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after-witch · 25 days

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Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]

Title: Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]

Synopsis: You've made a lot of mistakes in Hell, but this one has to be the worst.

Birthday fic for @absolute-flaming-trash who is absolutely awesome!

word count: 1899ish

notes: yandere, abuse, obsessive behavior, humiliation, I'm joining the 'alastor yanks reader by a chain' club

Hell was full of mistakes, and you figured that yours amounted to a sizable chunk--particularly since meeting Alastor. Of the countless mistakes within that particular bucket, there were at least seven distinct mistakes that led you to this very moment.

One. It was a mistake to thank Alastor for holding the door open for you, the day you entered some run-down market in search of a book. Your voice had been surprised and sweet and ever-so-thankful.

Two. It was a mistake to let him strike up a conversation with you a few minutes later, and not pay attention to the horrified looks that even the most hardened patrons in the shop gave you.

Three. It was a mistake, later on, to think he was your friend; to believe that the shared meals, the late night discussions about music and books and little topics you’d forgotten you enjoyed, were a sign of pleasant companionship.

Four. It was a mistake to sell your soul to Alastor, after his honeyed offers of protection from the seedier elements of Hell, his casual assurance that your friendship would go unaltered.

Five. It was a mistake to move into the Hotel when Alastor asked, and not think there was some ulterior motive behind it all.

Six. It was a mistake to think Alastor was actually kind, just because he was helping Charlie with her hotel, and seemingly protected those within it.

Seven. It was a mistake to, on this day, ask Alastor if he would give your soul back, now that you’d decided to aim for heaven. Because you were friends, and he cared about you, and therefore, he should want what’s best for you--which is to get (you pardon yourself the phrase) the hell out of Hell.

Every one of these seven mistakes--the last, you must admit, being the most significant--led you to here.

To you, trembling on the floor, the tangy copper of blood in your mouth from where your teeth rattled against the end of your tongue when Alastor’s palpable anger made your knees literally buckle.

“I… I don’t understand,” you spit out, voice trembling as much as your body. “I thought--I thought you…” The words don’t need to be spoken for Alastor to know them.

I thought you liked me, I thought you were my friend, I thought you would be happy to do it.

“You thought what, exactly, my dear?”

A low electric current buzzed in the air, making the lights flicker once, twice, and again before he continued.

“That I would simply let you go?” He laughed, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. It was full of mockery and something else, something metal and cold.

Your stomach squirmed awfully. It was not a feeling you’d ever experienced around Alastor, despite some other’s trepidation around him. He’d never given you a reason to feel that way.

Until today.

Until you asked Alastor to let your soul go, and the room seemed to fizz with electrical interference that left the lights sparking and

Your eyes went wide. And your brain, stupid thing that it was, pieced things together that you had been all too naively eager to ignore until now.

The stories of Alastor’s past that you’d heard in snatches and dismissed as jealous fantasy, probably all deriving from Vox and his ilk. The way people who knew Alastor from before his sabbatical tended to steer as clear of him as possible.

Or how Alastor always insisted you try the things he liked--clothes he left in your room (even before you told him where you lived, before the Hotel); music he insisted you’d admire more than your current collection of alt-rock CDs; foods that were tastier, he said, than your favorites.

“I didn’t think--” The words stuck to your mouth until you forced them out. “I didn’t think you’d be mad that I wanted to get better, repent and--and get out of here.”

Alastor, despite his smile, did not look impressed.

You didn’t have time to flinch as he swung his microphone down and out, pressing it against your throat.

“Don’t act surprised now. After all,” The microphone dug into the flesh of your neck, lifting your chin until you were looking at him through blurs of oncoming tears. He continued, voice softer, missing most of its usual radio sound. “You made me like this.”

You wanted to shake your head, but the microphone kept you only capable of looking up and straight at him. His smile made you sick.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice light, but not quite naive anymore; you didn’t fully believe the words now, and your voice wavered.

Even if you didn’t mean to do anything to draw the attention of the radio demon, that didn’t mean Alastor wasn’t clearly--wasn’t clearly… affected by you. In some way that you didn’t understand; moreover, you didn’t want to understand it.

What you thought had been a surprising friendship made in the bowels of hell was something else entirely, and you hated the newfound knowledge.

Whatever it was that Alastor actually felt for you, it was dark and awful, like sprinkles of mold you find underneath the bathroom sink. Damp and rotting and unwanted.

“You,” he said, pressing the microphone harder into your throat for emphasis, “have been quite the busy bee when it comes to me, my dear.” He sighed in a way you’d heard him do a hundred times before. But now it feels wrong; sticky, oozing. “I’d never given much thought to… certain endeavors before you. And now I find myself distracted.”

His neck turned again, cracking, and a song began to play from somewhere.

“Distracted?” You asked, feeling sicker and sicker.

“Oh, yes,” he answered, dragging out the word. “Quite unlike me, if I must admit it. And yet there’s something about you that’s been making me…”

He didn’t finish. The song got louder, mingling in with the ambience of the room. It was almost soft and wistful, except for the lyrics that made your skin feel cold, repeating on a loop.

And you’re mine… mine… mine…

“And you thought…” His voice continued, each word punctuated by an awful radio crackle that made goosebumps blossom up your arms. “That you would get to simply leave me after all I’ve put into you?”

All he’s put into you.

The dresses, the food, the guidance on what to listen to and how to dance; who to talk to and who to avoid. Advice from a friend, you thought. Advice from someone stronger and maybe smarter.

“Well,” he said, almost cheery now, pulling the microphone away from your sore and probably bruising throat. “I trust you’ve learned your lesson and we can avoid this…” A crackle, short and low. “Unpleasantness in the future.”

You should have said that yes, you learned your lesson; yes, you won’t ask again. But you didn’t. Instead you swallowed hard, feeling the ache from where his microphone pressed in, and added an eighth mistake to your list.

“We can avoid it if you release me from my contract--if you give me back my soul.”

“Well,” he repeated. And this time, his voice was muffled by a brief, shrieking radio frequency. “Perhaps a reminder is in order.”

The reminder came with cold metal choking your throat; a vivid green chain led straight from your imprisoned neck to Alastor’s hand.

One trembling hand came up to feel the collar. It was real. It was there. And the chain, too, was solid and unbreakable.

It was a shocking sight.

You’d seen the chains of other owned souls before. Angel’s, in particular, when you’d accidentally witnessed an argument between him and Valentino. But there had never been a singular thought given to the fact that you, too, must have had chains. Alastor never showed them to you and until now, had never seen fit to remind you about your lack of freedom.

Until today.

Your surprise and fear made you stupid, and you tried to yank yourself away from him; he held fast to the chain and began to wind it around his hand, forcing you to look upwards, speaking all the while.

“You are never to ask me to release your contract again. And you are certainly never to even entertain the silly notion of leaving me, now or in the future. Do you understand?”

An awful, slimy feeling overtook your gut. He owned you, and he had owned you for some time. You just had been closing your eyes to that reality.

A reality that was now choking you.

“Well?”

You nodded. You didn’t think you could speak, not now. Not to him.

But it wasn’t good enough. He yanked on the chain, choking you.

“I don’t believe I heard you, dear.”

“Yes.” The word was spoken through gritted teeth. It tasted like tears.

“Yes what?” The grin on his smile widened deceptively as he yanked against the chain, jerking your head upward. It hurt inside and out.

It was so unfair, that your heart could hurt like this, even after you were dead.

“Yes, sir.”

That should have been the end of it. He should have let go of the chain and let you slink off in fear and shame, off to sob in your bedroom over the sudden turn of events.

Instead, he leaned down, and for a moment, his eyes glowed in a painful flash.

“You can do better than that, my dear, can’t you, to the person that owns your very soul?”

His hand wrapped around the chain, shortening it even further as he leaned in so close you could smell the rot around him. But it didn’t matter that you wanted to pull away from it, because he held you--literally, held the chains that kept you bound to him. Forever.

Yes, he owned your soul. He owned you.

“Yes, boss?” you murmured, copying what Husker sometimes said; you were unable to look at him anymore as humiliated, hot tears spilled down your cheeks.

In an instant, the chain was gone, and you fell to the ground with a clumsy thud. Your chin hit the hard floor before you could brace yourself with your hands.

“Wonderful,” he said, praising, almost cooing. His neck cracked to the side and you imagined his bones shifting in impossible ways to achieve it. “I suppose I should remind you who you belong to when you get out of sorts like this, my dear.” His smile widened. “A healthy reminder now and then is good for the soul!”

He laughed. Whether he thought it was a joke or not was unclear.

“Although, I hope I won’t have to remind you too soon. I do so enjoy your company more when you’re not being…” He waved his hand in the air, glancing up at the ceiling for effect. “Stubborn.” His eyes darted to you, accompanied by the faint sound of a radio hum. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you breathed out without hesitation, unable to stop shaking from your position on the floor.

“Good girl,” he said, patting the air above your head. You watched his footsteps until he paused at the threshold of the door. You heard his neck snap as he turned it back around--you didn’t dare look up to see.

“Don’t forget to tidy up before dinner. I’ve left a dress in your bedroom that I’m sure will look lovely on you.”

#yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere #alastor x reader #afterwitch writes #/

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

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Part 2

Robin Buckley was unfortunately well-aware of Steve Harrington, long before they started working together. He had been the worst kind of popular in high school, the completely effortless kind. And Robin was not looking forward to working with him.

Sure, he had been better than the other jock dickheads Robin was forced to share space with, but that probably had more to do with his weird Eddie Munson friendship than anything else. Being friends with the town freak kind of forced you to be more accepting. Or in Steve’s case, force you to punch anyone who insulted him in the face.

And while that was all nice and chivlirous or whatever it didn’t stop the fact that Steve Harringinton was a complete ass who slept with dozens of girls and threw them away immmeidtly after. There was no way that a guy like that wasn’t a dick.

And after their first shift working together, Robin was convinced that she had been absolutely right. He was a total slouch at work, spending most of his time failing at flirting with girls or yapping to his friends on the phone in the back. He was a complete diva about his hair, and their manager had given him three reprimands in the span of four hours for not wearing the dumb hat. And he was always trying to get out of work early.

After their first week together Robin was ready to strangle him. The only thing she’d give him is that he accepted being assigned indefinite bathroom cleaning duty with grace, otherwise she probably would have killed him and hid the body in the freezer by now.

Though he was really trying to expedite the process over here.

It was another annoying, Harrington filled day, only for him to once again try and leave early.

But before he could get to the door, Robin was dragging him back behind the counter, hissing, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We have inventory tonight.”

She had expected him to whine in response or maybe say something dickish that she could kick him in the shin for, but he just looked horrified.

“Tonight? B-But it won’t take that long right? Like just a few minutes?”

“Try a few hours. They’re making us count the spoons man. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

His eyes got wider with each word, and for a split second Robin was actually worried that he was about to have a panic attack. That was until he opened his mouth again, “I-okay. Look dude, I really can’t do this tonight. I have a thing that I need to go to. But I can make it up to you! Or I can come in tomorrow morning-”

“The manager is going to look at it tomorrow morning,” Robin interrupted, arms crossed and brow twitching, “What is so damn important that it can’t wait till tomorrowow?”

“Does that matter?” Steve asked, oddly defensive for someone who was literally begging, “I just need to leave. But I can make it up to you! I’ll even pay you. You can have all the tips for the week and if that’s not enough then I’ll do the trash for three-no four days. I’ll do anything. Please?”

He actually looked like he was on the edge of tears and Robin had to begrudgingly admit that the puppy eyes were working on her. Christ, she was too good of a person.

She sighed, “Trash duty for two weeks, and for the week I get the tips I expect you to be extra charming. We clear?”

“Yes! Totally fair!” Steve was already speed walking backwards to the door, and those misty eyes had suddenly completely disappeared. Robin was started to think that she just got played and big time, “Best co-worker ever! Really couldn’t ask for better-”

“Just fucking go.” Robin said as she shooed him off, near snorting when Steve actually started running out of the mall.

She looked back behind the counter, groaning when she realized that his trash promise apparently started tomorrow. Fucking dick. She’d take out the trash, do inventroy alone, and then curse the Harrington name.

She started to lug the disgusting trash bags full of soupy ice cream through the backdoor, shivering a little in the cold. The dumpster was right next to the almost empty parking lot, everyone gone except one long running van.

Robin stopped, realziing that two people were making out infront of it, and one of them just so happened to still be wearing his cutsy uniform while he shoved his tongue down the stranger’s throat. Robin stared at them, barely concealed by the dumpster as her blood boiled.

Steve ditched her to make-out with some chick in the parking lot? Oh hell no. He was not getting away with this. She was just about to come out of her hiding spot to start tearing into him when she heard Steve giggle. Honest to god giggle.

He was standing in front of the girl, obscuring her face while he played with a lock of her hair, “Aw, don’t pout. I didn’t make the schedule. Besides, I already said I’d make it up to you in any way you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes, wondering if she should include warning the poor girl that whatever two week anniversary they were celebrating would definitely be their last when she called him out.

“I just didn’t expect to spend most of our four year anniversary eating cake in bed alone,” The stranger answered, their voice instantly recongnizble, “I was supposed to be eating you.”

That wasn’t a chick, that was Eddie.

Robin gasped, a hand going over her mouth. She had heard that voice many times, usually yelling about comforimity while standing on a lunch table. But that didn’t make sense! It couldn’t be-

But then Eddie was spinning them around, crowding Steve against the hood of his car, his signature DIO vest on full display while he ploundered Steve’s mouth, Steve laughing into it all the while.

Robin felt like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched them. She was actually witnessing Steve Harrington happily shoving his tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat.

Steve pulled away first, holding Eddie back with a hand to his chest, still giggling, “God, that was so lame. Even for you.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Steve easily agreed, “And I’ll love it even more when we’re home and in bed. Then we can really start celebrating.”

That was more than enough for Eddie. He dragged Steve off of the hood before opening the passenger side door for him, stealing one more kiss before running over to the driver’s side.

Robin watched as they settled into the van, hands immediately clasped back together over the centerconsole. But it didn’t stop there. No, Steve was licking his lips and looking down muttering something to Eddie that she couldn’t hear. But she could guess, especially when his head suddenly dissapeared right before they drove off.

Robin stayed hidden behind the dumpster, still trying to comprehend what she’d just seen. She just watched King Steve make out with the resident freak, and maybe start the beginnings of road head, all while giggling and laughing about their fucking anniversy.

What. The. Fuck.

From an unpublished chapter of this fic

#secret relationship steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #this is straight from my childhood au fic for 85 #might do a part 2 here though #because the fic is NOWHERE near this part but it's technically written #stranger things

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maidragoste · 5 months

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was your meme w the daemon au about the oneshot where she married him to avoid marrying viserys? because i would LOVE to know how people reacted when daemon (i assume it would be daemon) sends a message to viserys - 🩵

Hi Anon 💖, sorry for the delay in responding but I was actually writing something totally different but I saw your question and Viserys' reaction came to mind so I started writing haha

btw, I thought this would be shorter

I hope you enjoy it 🥰🥰💖💖

I recommend people read "The Decision" first to better understand this

At first, when barely an hour had passed since you had disappeared on the back of your dragon, your family had not worried, thinking that perhaps you had lost track of time while flying. It wouldn't be the first time that happens. But then it got dark and you still didn't show up. The worst thing was that Viserys wanted to dine with you in his chambers. Corlys excused your absence by sending your maid to tell the King that you were feeling ill. Rhaenys was furious with her husband for not telling Viserys that you were missing, if the king asked for it then everyone would look for you but Corlys didn't seem to care about your safety, he seemed more worried that Viserys would think that you had escaped to avoid marrying him. Of course, your father couldn't hide your absence for long. Somehow Otto Hightower had found out about your disappearance and reported it to the king.

