fuck yes, show that whore her place.”

“God, what would I do to be there to punish her for always teasing us.”

“I bet her cunt is dripping wet right now.”

I whine softly when I see that message because it’s right. “Please, let me go!” I turn my head to look at the menace of a man behind me. He flashes a dark grin at me, “Not until I fuck you out of your whore mind.”

His words echo in my head and panic rises within me. “Please! No! Stop! Someone help me!” I make eye contact with the camera, begging at its cold, dark lens.

He laughs behind me. “There’s no one here to help you, whore. You and I both know that every single person watching behind their computer screen is more than eager to see your whore body get ruined.”

As he speaks, his free hand pulls his belt and pants undone enough for him to pull his massive cock out. I let out a choked gasp when I see it.

“Wait, no, please, you’re too big, it’s not going to fit! Please!” My voice shakes and I start to struggle harder against him. His body dwarfs mine and I watch through the camera as he rips my panties off, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, whore.” I feel the head of his cock brush against my dripping slit and my eyes widen.

“Wait, please-” My begging ends in a wail as he slams himself into me to the hilt. The painful stretch makes tears spring into my eyes but unimaginable pleasure quickly follows as his cock nudges into every sensitive spot inside of me. He doesn’t give me time to adjust as he begins to rut into me mercilessly.

Every thrust makes my body shake with pain-tinged pleasure and pathetic moans are spilling out of my mouth as my eyes roll upwards. My hazy vision catches a glimpse of us on the camera. I look like a rag doll, back arched, ass in the air, and shuddering as he towers over me, his cock sinking into my cunt.

Every thrust is accompanied by the squelch of my wetness and the sound of our bodies slamming into each other. The bed creaks under us as his body moves like a machine, drilling into me. “Fuck, you tight fucking whore, your pussy was made for me huh?”

His voice is guttural. Suddenly, he grips my upper arms and yanks me upwards. His other hand comes around to grip my throat as he traps me against his front. The new angle makes his cock stab even deeper into me, forcing a cry from my lips.

“Look at the fucking camera, whore. Show them what a fucked out little slut you are. Go ahead, smile for the camera.” His thrusts seem to come even faster now.

I have tears falling from my eyes as my face reddens from his constricting grip around my neck.

“Smile or I choke you out on my cock like this,” he snarls, hips never stuttering in their punishing pace. I let out a muffled groan and try my best to focus myself enough to obey.

I stare through half-lidded eyes at the camera, barely coherent. My lips pull up in a small, desperate smile as I feel myself gradually running out of air.

“Good fucking whore. Now tell them how much you like having your whore cunt fucked.” His hand leaves my throat and goes to pinch my clit harshly, making me squeal.

“Ah- I like having, ah-, my whore cunt fucked!” My voice is hoarse, my orgasm fast approaching as he starts to roughly roll my clit between his fingers.

“That’s right, and you’re going to cum like this aren’t you, whore? Come on, cum all over me, show them how much you love this.” His words combined with the brutal assault on my body push me over the edge and with a desperate wail, I fall apart.

I hear him groan lowly behind me as my pussy clenches around him, my orgasm ripping through my senses. He uses my body harder than ever, treating me like a sex toy as he chases his own release. He slams himself into me one final time as he erupts, his grip bruising my arms as he keeps me in place.

I collapse against him, a boneless, overstimulated mess. He lets me down gently onto the bed, pulling out of me. The sound of his cock squelching out of my pussy makes my viewers more than aware of how well-fucked I am. He steps away from the bed and towards my filming setup. He leans into the camera and smirks.

“Let me know how else you want to see this whore fucked. If your idea is good, maybe I’ll let you come and enjoy her too.” With that, he shuts the camera off and closes out of the streaming site.

My body is still limp on the bed. I feel him settle next to me and pull me close before brushing my hair away from my forehead and kissing my nose.

“Do you think they liked me?” His murmurs.

“They loved you,” I say, breathless and drowsy from what we just did.

“I hope so, I wouldn’t want my debut on your stream to make a bad first impression,” he says, frowning down at me a little. It makes me let out a soft laugh.

I tilt my head up to kiss his jawline, “Only you would fuck the life out of me on livestream and then worry that you did a bad job.”

I giggle again and he grumbles back at me, “Shut up and sleep, I’ll clean up.” His kiss on my forehead is the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.

#nsft concept #dark fantasy #cnc k!nk #tw noncon #rap3 fantasy #cam grl #exhibition kink #aftercare #size difference #size k!nk #breathplay #bimboification #fsub #mdom #rough kink #rough cnc #roughfuck

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totalswag · 7 months ago

Note

Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!

I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕

bed chem ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.

warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.

Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.

At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.

Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.

You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.

He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.

To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.

Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.

You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.

You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.

Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.

Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body.

Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.

"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."

⎯⎯ my taglist!

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thetrasha · 5 days ago

Note

Hello again 👋 since you did such a stellar job last time, i'm here to request another Ace, Doffy, Law and Zoro story, this time about their first kiss x reader! Tysm and i hope you feel better soon ❤️

Thank you so much, anon. I feel much better, just suffering from a stuffy nose and a bit of a cough now 🫂(❁´◡`❁) It's actually so sweet to have recurring faces in my inbox~ And thank you so much for this request! I was super enthusiastic about writing this and poured everything I had into this 🫡Hope you enjoy it just as much!

PS. I'm so sorry for abusing your request like this, but I wanted to address another anon in my ask box 👀You requested a certain Corazon and hehe, yes I've just reached that part of Dressrosa! I just don't feel confident enough to portray him just yet so your request will be pushed a bit into the future, hope that's okay with you ♥ So excited to write about this man though ╰(*°▽°*)╯

PPS. I cooked. Again!!

First Kiss

feat. ACE, DOFLAMINGO, LAW, ZORO

ACE

Your first kiss was… sweet.

For quite some time, Ace and you have been inseparable. You’ve become fast friends after hitting it off, deciding to even go on missions together. Most of the others have caught onto you by now, silently offering their blessings, but you two were completely oblivious to the budding romance between you. It was perfectly normal to go up to Vista and give him a hug – why would it be different when Ace twirled you around after you returned from your little scout session on an unexplored island? Nobody blinked twice after you spent an evening playing cards with Marco in his room, but low whistles and wiggling eyebrows would follow you when Ace wanted to show you some random trinket he caught with his fishing rod. Additionally, everybody aw-ed and cooed when Whitebeard patted your hair and smiled down at you, but if Ace ever went as far as touch your shoulder out on the open deck, some other commander was always near to berate him on ‘how to treat a lady properly’.

You haven’t been around as long as most of the others, so… maybe this is just how the crew decided to affectionately tease Ace since he was the youngest commander around?

However, Ace was very much aware of the others’ constant meddling and why they were so keen on making his life miserable.

He’d told Marco to back off once – just once! – because the doctor had been acting too familiar with you when Ace was the one who was madly in love with you. That single sentence spread like wildfire amongst the crew and now he cannot even do best-friend-esque things with you without someone else trying to ruin the moment.

It was totally normal to develop a huge crush on your best friend. You are gorgeous, so loving and you care so much – maybe too much.

It was also perfectly fine and not unusual to stare at them for moments at a time, trying to muster up the courage to ask you out on a da-

“ACE!!! YOU’RE SETTING THE BED ON FIRE. OUT WITH YOU!”

Marco’s scream rang across the entire Moby Dick, alerting everyone with ears that Ace had just embarrassed himself again. Originally, he went in to see Marco because of ...certain problems, but he couldn’t quite tell him that you were constantly in his head and making his heart leap into his throat every single time he thought about your smile or how nice you smelled today and how cute you looked in the outfit you showed him…

Sigh.

Luckily for him, you were just within earshot to hear Marco’s crazy rant… that still ran its course in the background, and you immediately sought Ace out to help him.

You had your own hammock with you and let him follow you wordlessly into his room. This time, nobody was even there to interrupt.

You started talking about what you were up to before you heard Marco’s alarm bells ringing in the med bay. Of course, you were a natural at taking care of Ace… but that was very much part of the problem!!

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you with so much longing in his eyes that it would have made anyone blush. You were his missing piece, better half – whatever they want to call it.

You’ve seen him through it all, but you weren’t tired of him. You didn’t mind his quieter moments and you always offered your shoulder to him – just to lean on and cry if necessary.

Of course, you wouldn’t think much of sleeping next to him. Your actions were platonic in nature and Ace would actually quit the crew if he made you uncomfortable in any way… but he almost got pulled back into reality when you innocently pointed at his own hammock, not knowing that he was lost in thought.

“Or do you wanna cuddle?”, you questioned innocently.

...And Ace choked on his own saliva. He just knew that his cheeks were crimson red and boiling. This was humiliating… he unusually had excellent control over his powers, but you rendered him completely powerless against you and you didn’t even know it!

…That being said, of course he wants to cuddle.

He lied down next to you and wrapped his arms around your torso, feeling just how warm you were and how your steady breathing immediately calmed him down. It was like a magical remedy, but he could feel his eyes flutter –

– and that’s when his eyes locked onto yours. You wore a precious smile and you seemed to glow next to him. That’s how happy you looked… absolutely stunning.

But he did almost faint when you leaned in to briefly peck his lips to tell him that you love him, too.

WAIT.

“TOO?!”

DOFLAMINGO

Your first kiss was… dangerous.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me! You cannot push me around, Doflamingo!”

You spit words of venom at him just after you realised that you were now working… directly under his command, just like he threatened.

Doflamingo, meanwhile, could only grin in amusement. Of course you thought he was bluffing, thinking of you as nothing more than a little plaything. Oh, how utterly wrong you were. He saw right through you – you were probably testing him, just like how he tested your loyalty. You wanted him to take the bait and push you away, just so you’d have a reason to close yourself off again and go solo. He knew those tactics by heart, sweetheart.

No, he wasn’t kidding when he said that you should be working for him. If you wanted to work, that is. You could just enter the family business, love, after all… you might as well be family at this point. Heh.

He’d entertain your need for independence for as long as you want him to, though. This is how he took notice of you after all.

So what if he stole you right out of another underground broker’s filthy pawns? They weren’t fit to stand next to you anyway. You outshone everybody… especially your former employer. Doflamingo’s been watching you for longer than you may have realised, just to find a flaw within you… but when he found none, the obsession swung in the opposite direction: He was no longer pettily snappish towards you for going after his clients to boost your boss’s image, sweetheart no… you were suddenly a woman worthy of his own calibre. No mistakes, no fear and… one glaringly obvious flaw turned asset – you trusted absolutely nobody.

And just like him, your desire for unmitigated loyalty was like a noose around your pretty neck.

You’d no longer have to deal with these rats who waste your talent away for arms deals that amount to nothing, you were meant to shape the new world order alongside yours truly.

You were just waiting for him.

“Say something!”

Doflamingo smirked before he walked up to you, grabbing your jaw with such speed that you barely had the time to react. It was laughable how he didn’t even have to activate his Devil Fruit powers to restrain you. His freakish height didn’t just give him the opportunity to loom over you, it also came with unimaginable strength. He could almost feel your jawbone crack under the pressure, but you would be caught dead before you uttered a single complaint.

“We crave the same thing, you and I. Letting you rot away pointlessly… might as well break my heart.”

A chuckle echoed through the otherwise empty room, but you weren’t amused at all. You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw. He could feel the muscles beneath his fingers contract and his pupils dilated at the sight and the sensation.

“How dramatic. Almost brought me to tears.”

Your sarcasm earned yourself a laugh. He let go of you, but you could very much feel a string attach itself to your hand. Doflamingo knew better than to turn you into his puppet, but he very much wanted to remind you of what he was capable of. You were above everybody else, but still beneath him. You don’t have to submit, but you should know when to behave.

“You’re the only one to speak to me like that.”, he noted nonchalantly, “And after we’ve been on a bunch of dates, too. Tragic. Woe is me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, sighing in defeat. You knew that he was right.

Yeah, he might have… pulled some strings to get you to agree to meeting him away from glamorous galas and dangerous deals, but he got to know you and your innermost desire. You wanted to trust someone wholeheartedly.

Well, Doflamingo happened to know just the guy.

“Dates where you’ve tried to kill yourself or me.”, you added just as coolly, voice monotone and face neutral. Totally befitting for a Queen.

“And you kept us both safe, my love.”

He licked his lips before breaking out in a dark chuckle that turned maniacal for just a moment. Oh, he was ecstatic that you’ve proven your loyalty towards him. You were everything he’s ever wanted.

“Now it’s my turn to protect you.”, he vowed before he kissed your hand, looking into your eyes while doing so.

Your pupils were blown out.

Bingo.

“Lean down.”, you calmly ordered.

And it’s one of the only commands he’s ever taken from someone else.

You gingerly kissed him, not even letting him taste a drop of your essence before you pulled away, smirking at him with self-satisfaction.

He turned his head with a smile until you blew him another kiss, turning heel and then walking to your new room.

Damn.

He just let go of the string holding onto you.

LAW

Your first kiss was… an accident.

Law had been pretty nervous about this.

He’s always been a profoundly reserved man who kept matters of the heart private, but he couldn’t deny that he was actually quite excited to take your relationship to the next level. He really, really trusted you – and now that he has you, he’s not going to let go. You’re his forever love now. After all, despite seeming like he couldn’t care less, he was a romantic deep down… and terribly inexperienced. It didn’t matter to him whether you were in the same boat or not, he couldn’t actually care less about that part; he was just insecure about making a decision on whether… he was ready at all to open up like that and offer his heart to you.

Law was very much self-aware and intelligent enough to recognise the signs: He wasn’t just in love with you; he truly loved you.

This bond ran deep.

And although he trusted you completely and wholeheartedly, he wasn’t sure if you wouldn’t be put off by that constant contradiction in his behaviour… most others judged it quite harshly, after all.

He didn’t reciprocate much, aside from talking. Yes, he held you in the privacy of his room and nuzzled his head against your neck, but if you wanted something like that, you could just pick up any stray cat from the streets.

He knew! He knew that it wasn’t enough, damn it. But it was just so hard to keep his composure whenever you placed a gentle kiss against his cheek and lovingly patted his spotted hat before placing those warm hands on his shoulders. You always squeezed him with so much affection and care that he just froze in shock.

The man who couldn’t even hold your hand in public loved you so purely that he wanted to kiss you? How ludicrous.

Most of the people who knew about your relationship probably thought that he was doing you a favour and entertaining the idea of a relationship without actual commitment, but… they had no idea. Absolutely no idea.

Even if he had trouble showing it, Law was proud to call himself your boyfriend. The thought alone made him bashful, though. His breath hitched, those tattooed fingers twitched very briefly before he closed his hand into a loose fist, rubbing his sweaty palms with his fingertips and he could hear his own heartbeat echo in his ear canals.

“I brought you tea, Law. You’re working so hard… don’t push yourself too far.”

…Yeah, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he didn’t get any work done today; his head was just in the clouds since he’s been too caught up in his own thoughts…about you. These maps weren’t studied at all – all he did was study how soft your lips would feel against his-

“Thank you, (Y/N)-ya.”, he tried to play it off smoothly, but he had to clear his throat after saying your name. His longing for you made his voice a lot softer, a lot more… vulnerable. He didn’t want to scare you off with his sudden change in behaviour, which meant that he had to keep his voice monotone at all cost.

Today, you put your hands on his shoulders first, causing Law to tense up immediately. He turned his head to hide his pathetic blush from you – immediately butting heads with you.

And-

Oh my God.

He tore his lips away from yours. That was so sloppy and clumsy, he-

Law is devastated. If you look closely, you could actually watch his soul leave this plane-

He looked at you, noting how your eyes swam around looking anywhere but him and that you couldn’t contain your smile. The corners of your mouth trembled before curling up into a sweet grin that had him melt on the spot.

“I’m sorry, Law, I didn’t mean to-”

Law couldn’t help but cut you off with a kiss that surprised the both of you. It wasn’t a good one; he was too nervous, too tense, his face was stiff and he couldn’t quite close his eyes, looking at you to burn this image into his mind instead.

You didn’t have to apologise. He didn’t want to make you feel like you had to feel sorry for anything – especially not something as meaningful as this.

Besides, the fact that you enjoyed it just as much and went lax in his arms was… everything.

ZORO

Your first kiss was… powerful.

“Again!”

“…”

“Again!”

“…”

“One more!”

“…Zoro.”

“Just once.”

“Zoro,” you sighed, “You need a break. You’ve been at it for hours now.”

Zoro knew that. God, did he know it. Frustrated with himself, he grunted lowly before lowering his swords. His jaw was already hurting from biting down on the blade’s handle for so long, but he couldn’t help himself.

He’s been living inside the crow’s nest for the past two days at this point.

Two days ago, you got hurt. It shouldn’t affect him this bad… Luffy got hurt, too, as did Usopp, but you were… his partner. Your injuries might as well have been cuts into his heart – he saw you fall into Franky’s arms with a nasty gnash right across your thigh. You were bleeding so much and that scream… it will haunt him now.

Someone thought that you were an easier target than Brook or Franky, who were standing firmly by your side as you bought time for Nami to set sail, protecting the Sunny from any assault raining down on you guys. Zoro could barely watch from the sidelines, too engrossed in fighting his own opponent as Luffy and Sanji took on their captain right next to him. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the Straw Hats could defeat any enemy with enough time and focus as everyone had their unique skill set and purpose, yet as soon as Zoro’s blades clashed against the fellow swordsman’s rapier, he heard your blood-curdling scream. It must have hurt so bad – he knew what deep cuts felt like and just how badly they burnt when saltwater got into the fresh wound, but he’d been training himself to deal with any bit of pain. You were never meant to be the recipient of an injury at the hands of another, because Zoro had sworn to himself that they’d have to go through him first.

But there were you – crying and hyperventilating as Franky tried applying pressure onto your seeping wound while Brook had to unsheathe his sword and cut down those enemies all by himself now…

Well, until Zoro zoomed across the battlefield with unprecedented fury, pushing himself to his very own limits.

Usually, the crew promised to minimise casualties. In a matter of life and death, of capture or kill, Luffy would always choose capture – he knew that some things had to be done, some sins had to be committed, but overall, you were all quite peaceful…

Until that scream.

“We can ask Sanji for a drink, you know… I bet he’d even make you a snack.”, you mused happily.

Zoro’s eyes snapped up and he calmly took a deep breath in, disguising it as an annoyed huff. You were fine. Well, as fine as you could be. Your leg was swollen and the blood has soaked through the bandages on your thigh, leaving a bit of red residue that perfectly mimicked the shape of your wound. Otherwise, you were okay. You had to redress that cut with fresh bandages every night because of the humid climate, but everything was okay.

Logically, your green-haired friend knew that there was nothing to worry about, but he couldn’t help but feel like a failure.

You were important to him! You… weren’t protected when you needed it the most.

You needed him and he wasn’t there.

You were damn good at what you do. That’s why Zoro often chose to hang off of you, following you around. It was so easy to be around you. Most often, you’d even talk to him… you knew very well that your swordsman wasn’t actually fast asleep, he was just preserving energy if it came down to the worst.

Ugh, it did come down to it and he wasn’t there.

Fucking-

“This isn’t about getting stronger, is it, Zoro?” Your hands grasped at his bulging forearms, strained from swinging his swords at the objects you threw all day, and you affectionately caressed his scarred flesh. You were even kind enough to offer him a sad smile.

“I… You… I… You’re important to me.”, he confessed through gritted teeth, averting his gaze. He tried to fight being obvious about it, but you could feel goosebumps rise beneath your warm hands even though he’d just finished a workout and was drenched in sweat.

“Zoro… You’re important to me, too. That’s why you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. You were there, in the end, as you always are. I know I can rely on you.”

He shook his head in disapproval but leaned in to press his lips against yours. It was a measured kiss, just long enough to get you to briefly feel his plush lips and get especially close to him while your hands still held onto his arms.

And when you smiled, Zoro knew that… yes, you could rely on him. Forever.

#fem reader #one piece #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #zoro x reader #x reader #thetrasha writes #thetrasha requests

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propertyofwicked · 1 year ago

Text

HOT WINGS - LN

lando and his girlfriend take on the quadrant hot wings challenge

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - literally none, quite short, some swearing. this is mainly just chaos if im completely honest

masterlist the playlist

“ok guys we’re starting off easy - this is siracha, i believe,” max said, looking to lando and y/n who sat opposite him.

“easy? i get lemon and herb at nandos,” lando whined, but still taking a bite from the wing.

“lan it’s just siracha? that’s basically mayo?” y/n told him, staring in disbelief as she saw him wince at the spice.

“easy for you to say - you smother your food in it like there’s no tomorrow.”

“max just ask the question,” she prompted, ignoring her boyfriends complaints.

“ok bossy - erm, what was your first experience of motorsport?”

the two of them answered the questions as best as they could, max trying not to laugh harder with each spice increase. even y/n was struggling, but not as much as lando who was now turning red and standing up to walk off the pain.

“this is “da bomb” - 300,000 on the scoville scal- lando are you good?” max started, interrupting himself at the sight of lando ripping the lid off the ice cream tub.

“just ask the fucking question max,” lando shouted, whilst rubbing ice cream around his lips, “please.”