The next day the entire council was gathered and the king's fury at having been kept secret from the disappearance of his fiancée was evident. Rhaenyra listened worriedly as her father asked Lord Velaryon for explanations. She feared that you had made a drastic decision to run away, her heart ached just thinking that you had left without saying goodbye first.

Corlys didn't even have the chance to excuse himself and make up some story about actually knowing your whereabouts when a maester interrupted the room. The Grand Master was already about to scold him when the youngest reported that a letter had arrived with the seal of House Targaryen. Viserys instantly ordered the parchment to be given to him, knowing that it must be a letter from his brother.

Everyone watched in silence as the king's face became redder and redder as he read the parchment. “Daemon took her as his second wife,” he announced as he twisted the letter into a bun in annoyance.

Rhaenyra felt her heart skip a beat and had to hold onto the table to keep from losing her balance. You were supposed to run away or find a way to break off the engagement, not get married. The worst thing is that you married her uncle. It was unfair that he could have you but she couldn't. If only she had been brave enough to tell you how she felt but she was a coward and she settled for your friendship. She settled for pretending that you were hers every time the two of you walked hand in hand through the hallways or when she exchanged her rings with yours as if it were some declaration of love.

“Poor Lady Y/n, Prince Daemon surely took advantage of her,” said the king's hand with mock regret. Corlys was not blind like Viserys so he could see how Otto Hightower was forcing himself not to smile. He should be the only attempt with this situation, now with you out of the way he could push his daughter Alicent again so that she could get the king's attention and thus make her queen.

“You can annul their marriage,” said the princess, drawing everyone's attention to the obvious desperation and pain in her voice. Years later, different versions of the reason for Rhaenyra's despair circulated in history books. Some would say it was because she was in love with her uncle. Others would say that you were actually the owner of her affections.

“The king can no longer marry Lady Y/n. Not now that Prince Daemon…”Lyonel Strong trailed off, trying to think of a not-so-shocking word to finish with.

“He ruined her,” Otto continued.

“You're talking about my daughter, watch your mouth!” Corlys demanded furiously, hitting his palm against the table. Lyonel had wanted to avoid exactly this.

Rhaenyra also glared at the king's hand. She hated that he had used that word to describe you but I can't help but think that maybe it was better that the lords thought that of you because then they wouldn't want to marry you. Her father would annul your marriage, you would come home to her and she would never have to worry about someone else trying to steal you from her.

“They married under Valyrian customs. It may not be valid in the eyes of faith but in my eyes, it is” declared the king. Besides, he wasn't going to annul your marriage and then marry you. It would be humiliating. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a wife who didn't love him. You had made it more than clear in the letter. He couldn't be mad at you, not when you had apologized for not telling him how you really felt sooner, had told him that you appreciated him but couldn't imagine loving him the way you love his brother, and that you thought he deserved a wife who truly loved him. Still, he was furious with his brother because he had taken advantage of you, it didn't matter that in the letter you said that Daemon didn't force you into anything and that it was your decision to marry, Viserys was sure that Daemon didn't love you, that he had only taken you as a wife to annoy him, as revenge for making Rhaenyra his heir.

“I am very sorry for my daughter's actions, your Grace,” Corlys apologized almost through his teeth. He was furious with Viserys for being so weak. Another man would have instantly annulled the marriage and gone to find his bride but he was not surprised by the king's attitude considering that he had been more interested in planning the wedding than in putting an action plan for the situation that was occurring on the Stepstones

He was so furious with you too. If before Viserys was not interested in the Stepstones, now with you breaking your engagement even less so. He couldn't believe you did this to him. He thought he raised you better. You could have made the Velaryons go down in history by giving the king a son but you ruined everything.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @salmonella22 @Illzarr @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002

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srjlvr · 9 months

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ENHYPEN — As Love Tropes !

희승 ✶ (heeseung) | childhood friends to lovers (0.191k)

meeting heeseung for the first time wasn’t awkward at all! you both were eight and hella energetic, you befriended each other as fast as the light. both of your mothers being supportive and happy with your friendship, they forced you two to meet up at least three times a week.

as you grew up, so did your feelings for each other. every day you’d spend your time together, walk to school and then walk home together, even working in the same part time jobs and taking the same shifts to be together.

you were so desperate to confess your feelings to him, and he did too, but it always felt so forbidden to confess, as if it’s going to ruin your friendship entirely.

until one day, heeseung accidentally exposed himself.

“you look so cute in here” he giggled as he looked at the pictures he took of you, “no wonder i like you” he chuckled. you shot your glance at him as he froze, “you…” you whispered.

he coughed, changing his gesture and stepping closer to you, “i like you…” he smiled, finally confessing and not minding about his concerns anymore.

제이 ✶ (jay) | soulmates (0.190k)

you’ve been searching for your soulmate for quite few years already, and you’re almost about to give up.

you got tired of hearing your parents’ love story again and again, how their “eye color changed and the whole world stopped for a few seconds” when they first met each other.

it was a soulmates thing, and “when the right time will come, you’ll know it” — at least that’s what your parents have always told you.

you tried to be more social, going out to parties and meeting new people, just to find your soulmate, but every effort of yours got wasted—not entirely though because now you have loads of friends!

but then you met him, when you didn’t even try or expected to meet him, you did. you accidentally bumped into him while walking with your friend, and as soon as you shared an eye contact, you suddenly felt everything your parents told you about.

“i’m jay” he smiles, “y/n” you shortly replied. your friend who was patiently waiting for you was long forgotten and all you could focus on was him, “i guess i finally found you, soulmate”

제이크 ✶ (jake) | highschool sweethearts (0.204k)

it’s been a few years since jake got his eyes on you, it was love at first sight. you’ve been classmates ever since seventh grade, and both of you slowly became popular and social amongst other students at school.

everyday, he would leave a snack on your desk with a cute note and his name on it, you’d do the same, leaving chocolate bars on his desk with a cute note that has your name in it.

it was no secret that the both of you had been crushing over each other for so many years, yet you’ve never dated. your ‘friendship’ was too sweet and innocent.

until you decided to officially confess to him, and it was no surprise that he returned the feelings. everyone in the school cheered for you two, they’ve been waiting for this moment more than the both of you.

even after highschool your relationship kept strong, he loved you more than anything else, and you made sure to shower him with love as much as you can.

your shared friends always looking at you with such jealousy in their eyes, but “what can we do? we’re the best highschool sweethearts” you teased your friends and pecked jake’s lips.

성훈 ✶ (sunghoon) | enemies to lovers (0.187k)

(i think we can all agree that e2l is so sunghoon coded)

elementary school gave you headaches, especially when the boy you hate the most is always up you ass. but now you’re in highschool, expecting something to be different— oh i bet the universe is laughing it’s ass.

park sunghoon, your worst enemy, the biggest rival you’ve ever had (your first and last rival-) he made sure to make your highschool life a living hell.

always teasing and making jokes about you, he knows very damn well how to piss you off. you tried to avoid him as much as you can, but it’s hard when he’s the one following you.

“stop following me,” you rolled your eyes, “i might think you like me or something”. he stepped closer to you, you stepped back until you bumped into the lockers. he looked deeply into your eyes and smiled, “there’s nothing wrong with liking you”

he then left, leaving you confused and dumbfounded. your cheeks however, turned as red as a tomato— what is wrong with you?!

the poor boy was a blushing mess as well, smiling widely while thinking about how cute you looked so close to him.

선우 ✶ (sunoo) | fake relationship (0.194k)

your best friend sunoo, was willing to help you with whatever you need, whenever you need. so when you asked him to fake date you to make the person you’re crushing over jealous he immediately said yes, even when he was the one crushing over you.

you and sunoo had boundaries, but even with them, you couldn’t help but notice how good he was treating you, acting as if he was your real lover.

as a week passed by, your crush was long forgotten, all you could focus on was sunoo. he was treating you right, from picking you up to school till making you breakfasts and lunches because he knows you’re always accidentally skipping them.

you fell for sunoo, and fell hard.

you didn’t know how to put it in the right words and tell him that you actually fell for him, so he decided to do the first step.

“it was supposed to be fake, but i can’t really fake it anymore y/n,” he sighed, “i like you, i really really do like you” he held your hands while you never felt more relieved, you grabbed his shirt and kissed him.

정원 ✶ (jungwon) | work colleagues (0.169k)

part time jobs are very popular amongst high school students. you want to became independent and have your own money! that’s why you found yourself working in a convenient store close to your house.

at first, you hated it. you were alone most of your shifts and it was starting to become pretty boring. that was then until your boss introduced you to a new worker, his name is yang jungwon.

as soon as you saw him you knew your boring days are over. you immediately befriended him and explained to him everything he needs to know about the work, he listened carefully and took notes.

he’s definitely a cute one.

as time passed, you and jungwon became closer, taking a liking to each other and working in shifts together to be with each other.

“hey” jungwon waved his hand in front of your zoomed out face, “let’s go on a date after this shift ends” he added. you looked at him and nodded, “yeah, yeah let’s do that”

니키 ✶ (niki) | love triangle (0.185k)

niki did his best at expressing his feelings towards you by actions, you were just too dumb to notice how much he likes you.

you and niki have been friends for a while, and as time passed, your feelings for each other grew mutual—you both were clearly in love.

but then you started to hang out with someone else, niki felt like he was falling behind and drifting apart from you when he watched the both of you enjoying each other’s company without him.

the other person fell in love with you too, and now you were stuck between two.

niki was scared to lose you, and you too was scared to lose him. you were so scared to confess your feelings to niki-so it came out naturally and accidentally of course.

“i like you” the other person suddenly confessed, “i’m sorry,” you whispered, “i can’t return the feeling—i like someone else” you looked down, “who is-“ “niki, i like niki” you cut the person. little did you know niki was eavesdropping you two, and was a blushing mess when he heard the sudden confession.

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vividachromatic · 2 months

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Meant To Stay The Worst

Pt. 1

Alastor x Reader

(friendship, slowbuild romance)

Pt. 2 ->

Note: This is gonna be a series. Reader and Alastor will be friends and fall in love and marry and meet each other again in hell and rule there as overlords...

Sounds nice and simple. And although all that is true, there will be a lot of emotional drama still. First, because of Alastor's trust issues, but also because they don't have a 'lovey-dovey' nice relationship. There will be fluff, and they'll love each other, yes. But the concept of their relationship is basically supporting each other in making each other worse. Like, they're in hell for a reason and want to stay there... They do morally corrupt things and even when they don't agree with each other they support each other.

I don't think this is dark enough to be considered a dark fic at all, it's more canon typically dark. But just to say this isn't meant to portray a healthy relationship or morals.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, use of Y/N (kill me for it) , Alastor AND reader are on the ace spectrum but don't know , alcohol use, idk tell me if there's smth else

---

There was cake and tea, lovely flowers and lovely dresses. If you'd have been alone this may have been relaxing. But every time you tried to let your mind drift off to something nice - like a scenario of a book you read, the obnoxious voice of your cousin snapped you back to reality.

"Then he told me our offspring would be genetically superior!" She giggled.

"How romantic." You sighed in boredom and tried focusing on something else. Being forced to drink tea with your lovely cousin who tormented you ever since childhood, just so she could please her own sadistic desires was something you had to do as a representing lady of your house.

God being a woman in the 1930s was exhausting.

Your cousin Maria rolled her eyes at you. "Does it make you happy to be so negative all the time? You know you're gonna die alone if you don't fix this attitude of yours, right? You act like you're better than me, but at least men like me." She gave you a smug grin.

"Yeah, congratulations. I'm actually not really interested in the constant humiliation of being treated like a lesser human being, nor the year-long physical abuse I'd have to endure until I'd finally finish slowly poisoning my husband's tea."

Maria narrowed her eyes at your audacity to speak your opinion. Then she cleared her throat and smirked at you again - this was the look she always had as a child when she was about to torture you. "Speaking of which... I actually have someone you may be interested in meeting this time."

You just stared at her blankly without a response. You were forced to go on dates with different men all the time.

You were 21 and still not married, which was just a scandal for your family. But, you always managed to successfully scare these men away on your dates. Because you're a woman, your opinion of whether or not they'd be a good spouse obviously didn't matter, so you had to think of creative ways to make them not want to choose you.

After noticing your lack of response to her statement, Maria simply continued, "See there is this radio broadcast I've been listening to and this broadcaster... he just had such a hot voice! And he talked about some stuff... I don't know what, I didn't really listen, but he seemed proper, so I asked my dad to use his power to arrange a date for me! But, when I researched him further... I think he's a little poor actually, he wore this fake brand... also he doesn't really look like how I expected him to look, so... since you're all for this equality stuff I thought it'd be perfect. My dad is mad at me since he already paid for the date, so you're perfect!" She finished, giving you a fake smile.

"Hmm... this actually sounds like your problem, not mine." You gave her a fake smile back.

The girl just gave you an angry look and finished drinking her tea in silence.

Oh, you were so sure she was going to try to find a way to punish you for this.

And right you were. Your dad informed you the same day that you were going to go on that date. And you should definitely look out to not fuck this one up again.

Your father even acted like he cared about you for a second, explaining how this is what you must do in this world. Even if it's not perfect. You just went to your room in silence, trying not to cry in front of him.

This world was cruel. Your brother followed society's expectations and was fine. Your cousin followed society's expectations and was fine. You didn't and were unhappy. So was this truly the answer?

The next day you made yourself ready - skipping breakfast.

You'd just scare off this man like the others. Maybe you'd have to marry someone mediocre one day. Or maybe you were gonna run away someday. You weren't sure yet.

Arriving at the restaurant you recognized the cheesy interior suiting the style of your cousin and her father immediately.

The polite waiter recognized your face and showed you your table.

This supposed date of yours already sat there. When he saw you walking towards him, he immediately stood up and politely extended his hand to you. You took it and he planted a short kiss on your knuckles. The waiter handed you the menus and excused himself.

The man had a polite and big smile on his face and pulled your seat back, waiting for you to sit down until he sat down himself giving you a small bow. "My name is Alastor! It's a pleasure to be meeting you my dear, quite a pleasure."

He was definitely polite. But you did see what your cousin meant by saying he was probably not from a rich family. His moves seemed too much like he memorized them from a book only a short while ago, and not from real experience. His clothes seemed expensive for someone from a lower class but not higher. He also looked more dark-skinned than people in your family would probably find great.

"My name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to be meeting you, too." You tried giving him an honest smile back. He was probably gonna turn out to be an asshole, too, like all the guys, but for now, he hasn't done anything wrong.

The two of you exchanged light small talk before ordering your meals. You were surprised to see him ordering a heavy meal with a lot of meat and strongly seasoned. You of course didn't care what he was gonna eat and ordered your favorite meal, too, whatever his opinion may be, but you were used to everyone ordering the same boring and light stuff to seem healthy and well-mannered.

The conversation seemed superficial and boring but not too bad. He had at least not shown any extremely radical opinions or behavior yet.

His smile remained on his face throughout the whole conversation and after a while, he cleared his throat and explained kindly to you: "Look, you seem like a really beautiful and lovely woman, any man would be lucky to have you. This is why I have to be honest with you and tell you: I'm actually not interested in any romantic relationship or anything similar. But I am flattered by the letter you sent me and I do enjoy your company..." his smile didn't falter as he tried to politely let you down. It did though, when he saw your unusual reaction to his rejection.

Your always neutral-looking face until now, was slowly forming a smile and your eyes lit up. You were offended he actually thought your cousin's (probably vile) letter was written by you, but all in all you were glad, because this man didn't actually expect to sleep with you or even continue meeting.

You let out a relieved laugh. After seeing his confused face you quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, I just- my father forces me to go on these dates when I'm not actually looking for a relationship. I was already prepared to try to make up some story to scare you off, too, like I always do. But it seems like I may actually be able to enjoy a dinner for once without pretensions or expectations."

Though scaring men away can be entertaining in itself, too.

Your truly relieved smile, while picking up your food made Alastor smile again, too.

"Well if that's the case, I am happy we're on the same page, then. Though I am surprised about this... letter of yours then." He smiled gently, though his eyebrows scrunched a little in irritation when he said the word letter.

You then explained the existence of your cousin with a roll of your eyes and an embarrassed smile.

From that point on your conversation was much lighter and actually enjoyable. You both shared your annoyance at everyone's expectation to have to marry to have a life worth living. You then shared your struggle specifically as a woman. Marrying a man basically meant selling yourself to another man after you belonged to your father. It's like being an object.

Surprisingly, he actually agreed and talked about feminism and how much he appreciated women, especially his mother who solely cared for him since he was little.

He then explained how he definitely didn't want to meet the person who wrote that letter and expected an awful evening, but his mother encouraged him to at least try to meet a girl for once. This then ended in you talking shit about your cousin and him laughing about it.

It's the first time you talked to someone who actually shared your opinion. Of course, you knew those people existed, there was a wave of feminist women nowadays, calling themselves 'flappers' and even some men supported it. But you were never able to meet any of them, the only people you met were the same old, sheltered relatives of yours or their acquaintances.

You did have a thirst for knowledge though, which was the reason you knew about all of this in the first place, even when you were supposed to only associate yourself with a certain circle of people.

But you loved to read books you weren't supposed to and you loved to express yourself through art, when you weren't supposed to.

You tried learning basic self-defense too, but it wasn't easy through words alone and nobody wanted to teach you, because it was 'unlady-like'.

Alastor listened to you talking with a smile and nodded. He then explained how he hung around Jazz bars pretty often and got to know many beautiful feminist women there. You listened attentively. You heard about these places and wanted to go there for some time... Alastor noticed your interest and invited you to show you around one of these bars sometime.

You agreed with a genuine happy smile. This meeting was so unexpectedly nice. And you probably even made an actual friend for once.

"I do have to ask... you said you scare men away usually?" He asked and you nodded with a grin.

"So, how do you do that exactly?" He asked with a smirk while eating his steak.

"I usually just pretend to be a witch, a cannibal or a serial killer. Always works." You shrugged. Convincing men of these things over one date was actually easier than you'd think. And it did make sure they would never want to contact you again.

"Oh? But you're not, right?" He asked, his smile not wavering.

"Hmmm..." You obviously assumed his question to be a joke or rhetorical and answered, "No, I'm sadly not that interesting." You grinned and he gave you a weird grin back.

After the date, he walked you back to your house like a proper gentleman and kissed the back of your hand again when saying goodbye. He was a proper gentleman, not condescending or expectant of anything. This was definitely nice.

When you arrived back home you seemed surprisingly happier than your father or your brother expected you to be. They asked you how it went and you just said it went well and returned to your room.

...

One week later you met Alastor again in front of a local Jazz Bar. He politely offered to intertwine his arm with yours before entering the place.

Inside you were immediately greeted with...

"Alastor!!!" A small blonde girl hugged him with huge enthusiasm. He awkwardly patted her back.

"Aww!! Who is this sweet doll you brought with you?" The girl grinned at you.

"This is Y/N. A new friend of mine." Alastor introduced you to the short, chubby girl. You gave her a shy wave with your hand.

She immediately took your hand and dragged you into the club. "Well, Alastor's friends are my friends! You're pretty! Can you do the Charleston?" You blinked at her in confusion, looking around you, trying to find Alastor. You weren't used to people touching you or dragging you around this much... was this gonna go bad?

"Mimzy! How about you leave this lovely, little fellow to me, hm? She's still quite new to the scene." Alastor grinned at the girl and took your hand to guide you to him again. You sighed in relief. This girl seemed nice, but you didn't know her.

"Hmmm..." The girl glanced between you and Alastor with a thoughtful expression. "Alright! Does the new girl at least want some alc?" She grinned.

You politely told her the drink you wanted and Alastor just said 'the usual' with a dismissive wave of his hand and a smile. Mimzy nodded and left the two of you.

Alastor now led you to a private boot. You felt awkward. You were usually not too shy, but this situation was so unfamiliar.

"Hey..." You felt a hand on top of yours. "Relax." Alastor smiled at you. You nodded with a sigh.

Later Mimzy came back with a glass of your drink and a bottle of whiskey for her and Alastor. They ended up sharing the bottle with you after.

Mimzy smoked a cigar and encouraged you to try it, too - you did and though it was nice, you had to cough a lot.

Mimzy just giggled, calling you cute. Later she and Alastor showed you how to dance the Charleston. At first, you were embarrassed to try it, but after a couple of drinks, you were convinced.

After dancing for a while you sat back in the corner of the booth, Alastor smiling at you and pouring you another drink. "I'm grateful, but I think this is gonna be the last one." You tried not to slur your words too much and smiled at him, still out of breath and blushing from the dancing and the alcohol.

He nodded. "I'll walk you back home, of course." You smiled at him in gratitude.

This was probably one of the most enjoyable night you've had in a while. Though it probably was just a regular one for Alastor and his friend. You wondered if she was his girlfriend, she was pretty and he said he wasn't interested in romancing you.

Later when Alastor walked you home he gave you a small kiss on the cheek, despite this not being labeled as an actual date.

Alastor grinned at your face flushing in embarrassment and he asked you if you'd want to repeat the night. You enthusiastically agreed.

--------------------

This fic is my offering to the Helluva/Hazbin God to finally grace us with Helluva Boss s2 ep8 🙏🙏🙏 (I know I'm pushing my luck here, but also please let Blitzo and Stolas fix their relationship- okay now I'm getting delusional)

If you want to know how girlie scared off men, I just had 'Red Flags' by Tom Cardy in mind lmao.

Anyway, I've planned way more parts for this one, including when they are both married and in hell, so stay tuned!

#alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #fanfic #alastor x reader

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discordantwritings · 4 months

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Safehouse (Koby x Reader)

Warnings: afab gn!reader, oral sex, PiV sex, reader thinks their feelings are unrequited but plot twist, lil bit of angst/ hurt/comfort, lots of mush

WC: 5.6k

Summary: You have a stupid crush on your Captain Koby, and things are fine until you are assigned on a mission with just the two of you. Now you have to fight your feelings as you share a bed with the man.

Notes: only one bed/ forced proximity is one of my tropes of all time thank you for requesting that I write it

Every night in your bunk you thinking about quitting the Marines. Your muscles have gone past the point of sore and aching, past pain, right to shut down. Every night you are confident you’re not going to get up in the morning, that you’ll get dumped off at the next port and figure out your life from there. And then you remember what your life was like before.

It made your stomach turn remembering the man you were set to be married to. Everything about him made alarm bells set off in your head- how much older he was, how disrespectful he was to you- but what was the worst was how you had no choice. So you made a choice. You ran to the first marine base you knew of and joined up, making the recruiter promise to transfer you a whole sea away. You were free- free to push your body to its limits every day.

But there was one other (embarrassing) reason you stayed. Your Captain. You had a giant stupid crush on your superior officer, Koby. I mean it was hard not to. He was kind, selfless, gentle, and not to mention handsome. Even when you were failing miserably he was soft and encouraging which made you want to do well and keep going. You had even developed a friendship with him, as close of a friendship as you could have with your captain but you cherished it. Chats in the hallways, asking you for feedback on training, and sometimes sneaked late night snacks became cherished moments for you.

You weren’t under any delusions though. There was no way you could be in a relationship with your superior officer on the off chance that he liked you back. Which you couldn’t imagine he would. He joined the Marines to be a hero, to help people in need. You joined for a selfish reason and you can only imagine what Koby would think of you if he knew what your story was. So it was just a crush.

A crush that kept you getting up before the sun every morning to run drills, to try and eke out every bit of praise you could get from your Captain. And as hard as it was, you were doing pretty well. Far from the top of your group, sure, but not the bottom and you were happy with that.

You were at the end of one of your grueling training sessions, laying on the deck of the ship with your fellow cadets as you all caught your breath so you could go about your daily chores.

“Cadets! One more thing.” Koby’s voice cuts through the chatter and you and every other cadet sit upright immediately. You see him standing there with a bucket under his arm and a wide smile on his face.

“I’ve got a small mission I have to leave on for a few days so you will be left in the capable hands of Helmeppo.” You groan internally at the thought of him being your commanding officer. He was mean and snotty, you’re not quite sure why him and Koby got along in the first place. “But one of you cadets will be joining me as a learning experience. Now I don’t want anyone to think I have favorites so I will be drawing a name out of this bucket, alright?”

Your stomach swirled with anticipation at the thought of spending that much alone time with Koby. But when you looked around and remembered how many of your fellow cadets there where you curbed your expectations. Only one name was getting picked and it certainly wasn’t-

You are yanked out of your thoughts by your name being called loud and clearly by your captain. Suddenly everyone is looking at you and that confirms that, yes, it was your name.

“I’ll see you at my desk after dinner to give you the mission details.” Koby says after you make eye contact. All you can do is nod and just like that he walks off and you have to go about the rest of your day.

A mission. With just you and Koby. You don’t know if this is amazing or awful. Yes you get a chance to get closer to him and to prove yourself as a Marine. But this also gives you a huge chance to embarrass yourself.

The rest of the day goes by quick while you’re stuck in your own thoughts and churning emotions until suddenly you’re standing outside the door to Koby’s office. Taking a deep breath you knock and wait for your Captain’s cheery “come in” before entering his office.

“Nice to see you! Are you excited for the mission?” Koby stands as you enter and gestures for you to take a seat. As you sit down he sits back down as well.

“Excited, nervous, same thing right?” Your tone is joking but it is how you actually feel.

“I know how that is.” He pulls out some folders from his desk and opens one. “So the mission isn’t anything complicated. We just have to check up on a Marine safe house to make sure everything is in working order and restock it. It’ll be a days trip there and then we will stay one night and head back. There shouldn’t be any trouble, just a routine thing that fell on us since our ship is passing close by.”

Oh. That sounds like a mission you can actually handle. A good amount of weight feels lifted off your shoulders. “Sounds easy enough.”

“It should be. We will leave tomorrow bright and early so be sure to get some rest, alright?” His kind smile and caring words have butterflies flittering around in your stomach.

“Yes Captain.” You say with a smile and a nod and stand up to go back to your bunk for the night. Right as you get to the door the voice of you Captain stops you.

“And just so you know I’m glad you’re the one coming with me.”

You don’t turn around to face him, knowing your face would give away the effect his words had on you. “Thank you Captain. I’m glad too.”

You rush out the door after that, speed walking back to your bunk so you can fling yourself into bed and scream into your pillow. Getting all your emotions out now was good you thought, so maybe for the next few days you had a chance of not showing your stupid crush.

Packed and standing ready on deck you fold your arms behind you and rock in an attempt not to pace while you waited for Koby. He wasn’t late- he never was- but you were painfully early after a restless night. You didn’t have to wait too long before you saw his pink hair turn a corner, his bags in tow. He beams when he sees you and you can’t help but beam back, his energy was infectious even this early in the morning.

“Looks like you’re all ready to go. Hope you’ve brushed up on your sailing.” He nods to the small boat the two of you will be taking, a small but sturdy sailboat about to be lowered into the water.

“Yes sir.” Sailing was one of the first things you learned when you joined up, and you secretly hope you remember what you learned.

“Then let’s go!” He hops in the boat and extends his hand out to help you up and your heart lifts as he clasps your hand and pulls you up. When you land on the boat you stumble forward a bit, colliding into Koby’s chest. You suck in a deep breath as you quickly hop away, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush on your cheeks.

Once the boat was in the water most pleasantries were dropped as the two of you got into a working rhythm. It wasn’t a bad thing- in fact working on this small ship made you feel more like a Marine than running drills ever had. The two of you worked well together (at least you thought so) and were on course to your destination.

Pausing for lunch you got to have a nice conversation with Koby. Normally any talks you had were cut short by duties and such but out here you were actually able to get into the rhythm of conversation. You shared embarrassing first moments as cadets, talked about the awful meals they always served you, and generally how crazy it was to be a Marine during the age of pirates.

Eventually you had to get back to sailing as the sun dipped lower and you got closer to your destination. The destination, you learned, was a small uninhabited island not important enough to make it onto most maps. A perfect place for an emergency safe house for the Marines.

As you sail up to the rocky shore the sun is dipping into the horizon and you as you glance over to see your Captain you can’t help but admire how he looks in the light of the setting sun. His soft pink hair gets warmer in the orange and red rays and the concentration on his face is highlighted. You catch yourself staring and quickly shake yourself out of it, finishing up your knots and stowing away everything on deck. He helps you off the boat, ever the gentleman, and the two of you make your way inland to the safe house.

The safe house is barely a house. A well constructed shack would be a more apt description. But you figured in a situation that needed a safe house beggars couldn’t be choosers. Koby entered first, just in case there was an ambush waiting, but of course there wasn’t an after a few seconds he called you in. Again, house was a very nice and not applicable word. It was one room and a bathroom furnished with a few lockers for storage, a single folding chair, and one bed.

Wait a second.

“It’s a bit dusty but I think we can handle it for a night, yeah?” Koby turns and smiles at you and you don’t have the power within you to smile back, gears turning in your head over the bed situation. Koby follows your line of sight and catches on.

“Oh. Yeah I didn’t think that would be an issue I assumed there would be a couch or something.” Koby rubs the back of his neck. “But it’s no bother I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

“No- I should be the one on the floor.” Your brain finally starts back up. “You’re my Captain I’m just a cadet.”

“Yeah but-“ He sighs. “I’d feel bad if you slept on the ground.”

That damn flutter in your chest happens again. “And I’d feel bad if you slept on the ground.”

“Well it’s my duty as your Captain to take the less favorable option so-“

The words come out before you can think to stop them, cutting Koby off. “Why don’t we just share.”

Koby looks back at you, a bit stunned.

“I mean, we’re both adults and if we just sleep back to back it’ll be fine, right?” You explain, hoping you don’t sound like an absolute creep.

“I mean, as long as you’re not uncomfortable that might be to best solution.” You can’t tell if it’s the light of the setting sun or if Koby’s face is just as flushed as yours feels.

“Right then.” You stand there awkwardly for a few beats. “So do we stock now or-“

“Oh yes!” Koby snaps back into action and the two of you go about replenishing the stock in the small house as the sun finally dips below the horizon.

It only took the two of you 30 minutes, maybe, and then you were faced with the bed once again. You excused yourself to the bathroom for your nightly routine, taking way longer than needed out of sheer anxiety. After brushing your teeth for the third time (a desperate attempt to combat morning breath) you decide it’s finally time to get back out there. Koby goes into the bathroom as you stare at the bed.

It’s an average sized bed and you can guess that if you put yourself right up to the edge and Koby does the same there will be an inch or two between you- not really a lot of space but just enough where maybe you won’t be touching. You slide under the covers and line your front with the outer edge of the bed and take deep breaths, doing your best to calm down before Koby joins.

It’s not too long before you see the bathroom door open and Koby slip out, wearing the same Marine uniform pajamas you are wearing as well. He turns the lights off and lays down on his side of the bed, back to you like you talked about earlier.

“Goodnight.” His voice is muffled slightly by your positions.

“Goodnight.” You return, hoping that Koby can’t sense your heart pounding in your chest.