“you’ve gotta eat the chicken first you muppet,” y/n chimed in, holding out a wing with the tiniest amount of sauce on it.

“hold my hand,” he asked her, taking the wing from her before grabbing her hand and interlocking their fingers. his grip was tight, and it didn’t help that he remained stood up, so her arm was suspended in the air as they both took a bite of the chicken.

“hold my hand??” max said through his laughter, “you’re eating chicken not giving birth?”

“the pain is worse,” lando told him, quickly dodging the wing that y/n launched in the direction of his head.

“y/n - can you explain this photo for everyone please?” max asked, holding up his phone to show an image of her, fast asleep on his bathroom floor, shoes still on and her head using a box of fries and donner kebab as a pillow.

“max fewtrell you PROMISED you’d never bring that picture up,” she shouted, covering her mouth as the spice travelled.

“answer the question.”

“i was drunk and tir- and oh my god is this sauce even legal?” she asked him quickly, sticking her tongue out to attempt to weaken the intensity.

“you know there’s still more, right?” he laughed at her, watching the way her arms reached out to lando. though she didn’t want him, she wanted the ice cream he was clutching to his chest, but he wouldn’t give it up.

“lando pass me the fucking ice cream or ill tell everyone that you cry when you cum”

“oh god please cut that out,” lando laughed, though giving up the ice cream quickly.

“no denying it though mate?” max laughed out, smacking his hand on the table.

“my mouth is in too much pain. should i be sweating? why am i sweating?” he continued, grabbing the bottle of milk in front of him.

“lando - can you explain what happened in this picture here?” max asked, holding up his phone once more.

milk shot from lando’s mouth, spraying across the table and onto y/n as he saw the picture, laughter taking over.

“i’m just not cut out for cycling,” he said with a shrug, before downing another mouthful of milk.

“why was his picture so much nicer than mine?” y/n asked with a whine before shovelling more ice cream into her mouth.

“you always look good y/n,” lando tried to reassure her with a smile.

“shut the fuck up,” she replied, flinging a spoon of ice cream at him, melted slightly as it landed slap bang on his nose.

“i know you’re lashing out because of the spice but honestly that is quite refreshing,” he laughed at her, using the back of his hand to wipe the food away.

“ok - hell fire hot sauce, this one is 2 million on the scoville scale.”

“2 MILLION?” lando shouted at his friend, y/n mouth just opened in disbelief.

“it’s ok baby we’re almost done,” she told him, rubbing his shoulder softly.

“i can’t wait to feel my mouth again,” he replied, ignoring her affection slightly before turning to face her as he wiped the sweat off her forehead, “if you look like that i don’t want to imagine what i look like.”

“rude.”

the two of them took their final bites, trying to remain sitting still as the spice took over but with little success. y/n took to crouching down on the floor, clutching at lando’s arm as he laughed at her.

“y/n, final question - who is the best looking f1 driver?” max asked, looking between his friends with a grin.

“ever or current?”

“ever,” max told her as lando whipped his head round to stare at her intently, but she didn’t notice as she had turned her head to stare into the camera directly.

“jenson button i am asking for one chance,” y/n said bluntly, bringing her hands into a prayer.

“jens- Y/N?? are you kidding me right now?”

“he’s a good looking man what can i say,” she replied with a shrug, smiling wickedly at her boyfriend, “at least he doesn’t have ice cream running down his face right now.”

“what about current drivers?” lando asked her, attempting to remain composed despite the fire burning through his mouth. she turned her head to the camera again, slowly.

“fernando alonso i am asking for one chanc-”

“FERNANDO?” lando shouted, milk spilling down his top once more, “when my mouth doesn’t feel like literal hell we are so breaking up.”

“but if someone asked you who the best looking member of quadrant was you wouldn’t say me,” she retorted before taking a spoonful of ice cream.

“well no id have to say max.”

“exactly.”

“y/n don’t be silly - look at him!” lando shouted back, hand extending to point at the man who was now wheezing in laughter, clutching at his sides.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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scorpioriesling · 20 days ago

Text

Hate Loving you

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden x reader

Warning(s): smut, mdni, 18+, nsfw, light angst, fluff

Summary: Your usual routine with your sworn enemy becomes a little more complicated as time passes... especially when an arranged marriage is on the table.

SR’s Note: Um... enemies to lovers? We love it? @sheblogs had a great idea for a part 2 to this story, so here it is! I'd reccomend reading part 1 first, so you're all caught up. Hugs and kisses! xo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Love Hating You

Basgiath was colder than you'd imagined; so cold infact, your warm breaths could be seen before you, small wisps of steam against the bitter winter air.

You followed closely behind the king, taking two steps to keep up with his one. The group was silent, walking in uniform formation -- so silent that you were sure the others would hear the racing of your heart, if you were not careful.

"Halt!" King Tecarus raised a hand. Everyone immediately stopped, waiting for the next direction. The King turned, signaling for the few soldiers to enter first.

"I want the trained to enter with me," he announced, then motioned to the other half of the group. "The rest of my counsel will meet with the principal, as well as a few trusted advisors to discuss our trade agreement."

Everyone nods and begins on their way. You look to the King, quickly approaching him before he can turn to walk away.

"And for me, Sir?" You asked. He turned sharply, his familiar frown greeting you in answer.

"You're headed down to the artillery room," he says matter-of-factly. "Isn't that why you demanded to come?"

You nodded, trying your best to convince him and yourself of your role here.

"Absolutely sir," you said, nodding in salute. He relaxed a little, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

"There's a reason I allowed you to come, and not Catriona." He said softly. Your throat bobbed, registering the implication. You'll get the job done, he seemed to say. My neice wouldn't.

With that, you assured him you'd see to it that all of the weapons were delivered, and went on your way.

✧･ﾟ: *

The artillery room was packed when you got there. Men scrambled from box to box, unloading empty wooden crates and piling machienery onto the backs of Cordyn's armored trucks. You looked from box to box, ensuring all weapons were delivered in full. Once verified, the trucks departed, making their way back to Krovla.

Your brow furrowed as you approached the last truck. You seached the boxes, realizing a few weapons were missing. Groaning, you turned to the attendant nearest you -- a dark haired male with tanned skin. You nearly did a double-take; the striking resemblance between him and Xaden was...

"Hey!" You called, approaching him quickly. He turned to look up at you, pausing his current unboxing task and placing his hands on his hips. His cheeks were flushed red, likely from the bitter cold. He sniffled before answering you.

"Can I help you?" He said. You gestured to the last remaining truck, brows raising in question.

"Uh, yeah," you said matter-of-factly. "The last truck. We're supposed to have three boxes of long blades -- there's only one in there."

He looked plainly at you, his eyes cataloging every one of your features. Your brows narrowed, and you opened your mouth to demand an explaination but he beat you to it.

"I was told that truck was to recieve only one box," he explained calmly. You laughed humorlessly, folding your arms across your chest.

"Yeah, that makes sense -- we can supply an entire army with just one box," you said. The male shrugged, shaking his head.

"I just do what I'm told."

"Yeah?" You asked, steppikng closer. "And, who exactly is telling you, huh? Becaused my orders come directly from the King, and he specifically said-"

"Y/N," he said, his eyes widening. "You're Y/N... aren't you."

You paused your rampage, your brows knitting.

"Yeah, and?"

The male laughed, dropping his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up at you again, there was pure delight in his eyes.

"I've been told a whole lot about you," he said slowly, grinning like a child on Christmas. "You're the girl he's so crazy about." You started to get angry, wondering who the Hell was walking around this place talking about you of all people.

"Oh really? And, may I ask what exactly you've heard?"

He shrugged. "Good and bad. Mostly good, I guess, though my cousin's judgement is sometimes questionable-"

In that moment you lunged for him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and bringing his face inches before yours. His eyes flew wide in surprise.

"Ow! Hey-"

"Who. Is. This, Cousin?" You asked lowly. The brunette simply gulped, and you fisted his shirt tighter. "WHO?"

"Okay! Okay," he relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "His name is Xaden -- you know him? Xaden Riorson?"

Your blood ran cold, and in that instant you dropped the kid. No wonder they looked so much alike -- they were related.

You should've known. Should've known you'd run into something like this.

Behind you, the truck's engine revved, preparing for departure. Surely, the King would reem you for not getting all the supplies negotiated for -- but now, you knew who was responsible for it.

You stormed out of the area, pushing past anyone who got in your way. Most of the males in the room gave you odd looks as you thundered past -- you didn't care. There was only one objective, one male on your mind.

And Gods help him if he didn't know you had arrived. Soon, youd ensure he would.

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd stormed through the doors of the main building, ignoring the students walking from one class to the next. If Xaden was here, you'd be sure to find him -- it was only a matter of time.

Walking the halls, you passed door after door, inspecting the nameplates as you went; Duvera, Kaori, Emmetario. Scoffing, you continued on, as surely he wouldn't be in a professor's office as a student himself.

It took damn near a half an hour until the halls had cleared, and the silence stretched. You were grateful for it, as you could make out which rooms were in use and which ones weren't. It was warmer inside the building, that you were also grateful for -- that was, until you approached an unmarked door. The voices inside talked in heated discussion, and you slowed your steps.

Approaching slowly, you inched toward the cracked open doorway, recognizing a few of the voices inside.

"This would be a fruitful allegiance, both for Cordyn and Navarre." That one was definately King Tecarus'.

"Fruitful, yes -- but would it even make sense?" This one, you'd also heard before. It sounded an awful lot like one of the Tyrrish court members that visited alongside Xaden when he came to Cordyn.

You leaned in, straining your hearing as the argument ensued.

"Who cares about sense," a woman's voice sounded. "Think of what's best for the school!"

"I'm not being married off despite my own wishes for a damn school, General."

That one, was unmistakenly Xaden's. Your brows narrowed as you took in what he was saying, realizing your artillery dispute may have to wait.

"But just think of the opportunity it'd bring you -- it'd bring to Tyrrendor too!" The King exclaimed. A few others commented as well, their reactions all mixed.

"You should be grateful the King is willing to strike an alliance with you," the General chastized. "You were born a rebel, after all. This at least would do youe father some justice."

There was a scuffle, and you jumped as Xaden's shouting echoed through the hallway.

"DON'T YOU SAY A WORD ABOUT MY FATHER!" He exclaimed. You cupped a hand over your mouth, realizing the general he was speaking to was in fact General Sorrengail. If you were remembering the words in your history book correctly -- she didn't take kindly to members of the rebellion.

"Xaden! Please!" Another male pleaded. "Let's keep this civil."

You heard his sigh, and dared to peek around the corner. You couldn't see much through the small crack, but you did see movement in the room.