Even though you aren’t touching you can feel the warmth radiating off of him and you want nothing more than to just press your back to his- any kind of physical contact would be fine since you’ve gone so long without any of it. But you don’t. You shove those feelings down and screw your eyes shut and hope sleep comes mercifully fast.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is how warm it is. Where you sleep is normally so cold so waking up to a comforting warmth relaxes the muscles in your body as you soak it up.

The second thing you notice is where the warmth is coming from. Somehow during the night Koby turned around and put his arms around you and now his front is pressed to your back. Your body immediately tenses up again as you’re jolted awake.

One of his arms is around your midsection, his hand over your stomach. You feel his breath on the back of your neck, even and deep so clearly he is still asleep. Your hand had drifted over Koby’s and you quickly retract it. None of your reactions are out of disgust no- all of them are because you are painfully aware of how much you want this.

An easy morning waking up in Koby’s arms is something you’ve fantasized about and you can’t help but soak it up despite knowing that it isn’t quite the same. It’s just something that happened involuntarily in the night, not something your Captain would have wanted. He saw you as a cadet- maybe as a friend- not this. Guilt for enjoying the moment stirs in your gut but all that is shot out of your mind when Koby shifts in his sleep and pulls you ever so closer to where you can feel more of his body pressed against you and-

Oh.

Right against your lower back you feel something hard press against you and you immediately know what it is. You bite the inside of your cheek and fight to keep your breathing level as the situation sinks in.

Of course, logically, you know it’s not about you. This is just a thing that happens sometimes and it’s just biological and not you. And you know if you were to move and wake him up Koby- perfect gentleman Koby- would be mortified and apologetic. He would never willingly put you in this position. But some part of you- a large part of you- like this. Likes feeling his body pressed against yours, his length trapped between your bodies. A cruel part of you wants to grind back into him but then you know you’d be taking advantage of him and you could never do that.

So you lay there. Impatiently waiting for him to wake as you keep your breaths low and even as if you were sleeping, tamping down your heart rate until this whole thing is over.

You don’t have to wait long, both of you exist on the same strict Marine schedule and you feel him wake up as he suddenly goes stiff, probably having the same realizations you did minutes ago. His hand slowly retreats back and then he practically flings himself backwards out of the bed. Your eyes are shut so you don’t see him move but you hear the opening and closing of the bathroom door and after a few moments you too shoot upright. The distinctive noise of the shower turning on signals you have at least a few minutes to yourself and you flop backwards into the bed with a groan.

Thank god it’s only one night and-

The sound of Koby’s transponder snail makes you sit back up again. Since Koby just got into the shower you know you should answer it- it was probably base wanting an update. You pick up the receiver and hear Helmeppo’s voice and after a short conversation you were filled in on a situation.

A nasty storm front had rolled in making it ill advised for you and Koby to sail back today, but it should be cleared up by tomorrow so just hang tight for one more day. You thank him for the update and fight the urge to fling the receiver into the wall.

One more night.

In that tiny goddamn bed.

It was a swirl of emotions because it was agony being so close to him but at the same time it was everything you wanted. It was selfish and pathetic but you kept ghosting your hand over where he held you and trying to recapture that feeling. You shoved that all down as you heard the water turn off and you quickly made the bed.

“Did I hear my snail out here?” Koby’s voice is behind you from the doorway of the bathroom and you turn to see him. And there he is. Shirtless.

Logically you know how strong Koby is, you’ve seen him fight and run drills without breaking a sweat but it’s one thing to know with your brain that Koby has muscles. It’s another thing to see it in front of you, the sheen of water glistening off of every single abdominal muscle he has. And he has a lot. It takes you almost too long to register that all he has is a towel around his lower half, seated just a bit lower than it should and you have to scream at yourself not to stare at the V shape his muscles carve in his pelvis.

Realizing you’ve probably taken painfully too long to answer you finally respond. “It was Helmeppo, apparently a storm rolled in and we are not clear to return today. He said to call him back with any questions.”

Some emotion came over Koby’s face just for a second before he was smiling again. “Well, I guess it’s good we brought all those rations.”

He ducked back into the bathroom and closed the door and you sighed. You could get through another 24 hours. Probably.

The rest of the morning is quiet as you trade places with Koby and get dressed and then breaking open some rations for breakfast. Koby suggests a patrol of the island- a glorified walk- and you agree.

Silence fell to comfortable conversation out on the rocky shore and eventually the two of you were skipping stones and laughing together. Sharing stories and blunders, you learned about Koby’s training under Vice Admiral Garp and why he was so close to Helmeppo.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why you joined the Marines.” Koby’s question forms a pit in your stomach.

You turn over the smooth rock in your hand, debating how to answer. When your fellow cadets ask you it’s easy to lie. But when it’s Koby? He picks up on your hesitation.

“I mean you don’t have to answer if it’s personal- I was just curious.”

“No it’s just-“ You sigh and stare downwards. “I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“I would never.” He voice is so honest you crumble.

You tell him everything. Everything you’ve kept pent up for over a year comes spilling out onto the shore in emotional waves. King listens patiently through it all and by the time you’re done you feel his hand on your shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” He speaks low and you feel tears prick in your eyes.

“But I mean there’s people like you, who do this just to help others. You’re a hero and I’m just a coward.” You bring your sleeve up to dot away the tears threatening to fall over your face.

“Hey, look at me.” Koby moves so he’s in front of you and you look up into his eyes. “You’re not a coward. You’re so incredibly brave, alright? At least I think you are.”

His words hit some deep part of you you weren’t sure existed and you crumble. Tears stream down your face and Koby pulls you in for a hug. You sob into his shoulder for what feels like hours, releasing all of your emotions. When you’re finally drained you take a deep breath and lightly step out of Koby’s hold.

“Thank you.” You whisper, trying not to cringe at the damp spot your tears made in his uniform.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you told me, seems like you really needed to.” He offers you a small smile and you can’t help but return it.

“Yeah I guess I did.” You wipe away the last of your tears. “We should head back…”

“Oh, I guess it is time for dinner.” Koby slings his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walk back to the safe house and you fight the urge to completely snuggle up into his side.

The two of you eat rations and have more fun conversation as the night wears on, and you finally feel comfortable being open. You laugh harder than you have in a long time with him. Before you know it the sun has already set and it’s time, once again, to deal with that damn bed.

After changing you get back into the same position as you did last night and Koby does the same. You lay there, consumed by thoughts of your day and how happy you feel. You feel the heat radiating off of Koby and you wish secretly you could wake up in the same position as this morning, to have just a few more moments of contact with him.

After who knows how long Koby shifts behind you and you hear a whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” You respond and roll over and see Koby laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I- um.” His hands play with the edge of the thin blanket. “After I say this I want you to know you can kick me out of this safe house. I’ll sleep outside, and there will be no punishment whatsoever for whatever you say after I ask you this.”

Confusion and nervousness come over you and you prop yourself up a bit to get a better look at him. “Okay?”

“I really like you.” He’s looking everywhere but you as he confesses this and you feel your stomach turn over. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable so I thought I would let you know and I’ll just sleep on the floor or outside-“

“Koby.” Your voice cuts him off and you have to take a deep breath before you continue. “I like you as well.”

Silence hangs in the air as Koby finally looks at you and the two of you just stare at each other in the darkness. Terrified if you move you’ll wake up from this dream you wait patiently for him to make the next move.

“Good. Well.” It’s clear Koby didn’t think he would get this far and the flush on his cheeks makes your heart warm. “Then I guess it would be ok to sleep here again.”

“It would be.”

“Then. I guess tomorrow we can talk about what this means.”

“We can.”

“Okay.”

You nod but don’t lay back down completely. Your body screams at you to hold him close but you don’t- seeing where he wanted to take this. He watches you not move, eyes scanning over your body before going back to locking eyes with you.

“Would you- I mean-“ His hand takes through his hair. “Would it be alright if I hold you?”

A grin splits your face as you nod, laying down and sliding up to his side. His arm goes behind your shoulder and pulls you closer as you wrap one of your arms around his chest. As your head settles in his shoulders you hear how loud his heart is beating- a comfort since yours is also hammering in your chest.

But as you lay there you can’t help but think of the morning. How he felt against your back and a heat pools deep in your stomach as you wonder what happened after he left bed this morning. Your fingers trace circles on his chest as you work up the courage to talk.

“Hey, Koby.” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“This morning I um… I have to admit something. I was awake before you were.” You feel his muscles stiffen under you.

“I’m so sorry.” He sounds mortified.

“No, no it’s-“ You keep tracing the circles. “I wasn’t- it wasn’t bad is what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh.”

You and Koby sit in silence for a bit as this information sinks in for him. You don’t press any further, waiting for his proper response.

“Can I admit something as well.” Koby’s voice is strained.

“Of course.” You move so you can look at his face, bright red and embarrassed.

“I might- this morning after I got up I had to-“ He groans, the words not coming out right. You decide to help.

You sit up and swing one of your legs over him so you’re straddling his lap. Koby seems surprised and his hands hang in the air for a bit before settling on your knees. “Did you think of me this morning Captain?”

“Yes.” It’s said barely above a whisper, but just that sends a wave of arousal down your spine.

“What did you think about?” You ask, hands slowly unbuttoning your top.

“How you felt against me.” Koby’s hands travel up to the tops of your thighs.

“And?” Fully unbuttoned you shrug off your top, smiling at the way Koby’s eyes become glued to your chest.

“How it would feel if we both had less clothing on.”

“I thought about that too.” You place your hands over Koby’s and bring them up to your hips. “You can touch me. I want you to touch me.”

His grip on your hips tightens slightly as he looks you over and you can see the gears turning in his head. Suddenly he sits up, using his grip to keep you steady on his lap as he pulls you in for a kiss.

His lips are soft as he kisses you deeply. One of your hands steadies yourself on his shoulder while the other goes to the back of his head and lightly grips some of his soft pink hair. The two of you kids until you’re breathless, pulling away panting as you rest your forehead against his. As you dive back in for more you shift your hips back and down and can feel his length against you through fabric and Koby groans loudly into your mouth.

His hands at your hips grip hard as you repeat the motion and he breaks away from the kiss to moan and pant. His mouth moves to your neck as he takes charge and thrusts his hips up to yours.

“Koby-“ Your plea breaks off into a moan. “More.”

The second the word leaves you mouth Koby’s hands are at the waistband of your pants and you lift your hips up so he can pull them down. You have to awkwardly leave his lap, rolling over on your back to fully shimmy off your bottom layers but Koby takes the opportunity to fully switch your positions- him hovering over you.

He presses kisses to your clavicle and slowly works down your sternum to your stomach and then your hips. You’re a whiny mess by the time his head is between your legs, hands holding your thighs open for him.

“You’re so wet.” He says it with a reverence that makes you blush hard, squirming a bit under his gaze. His fingers spread out your folds as he just looks, causing you to hook one of your legs around his back in an attempt to signal you want him closer.

He seems to get the message as two fingers press between your folds and slowly enter you. You sense how hesitant he is so as he pumps his fingers in and out you encourage him.

“Fuck- Koby feels good. Just need a bit more.” Your hand gently tangles in his hair and he takes the direction immediately, adding a third finger in. You arch your back as you get stretched out, moaning loud.

“Can I-“ He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and when you see the embarrassment on his face you know what he’s asking.

“Please Koby.” You whisper.

He kisses further in until you feel his breath on your folds. His fingers part the way for his mouth as he slowly licks up your entrance and you shudder at the contact. As your fingernails graze his scalp he dives further in, tongue entering you and gathering up your slick. He’s slow and methodical, picking up on every noise and movement you make and adjusting to what you like the most.

Three fingers pump in and out of you as he sucks lightly on your clit. Your heels dig into his back as he takes you apart bit by bit and you tug on his hair lightly.

“I’m close.” You breathe and he doubles his efforts, fingers curling inside you as he flattens his tongue against that bundle of nerves and you see stars as you gush over his face.

Panting, you barely notice his fingers exit you as he crawls up beside you, lovingly pressing kisses all along his path. As you finally settle back into your body you pull his face to yours, kissing him deep and tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hand dips down and finds Koby’s hard length and you squeeze through the fabric, earning you a deep groan into your mouth. You slowly work your hand up and down until Koby stops kissing you and whines, pressing his forehead to yours. Knowing he’s hesitating again, you push.

“I want you inside me.” You press a kiss to his cheek and gently push at the waistband of his pants. You watch his brain short circuit a moment before he catches up, hurriedly pushing his pants down and flinging them somewhere across the room, along with his shirt.

He gets onto his knees and you get a good look at him, cock red and leaking, almost painfully hard as it curves up towards his stomach. Adjusting your positions his knee holds one of your thighs open as the other rests on his thigh. He guides his tip to your entrance and you see him shudder as he first feels your heat. It’s not long before he’s pressing fully into you, made easy by all his previous ministrations.

Moans fill the room and he bottoms out inside you and he doubles over, forehead pressing to your shoulder as both of you adjust to his length inside you. You don’t need long before your hand soothes over his back and you tell him to move. And of course he listens.

He sets a steady pace, one hand gripping your hip as the other keeps him above you. He presses kisses to your neck and shoulder and whispers praises to you. How good you feel, how perfect you are around him, how he dreamed of this. You would love to tell him the same but you can’t quite form words so you settle for digging your nails into his back and scalp every time he thrusts.

It’s not long before both of you are teetering on the edge- Koby’s thrusts get sloppy and you need more.

“Faster- just a bit- almost-“ You choke out as one of your hands go between your two bodies and you circle your clit as he goes faster, chasing his own end. With one finally deep thrust you feel him coat the inside of your walls and it’s not long before you’re cumming as well, screaming his name.

Koby gently collapses on top of you and the weight is not unwelcome. You press kisses to the top of his head as you both gather your senses and you feel his arm latch around your side.

“Hey, I know things might be… hard for us… but I want you to know that I really do care about you.” Koby’s words hit deep in your heart and you wrap your arms around him tightly.

“No matter what I really care about you to.”

And you both know deep down that the two of you just said I love you.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #x reader #koby x reader #coby x reader #captain koby x reader #discordant requests

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facioleeknow · 5 months

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He loves me, he loves me not • Bang Chan

Does he like you or are you friends delulu?

WC: 1906 Genre: smut, fluff, lifeguard!au, highschool/college!au (implied)

TW: kids, smut, not proofread, shuhua x soojin (gidle)

AN: this wasn't supposed to contain any smut but Dahlia (@comet-falls ) made me think about Chris on his knees in the most inappropriate time (Brat).

Taglist: @bahng-chrizz

Working a summer job wasn't the worst thing you ever did, by far but it wasn't exactly how you planned on spending your summer. Especially if the job in question was at the snack bar at the local community pool. You wanted to spend your summer lazing around towns and spending way too much time at your best friend’s house, not yelling at kids not to run around and trying not to melt under the scorching summer heat.

The job, though, even if it resembled largely your own personal hell most of the time, had its perks. First of all you had free entrance at the pool and the keys which meant that if you wanted to swim late at night you could and you were sure the owner didn’t mind. And second the lifeguard assigned to keep the little demons at bay was Christopher Bang, and he was dreamy.

It wasn’t like you and Chris went back but you two knew each other as you had a mutual friend, Lee Felix, who was probably the sweetest and kindest person you knew. The friendship between you and Felix was weird, he was a literal angel and you were the biggest people-hating person you knew, he loved the sun and hot weather and you hated light and suffered if the temperature went past 15°C; but he never pointed the differences out and he was one of the closest friends you had, except for Shuhua of course.

You were extremely thankful to Felix, and not only because he went past your discrepancies but also because he was the one who found you the job; thanks to him you were able to freely ogle at Chris with heart eyes and a slightly open mouth.

“God he’s so hot,” you whined. That day was particularly hot so Chris had discarded his tank top and was only in his trunks, basking in the sun. The sight was glorious.

“Can you stop drooling on a man? It’s embarrassing,” Shuhua sighed and kept fanning herself with a random newspaper you found behind the bar and gave her. Her and her girlfriend Soojin finally agreed to visit you at work after you complained for weeks about how excruciating it was to stay around little kids all day without support. She had been side-eyeing you all morning for simping like that for a man, insisting that it wasn’t very girlboss of you and you insisted back that you knew but he was different, he was actually nice, which earned you an even more sour look.

“Leave her alone, I’m sure you were like this when we weren’t together,” argued Soojin, looking fondly at the other girl.

“Oh my god, she was even worse and I had to sit through it all the time and of course I couldn’t say anything,” you agreed with Soojin which made Shuhua whine quite loudly.

“Excuse me miss,” a little voice interrupted your conversation, “ can you give me another ice cream?”

“I’m sorry sweetie, but you already ate two and your mother told me not to give you any,” you forced a smile. That kid came everyday and demanded all the ice cream and when the mother said no he threw one hell of a tantrum.

You tried to resume your conversation with the girls, hoping that the kid would spare you that day, but as soon as you turned the child started screaming and crying for ice cream. Like. Every. Damn. Day. Shuhua scoffed once again and looked at him with that one scary stare she always had.

“Kid, didn’t your mother teach you not to interrupt adult’s conversations?” by the tone of her voice you could tell that your best friend was really ticked off and not just pretending to make the kid quiet. You kinda felt bad for the kid, being on the other end of Shuhua’s annoyance wasn’t something enjoyable. At all.

While you were thinking about that time when you had fucked up really bad and Shuhua yelled at you, the kid sprinted towards the counter, grabbed your phone and then started running in the opposite direction.

“Are you fucking serious?” you mumbled to yourself. as fast as you could you got out of the little snack hut and tried to run after the kid, who was extremely fast and wasn’t wearing shoes which gave him better grip on the wet floor. However you were way taller than him and his little legs could only do so much, your hand started grazing his shoulder and you were already tasting victory when your forehead collided with a hard metal surface. The elevated lifeguard seat. Your luck couldn’t be any better. You fell backwards.

Your head hurt like a bitch, that pole was very sturdy even if it looked rusty. You closed your eyes, the world was spinning a little bit. You could feel people looming over you and faint shouting a bit more far away from you. Soojin and Chris were both kneeling beside your slumped form.

“Are you alright?” Soojin whispered worriedly. You groaned, the last thing you needed was a gigantic bruise in the middle of your forehead.

“My phone.”

“Shuhua went to get it, don't worry.”

A big warm hand gently patted your head and started brushing hair away from your face.

“Are you sure you're okay?”a male voice asked. Chris. Your eyes shot open. He was smiling at you and it was the sweetest smile you had ever seen in your entire life.

“Yeah,” you sputtered. Your whole body was on fire, and not in the good way.

Chris put his muscular arm around your shoulders and helped you sit up. The closeness between both of your faces was making your heart beat wildly.

“I'm going to get some nice, wouldn't want a bruise to ruin your pretty face,” he winked at you playfully.

Soojin raised an eyebrow at you but your mind had escaped your current body and was metaphorically running in a flower field.

Maybe the summer job wasn't that bad.

From that day Chris would always exchange small talk in the morning with you when the pool was quiet and the kids were still sleeping. Sometimes he would catch you staring and he'd send a wink your way paired with one of his adorable smiles which made you extremely flustered. Shuhua and Soojin insisted he liked you, you insisted that he was being nice because you had a mutual friend. But after what happened earlier that day you were starting to toy with the idea.

It was extremely hot and everybody was struggling except the kids that still ran around like it was any other day. The snack hut felt like a furnace but the shadow it provided gave you at least some protection. Chris on the other hand didn't look so good, he was wearing a cap to protect his head against the sun but the heat was getting to him and you could see that. Your hand instinctively flew to the small fridge behind you and grabbed an ice cold bottle of water.

The walk to the chair was agonizing, your nerves we're so taut that you could play violin on them. The universe though, must have not liked you getting close to that particular spit because once again he sent a kid against you. The blonde, giggly, snotty child ran into your brand new t-shirt (a cat shirt) ice cream first and then proceeded to smear it across the front of it.

“Hehe, sorry,” he giggled and then ran away.

“I like you shirt,” chuckled Chris, now in front of you. You decided to ignore his comment and handed him the bottle.

“It's really hot, you should drink plenty of water.”

He took the bottle and smiled again, that man was all smiles.

“Go to the staff room, you can wear my shirt, I have the tank anyway, I don't need it.”

You froze. You? Wear his shirt? Your brain was shutting down.

The staff room wasn't far but it was separated from the pool which meant you could freak out as much as you wanted. Chris' bag laid open on the bench in front of you, his shirt was neatly folded on top. It was a plain black shirt and it smelled of laundry detergent and baby powder.

“Oh my god, he's not stinky like other men, I love him,” you whispered to yourself while you admired the shirt.

Maybe you were starting to like your summer job.

When you told Shuhua about the shirt incident she was adamant he liked you but you were still very reluctant to believe that. She kept bugging you and insisting that you should ask him out and that he was definitely into you. But still, being the stubborn woman you were, you kept to yourself and the summer swiftly came to an end. The last day of the job had a bitter taste to it, how would you survive without your hot lifeguard to gawk at? You didn't know.

The pool wasn't open, you were only supposed to put all of the pool chairs inside and lock up.

It was hard work and it was still very warm but you were getting paid, so you had to do it. Chris had other plans, he sent you in the staff room to make “inventory” while he carried inside all the chairs.

Y/N:

He's taking the chairs inside all by himself

His muscles look so sexy

I'm feeling hot and bothered rn ngl

Shuhua:

Just fuck already

“I wanted to surprise you but it seems like you were the one who surprised me,” Chris chuckled from behind your shoulder.

The gasp you let out was inhuman. You were screwed. As a way to escape the situation you started to slowly back away from him, but soon your back hit the wall effectively trapping you.

“You think my muscles are sexy?”

You nodded slowly.

“Feel them then.” His warm hand gripped yours and gently guided it to his arm.

“Very impressive,” you stuttered trying so hard not to faint on him.

Chris had his eyes fixed on you, he had this look, dark and intimidating. It was hot.

“Can I touch you?”

“YES!”

Your lips met in a soft chaste kiss, it was almost innocent, but his hands wandered your body. He gripped and kneaded your flesh feverishly. His plump lips trailed down your jaw and stopped at your neck. His link tongue darted out to lap at the skin.

Your mind was clouded with so much pleasure from only his mouth on your neck that you didn't notice his hand had slipped past your underwear until he pressed on your clit lightly. He had made you gasp twice that day, but the second one was for a completely different reason.

You were so wet it was easy for him to slip his fingers inside you. You instinctively threw your head back and smacked it a little too hard against the tiled wall.

“Careful baby,” he groaned. His fingers slipped out of you and a whine escaped your lips but your voice got caught in your throat when you saw what he did next. He kneeling. In front of you. And looking at you like you were a goddess.

“We should go out sometimes,” he said while he yanked your shorts down.

You definitely loved your summer job.

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flowerui · 2 months

Text

♫ we both like apple cider, pgw

fluff & light angst, 4.1k words ୨୧ first fic on this blog! feedback is appreciated!! ^_^ i've had awful writer's block for MONTHS so i hope i havent gotten too rusty,,,

wherein dancing is your favorite way to destress, until a certain gunwook park goes and spoils it all.

꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is a year older than gw, dancer reader, bff hanbin, one-sided enemies to friends to lovers, college au, misunderstandings, set in the us, does this count as forced proximity? light angst, fluff (it gets so cheesy idk what happened to me), drinking/underage drinking ꒱

Dancing had always been your favorite way to unwind. After a long day of classes, practice is like a treat; the mental toll of having to listen to your professors drone on all day, and procrastinating assignments until the night they’re due is easily unraveled by dancing until you can’t feel your limbs—it’s unmatched.

That’s why, despite it being Wednesday (the second worst day of the week), you walk out of your last class with a skip in your step, like nothing could ruin your day.

Nothing except a man named Hanbin, that is.

After changing, you enter the practice room, ready to forget your worries. But before you can begin, you see a paper stuck on the wall beside the door—Hanbin must’ve finally put together the choreo for the solo and duet performances for an upcoming recital for some event on campus (truthfully, you can't be bothered to remember all the details, that's Hanbin's job), and decided on who’d best fit the roles. You’re a little late, so it’s just you who curiously shuffles over to take a look.

Seeing your name under Duet makes you smile until you read your counterpart's name. Gunwook Park.

You find a spot to sink to the floor in the back of the room. Suddenly, you’ve changed your perspective on dancing; it’s the worst thing to happen to you. You regret ever discovering this useless passion of yours, who even needs passions in this economy?!

Hanbin would tell you otherwise, but you believe that you have pretty good ideas.

You’d tried to take an easier route and complain to Hanbin that you absolutely could not work with Gunwook for a duet. But he was adamant about not making any alterations at this point, at least not just because you don’t like Gunwook—what a traitor, what happened to friendship?

Since complaining about your unfair working conditions did fuck all, you came up with a wonderful solution. You get paired with the number one person on your shit list? Just don’t show up to rehearsals. Boom, problem solved. Though it’s easier said than done; you’re a creature of habit, and the disappointment of remembering you can’t destress with dance is depressing.

And, of course, avoiding both Hanbin and Gunwook is a chore.

It’s on day four that you consider, maybe Hanbin is right sometimes. You were only successful in avoiding everything except schoolwork because college kicks everyone’s ass, and finding free time starts to feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But, maybe ditching practice when you live with the leader of your dance team wasn’t your best idea. On Sundays, both you and Hanbin usually end up being home at the same time.

And like an idiot, you forget this detail and trudge out of your room at two in the afternoon (no, you certainly did not just wake up, thank you very much) to find something acceptable to eat.

As you’re rummaging through the pantry, you hear your name called in that tone. The one where Hanbin’s voice sounds mildly shrill and a bit patronizing, the one that lets you know you’re in trouble.

Yeah, not your brightest idea—it might take over the number two spot of your top three worst ideas, followed by trying to gaslight a random group of people into believing that Play-doh is edible after you’d had a drink too many at your first college party at number one. (To be fair, you did not expect a twenty-something-year-old man to have Play-Doh on hand and tell you to prove it. Yes, you tried. You vomited on the guy’s shoes.)

Rigidly, you slowly turn to face Hanbin, who has a terse smile on his face.

“...Yes?”

“I thought maybe you hadn’t shown up to rehearsals because you weren’t feeling well, but yesterday, Gunwook told me every time he spotted you on campus, you naruto-ran away.”

“Uh,” you fake cough into your elbow, “Must’ve been someone that looks like me? ‘Cause I have been feeling kind of under the we—”

You shriek and make a run for it when Hanbin stomps over with that creepy hamster puppet you’d given him as a gag gift last year in hand. Eventually, you get cornered and get a creepy hamster puppet thrown in your face. “You can’t just ditch practice because you have some petty one-sided rivalry—or whatever it is—with Gunwook. You’re risking embarrassing the whole team! What are you planning to do, just not learn the choreography?”

“You know it's not a rivalry...” You grumble.

“You’re being childish,” Hanbin sighs, “I’ve already told you that whatever your deal is with Gunwook is some misunderstanding, he’s a sweet guy.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You huff, probably not helping the childish accusation. You’re tired of hearing that about what a good guy Gunwook appears to be because you know what you heard.

Without another word, you stomp off to your room.

If you had any hopes of getting out of going to rehearsal again, they’re promptly stomped on by Hanbin waiting outside of your class when you trudge out.

“Really?” You groan, and walk over to your supposed friend, “You don’t need to escort me.”

“I think I do,” Hanbin crosses his arms, fixing you with a look, like he knows you better than yourself… okay, he does ninety percent of the time, but that doesn’t mean he can act like it. “I’m pretty sure I saw you ready to head in the wrong direction before you saw me.” He says before grabbing your arm and pulling you down the hall.

“I don’t even get what your deal is with Gunwook,” Hanbin finally says when you’re about halfway to the studio, “I know you said you heard him say something… unsavory, but that just doesn’t sound like him at all. I think you should talk to him, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

“I know what I heard, Bin…”

“I’m not saying you didn’t hear what you heard, but maybe there’s some missing context.”

You try to consider Hanbin’s words, even as you absentmindedly head into the changing rooms, and reluctantly shuffle into the practice room afterward, you truly do.

But all the rational thinking and breathing techniques in the world cannot quell your ire when you see Gunwook. Calmly walking over and refraining from saying anything uncouth is a true test of mental strength—one that you are quite afraid of failing.

“Hey—” Gunwook rises from his spot in the corner of the practice room to greet you.

“Let’s get started.” You blurt out, aware of how cold and biting your dismissal comes off. To be fair, Hanbin didn’t tell you to be particularly nice, he just insisted you show up.

“Oh, right,” Gunwook’s expression wilts, but he clears his throat and plasters a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure Hanbin already let you know he wouldn’t be here to help us out today—he’s helping Natty with her solo. I’ve got the choreo down, so I should be able to guide you if needed.”

“I practiced at home.” You did. A little bit, it wasn’t easy with the limited space in your cramped—ahem, homey apartment. But practicing a duet by yourself, then giving up after stubbing your toe on every fucking piece of furniture in your home, and practicing it with your duet partner are two different things.

“Oh, that’s good… um, I’ll start the music.”

Your name is followed by an exasperated sigh. With reluctance—because your phone’s home screen is just that interesting—you glance up from your phone, to see Gunwook eyeing you through the mirror.

“Could we try to get through the routine? Maybe without you scratching me this time?” Gunwook gnaws at his bottom lip, sweat beading at his temple. He’s actually been hard at work, practicing while you sat in the corner of the room—essentially sentenced to a time-out after accidentally scratching Gunwook every time you tried to run through the routine with him. Accidentally.

You can’t help the frown that sets on your lips. Only to you, it seems, Gunwook Park is an enigma. When he first joined the team, he seemed nice, and he wasn’t much younger than you, you just never got the chance to properly talk to him. However, now you never want to speak to him, the fact that you have to work so closely with him is nauseating.

Tampering down all the ugly word vomit bubbling in your throat, you mentally repeat Hanbin’s words from yesterday to yourself, ‘You’re risking embarrassing the whole team’. Not only do you find most of your teammates to be more than bearable, but you also you can’t bomb a performance because you were too petty to practice the choreography, so, even though the thought of being so close to Gunwook—having to touch him makes you full body cringe, you suck it up.

“Sure.”

Begrudgingly, you get into position and wait for your cue. As the music starts up for what feels like the billionth time that evening, you miss the many nervous glances cast your way.

Succeedingly, you manage to not cause any more bodily harm, even when you have no choice but to get close enough to Gunwook to the point you cannot look anywhere but into his eyes. The urge to flee strikes, as unease among other odd emotions you will not address churn in your gut, but you deal with it (read: ignore it).

You manage to run through the routine once, then again, and again, and again, until your limbs feel like gelatin and you have no option but to sprawl out on the floor. It occurs to you how much you missed this feeling, you can barely believe you let your pettiness get in the way of it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Turning your head to the side, there’s Gunwook, also sprawled out beside you. Huh, you don’t even have the negative energy within you to loathe his presence in the moment.

“You just did. But you can ask one more thing.”

A goofy grin splits Gunwook’s lips before he turns his head back to face the ceiling, expression shifting a little more seriously. “Did I… was there something that I like did? Or said to upset you?”