"The best way of doing that is marrying my niece," King Tecarus interjected. "She's a wonderful girl, really. She'll make a great ruler. All you'd have to do is-"

"I'm not doing that," Xaden replied, his tone lethal. "I won't be marrying anyone, unless it's for the sake of love."

Your blood ran cold. Marriage? To Catriona?

All the thoughts inside your head began to swim. Was the King serious? They weren't even dating -- sure, your friend had hinted at her interest in the Tyrrish male, but they didn't even know one another! How did the King expect marriage from him? And for what, the sake of uniting the two provinces?

You realized you were breathing harder, heavier. This couldn't be happening. Xaden could not be engaged to Cat. After all that had happened between the two of you...

The door flew open in an instant, and you jumped back so fast you stumbled and fell on your ass. Lo and behold, Xaden burst through the door, shadows leaping and dancing as he strode out. He noticed you instantly, watching as he scrambled to your feet. The rage in his eyes flared as he registered your face, instantly gripping your arm and yanking you to your feet.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here." He said, more as a demand than a question. You glared at him, attempting and failing to wrench your arm free.

"Actually, I came here to berate you for giving your cousin such a rediculous order reguarding our weapons supply -- but now, I suppose I'm here to merely congradulate you." Your tone was icy, amused even -- but Xaden bought none of it.

The golden flecks in those eyes intensified as he stared down at you, both confused and still angry.

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

Behind him, an unknown male peeked through the doorway, cupping his hands around his mouth as he called out.

"Xaden, please come back. We have more to discuss!"

Xaden didn't even glance at him as he gripped your arm tighter, tugging you along with him as he strode down the hallway and opened the doors to the rear stairwell.

"Bad idea coming here," he growled, yanking you along with him as he took two steps at a time. You tripped, working to keep up but also trying to deny everything you'd just heard.

"Really, bad, fucking, idea."

✧･ﾟ: *

"Tell me again why the fuck you're here," Xaden demanded, pushing you through the doorway and slamming it behind him.

You scoffed. "What, is it so hard for you to believe the King brought me to ensure weapons delivery?" Xaden loosed a harsh breath through his nose, striding across the room in the direction of his desk. "You think that, what, because I'm a girl, I can't handle it?"

Xaden barked out a laugh, pressing his palms into the wooden top of his workspace.

"I don't doubt it for a minute, actually -- you're really good at arguing," he said, though it came off more as a backhanded compliment.

"So why only give us one box of-"

"That's not why you're really here," he insisted, cutting you off as he stood straight again. "You came here for something else, and I want to know what it is."

You huffed, looking anywhere but him. FInally able to take in your surroundings, you realized you were in a dorm room. His, for that matter. The black silken sheet bed, the reports in a neat pile on his bedside table... this was surely his room.

Turning to him again, you were forced to consider what you'd known all along. You couldn't believe how easy it was for him to figure out, how he could see right through you -- but with him, it seemed he would be able to read you like a book on any given day.

"I ... I'm not sure what I thought would happen. Me coming here, I mean." You admitted quietly. He took a step toward you, his dark presence intimidating had you not known him so well. You stared up at him for a moment, before facing the sad truth that was now becoming your reality.

"It doesn't really matter though why I came -- it's clear that in nine months, you'll be married. To my best friend."

The silence that followed was capapble of swallowing you whole. Xaden didn't move, he just stood there, brooding as you stared at the floor. Neither of you knew what to say, how to put the words you wanted into sentences to be said out loud.

He broke it finally, his voice quiet when he spoke.

"I'm not marrying Catriona." He said. You hated the way the tears came, so fast and threatening you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. Your breath caught in your throat when your hand was taken in his, your gaze following as he lifted it and placed it on his chest. Beneath your fingertips, you felt his heart, beating so fast it would win a race had it been in one.

"It sounds like the most logical option to me," you countered, still trying to make sense of it yourself. "She's in line for the throne, Xaden. She's royal by blood and-"

"And I said. I'm not. Marrying. Her." He said, voice clipped. You stared up into his eyes, trying to read the answers hidden in them.

"But why?" You whispered, your voice breaking. He tilted his chin down then, inching his face toward yours. You swallowed hard, trying to save yourself from the impending heartbreak you were sure was to come.

"I'm not in love with her," he whispered, his lips a featherlight touch against yours. Your skin ignited in every place the two of you touched, set ablaze by the flame burning between the two of you. Every night you'd gone to bed in denial, every heartache you swore wasn't tied to his absence... you couldn't deny it any longer. For every insult, every eye-roll, every harsh word you threw at him -- you wanted him. Needed his presence, craved his attention. And for all that mattered, you knew a marriage between him and your best friend would absolutely shatter you.

You leaned in right then, pressing your lips to his. The touch was light and warm -- not as desperate and hungry as the last time. Reguardless, this was only the second time you'd kissed; and you'd be damned not to make it last.

Parting your lips, you silently asked for more -- more of him, more of this. These were the moments you could never rid yourself of, the moments you hated to love sharing with him. He obliged, his lips parting as he kissed you back. His hands found your waist, sliding around your hips and settling on your lower back. You reached both hands up, tangling your fingers in the onyx strands near the base of his neck as you lost yourself in him. In his touch, in his taste, his smoke and shadow scent -- you craved it all.

"This, is a, bad idea" you said between kisses. He tugged you closer in response, clutching you to him as though he'd crumble without you. He breathed deeply before answering, only pulling back an inch before kissing you again.

"You're full of bad ideas," he whispered, and you genuinely smiled. Your heart leaped as he cupped both hands under your ass, lifing you with ease. You giggled, for once not scolding yourself for the sound, and sighed as he laid you gently on his bed. You stared up at him, his eyes round with emotion.

"I don't think I've ever appreciated how beautiful you are," he said softly. The tears that had sat on your waterline threatened to spill over, ecpecially as he continued to admire you from above. "You're the most exquisite thing I think I've ever seen."

A single tear slipped free, and he was quick to catch it. You sniffled as you looked up at him, a small, sad smile on his face.

"Xaden Riorson... don't tell me you're going soft now," you teased, though emotion coated every word you spoke. A small smile tilted his lips as his fingers worked, undoing your pants and tugging them down. He unlaced your boots, then pulled off your socks... underwear next. You helped by removing your sweater and bra, and when he was finally undressed before you -- you realized you'd never felt so bare in front of him.

His gaze roamed over your body as he stood between your knees, his eyes softer than you'd ever seen. As he leaned in, a single kiss was placed to your lips -- one that lingered, one given as a reminder.

You tensed as he positioned himself at your entrance, not engaging in any wild foreplay or torture as the two of you usually did. This time, his actions were slow, meaningful.

"I'd only ever be soft towards you," he promised, sliding his cock inside of you. You gasped, the awaited feeling bringing you instant pleasure after being denied it for so long. "Though, you get me pretty damn hard, I'll tell you that."

You lauguhed, loud and bellious as he smiled down at you, joining in on your chuckling. It warmed your heart to see him smile, really smile like this -- even if it was while being buried inside of you.

He breathed slow as he thrust in and out of you, his pace more restrained than you'd ever experienced. His eyes never left yours, watching and studying your face as though this was the last time he'd see it. Your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for support as his braced your hip and tangled in your hair.

"I... I love you," he said quietly. Your cheeks flushed, not quite believing what you just heard. His gaze turned worried when you said nothing, and though he brought you immense pleasure, you eventually found your words.

"I love you, Xaden Riorson," you whispered, leaning up to engage him in a passionate kiss. You pulled back, still leaning up to speak directly against his lips.

"I think I've always loved you. I don't know," your breath caught as the tears came again. "I don't know how I'd ever be able to stop."

He sighed as his forehead pressed against yours, drawing in every soft moan you let out as he continued making love to you. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again that you noticed the wetness on his lower lashes, too. You reached up a shaking hand, placing it on his cheek as you wiped away at his sorrow.

He opened his eyes, looking at you once more.

"I still have to convince myself you're real," he said, the hand he had tangled in your hair moving to touch your cheek as well. "You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I was too stupid to do anything about it."

You gasped as he rubbed against your sweet spot, one he's known and got used to over the last few years. You smiled softly, placing both hands on his shoulders once more.

"You are stupid," you joked, giggling at the way he frowned at you. You leaned in again, softly kissing at his jaw. "But you're mine."

He grunted, his grip on your waist tightening. He thrusted harder into you, drawing out your pleasure until the last possible second before sending you tumbling over the edge. He followed right behind you, gasping as he released himself within you. The two of you stayed there, one on top of the other for a while, just looking into the other's eyes. It wasn't for a while until he pulled himself out of you, opting to lay beside you and tuck you into his chest instead. You had nearly drifted off, his warmth wrapped around you reminding you how tired you'd grown afte the day's events. He kissed your forehead, over and over as the two of you fell asleep there, a quiet comfort amidst your world's constant chaos.

✧･ﾟ: *

#fourth wing xaden #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x y/n #xaden riorson x oc #xaden riorson x reader #iron flame imagine #iron flame #onyx storm #fourth wing smut #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #the empyrean series #fourth wing x you #the empyrean #read more

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brattyvox · 8 months ago

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★ GALLY’S GIRL — MxF.

NAVIGATION — MASTERLIST // Inbox to be on Taglist!

Thomas has just arrived at the Glade, and only days after his arrival, a girl is introduced, and the first person who catches her eye is Gally.

GENRE ★ Fluff if you squint?

PAIRING ★ Fem reader x Gally

WARNINGS ★ Reader is implied to be injured, nothing serious though, Gally’s a bit of an asshole, reader kind of replaces Teresa? Idk, you’re Teresa in this case, reader is of age.

Word Count — 2.94k

My first ever fic on tumblr, lol.. i hope u guys like it :))

In the early dawn, the glade was alive with the hum of activity. Thomas, still new to the group, was already finding his place among the other boys. They moved together, each knowing their role in the daily routine that kept this place thriving. The scent of cooking fires mingled with the dew-laden grass as the sun began to peek over the towering walls that surrounded them.

The sky above was a canvas of pinks and oranges, the light dancing off the leaves of the trees that grew in an orderly fashion around the clearing. It was as if nature itself had laid out a path for them to follow, a silent guide in this otherwise mysterious world. The air was cool and fresh, hinting at the secrets the day would soon reveal.

Gally took a deep breath, feeling the tension that lingered just beneath the surface of everything. Everyone else seemed to ignore it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. He watched as the runners returned from their early morning laps, sweat shining on their skin, muscles flexing as they moved.

Suddenly, a low rumbling cut through the serenity of the glade. The boys paused in their tasks, heads tilting upwards as they listened. The sound grew louder, a grating intrusion in their peaceful world. It was the box, rising from the depths of the maze much sooner than expected. A flicker of unease passed over their faces. The box was here way too early.