Oh. Right. So, you haven’t forgotten your distaste for Gunwook. You feel your good mood sour, as you scoff, and force yourself to finally sit up—your limbs are very much protesting, screaming at you, matter of fact, but fuck them. And fuck Gunwook Park. “Seriously?”

You glance over your shoulder, Gunwook, who sat up shortly after you, only blinks at you curiously, as though he hasn’t got a clue.

“You really don’t know? Do you just talk shit about everyone and that’s why you can’t seem to remember me?”

“What…?” Gunwook’s brows furrow, “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you." You push yourself up off the ground, fixing Gunwook with an exasperated look, "After our performance at orientation in August, you had a lot to say about my skill, and how ridiculous I looked.”

“I don't…?” You watch as the confusion and then the recognition passes over Gunwook’s features, “No, I—shit,” he hangs his head with a groan, which doesn’t serve to dissipate any of your arising confusion. “That wasn’t about you.”

“I heard you say my name, don’t bullshit me.”

“I—okay, I definitely said your name, but it seriously wasn’t about you. There was this, um, character in a film my roommate watched for some project; they were supposed to be a dancer, but they were godawful. I was talking about the character, and I didn’t even think about how they had the same name as you, or about how loudly I was talking about that.”

“Oh,” you say, rather intelligently. You consider the thought that he could be lying, but he looks at you with such earnestness, remorse practically pooling in his eyes, you can’t even entertain the thought for more than a moment.

“Yeah, oh. I’m sorry you thought I was talking about you…”

“No, I’m sorry,” you quietly sit back down, anger gone as quick as it arose, and flop back on the floor with a sigh. Having your entire view of Gunwook Park debunked in a mere minute was not on tonight’s bingo card.

“I should’ve—Hanbin kept telling me it was probably a misunderstanding and to confront you, but I just stewed in my misguided hatred. God, Hanbin’s going to be insufferable once I tell him he was right all along.”

Gunwook huffs a laugh, “I’m glad we sorted this out, finally. Um, I guess we should wrap up for tonight since it’s getting late. Can I walk you home?”

“Don’t you live on campus? You don’t have to walk me home if you just have to walk back here…”

“It’s fine!” Gunwook smiles, oddly enthusiastic. Weird, personally, you dread having to walk home after practice. “I want to, and I guess now we can get to know each other? Now that you don’t hate me.”

“Yeah… okay, I’ll grab my stuff.” You sit back up again, as much as you’d like to become one with the floor.

“Okay, cool.”

“Cool.” you can’t help but smile, seeing the wide grin on Gunwook’s face. You’re going to choose to believe the warmth in your cheeks is because you’re still cooling off from rehearsing.

The idea of rehearsing is a lot more palatable now that you don’t despise your duet partner. The actual rehearsals aren’t too bad either… they’re actually kind of enjoyable.

Hanbin was, in fact, very insufferable when you spilled everything that’d happened that day to him. He’d been waiting up for you, sitting on the armchair in your living room, and nearly gave you a heart attack when he flicked on the lamp beside him; like he was your mother and he’d caught you sneaking back in the house.

“Hey, how was class?” Gunwook has taken to waiting for you outside your classes on rehearsal days, you even say hi to each other when you see the other on campus, and maybe talk if you’re not busy.

“Don’t get me started…” you groan, “I have no idea what my professor was on about today, but I thought his jaw was going to unhinge before he finally stopped talking.”

Gunwook chuckles, and grabs your bag from you, cradling it to his chest. “I thought I told you I could carry my bag myself?”

“And I told you that you could try to take it back.”

You did try, and you decided you do not like freakishly strong guys. “Whatever… what about you? How was your class?”

“Didn’t go today…” Gunwook trails off, glancing down at your linked arms. A habit after losing Hanbin in crowds one too many times. It feels nice with Gunwook, though. “Um, my roommate—” he clears his throat before he continues looking forward, revealing his red ears. Oh, that’s cute.

“He kept me up late ‘cause he needed help with his film project that he’s been procrastinating. I ended up waking up at like one-thirty…”

“Really? So, you just came straight here after waking up?” You tsk, choosing to look away from his pouted lips for your sake. “Did you even eat? Let’s stop by this café a few blocks away before we rehearse. It opened last month, Hanbin and I were supposed to check it out, but I think he forgot.”

You’re not blind, of course, Gunwook is, well, objectively attractive (subjectively as well, perchance). With much coaxing, you might’ve been able to admit it a week ago when you hated him. But, his attractiveness is far too illuminated when you’re a mere inches from his face; faced with his distractingly pretty brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. Oh God, he’s cute. He’s so fucking cute, and you are so fucking screwed.

Before you can say something so embarrassing you’d have to migrate to another country and assume another identity, you take the initiative to part from Gunwook, carefully backing away, and clearing your throat, “Should we take a break?”

Except that doesn’t even help, because when you sink to the floor to watch YouTube, Gunwook is beside you, smushed at your side to watch whatever you’re watching. You can’t even remember what video you tapped on, but apparently, you’re seven minutes into a video when Gunwook reaches over to pause it.

“Hey, um, one of my friends—his name’s Junhyeon, his frat, Zeta Rho Xi is having a party this weekend. He kinda roped me into going, and I was just wondering if you were free…? I would, um, it’d be cool if you could stop by.”

Parties haven’t been your thing for a long time; you tried to party freshman year, since people seemed to go on about the college parties. You just couldn’t get super into it, plus only things like the Play-Doh incident came from parties… and that’s why you’re not sure why you say, “Yeah, no, I should be free. I’ll check it out.”

You aren't even free, you have an essay you’ve written approximately two sentences for that happens to be due Monday. But the smile on Gunwook’s face makes agreeing feel like the right choice.

Immediately upon stepping inside, you remember why you hate parties. One, you lose Hanbin instantly. Two, trying to push through a bunch of sweaty, drunk people (who are surprisingly sturdy) is a pain in the ass. And three, it’s loud, you already feel like you need a drink. Or maybe three.

You manage to make it to a mostly empty kitchen, and at that point, you’ve lost any motivation to go search for Hanbin or even Gunwook. For the most part, you’ve given up caring about being ‘lame’, so, you’re perfectly content sitting in the kitchen on your phone at a party while sipping on possibly the worst quality beer you’ve tasted in your twenty years of life.

It’s maybe thirty minutes until you finally look up from your phone at the call of your name over the ear-damaging volume of music.

Hanbin stumbles into the kitchen, using Gunwook as support. You can make out your friend’s flushed cheeks, even in the dim lighting, you have no idea how he’s gotten drunk so fast. “There you are! I found Gunwookie, it looked like he was waitin’ around for you, ‘cause he was just in a corner lookin’ around… didn’t you guys exchange numbers?”

“I already told you I forgot to ask…” Gunwook mumbles.

“Oh,” Hanbin lets go of Gunwook to slide up beside you, “Hey, did you know that, um—” Gunwook rushes over to slap a hand over Hanbin’s mouth, are they both drunk? It’s more difficult to tell with Gunwook, his cheeks always look pink…

Hanbin removes Gunwook’s hand with a glare, “Don’t interrupt me,” he chides, as sternly as he can while drunk. “Anyway, ‘m so glad you two figured things out. I hope Gunwook tells you about his massive heart boner for you.”

Hanbin makes it probably ten times worse by continuing, “He’s—he’s had such a big crush on you since like, um, since like the millisecond he joined the team. But this whole time you thought he was mean to you, isn’t that silly?”

What isn’t silly is the look on Gunwook’s face, he looks positively mortified.

“...Okay, Bin, I think you’re ready to go home already,” you smile tersely, side-stepping the topic for now, maybe forever actually. “Gunwook, can you help me with him?” You ignore Hanbin’s slurred protests. It must take a moment for Gunwook to recoup before he’s at Hanbin’s other side, helping you pull the drunkard up.

You avoid looking in Gunwook’s direction, despite the fact you can feel him burning holes into the side of your head. Of course, there’s no avoiding the conversation—inevitably, you’re going to have to talk to Gunwook about what Hanbin said, but maybe you can get out of it tonight…?

It’s not that you’re particularly afraid… okay, well, you are, except it’s just unnecessary anxiety. Now you feel better about admitting to yourself that you’re interested in Gunwook. But what if Hanbin’s drunk rambling was just drunk rambling, and it was all nonsense? Well, Gunwook probably wouldn’t seem so nervous if that were the case, but maybe he’s nervous because he just doesn’t want you to be under the impression that he—

“Oh, hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for Hanbin…”

“Oh, Hao, hey.” you mentally thank Hao for unknowingly rescuing you from spiraling into your annoyingly irrational train of thought.

“Do you want me to take him off your hands? We were planning to ditch before he disappeared.”

Okay, time to put on your big person pants and be an adult. “Yeah, thanks.” Handing Hanbin off is pretty easy, the man completely unbothered that he’s thrown two of his protégés for a loop (he’ll probably feel a lot worse about it tomorrow, especially when he’s hungover). What’s less easy, is being left with Gunwook.

“Well, since Hanbin aired everything out…”

“Right, yeah. We should talk, maybe outside?”

Gunwook nods, leading the way to the back door, you follow closely behind him. As not to lose him in the clusters of people, and maybe just because you want to, you grab onto his arm.

Outside, your eardrums thank you for finally getting out of there, though your nervous heart is another story, rattling against your ribcage incessantly. Warily, you avoid looking at Gunwook, distancing yourself a good few feet away from him, “So…”

“I like you,” Gunwook blurts as if he won’t get another chance to say so, “like a lot. I initially joined the team ‘cause of you actually, I hadn’t even danced since middle school. But you were so—watching you on stage at orientation felt so… enchanting.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks at Gunwook’s flattery, and he only continues, “I thought you were perfect, so obviously I immediately signed up for the dance team, even though I wasn’t even sure if I was any good at it anymore, just so I could have an excuse to see you. Only for me to never gain the courage to even talk to you…” Staring at the wooden planks of the porch beneath your feet, you see Gunwook’s beaten-up Converse come into view, urging you to look up again.

“Gunwook, I—”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel anything like that for me, I just can’t let the what-ifs get in the way of me trying anymore.” Oh, how could you not feel something for him? Surely anyone could fall for him just by staring into his pretty brown eyes.

The weird feeling in your gut, which must be those butterflies people talk about, amplifies, you think you’d have to be a fool if you didn’t feel something for Gunwook Park. “I don’t… not feel something,” you hastily avert your gaze, “I guess I’m not entirely sure what it is, but I am interested in you. I, um, would be open to exploring that.”

“I understand—wait, you… really?”

You look up in time to see the overjoyed grin split Gunwook’s lips. It’s infectious, you can’t help but mirror his smile, laugh tumbling past your lips, “Yes, you dork. You better sweep me off my feet.” You playfully shove at his shoulder.

“I will,” Gunwook grabs your wrist before you drop your arm, thumbing at the inside of it, “are you free tomorrow?”

“I…” You aren’t free, remember that pesky essay of yours? “Yeah, I am.” Oh, well, you suppose it can wait; likely until tomorrow night, when you finally open your laptop at eleven-thirty at night, when it happens to be due at midnight. You happen to work great under pressure!

“Perfect, can I pick you up at your place at two?”

“Sure, are you gonna remember to ask for my number this time, though?” You tease, making a ‘give me’ motion with your free hand.

Gunwook’s cheeks somehow get pinker, as he finally lets go of your wrist and retrieves his phone from his pocket, handing it over with the new contact screen open. Quickly, you type in your number and then your name, cheekily adding a heart beside it.

“Can I walk you home? Or, uh, if you wanted to go back to the party, that’s fine too…”

“Nah,” you’d rather do just about anything else than go back into that mess, you’ve had enough parties for the rest of your college life, “I’m pretty tired, and I have a super important date with a great guy tomorrow.”

With a coy smile to match Gunwook’s shy one, you cozy up to his side and link arms with him, “Let’s go?”

You’d still consider dancing to be a great way to unwind—still one of your favorites, it's just been demoted to second place.

Nothing ebbs away your stress like Gunwook popping into your room with your favorite food after you’ve been staring at your laptop screen for hours as if you were hoping your assignments would finish themselves. Or his hugs—always so warm, it’s like hugging an oversized stuffed bear. Or just… him.

Unrivaled after several years, dancing has finally met its match: Gunwook Park.

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maemae2998 · 3 months

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Hear me out

Idea for an episode:

This could be an episode about the various characters’ backstories. There could be a place in Hell with an archive of everyone’s stories and a picture of them. They could all be curious about that and take a trip down.

While Vaggie, Charlie, and Niffty follow Alastor, Husk and Angel could go off to do their own thing.

At this point, they could have developed a close bond, and each would consider the other their best friend. They could have a bet going about did the worst stuff in life. (But secretly also want to see what the other looked like in life.)

Husk could find out Angel’s first name is Anthony, and jokingly calling him Tony with a bad Godfather accent.

“Please, no! No one called me that but my stupid cousins! And they were assholes to me!”

“I’m just giving you a hard time. Besides, Tony doesn’t fit you as a name,” he smiles softly.

Angel perks up, “Ya think?”

“Yeah. Anthony sounds like a choir boy who got married to his high school sweetheart. That ain’t you.”

Ange laughs and they search for Husk’s file. Once they find it, Husk decided to play keep away. Gliding through the air, taunting Angel. Finally, Angel tackles him and they go tumbling to the floor. They land in a tangle of limbs with Angel on top. He grabs the file and holds it over his head. Husk tries to snatch it back, but winds up too close to Angel’s face.

Angel stops laughing when he notices and squirms a little in embarrassment. He goes to move away, but Husk brushes a claw against his cheek.

(They would be at a point in their relationship where the friendship was real, and the flirting had turned genuine. This could be the building of a lot of little moments.)

“May I?”

Angel nods and their lips meet. The kiss would be soft, tender. The caring touch that neither of them have had in a long while, possibly ever. It isn’t rushed, but it is hungry. Like someone who has been forced to guard food can finally taste it.

When they pull apart, they pant and gaze through half lidded eyes.

Before either can say anything, they hear Charlie and the other’s approaching. They get to their feet and try to look presentable.

“Why does it look like you two just fuck in a closet?” Vaggie asked with a smirk.

Husk recovers first, his blush momentary, “We didn’t. This bitch tackled me cause of the— Wait a second, give that back!”

He realizes that Angel is still holding the file and grabs for it.

On instinct, Angel lurches away, “Who wants to see what Whiskers looked like as an old man?”

Though he is tempted to start another playful wrestling match, he instead sends Husk a wink. The others clamber over to get a look at the file.

(Don’t worry, Husk gets him back later with his own file.)

When they get back the hotel, they have a talk about their feelings. They confess, kiss some more, and be sweet and gay! Angel can call Husk pet names in Italian! It’s all so fluffy and it makes my heart scream! This is my new Roman Empire.

I just NEED more soft looks between them.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #huskerdust #roman empire #gay love #story

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lurkingshan · 3 months

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After reading this post from @waitmyturtles about her read on Fire and Dynamite, I was thinking a bit more about the way the show has handled their story and what I love about it. And I think it comes down to a crucial point: Cooking Crush, unlike most Thai bl, is NOT in the bubble, and the presence of homophobia, both internal and external, cannot be separated from their story. This is a queer narrative to the core.

Both Fire and Dynamite are shaped by their sexuality and their experiences or fear of rejection because of it. Dynamite is out and proud and unapologetic about what he wants, and as we learn when his backstory is revealed to us, this is a direct response to the familial rejection he experienced when he came out. Dy is defiant and in your face with his desires because he has already experienced the worst kind of rejection and is always bracing for more. So he dares people to do it right out of the gate. He likes to know where he stands with people, so he’d rather be his brashest self and suffer the loss early before getting attached. He deals with fear by daring people to prove him right.