"What is that?" Thomas asked. Newt being the only other person near him at the time dropped his tools and put his hand on his forehead.

"The box is coming back up but — it's way too early for them to be sending anyone…" He mumbled the last part. "But it can't be resources either… I think it's a person."

"What?" Thomas scoffed, walking over to where the song was coming from along with Newt and the rest of the glade. "Why would they send anyone if it's too early?"

“You’re asking me as if I know.” Newt folds his arms.

“Well, you’ve been here than me I would’ve thought-” Thomas paused when the sound grew louder, his voice was with a mix of curiosity and fear. The rumbling grew closer, the earth beneath their feet vibrating gently with each mechanical jolt.

The group gathered around the hole in the ground where the box normally emerged, their eyes fixed on the distant corner where the box would soon appear. The walls themselves seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation. The grinding noise grew louder, the metal beast rising from the earth with a shudder that sent a chill down Thomas's spine. The box emerged from the shadows.

Inside was…you? A girl?

Your eyes fluttered open, and you gasped for breath, the smells of metal and dust filling your nose as you took in the faces of the stunned group of boys. Your clothes were tattered, and your skin was riddled with dirt, but the look of shock on their faces wasn't for your appearance. It was because you were a girl, and you were sent way too early something they hadn't seen in a very, very long time.

The box shuddered to a halt. The door creaked open, revealing the cramped space you had been confined in. You backed into the corner, legs wobbly and unsteady from the journey. The group of boys parted, creating a pathway for Gally to walk through. Before he reached the box, Thomas stepped forward, hand outstretched to help you, but you shied away, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, voice quiet to not alarm you. “None of us will.”

Thomas stared, feeling as if he recognized you but…it wasn't clicking. You were so out of place here, a stark contrast to the world of boys he'd known since he woke up in the glade with no memory. His mind raced, trying to piece together why you were here, what this meant. The glade had always been a place of order, of understanding their roles and sticking to the rules. Now, everything was off.

The other boys whispered among themselves, a mix of awe and suspicion. Gally's eyes narrowed, a scowl etching itself onto his features. He was the first to break the silence, his voice harsh and accusatory. "What is she doing here?"

“Do you really have to act like that right now? She’s clearly scared.” Thomas grumbled, very fed up with Gally at this point.

Alby, the leader of the glade, pushed through the crowd, his eyes never leaving yours. "Looks like she's been through a lot. Get her to the med hut.” His tone was gentle but firm, a stark contrast to Gally's aggression.

As Thomas helped you out of the box and to the medical hut with Gally, Alby, and Newt following close behind, your hand trembled in his, and he couldn't help but wonder what horrors you had faced. The glade was a harsh place, but it was their home, and the arrival of an outsider, especially a girl, was unprecedented. The whispers grew louder, questions and theories flying around like leaves in a storm. The glade's rhythm was disrupted, and the unease grew stronger with each step you took away from the box.

Once inside the medical hut, the other boys hovered around, eager to help, but you remained guarded. The healer, a gentle-hearted boy named Clint, began to examine you. His eyes searched yours, looking for signs of recognition or understanding. But you were a blank slate, a girl with no name and no memory of how you got here, like the rest. The stitches on your forehead, a stark reminder of your journey, stood out against your skin.

Gally's shadow loomed outside the hut, his suspicion thick enough to be felt through the walls. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and his jaw was set. "Why the hell did they send a girl," he spat. "What is this, some sort of prank? Ever since you got here, stuff started to go wrong. And now a girl is here."

Thomas felt his temper rising. He had seen enough fear in those first moments when he arrived to understand how you must feel. "It doesn’t matter how or where she came from, we can't just leave her to fend for herself," he countered, his voice firm but not confrontational. "We need to help her, find out who she is."

Newt, who had been quietly observing from the side, spoke up. "It's never been like this before, man. Girls aren't sent here." His eyes searched yours, filled with a curiosity that matched Thomas's.

Alby sighs and takes a seat next to you. "Do you know your name or where…where you came from?"

You looked around the small, makeshift medical area. "I-I don't know," you stammered, your voice cracking. "I don't remember anything."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. The boys shared looks, a mix of concern and confusion. Alby's eyes softened. "We'll figure it out," he assured you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You're safe here."

"Thomas, Gally, watch her. I'm going to try and find something to get the dirt off of her. Make sure none of the other boys get to her. God knows what the hell they'll do. Newt, cmon." Alby sighs before walking out, Newt stopping next to Thomas.

“And make sure Gally doesn’t choke her out.” He whispers before finally leaving.

Thomas nods solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're okay." His voice is gentle, the first hint of kindness you've heard since you woke up in this strange place. You nod slightly, not trusting your voice to speak again. The other boys start to disperse, their whispers and stares still following you like a cloud of bees.

Once Alby is out of earshot, Gally turns to Thomas with a snarl. "I don't trust her," he says, his eyes flicking to you and then back to Thomas.

Thomas's grip tightens around the spear he's holding. "Gally, you're not — that's a stupid assumption to make, okay?"

"After you came here, shit started to spiral out of control and now we have a girl here? You think I'm stupid for assuming she could be a danger to us?!" Gally's voice raised slightly, your ears perking to his voice. His eyes landed on you, sighing and pulling Thomas away. "She doesn't know her name and she doesn't remember where she came from."

“You trusted me, didn’t you?”

“…That’s different.” Gally groans. “We don’t get sent girls.”

Thomas's gaze remained steady. "The point is we treat her like we would any newbie. Help her, keep her safe, and figure out what the hell is going on." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Gally looked skeptical, but nodded begrudgingly. "Fine. But if she causes any trouble…" He left the threat hanging in the air, his eyes dark.

"I'm cold…" you mumble. Gally's face contorted.

"It's not even cold outside, how are you cold-?" Gally began, but was cut off by Thomas' gentle nudge.

"Let's get her a blanket, okay?" Thomas offered with a kind smile. You nodded, feeling a small spark of gratitude for his understanding. He left the hut and returned moments later with a warm, woolen blanket that smelled faintly of the glade's flora. Wrapping it around you, he sat down opposite, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's your name?" he asked softly. The question was simple, but it held a world of meaning in this place where everything was a puzzle.

You searched your thoughts, but the fog was thick and heavy. "I-I don't know," you replied, your voice quivering. "They never told me."

Gally leaned against the wall. "Well, until you remember, your name is Greenie." His tone was not unkind, but it was firm, a reminder that until you had proven yourself, you were still a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

Thomas flinched at the term, but you just nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "Ignore him, okay? I'm gonna check on Alby to see where he is with the stuff. Gally, be nice to her." He shot a look at Gally before exiting the medical hut, leaving you and Gally in an awkward silence.

Gally took a deep breath, his features softening slightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be an ass," he began, his voice gruff. "It's just that we don't get girls here, and the last thing we need is for you to mess up our routine. No kidding, you’re surrounded by boys who haven’t seen a girl in years. Who knows what the hell they’d do to you.”

You nodded, not knowing how to respond. The walls of the hut felt as if they were closing in on you, suffocating you with their unspoken questions and accusations. Your eyes searched the room, landing on the shelves filled with medical supplies and makeshift weapons. You felt utterly out of place, a wildflower in a field of thorns.

Gally's gaze softened, sensing your distress. "Look, I'm not saying you're gonna cause trouble, but we just need to be careful, alright?" He paused, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "Everything changes now, and we need to stick together."

"…What's your name?" you ask. The question felt strange on your lips, foreign and yet familiar at the same time. Gally's eyes narrowed, his arms still crossed.

"I told you; I don't trust you so I'm not tellin'," he replied curtly. "Until then, I'm kinda like your superior or whatever."

You tilted your head, even pouting. "That guy before kept saying Gally and Thomas but I don't know which one is which," you whispered. Gally's stance didn't change, but something in his eyes did, a flicker of something that wasn't quite anger or suspicion anymore.

"Fine," he huffed. "It's Gally." He pointed to Thomas' empty spot. "And that's Thomas. He's the one who brought you in here."

You studied him, the name 'Gally' echoing faintly in your mind like the distant chime of a bell. "Thank you, Gally."

He nodded curtly, still keeping his guard up. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm being harsh, but we've got a system here. It keeps us all alive, and we can't have anyone messing with it. Do you understand?"

You nodded, the warmth of the blanket beginning to seep into your bones. "Yes, you’ve…said that. I won't cause any trouble," you promised, your voice small and hopeful.

Gally sighed, his stance relaxing slightly. "Good."

You twiddled your thumbs, now avoiding eye contact. You still wanted to talk, but you didn't know about what. So, you started to ramble.

"So…what is this place? And — hlong have you been in here?" you asked, trying to piece together the puzzle of this strange place. Gally's eyes searched the room, as if looking for answers in the shadows.

"Too long," he murmured, his voice distant. "A couple of years, I think." He paused, considering his words. "It's hard to keep track of time when every day is the same. And no one really knows what this place is.”

The silence that followed was filled with the unspoken understanding of lives lived in a perpetual cycle of fear and survival. You could see the weariness in Gally's eyes, the weight of his responsibilities etched into the lines of his face. "What's it like outside this place?" you whispered, the curiosity burning like a tiny flame in the pit of your stomach.

Gally's expression darkened. "We don’t know. Like I said, we’ve been stuck in here for years." he said bluntly. "You should be worrying about what it’s like in here. Especially for a girl." His voice held a warning, a clear boundary you were not to cross. Yet, the curiosity grew stronger, the need to understand this world that was now your home.

"You seem to care a lot about me being a girl in here. So like, are you gonna protect me or something? Since it's too much for a girl like me?" You asked Gally, your voice a mix of hope and challenge.

Gally looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. Was she flirting with him? No, he’s just crazy. "I'm not saying that."

"Well, you're acting like because I'm a girl, I can't survive in here so does that mean you're gonna protect me, yes or no?" You questioned, your voice a little stronger than before.

Gally sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, it's not like that. It's just…-"

"Then what is it?" You push your hair out of your face, causing Gally to choke on his words.

"I-uh, I just-" He stammers before stopping. "Look, Thomas is the one who'll be looking after you."

"But why can't you?" You press, feeling a strange need to understand the dynamics of this place.

Gally's eyes harden. "Because Thomas is the nicest one of us all. He's the one who can handle…this." He gestures at you, his voice laced with something you can't quite pinpoint.

"But he's not the one saying I won't make it because I'm a girl. It's you. You seem to care a lot." You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to understand the complex emotions that played across his face.

Gally's cheeks flushed slightly. "It's not that, it's just…" He trailed off, at a loss for words. "The glade isn't for the weak." His voice was gruff, but the way he said it suggested that he didn't believe you were weak, just different.

"Well, I'm not weak." you slide off the bed and walk over to him, the height difference between you stark. "I've survived whatever they put me through to get here. I can survive this."

Gally's jaw tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "You might think you're strong, but the glade and the maze…it's not like anything you've ever faced. I mean, you won’t be going into the maze, anyway. We're all here for a reason, and none of us are weak. But we're also all we've got." His words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the precariousness of your situation.

You stand tall, the blanket falling from your shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere. And I'll do whatever it takes to survive." Your voice is steady, the resolve in it unmistakable. Gally stares at you, his expression unreadable.

"I guess we'll see," he says finally, turning away. "For now, you need to rest. We'll figure out your role once you're feeling better." His words are dismissive, but the tension in his shoulders suggests he's still processing what you've said.

You scoff and walk back over to the bed, sitting down and turning away from him. Gally notices the blanket on the floor, wondering if he should pick it up and give it to you or if he should let you stay cold. He wanted to leave it, but - ugh, he couldn't. He picks the blanket up and storms over, putting it around your shoulders. "Here," he says gruffly, his face a mask of frustration. "Don't get too comfortable, Greenie. We've got work to do and I'm not carrying you around."

You look up at him, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of your mouth. "Thank you," you murmur, your eyes never leaving his. Gally clears his throat, uncomfortable under your gaze. He turns to leave, needing to get out of the room before he says something else stupid.

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dreamersofcolor · 1 month ago

Text

welcome to the dreamer's lounge! 💌

this is a self ship blog dedicated to uplifting & supporting people of color in the community! i'm your mod, @taibobo!

things we offer here:

an open ask box for advice, discussing topics related to navigating self shipping as a person of color, gushing about your f/os, and showing support to other POC in the community!

promoting POC self shippers through reblogging their posts and supporting their commissions and mutual aid

imagine requests & submissions tailored specifically towards self shippers of color!

events and raffles that include prizes like free art, letters from your f/o, fanfiction, moodboards/stimboards, + more!

this account is villain / problematic f/o friendly (within reason) and non-sharing friendly (as long as you're respectful and kind towards doubles), but i do ask that any self shippers who condone or engage in adult/minor shipping, RPF, or shipping between related parties please do not interact!

additional rules below:

ask box rules:

though i aim to be a listening ear for those who don't feel they have one in the community, particularly sensitive subjects (SA/CSA, self harm, suicide, incest, police brutality) are prohibited to be discussed in detail, as well as excessive venting about personal issues not related to the self ship community

i try to be understanding of most people's f/o sources (lord knows mine are not free from discourse), i do ask that anyone who self ships from DSMP or any similar minecraft SMP channels and/or from the game clinical trial do not gush about those characters in the inbox! i also won't be reblogging posts with these characters. this is just a personal boundary, i hope you understand :)

non-detailed discussions of 18+ / nsft topics are ok, as long as you let me know at the beginning of the message via a content warning so i can always tag it properly!

just a reminder that i am doing this as a service to uplift people, so hate towards me or any other person is not tolerated!

also, i am just one guy, so please be patient! i have a full-time job, work freelance, and have several other projects on the side, among other things... i'm a busy little guy, so this is just a little thing i wanted to do for fun!

imagine / prompt rules:

i will not be writing any 18+ / nsft imagines or similar posts, nor will i be posting anything containing explicit content! this rule may change or have some kind of exception in the future (maybe some kind of 'after dark' events?), but for now-- SFW imagines only!

no imagines discussing the previously mentioned sensitive subjects in detail. things like "your f/o comforting you during a depressive episode" is fine, but something like "your f/o saving you from an attempted SA" or "your f/o stopping you from an attempt" is not.

promotion rules

i won't be reblogging from any accounts that break my dni or any posts that break any of the rules i've discussed earlier. i'll try my best to support everyone i can outside of that, so if you need any assistance, please feel free to shoot me a message with your post and as long as the rules are followed, i'll reblog / add it to the queue!

tags

#from the clouds: mod post / text post

#user / anon tag: self explanatory, for organization

#mailbox: any ask box submission

#gush: for talking about your f/os and how much you love them!

#advice column: for advice

#discussions: for talking about frustrating parts/struggles of being a POC in self shipping spaces

#adult dreaming: for nsft / 18+ / sensitive topic asks

#our favorite dreamers: for promoting art and self ship posts in the community

#wish on a star: for promoting mutual aid

#rec: for resources

#userboxes

#ask games

#reblog games

#templates

#polls

#present from the lounge: requests / event prizes

#dream a little dream: imagines/prompts written by me

#shared dream: imagines/prompts written by others

#slumber party: raffles / events

(divider credit)

#self ship #self insert #yumeship #oc x canon #yume community #fictoromantic #fictosexual #from the clouds

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ghostlynightpanda · 17 days ago

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Hello! Could you make a reader x Dazai? Like, the reader is from the armed detective agency and is like, really kind, loving and doting for everyone (especially the younger ones). And like, really cares about Dazai, like, bringing home-cooked meals and always sharing them with him when realizing he doesn’t eat at the agency. Giving in to his whines, paying attention even when the rest is occupied with tasks. Not asking but lingering every time he talks about suicide. Joking around with him…you know, whatever makes you comfortable writing!!

Thank you 😊

Even You Can Bloom Here

snyopsis: Amidst the chaos of the Armed Detective Agency, your unwavering care for those around you begins to reach even Dazai Osamu, who, little by little, starts choosing your warmth over his loneliness.

content/warnings: ADA!Dazai x reader, fluff, 2.055 words

The Armed Detective Agency was always a strange mix of chaos and comfort. On any given day, the office might be filled with stacks of paperwork, half-shouted arguments, and at least one life-threatening mission waiting in someone's inbox.

But amid that chaos, you had found a rhythm of your own.

"Y/N-san! Y/N-san!!" Kenji's voice carried through the office as he bounded toward you, a wide grin on his face and a pot of soil in his hands. "Look! The cucumbers are sprouting!"

You turned from the tea you were preparing and crouched down beside him, brushing dirt off his overalls with a fond smile. "That's amazing, Kenji! You've got a real talent here."

"I used to grow rows of these back home," he beamed proudly. "Pa says nothing beats homegrown cucumbers."

"I think he's right," you said softly, already mentally adding cucumber salad to tonight's dinner plan. You couldn't bring him his family's farm, but you could bring this—a little piece of it, tucked into a rooftop garden you'd slowly been coaxing into life.

"Want me to help after work?" he asked cheerfully.

"Of course," you chuckled, giving his hair a playful ruffle. "We'll make a whole farm up there before you know it."

Just across the room, Atsushi was nervously eyeing a stack of files like they might bite him.

"Paperwork again?" you asked gently, sliding over beside him.

He jumped a little, then relaxed when he saw you. "I-I don't even know how to fill half of this out."

Without missing a beat, you reached for the nearest pen. "Good thing you know someone who does."

His shoulders relaxed, his usual anxious tension softening into something lighter, something almost close to contentment. These moments—helping, guiding, taking care—came as naturally to you as breathing.

A small movement caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.

Kyouka was curled up on the agency's battered couch, small and quiet, her sword resting by her side like a loyal shadow. Her eyes were starting to drift closed in that way children tried to fight sleep but never quite succeeded.

You excused yourself from Atsushi and grabbed the knitted blanket you always kept folded over the back of your chair. Quietly, you made your way over and draped it around her shoulders, tucking it in just enough to keep her warm without waking her. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

You had just returned to your desk when you noticed someone hadn't touched the lunch box you left them that morning. You didn't need to check twice to know who.

Dazai Osamu was stretched leaned back in hhis chair as usual, arms folded behind his head, humming some morbid old love song about the sea and slow, drifting death. His untouched bento sat on the table in front of him.

You wandered over and leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "That food's not going to eat itself."

Dazai cracked one eye open. "Ah, Y/N-chan. Come to serenade me as I slip into a poetic starvation-induced coma?"

"Not on my watch," you replied flatly, though there was warmth in your voice. "You don't get out of living that easy. Not while I'm around."

He smirked lazily, but he did sit up straight, eyeing the food with disinterest before glancing at you. "You always bring me food. Aren't you afraid I'll come to rely on you?"

"I want you to," you said softly, without missing a beat.

He looked at you then—really looked—and the air between you stilled for a fraction of a moment, something unspoken pressing just beneath the surface.

"…You're strange," he murmured, voice quieter now. "Too kind for this world."

You shrugged, smiling faintly. "That's what everyone here needs. Someone to be kind when the world forgets how."

Dazai didn't answer, but he took the chopsticks, poked into the rice, and took a bite.

Victory.

The Agency didn't just run on miracles or powers. It ran on people. On threads of care, cups of tea, warm food, and soft words given when they were needed most.

And you would be that warmth. For all of them.

Even for the one who joked too much about death and ate too little—especially for him.

Of course it didn't happen all at once.

With Dazai, nothing ever did—not the important things, anyway.

It started with the smallest shifts. Barely noticeable at first, unless you were really paying attention. Which, of course, you were.

One morning, you set a bento on the corner of his desk like always, expecting the usual dramatic sigh or sarcastic comment about how eating was "such a chore." Instead, he glanced at you, eyes sharp and observant, and said softly, almost like it slipped out by accident:

"…Thanks."

No flourish, no theatricality. Just that one, quiet word.

You didn't comment on it. Just smiled.

The next shift came on a rainy afternoon, when most of the Agency had scattered for errands or assignments. You found Dazai in his usual place on the couch, gazing out the window with a rare sort of stillness, bandaged hands loosely folded in his lap.

You didn't ask if he was okay. You didn't push. Instead, you sat on the other end of the couch with a book, folding your legs under you, giving him space but making sure he knew you were there.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence, the rain tapping steadily against the glass.

Then: "That book boring?"

You glanced at him. "Not really."

"Then why are you watching me instead of reading?"

You tilted your head, thoughtful. "I don't mind watching you."

His brow lifted at that, genuinely surprised. A breath of a laugh escaped him—not mocking, just… curious. "Hm. Dangerous thing to say to a man like me."

"I'll take my chances."

You both left it at that. But his posture shifted. He wasn't curled away from you anymore. He was… with you, in that small, quiet moment.

The rooftop garden became another of his habits.

Not every day—but often enough that you stopped being surprised when you'd come up for watering or weeding and find him already there, hands in his coat pockets, watching the little green shoots sway in the breeze.

"It's ridiculous," he said once, crouching next to a tomato plant, poking at the dirt. "Me. Caring whether a plant grows or not."

You knelt beside him. "It's not ridiculous. Life's hard. Things growing in spite of it—that's kind of beautiful, don't you think?"

For once, he didn't argue. He just looked at the small leaves and, for a heartbeat, looked like he wanted to believe you.