Fire takes his fear in the opposite direction, denying who he is and rejecting anything that makes him think too hard about the aspects of himself he does not want to deal with. Even without Dynamite in the picture, it was clear that he was trying to talk himself into liking Jane in a way he simply did not. Once we got to know his mother, the source of his fear became crystal clear, and it was easy to see why he worked so hard to suppress himself. Fire was unhappy living that way, and Dynamite was a constant reminder of what he was trying to keep down, so it’s no wonder he reacted so viscerally to him.

But that’s exactly why their story works. Fire needed someone who he couldn’t ignore to draw out his true self, and because Dynamite is so unwilling to put up with mixed messages and half-hearted declarations, Fire had to work himself all the way out before Dy would accept him. One of the genius things this show did in their arc was have Dy pull away as soon as Fire began sending mixed signals. Dynamite was fine in the face of Fire’s firm rejection—it as what he always expected to get from him along with everyone else. But he wouldn’t allow Fire to run hot and cold on him and play with his emotions, because that was where he knew he could get really hurt. And this boundary that Dy set forced Fire to figure out what he actually wanted and communicate it clearly.

Which is why we saw Fire change so much as soon as they were together, because in the process of deciding what he wanted from Dynamite, Fire had to make some decisions about who he wanted to be and how he wanted to live. And he chose to embrace his queerness and live a more authentic life. He is a new man in this relationship because he is being himself for the first time ever, and he’s finally breaking free from the weight of his own internalized homophobia. It’s a positive change and one that is clearly making him happy, and part of him must feel grateful to Dy for pushing him into figuring out what he wanted.

But crucially, that is where Dy’s pushing ends. He is utterly unwilling to make any further demands of Fire regarding coming out, to the point that Dy puts his own friendships at risk to hide their relationship and protect Fire until he’s ready. He understands the fear of rejection Fire is still dealing with because he lived it. And he has already proven that he’s up to the task of handling Fire’s mother whenever Fire is ready to face her. These two are still early in their relationship but they have already fallen into a very natural and easy pattern of providing each other emotional support and stability, and we can see them shoring each other up. They make a great pair and theirs is a story that can only exist between queer characters.

I just love that in this show that feels so light on the surface they have made room for such depth in the storytelling. Watching Cooking Crush feels like a warm hug because even though it’s gentle and funny and often silly, there are real emotional struggles to ground us, and the story takes them seriously. We’ve seen this consistently in the main storyline with Ten and Prem, and Fire and Dynamite are no exception.

#cooking crush #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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its-vannah · 1 year

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Vigilante Sh*t | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: Y'all, this is a bad b*tch fic. Prepare yourselves.

Warnings: Death of a major character, attempted murder, divorce, arranged marriage, marriage, mentions of consummating a marriage, pregnancy

Midnights Masterlist

For as long as you can remember, Lucerys Velaryon had been one of your closest friends. As children, the two of you were much too timid to meddle with politics. You preferred to stay out of the limelight.

That was until you had recieved the news of his death. When a messenger had told you what had happened, you felt your knees give out beneath you.

Don't get sad, get even

Steadying yourself against a nearby wall, you tried to calm your nerves. He wasn't meant to die. Not now, not this young. And you were ready for revenge—even if it meant taking it out on your own husband.

-------------------------------

When it has been announced that you were betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, your family had been thrilled. Finally, one of their children would marry into nobility.

But you were severely disappointed.

From what you had seen, Aemond was a menacing, cruel man who did anything he could to elevate his status. You had heard rumors that, if he could, he'd kill his own brother to become King.

Even Lucerys feared for your safety entering a marriage with him, reminding you that your friendship would be put on hold. But trying to convince your parents to end the betrothal was impossible. It was too late.

Still, Lucerys had persisted.

"Couldn't you be wed to Jace?" He suggested, "He's still nobility. Your parents would be happy, woukdnt they? Please, Y/N, just try."

You raised a brow, "You want me to marry your brother?"

Someone sweet and kind and fun

He shrugged, "I think it'd be quite a nice match, actually."

"It's too late, Luc, I already tried. They'll have my head if I go against their wishes."

With a frown, he admitted defeat, "I just don't want to lose you. You're the closest friend I have. You're like a sister, really."

Pulling him into a hug, you pressed a kiss to his temple, "That will never change, Luc. I promise."

Until you found out that he had died, and your husband had been the one who killed him.

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Nothing made your blood boil more. He would regret his decision one way or another.

-------------------------------

Your handmaiden pulled a velvet black dress over your head, lacing it in the back until it was perfectly draped over your body.

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

It was a bold move, on your part. To wear Targaryen black in a sea of Hightower green. But it was a move you were willing to take.

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

Tucking a dagger in your bodice, you were ready for revenge.

They say looks can kill and I might try

Making your way to the dining hall, you remained stoic even in your grief. You were going to get your way.

Entering the hall, you moved to sit beside Aemond. Normally, he didn't even bat an eye your way. But when he saw his mother's cold hard stare your direction, his shot you a warning glance.

Taking a seat, he grabbed you by the wrist, practically hissing at you.

"You're upsetting the Queen," He said in a low whisper, "Out of all the gowns you have, you chose one so bold?"

I don't dress for women

You played dumb, "Bold? This is one of my favorites. Didn't you know?"

"Remove it."

I don't dress for men

"Right here? I hardly think its appropriate," You replied, the corners of your mouth going up, "No, I think I'll leave it on."

Tightening his grip on your wrist, he grit his teeth, "Now."

And I don't dress for villains

"My life doesn't revolve around you, Aemond," You hissed, "I'll wear what I wish."

"Don't make me ask you again."

The lady simply had enough

"Don't make me say no, then." You said, eyes narrowing.

And crossing all of mine

Pulling you up from your chair by the wrist, the whole table turned to look at the two of you.

While he was doing lines

Aemond forced a smile on his face, "Excuse us, Lady Y/N has some matters she'd like to discuss."

It was so silent that you could only hear the clicking of Aemond's boots against the stone floor.

I'm on my vigilante shh again

Shoving you into your chambers, you fell back onto the floor, catching yourself with your hands. Reaching into your bodice, you pulled out your dagger, lunging towards him with the weapon held high.

He spun you back, kicking your ankle out, and pinned half of your body to the bed, the dagger now held firmly to your throat.

Through bated breaths, tears pricked your eyes, "You took the life of the one person who meant the world to me."

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

"It was an accident."

Grunting, you shook your head, careful to avoid the edge of the knife, "Doesn't change the fact that you didn't, and that he's dead."

He was silent, so you continued, "Let me free. Annul our marriage and I will go without a word."

"A word of what?"

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

You inhaled, "The bastard you fathered with my handmaiden. I'm sure your mother would be delighted to hear of it."

"How did you figure it out?"

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

"It wasn't that hard," You said, "Isn't she pregnant again?"

He loosened his grip, "I let you go, and you go without a word?"

"Not a sound," You promised, "And you're secret—and image—will remain intact."

He groaned, pushing himself off of you, "You're a vile woman, you know that?"

"And you're a sick, twisted man."

The marriage was annulled the next morning, and Aemond explained that your marriage had never been consummated. To tell the truth, he had been too drunk to remember if that had been accurate.

Although he was initially denied the request by Allicent, he reminded his mother that, out of all the women in the seventh, he could find another with more power to her name to carry his children. He didn't want the Targaryen name to be soiled by his wife.

After his mother nodded to Aegon, it didn't take long for the marriage to be annulled. By that point, you were already on your way to Driftmark.

You had left with a small trunk of your belongings, opting to leave anything with a hint of your past life with Aemond behind. No green dresses or hair pins, no Hightower crests.

Knowing your family would refuse to allow you back into their home, you went to the only place that ever really felt like home.

Walking into the keep, you were suddenly overcome with grief. You were in the gardens, where you snd Lucerys had chased each other as children.

The memories, however sweet they once were, now felt painful. You tried to push them away, unable to come to terms with your grief.

Kneeling in front of a stone bench, you traced the spot where your initials had been engraved. He had always felt like a brother to you, and now he was gone.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you, and immediately jumped, the hood of your cloak slipping off your head and onto your shoulders.

Turning around, your eyes met Jace Velaryon's. Surprise settled into your body as he looked down on you.

And she looks so pretty

"Y/N?" He asked, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Jumping up from your spot beside the bench, you wrapped him in a tight embrace, arms thrown around his shoulders.

Your feet dangled off the ground as he returned the embrace, burying his head in your shoulder while supporting your weight.

"I'm sorry, Jace," Your voice was just above a whisper, "I know how much he meant to you."

He just held you tighter in response, setting you back down a moment later, filled with questions.

"How—Why—When—" Jace furrowed his brows, unsure of the reason of your arrival, "Is he here?"

You shook your head, "No, I traveled alone. It'll all make sense soon, I promise. But I need to speak with your mother."

He nodded, "I'll see if I can arrange something later in the day. She's busy at the moment. Please, come inside, it's far too cold to be out here."

-------------------------------

That evening, you spoke with Rhanerya, explaining the events that had brought you to Driftmark. Touched by the love you had for her son, she pulled you into a hug, commending your bravery and sacrifice.

She welcomed you to stay with open arms, and instructed her eldest son to help you get settled.

That's when something in you switched. During the next few months at Driftmark, you and Jace became closer and closer, eventually sharing a kiss in the gardens on the very bench he had found you.

It wasn't even a month later that the two of you were wed in a large ceremony, with the people of Driftmark in attendance.

For the first time since you had been shipped off to marry Aemond, and since Luc had died, you were genuinely happy.

After the wedding, Jace took you back to your shared chambers, kissing you softly, "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I'll be waiting when you're ready."

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

But nothing could keep you away from your husband. Pulling him down on the bed, you consummated your marriage that night. On that same night, unbeknownst to you, you conceived your first child.

The next time you saw your ex-husband, he was in chains in the middle of Driftmark, at the mercy of Queen Rhaenyra. And you were standing beside Jace, his hand on your swollen stomach as she decided his face.

You couldn't help but smile. Luc may not have been with you, but you couldn't have been happier alongside your husband, as the new princess, waiting for the arrival of your first child.

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Gazing up at Jace, he caught your eyes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

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raina-at · 1 year

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Experiments in Compatibility

When Sherlock is 16, he decides he needs to find out what the fuss about kissing is about. So he decides to conduct an experiment.

He can’t imagine kissing a total stranger — the practice sounds slightly disgusting and unhygienic with someone he knows, let alone someone who might never brush their teeth — so he decides to try it out with Victor, his one and only friend.

It turns out to be a grievous mistake. Sherlock likes the kissing fine, he also likes Victor fine. But Victor takes his academic interest in kissing and his non-hatred of Victor’s company as meaning that they’re in a relationship now. Which is fine by Sherlock up to the point Victor tries to stick his hand down Sherlock’s pants, and then it becomes decidedly not-fine very, very fast.

Victor is obviously hurt by Sherlock “leading him on”, but to his credit he tries to get over it when it becomes obvious that Sherlock wasn’t so much leading him on so much as their assumptions about their relationship just didn’t align at all. Also, they’re both sixteen and have no earthly idea what they’re doing.

But Sherlock learns two very important lessons from this. One, experiments with sex don’t mix with friendships you want to keep. Two, friends are harder to find than lovers, so prioritise the friendship.

*-*

All through his twenties, Sherlock only has sex with people he doesn’t give a damn about. He also has enough of it to decide that it’s not for him. The list of things he enjoys is very short, and most people he has sex with have expectations he can’t or doesn’t want to meet.

The few times he’s attracted to someone, the attraction never survives the first sexual encounter, and the process often leaves him either bored, annoyed, disgusted or all three.

By thirty, he decides romantic entanglements are more trouble than they’re worth and any bodily needs he can meet more efficiently by himself.

*-*

John Watson is an asteroid strike right into the center of his carefully crafted self-image.

The attraction is immediate, but he can ignore that easily. If only John wasn’t this… interesting.

John is nice and kind and lonely and abrasive, he’s a killer and a healer, he’s a loner who craves company, a soldier who defines himself by service to a higher good, whatever that may be, whose self-esteem is tied to being useful. He’s a deeply damaged, very intelligent, exceptionally capable man, wearing the skin of the everyman, deeply vulnerable yet outwardly stoic, the very embodiment of the stiff upper lip. He’s reliable and unpredictable, angry and calm, he’s the immoveale object to Sherlock’s unstoppable force.

Sherlock loves him. It’s as simple as that. He falls in love with John gradually, helplessly, with opened eyes and fully aware of what’s happening, yet entirely incapable of stopping it. He loves John intensely, honestly, deeply and — unfortunately — passionately.

He loves the colour of John’s eyes and the smell of his hair and the fine golden hairs on his arms. He loves John’s ugly jumpers and his compact strength and the shape of his toes. He loves John’s kneecaps, his capable hands, the economy of his movements, the expressiveness of his face. It’s ridiculous, and highly inconvenient, and frankly distracting.

He doesn’t know what to do about it. He has several options. He could ignore it and hope it goes away, which doesn’t seem very likely to happen. He could end his association with John, but the mere thought makes him nauseous. He could, to use a popular phrase, ‘make a move’. He’s almost sure that he would be successful — John spends a lot of time staring at Sherlock’s lips, chest and arse — but what then? What if he doesn’t like it? What if he loses interest? What if it ruins their friendship? What if John leaves?

And the worst thing about all of this is that he will never know if he doesn’t try it, but trying and failing could have catastrophic consequences, and not in the usual way his experiments fail. A kitchen fire is inconsequential, even mild chemical burns are of no consequence, but he could end up losing everything.

So Sherlock thinks, and broods, and sulks, and does nothing.

*-*

“You want to tell me what’s bothering you, or do I need to guess?” John says one evening, sitting down next to Sherlock on the sofa. He’s sitting far too close, and he’s wearing a patient expression and holding out a cup of tea.

Sherlock spent the last three days turning around the John Watson conundrum in his mind and is frankly running out of patience. So he snaps, “I’m trying to figure out whether sex with you would ruin our friendship. Thoughts?”

John blinks once. Blinks again. Sets down the tea very deliberately. Blinks a third time. “Come again?”

“Bang on the money, John, yes, we’re talking about coming. Sex. You and me. Having it.”

“I can’t believe you just made an orgasm joke,” John says, apparently still trying to process what else Sherlock just said. “So.” He blinks again. Wets his lips (definitely interested, then). “You… want? To have sex with me?”

“Obviously, otherwise we wouldn’t have a problem!”

“The problem is that I don’t actually like sex all that much, and you obviously love it, given your reputation and the number of imbecilic girlfriends you’ve dragged in here,” Sherlock grinds out between clenched teeth, the frustration of the last few months spilling over in anger that’s probably misdirected at John.

“Um…” Again with the blinking. Sherlock hates himself a bit for finding it adorable. “What’s the problem, exactly? Because you want to, and I definitely want to, so…” he makes a 'fill in the gaps for me’ kind of gesture.

John, fortunately, seems to be extremely flattered and keenly interested in getting into Sherlock’s pants, and is apparently prepared to take his irritation in stride in order to get there. “Okay. Um. So. I think… so you don’t like having sex at all?”

“I like some things fine, others not at all,” Sherlock says, suddenly very aware of how close John is sitting to him, how much of their thighs are touching, and that John’s taken his hand and is rubbing his thumb over Sherlock’s finger knuckles in a very distracting way.

“Let’s start simple,” John says, and there’s a small smile playing over his face, his voice is low and he’s watching Sherlock with an intensity that’s both sexy and somewhat intimidating. “Kissing?”