Sometimes he still joked about dying. Of course he did. That was his armor.

But it changed.

Instead of directing it outward—frustrating his coworkers or testing their patience—he saved it for you, like it was a private joke. A strange kind of trust.

Like the time you caught him standing by the office window at sunset.

"Looks like a good evening for a poetic demise, don't you think?"

You walked up beside him, bumping your shoulder lightly against his. "You jump, I'm going after you."

That got him to laugh—really laugh—something warm and genuine, the kind of laugh that carried no weight, no mask, no sharpness underneath it. Just real.

"You'd ruin the poetry of it," he teased.

"Good. I've always preferred prose anyway."

And for the first time, Dazai didn't walk away from the window. He stood next to you instead, watching the sky fade into violet with that soft, unreadable expression of his.

One evening, long after everyone else had gone home, you found him asleep on the office couch—not dramatically sprawled like usual, but curled in on himself, one arm over his eyes, the bandages on his wrist visible where his sleeve had slipped.

You didn't wake him. Instead, you fetched the softest blanket you could find and draped it over him gently, tucking it around his shoulders. Just as you started to move away, you felt fingers lightly catch your wrist.

"Stay," he murmured, barely audible.

No drama. No games.

Just a quiet, vulnerable word, like a crack in a well-worn mask.

You stayed.

It wasn't love yet—not quite.

But it was trust. And with Dazai, that was something rarer than any confession.

But the biggest change was yet to come.

For weeks, it had always been you finding him. You bringing the meals. You settling beside him on the couch. You being the constant in his drifting orbit.

But now he was changing his patterns.

It began with small things.

You caught him lingering near your desk more often, fiddling absently with pens or paperclips that didn't belong to him. He'd act like he was just wandering by, casting a careless glance at the reports you were working on, but the glance always shifted—always—to you.

"Hard at work, I see," he'd say lightly. But the way his eyes rested on you was different now. Softer. Focused.

He stopped ignoring the lunches you left for him.

Then, he started waiting for you.

One afternoon, you left the office to grab tea, only to find Dazai by the door when you returned, leaning lazily against the frame, as if he'd just happened to be there at that moment.

"You're following me now?" you teased, brushing past him with a smile.

"Hm." He fell into step beside you, hands in his pockets. "Maybe. Someone's got to make sure you don't get into trouble."

"That's rich, coming from you."

He smiled—not that wide, sharp grin he used with the others, but something smaller. Something real.

You didn't ask why he was suddenly gravitating toward you. You didn't need to. The answer hung in every little moment:

When he'd sit on the arm of your chair, close enough that your arms brushed, under the pretense of reading your reports over your shoulder.

When he'd appear beside you while you were watering the rooftop garden, not saying anything—just being there, watching your hands in the dirt like it was something soothing.

When he'd start offering you pieces of the sweets you brought for him, wordlessly holding one out between his fingers, waiting until you took it before eating his own.

It was after a mission—tense, exhausting, and too close for comfort—that the feeling crystallized between you.

The Agency was quiet that evening. You were on the rooftop, fingers brushing the leaves of a stubborn little basil plant, when you heard soft footsteps behind you.

Dazai didn't say anything at first. He just walked over and crouched beside you, elbows on his knees, gaze tracing the skyline beyond the fence.

"I thought you'd be here," he murmured.

Something about the way he said it—soft, certain—made your heart skip in your chest.

You glanced at him. "You came looking?"

For once, no teasing. No playful sarcasm. Just honesty:

"…Yeah."

Silence stretched out between you, but not uncomfortably.

Then, as if testing the weight of it, he spoke again—softer this time. "You… feel safe. To be around."

It wasn't much. It wasn't a confession. But it was everything coming from him.

Your throat tightened, but you kept your voice steady. "Good. I want you to feel that way. You deserve somewhere safe."

His hand shifted slightly on the concrete between you both, fingers brushing against yours—not holding, not yet, just there.

"I don't really know how to do this," he admitted quietly. "Letting people stay."

You turned your hand slightly, enough that your pinky curled against his.

"You don't have to know," you said gently. "Just don't push me away when you're scared. I'm not going anywhere."

For a moment, his eyes glimmered—not with his usual amusement or sharpness, but with something raw. Barely there. Barely spoken.

"…You're terrifying, you know that?" he whispered, voice hoarse with something that might've been laughter, might've been something else entirely.

"Why?"

"Because I think I'm starting to believe you."

And for once, Dazai didn't leave first. He stayed with you on that rooftop, shoulder brushing yours, quiet and steady as the sky darkened above your little garden.

Not out of obligation.

Not out of curiosity.

Out of choice.

Masterlist

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs Dazai #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu fluff #osamu dazai x reader

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unintentionalseductress · 8 months ago

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I don't know how your "thirsty weekends" works, but all I'm thinking about now is #16- glory hole with sylus.

That's exactly how Thirsty Weekends works! You pick a prompt and a character and inbox me!

And I had so much fun writing this! Hope you kinky kittens like reading it!

Glory hole

--------

There was a week left for your wedding with Sylus and you decided to surprise your fiance with something you knew would please him immensely; a private glory hole, featuring you.

With the help of a friend, you'd gotten naked and slipped into a narrow box with holes on opposite sides, one for your pussy, another for your mouth, and two on the sides so that your tits could be groped. A sign had been posted over the side of the box saying 'use me'. You waited on your hands and knees in anticipation, growing wetter by the second knowing he'd be home any minute.

Your core tightens when you hear the click of the door, then your grin falters as you hear other people's voices, your heart leaping into your chest when you recognize them. A mix of men, all of Sylus's acquaintances; Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne. Why were they here?

"Why is there a box in the middle of your living room? Did you get a pet?" Rafayel's voice fills the room and you panic, unsure what to do.

"It says 'use me' on the side of the box." Zayne's footsteps can be heard approaching the box and your eyes widen as you try to think what to do.

"Sylus you didn't plan something did you? Like some sort of final wild party before getting hitched?" You hear Xavier ask in disbelief. Your eyes are glued to the limited view from the holes in the side of the box and you recognize Sylus's expensive shoes as he approaches, then dips a hand in through the side, finding your breast and squeezing.

"It appears it's a final present before I say goodbye to my bachelorhood gentleman," Sylus says smoothly as he withdraws his hand and you feel your senses float out of your body, leaving you weak. What was going to happen now?

"Enjoy yourselves."

Before you can comprehend what's happening a cock is shoved into the hole near your mouth. It was a nice organ, but you hesitate, then hear the voices outside. "Nothing's happening Sylus!"

You weigh your options. You could end this right now and have everyone see you like this. But also...something about the anonymity appealed to you. You give a tentative lick to the cock before taking it into your mouth. The action causes the person to let out a groan and the group jeers. "Is the whore in the box good Rafayel?"

You let out a squeak of surprise as hands come in from both sides and roughly grab your boobs, squeezing and pulling at your nipples. Stuck and unable to turn in the narrow space, you're helpless to do anything except take it. You moan against the meat in your mouth as another hand enters the back hole, a finger tracing your folds before it pushes into your cunt, fingering you from behind.

The sudden assault on your body brought a powerful turn on that your weren't expecting. They had no idea who was in here and the thought of being used was filling your brain with a haze of sexual need. Rafayel suddenly withdraws and another cock, longer and thicker this time, enters the glory hole. You suck it without hesitation and the men whistle.

"Damn Zayne, the way your eyes rolled I thought she sucked the soul from your body!"

You moan and whine and whimper as they squeeze and abuse every inch of your body that they could reach through the holes then gasp as you hear Sylus ask, "Who wants the honor of fucking her first?"

You hear condom wrappers being ripped open and before you could think, a cock starts to penetrate you from behind, splitting you open around it's covered girth. You let out a needy groan and the men laugh.

"Sounds like she's having a good time!" You wished you could rub your clit as you were getting fucked but the box was too narrow for you to reach so you settle for having your nipples tweaked and pulled. Another cock enters the glory hole and you obediently take it into your mouth, bobbing your head and letting your pussy be abused to their liking. You can feel whoever is using you getting close to their climax, then feel their cock twitch and shoot it's load, caught by the condom before it's withdrawn from your slick depths.

You barely had time to recover when another cock pushes in, and you feel your senses heighten because you recognize this one; it's unmistakably Sylus, and his cock adjusts inside you to graze against your g spot with each stroke. Your voice now becomes a pathetic string of moans as he gets your sweet spot each time. In your sensitized state, you cum immediately, a loud keening sound ripping from your throat and echoing through the box as you climax. There's cheering for Sylus as he withdraws.

You take two more cocks after this, and service everyone for a few more rounds before all the men decide they've had their fill. With sighs of satisfaction, they leave, thanking Sylus for the evening's entertainment and wishing his good luck with his wedding.

You lay there, covered in sweat, your pussy sloppy from being used so many times, wondering if you could somehow escape out of the box now that everyone had left, then yelp in surprise as the panel on the side is lifted up, and Sylus smirks down at you. Your face turns red as he assesses you before slowly lifting you out of your confines, settling down on the sofa with you on his lap.

"Did you have fun sweetie?" he asks, chuckling as you hide your face in his neck.

"You knew it was me?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you stop it then?"

"Did you not like it?"

"I...I did..."

"Then what's the problem?" Sylus presses a kiss to your head. "My sweet bride, do you think I was unaware of your fantasy to be used as a glory hole? I thought it would be best for you to get it out of your system before you officially become my wife. And you just made it so easy tonight."

He laughs heartily as you punch his arm, your face turning a brilliant shade of crimson before kissing you senseless.

---

I am horny and need an immediate gangbang from all of them now *hides face*

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yuriisclumsy · 9 months ago

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hii!! can I request cale with a s/o who's high on anaesthesia? like they see cale for the first time, and they're already rambling about how pretty he is– only to find out they're married!! to him!! she tells everyone (who is willing to listen) about her pretty husband and how she's lucky to have him^^ thank youu

We’re…Married?

[Authors Note]: Hi guys! I'm back into making Cale x Reader request! At least for the ones I have on my inbox, until I get out of the authors block I have for my Genshin series. PS. This request is back from July...

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 735

»»►AWWWEE this is adorable. I want to keep it in a box and bury it 7 feet underneath.

»»►Okay, for this, I want it to stay in the fantasy setting since I don’t really like writing modern AUs. So, there will be some kind of herb that is used that has the same effect as anesthesia.

»»►As for why she had to take it. Let us say she had to get surgery for a broken bone she fractured because she ran and fell off a hill. Don’t ask me how this happened, because I don’t know either.

The sun’s rays shine through curtains, bringing light to the already dim room. They softly hit the face of a red-head that had fallen asleep on a chair instead of his warm bed.

The reason he hadn’t slept in his bed was for one small, lovable–his words not mine–dork he had grown to love; his wife: You.

And the only red-head who was insane enough to marry you was none other than Cale Hanituse.

Cale stared at your resting face with a neutral face. What else could he do, other than wait for his lovely wife to wake up?

Unbelievable… The moment I look away, she’s gone and clumsily stumbled down a mountain and off a cliff. Honestly, when will I get some rest from this girl? the man thought as he closed his eyes, getting irked at the memory of you falling off the cliff for the third time.

It was getting repetitive…and annoying.

“Hmmgh…” the sound of sheets shuffling made him open his eyes to see the movement.

“[Name]?” asked Cale. “Are you awake?” He gently leaned towards you to check. His hand moved away the messy hair on your forehead to get a better look. You slowly open your eyelids and see a handsome young man touching you.

“You’re awake… Took you long enough,” Cale said, still combing your hair straight.

You pushed his hand away. “..Don’T tOucH mE…I haVe a HusBaND…” you say with a growly voice.

Clearly, the herb that was used to sedate you was still in your system.

“[Name], stop. You’re still delirious and can’t differentiate what-for-what,” Cale tried to reason with you. But everyone knows that you can’t debate with someone that truly isn’t here.

“nO! yUO aRe An ImPOsTeR..!” You semi-yelled at him. “WhErE iS my HusBanD, yOu tHieF!”

Cale sighted at your idiocy. He found the way you argued rather adorable... Ahh, that’s beside the point!

“[Name],” he grabbed you by the shoulders to ground you as you squirmed, “I am your husband.”

“Wu-huh?” Your anger was now replaced with confusion and a stupid expression. “Whut?”

“I’m your husband,” Cale repeated. “The man you swore to be with the rest of your life, remember?”

“HUuuhhh??” The stupid expression you wore was now filled with reds. “We’Re…mArRieD?”

“Yes. Look,” he made you look at both your hands that had the wedding bands. “See? Married. For all of eternity.”

“..ThAt’S A LooOoNg tIMe…”

“I know,” Cale nodded at your comment, “do you…like the sound of that?” He shouldn't be asking this, in case the answer he hears isn't something he wanted to hear from you, but he had to. Curiosity dug deep within his heart.

You remained silent. This only printed Cale to regret his question. He’ll need to live with this for the rest of his life now.

“You don’t have to answer tha—”

“I do…”

Cale’s eyes widened. “What was that? Sorry, I couldn’t hear…” He had to make sure he heard right.

“I sAid…” you grabbed him by either side of his face and brought him closer to your face, “I. DO.”

He stared at you for a second before smiling, and then laughing at your antics. “Hehehe… I get, I get it…” Cale grabbed both your arms. “You need rest. Especially after the surgery on your left arm.”

“Surgery…?” You slowly ask, then your gaze follows his gaze at the arm he mentioned and loudly gasp, “WHAT IS THIS?”

There was a cast on the arm he said there was a surgery for.

Cale looked a bit confused. “Did you not realize there was a cast on your arm? [Name], how unaware can you be?” he flicked your forehead.

“OW–”

“Now, down you go. Off to the land of dreams,” he helped you get comfy in bed. “I’ll wake you up when dinner breakfast is ready, it’s still early in the morning.”

“Kay…” you yawned, ready to go back to the dream you left. “Night…”

“Good night…” Cale got back to lay in the chair he had slept all night in.

He snatched the blanket that had fallen off of him, and wrapped himself with it. As he was ready to take a quick nap before breakfast, he heard your voice creep up in the silence.

“..Cale…?”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” you say before falling asleep.

“...” he looked at your peaceful face and cracked a small smile, he whispered, “I love you too…”

Fin

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63, @potterhead-whovian-117, @margieee194, @zenix108, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @potterhead-whovian-117, @alithurism, @matchalyne, @minteaspoon, @dontknowhowtousethis, @valacz29, @rainalovesouya, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @lablog5, @htshbtcp, @purposefulwhale, @leylnnn, @ixchelhernandez4, @minteaspoon, @mx-unreality, @ntcc2605, @lapislasulat, @lunavixia, @thxmiss, @sumariii. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family updates. Back to Lout Of Count's Family Master-List

Master-List

#cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #lout of the count's family x reader #reader input #x reader #manhwa x reader #totcf #manhwa #manhwa fanfic #reader insert

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skyguytoast · 2 months ago

Text

HEADCANONS: HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X FIRST ROLE ACTRESS! READER

WARNING: none just cuteness WORDS: 1.1k A/N: Hello my loves!!! It’s been a little while since I posted a headcanon, but in a slightly belated celebration of Hayden’s birthday, I put together some soft and sparkly ideas about what it would be like to have him as your coworker on your very first acting job 🎬I hope you enjoy it lots!! 💕 Likes, comments, and reblogs truly make my day and keep me inspired to keep writing 🌈📩 Alsooo~ don’t be shy! My inbox is always open for requests and ideas 💌🧸 I love love love hearing from you 💭 DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune

When you got the chance to audition for a new Star Wars series focused on Darth Vader training a Sith apprentice while struggling under Palpatine’s control, you didn’t just prepare—you obsessed. The prequels were your favorite, and Anakin had always been your soft spot. So when the opportunity came to not only be part of Star Wars but possibly act with Hayden Christensen, it felt like your entire childhood lining up with your dreams.

The audition day was pure nerves. You sat stiff in the waiting area, trying to remember every calming technique you’d ever read about—breathing exercises, visualizations, even tapping your fingertips to distract yourself. When your name was finally called, your heart was pounding, but you slipped into character and let go. The moment you walked out, you couldn’t recall a single line. But somehow, you knew—you’d given it your all.

A few days later, you got the email for a chemistry read with Hayden. You actually screamed. Loud. Into your pillow. When he walked into the room, tall and calm and giving that quiet smile to everyone, even the PA refilling water bottles, your heart jumped. “I’m Hayden,” he said, stepping toward you, his voice warm. “You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded, cheeks warm, slipping your hand into his. His grip was firm, gentle—steady. You felt your nerves ease instantly.

After landing the role, you dove into training before scripts even arrived. Your first lightsaber sessions were hilariously bad. You smacked your own head. Twice. But you kept showing up, bruises and all. Two months in, Hayden joined you. He watched your movements with kind eyes, then asked, “So, how much of a Sith are you now?” You laughed, slightly out of breath. “I’ve got the bruises, so... halfway there?” He chuckled. “That’s more than most.”

Training with him quickly became your favorite part of the day. He was patient, goofy, and shockingly down-to-earth. He showed you his signature spin move—the fast back-swing from Revenge of the Sith. When he stood behind you, gently guiding your hands with his, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies. You tried it. And failed. Three times. On the third, you tripped over his boot and both of you hit the mat. The silence was broken by his laugh—loud and genuine. He wrapped an arm around you as you sat up, breathless. “You’ll get it,” he grinned. “And we’ll make it look epic.”

You shared the same dressing area for hair and makeup—though his call time was always hours before yours. Vader’s scars took time. You’d come in with a coffee in hand and find him half-asleep in the makeup chair, prosthetics half-done, mumbling, “Mornin’... you brought the good coffee?” You always did.

Your Sith apprentice costume was sleek, practical, with tight black pants, armored vest, and a flowing cape. Meanwhile, Hayden’s Vader suit was brutal—hot, stiff, and heavy. So you made it your mission to help. Juice boxes, water bottles, a mini fan in your tote—you were his unofficial handler. “You’re gonna owe me a coffee sponsorship, deal?” you teased once, holding a straw up to his helmet. “Deal,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind the mask.

One day, you begged him to let you try on the Vader helmet. “Just for a second, please?” He looked hesitant. “It’s heavier than it looks.” You waved him off and slipped it on—and nearly tipped over. “Oh my god,” you gasped, staggering under the weight. Hayden jumped forward, steadying you with both hands. “Told you,” he said with a grin. “Maybe you should listen to me next time.” You gave him a sheepish thumbs-up from inside the massive helmet.

After every take—every single one—Hayden would find you and say something kind. “You crushed that,” or “Your delivery was perfect.” Even if the scene was only a few seconds. It made you feel seen. Like you belonged. And that mattered.

Filming days were long, especially on location. Every night, you and Hayden would end up in one of your trailers or hotel rooms, sharing takeout and debriefing. Sometimes you’d learn about the place you were filming in—local food, weird trivia. Sometimes you just laughed until your stomach hurt. If there wasn’t an early call, you shared a beer or a glass of wine, always with music in the background and feet propped up.

During a grueling quarry shoot, you finished your scene and curled up on a mattress in the shade. When you woke up, Hayden was crouched nearby, trying (and failing) to quietly eat a bag of chips. His eyes went wide when he saw you stirring, chip halfway in his mouth. You both stared. Then burst out laughing. “Sorry,” he mumbled with cheeks full. “I got hungry.”

On crew buses between sets, it became an unspoken rule: your seat was beside his. He’d open his arms without a word, letting you rest your head against his chest. If he was tired too, he’d rest his cheek on top of your head. Sometimes you woke up still leaning on him, the world outside flying by.

You developed a superpower: falling asleep anywhere. Under tables, on chairs, even leaning against prop crates. One day Hayden found you curled up beneath the main set of Vader’s Fortress. “She’s doing her Sith meditation,” he joked to a crew member. But a few days later, you caught him asleep on the floor next to you, head on your arm, you smiled.

You and Hayden developed a running bit where every time you messed up a take, he’d dramatically whisper, “You’ve failed me for the last time,” in his Vader voice. It always made you laugh too hard to stay embarrassed. The crew started catching on, and even the director played along once with, “Cut. And... Vader disapproves.”

During one of your first big duel scenes, you swung too hard and knocked Hayden’s saber clean out of his hand. The set went dead silent until he looked at you, deadpan. “That was... impressive. Terrifying, but impressive.” From that day on, he jokingly called you “the real Chosen One.”

At night, sometimes you’d set up a little laptop and watch old Star Wars films together. You had questions about the lore, and Hayden loved nerding out with you, explaining little behind-the-scenes stories. “You know that scene on Mustafar? I had to wear red-yellow contact lenses and a wig. That heat was no joke.” You’d grin, eyes wide. “And now you’re back—still surviving lava planets.”

On the final day, you tried to keep it together. Everyone was emotional, but you felt it heavier than most—it had been your first real job, and Hayden had been such a grounding presence. After your last take, he walked over, hugged you tight, and whispered, “You’re a star, Y/N. You made this story better.” Later that night, he handed you a small gift: a silver pendant shaped like a tiny lightsaber. “To remind you where your journey began.”

TAG LIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld @throughparisallthroughrome

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x female reader #hayden christensen headcanons #hayden christensen headcanon #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen fluff

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