Sherlock nods, suddenly beyond words.

John leans over and presses his lips against Sherlock’s, soft and tender and oh so good. Sherlock kisses back, and before he knows it, they’re snogging. John’s really good at this, alternating deep, toe-curling kisses with soft, teasing kisses and gentle, tender kisses. Sherlock immediately loves it, wants more, knows he’ll never get enough.

After an indeterminate time, John draws back and smiles. “I think we can work with that, what do you think?”

“But what if I don’t like it?” Sherlock mutters, unsure and hating that it shows.

“Then we won’t do it.”

“But what if I don’t like any of it?”

“Then we won’t do any of it,” John says, matter of fact, as if it’s that simple.

Sherlock’s scepticism must show on his face, because John gives him a reassuring smile. “Look. I know it’s not easy, but do you think you can trust me with this, just a little?”

“Well, since I’m inconveniently in love with you, I suppose I’m going to have to,” Sherlock says,

John grins at him, and Sherlock wonders how he can be this happy when Sherlock is this much of a mess. “Well, I’m inconveniently in love with you too. I think with a bit of experimenting, we can figure the rest out.”

“But you don’t like it when I experiment on you,” Sherlock points out.

“This isn’t you experimenting on me. This is us, experimenting together. Big difference.” John pushes a strand of hair out of Sherlock’s face, a gesture so unsexual and yet so tender it makes Sherlock’s heart melt. “I get that you’re scared. Believe me, I’m scared, too. This is big, and there’s little room for error. But the reward is definitely worth the risk, don’t you think?”

Sherlock considers the logic of what John is saying and decides it’s sound. “You make a good point.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes agrees with me. Truly a special day.”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” Sherlock says, already looking forward to using this technique every time John berates him about setting the kitchen on fire.

“As you wish,” John says with a soft smile and complies.

Thanks for the prompt, @calaisreno! Written for the prompt Experiments.

Tagging a few of the usual suspects: @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk @jrow @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely @catlock-holmes @thetimemoves @discordantwords @the-reading-lemon @khorazir @hotshoeagain @keirgreeneyes and whoever wants to play!

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic #my fic #microfic #may 2023 prompts #experiment

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saerins · 2 months

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Ooo maybe for Bianca and Sae, can you explain a moment when they were alone? And maybe Bianca realizing that she wants something more with him?

extra chapter: more than this

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — part of priceless. sae has never thought of the possibility of being with bianca—until he’s forced to when a kiss proves that this friendship is more than he thought it was.

content: angst. some nsfw references; mentions of penetration. mentions of alcohol. word count: 2.9k

༝༚༝༚ sooo here have some bianca/sae lore hehehe <3 might be useful context for what’s coming up soon so :) just a bit, mwah <3

it’s almost masochistic to have a crush on someone like itoshi sae.

even being just friends with sae isn’t particularly easy for her—not when he’s about as proactive as a rock and as clueless as a baby when it comes to people’s feelings. still, he’s always there for her whenever she needs him, even if she has to explicitly tell him. then again, everyone knows he’s oblivious to anything other than soccer.

tonight is one of those nights; the japan soccer team is in town, and they’re apparently celebrating oliver’s birthday. bianca got an invite, mostly borne out of sae’s pity. probably. she’d called him earlier about feeling like shit; having a career as a model is fun—the glamour, the attention—it’s something she enjoys. being in front of the camera, having someone on the other end try to bring their vision to life by using her, and in turn she can participate in creating something beautiful.

at least, most of the time.

it’s being in the public limelight that’s hard. hundreds and thousands of people all privy to your every move, especially with the presence of the paparazzi. it’s hard, and it’s not something that normal people can ever understand, even if they try. it’s always much worse than they expect. especially when there’s negative comments about you pouring in on the internet, most of them untrue, or even when the internet loves to pit her against other people as if it’s a damn competition.

that’s why she’s here in the first place, with them in the club while all of them try to get oliver to drink himself silly. they probably won’t let him go until he’s wasted, which is why his manager’s right there to make sure he doesn’t do anything too out of line. (bianca thinks she looks a little too annoyed by him, relegating to the side and texting away at her phone, but bianca’s sure she would be too, in her shoes.)

being in a club with the base flooding her ears and being surrounded by people she barely knows isn’t the worst thing here. the worst thing is that there’s another model flirting with sae since before bianca got here. and she is flirting; with a finger twirling a lock of her hair and her occasionally leaning in towards sae as she laughs, even though sae probably didn’t even sae anything funny. bianca recognises her from a few of her covers.

she’s the one that’s constantly being pit against bianca, so of course she knows.

bianca wonders how sae knew her. did sae invite her?

“oh shit, sorry,” a guy—ryusei shidou, she realises, once she turns to look his way—mutters, accidentally bumping into her side. she’d met him a few times before this, whenever sae would let her tag along during their drinking sessions. “what’re you pouting for?”

“fuck off, shidou,” bianca sighs, completely not in the mood to try and play nice. not when miss rival is whispering something into sae’s ears.

taking the chance when sae is pulled aside by karasu, bianca approaches the girl, a condescending sneer on her face. if there’s anything she knows, it’s how to drive people away. it’s easy—scare them. people scare easy, even if they don’t look like it. the girl only greets her out of courtesy, and just with a simple threat to annul her biggest brand’s sponsorship if she ever dares to touch what belongs to bianca and she knows she’s won.

the girl scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “careful, bianca, just because you’re a nepo baby doesn’t mean you’ll get away with it forever,” is all she says before walking off.

her words mean nothing to bianca. her parents are more than influential in this industry, with lots of connections. it’s not like she’s a fucking murderer. small threats like these are easy to cast aside—all anyone really needs is money, and bianca has plenty.

“oh, hey, did you see mia?” sae asks when he’s back a few minutes later, an extra drink in his hand. “she asked me to help get her a drink.”

of course she did, probably looking to get lucky enough with him tonight. bianca puts on an innocent face, “yeah actually, she said she wasn’t feeling too good and wanted to get some fresh air.”

“oh, okay.” sae accepts it without question, and bianca internally sighs in relief as she takes it as a sign that he probably isn’t even the least bit interested in her.

with a smirk, she takes one of the drinks from his hand, sipping lightly as she looks at him. “guess you’ll just have to drink with me.”

sae ruffles her hair, something that never fails to make her heart flutter. it’s a sign of affection that he only gives her, she’s realised as of late, and she accepts it proudly. she clinks her glass against his, and he begrudgingly takes a sip. he’s not too fond of alcohol, which is why she’s surprised that he even came with them in the first place.

“wanna just go outside and take a walk?” bianca suggests, raising her voice over the music, aching for some alone time with him. it’s been a long day and she’s in dire need of relief.

thankfully, sae doesn’t disagree, silently letting her tug on the sleeves of his cashmere sweater, bianca selectively ignoring shidou’s disagreeable comments. nothing will get in the way of her intended romantic stroll with sae.

and that proves to be right, because sae ignores the calls he’s getting from his friends, settling it with just a quick message—bianca can only imagine he’s typing a curt brb busy before he’s shoving the device back in his pocket.

“feeling better?” he asks, tone low and even, looking at her with eyes that seem deceptively harsh but bianca can see the kindness in them.

she grins, stars in her eyes whenever she looks at him. “mhm, just a little,” she tells him, wondering if he knows he’s the reason behind it. he could do nothing, just be right next to her, and it would make her feel impeccably better.

her fingers slip down from his sweater to his rough, big hands, tugging him towards her as she moves to take a picture of the two of them together. it’s a normal occurrence; bianca loves to take pictures with him—her phone is filled with them. though, in none of them are sae smiling. he’s always stoic and stone-faced and ignorant, just like the candid pictures the media takes of him.

after snapping two pictures, bianca pouts up at him, batting her extended eyelashes at him. “would it kill you to smile, sae?” she’s just trying her luck. really. she fully expects him to agree that it would, like he always does.

he doesn’t.

instead, he sighs, an arm around her shoulder as he smiles, a subtle one, a bare curve of the edge of his lips upwards, other free hand coming up to press on the shutter as he snaps one picture for her. then it’s back to his usual stoic face.

“there, happy?”

the way he says it holds no malice. purely, he just expected it to make her happier.

it does.

bianca has to swallow the lump in her throat, her gut already telling her that sae is treating her like that because he’s her friend, because he’s just being a good friend like he always has been. her wishful thinking likes to think otherwise.

what if it’s possible he likes her? what if she misses this chance and never gets another one?

sae is right there, next to her, his arm still around hers and his face so, so close. he’s just frozen there because he’s waiting for her to actually respond to him. although now he’s just placidly staring back at her, perfectly comfortable in the silence.

this could ruin everything, but bianca can’t help but think of how she constantly has to watch as other girls try to shoot their shot with him. she can’t stop thinking of how miserable she’d feel if sae smiled for someone else.

that’s why she stands on her tiptoes, tilting her head up as she presses her lips against his, eyes closed because she doesn’t want to risk seeing this moment as anything but perfect. her hands timidly grab at his waist, keeping herself close, and she can feel his hands on her hips, although the lack of feedback she receives tells her everything she needs to know.

sae’s arms only glues her in place as he pulls away, confusion clouding his expression as he silently considers what to say in order not to hurt her.

as if bianca’s going to let herself seem even more pathetic than she already is.

she takes a hurried step back, avoiding his gaze. she can’t tell whether he’s mortified or just puzzled. “sorry about that, i was just being emotional over everything.” bianca laughs nervously, hoping it passes off as just a joke, though she’s not sure if even sae is that dense.

sae walks back to the club alone later that night, after seeing bianca off in the cab, minutes after she planted a surprise kiss on him.

“she finally got the guts to do that, huh?” karasu mutters after hearing what sae had been up to.

for the other guys, it seems, it isn’t much of a surprise at all. oliver’s only tipsy, a lazy smirk on his face as he listens, body slumped back against the leather seats. beside sae, shidou scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“bitch even scared mia off for flirting with him,” he spits, finding it incredulous that the friend he brought got so easily intimidated off by her. it’s news to sae, though. “maybe keep her in check, will ya?” shidou huffs, downing the shot in front of him.

for the most part, sae remains silent as the others weigh in on the situation, ranging from passing comments to affirmations that they knew all along how bianca felt about him. it’s not something he even stopped to consider until tonight, when all of them are asking if he feels the same. he can’t even give them an answer, shrugging at the thought.

“i’m curious though, at any point, did you ever wanna fuck her?” karasu asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“huh?”

oliver sighs, leaning forward from across the table, elbows resting on the surface. “just imagine,” he drawls, exhaustion being lifted off his shoulders. “both of you in a hotel room after drinking, her hands all over you, bouncing on top of you with her tits in the air—you want that with her?”

it’s a vivid imagery that he never really even thought of before tonight.

“c’mon, don’t even wanna feel how her pussy clenches around your dick when you fuck her?” oliver teases, not even needing sae’s answer to know how he feels.

sae only sits there, taking all of this in without a single change in the beat of his heart. anything he’s ever done or felt for bianca has been within the realms of friendship. nothing more—at least, on his end. he tells them all the same thing, though most of them seem to doubt it.

shidou’s not particularly interested, muttering on about how she needs to learn her place and stop with her antics.

even if the answer is clear to him, the topic sticks with him all through the night until he falls asleep. she’s his friend, an important one, considering how she’s one of the only people he doesn’t find exhausting to be around.

that thought settles itself into the crevices of his mind even the next day, when bianca asks to meet.

sae knows he isn’t any good with feelings, but what he does know is that there is nothing worse than burying the topic and leaving it for dead. even if he has to lose a friend, he has to talk to her about it.

inside the cafe where bianca had proposed to meet up, she sits in the far corner, away from the windows and from prying eyes. her feet taps nervously against the floor, biting on her inner cheek as she wonders if she potentially ruined anything between them. it was her fault for getting carried away.

bianca finds she’s right; she might’ve potentially ruined it all because the moment sae walks in and takes a seat across from her, he asks whether she has feelings for him. if lying was an option, she would, because she feels her grip on him slipping as more of the truth spills out. but she can’t lie to him somehow. not about this.

“and if i say i do?” her voice is weak, timid. she hates sounding like that, but what else is she supposed to sound like when she’s so afraid of losing the one man who’s been treating her right in every single way?

sae takes a deep breath, his will quivering slightly as he looks at her hurt expression. “did i…” he trails off, thinking of how to phrase it properly. “i didn’t mean to lead you on.”

it’s laughable how completely sure he is of his feelings. bianca feels like this is all some nightmare that she has to wake up from.

“do i even have a chance?” she ponders, out loud.

“i don’t wanna say anything i can’t promise,” sae says, trying to shut it down but bianca has other things in mind.

she smiles, softly, slowly lifting her head up to meet his gaze. “then… could you at least let me try? at least consider me for a while?” there’s nearly tears in her eyes, a vulnerability she will ever only let sae see. the rest of the world can burn if they ever want to see her this way.

sae furrows his brows, knowing that logically it isn’t such a good idea. but bianca’s insistent, and he thinks does he have any right to stop her?

“if i decide to try, it’s my decision,” bianca tells him, unwilling to give up just like this. “could you just… leave me be?”

she’ll do anything. anything, to not let her efforts stop here in vain. one day, surely, he’ll reciprocate, because she doesn’t think there’s anyone else that can come close to her position in his life. one day he’ll come to his senses, and until then, she’ll have to keep trying, and she needs to try to get him to keep his mind open to her. to the possibility of them.

sae averts his gaze, looking to the ground at his side, another subject lingering on his tongue. “if i let you be, could you answer my question?”

bianca feels the hope bubbling inside her again. her eyes light up, nodding. “what is it?”

“did you try to scare off every girl who tried to be friends with me?”

because after some thinking last night, sae realised why most girls he ever met for a second time, mostly on set (because there’s none he knows personally), have made comments about how they hope they didn’t make things awkward between him and bianca. of course, he never bothered asking, thinking they were just part of things he didn’t want to understand.

now, the pregnant silence that falls in the air seems to tell him her answer. in front of him, bianca looks like a child that got caught and is about to try and wriggle their way out of it.

“can you promise me one thing, then?” he asks, and she meekly stares back at him, urging him to continue. “could you try and stop doing that? if you ever feel bad or whatever about it then just talk to me. we’re at least friends, right?”

bianca bites on her lower lip, her emotions flying all over the place. “but what if… i don’t want to see you with anyone else?”

it’s a difficult topic to be talking about all of a sudden, but sae knows it has to be done. he can’t ignore this and continue on like nothing’s changed. “you know… it might happen though, right?” he tells her, as gently as he possibly can. “if i still don’t see you that way then… it could be someone else in the future.”

bianca keeps her lips shut, then, still trying to process a future where that could happen.

sae leans forward slightly, keeping his voice down. “if i do happen to meet that certain someone… i’ll tell you, okay?”

it’s probably a cruel thing to do, he feels, but going by bianca’s personality, if they’re still friends by then, it’ll be worse if she has to find out through the tabloids or word of mouth. in a way, he still thinks of her as one of his best friends. even if things are a little complicated between them now, he thinks he owes her at least that, after all he’s asking of her.

bianca nods slowly. she lets herself submit to whatever he says for now, and she’s sure he probably thinks she’ll give up after a while—but she knows she won’t. the day he tells her about that certain someone probably won’t come, and the reason’s pretty simple.

she’ll have to be that certain someone. and she will be. she has to be.

#idk how to tag this lmao #i’m just gonna #re: priceless #૪ aeri’s fics !#itoshi sae #itoshi sae imagines #sae imagines #sae angst #blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock angst #bllk angst

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