#( your brother is an idiot emma )

[dirt-str1der]

I dont care about majima x sagawa btw but i care a lot about their relationship regardless because i want them to have the most toxic dealings and skewed power dynamics with each other as possible and i them both to have increasingly warped perceptions of each other (worlds most incorrect uncle-nephew relationship)

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t know if I’m terminally online (I haven’t gotten out much all winter tbh) or if I just get stressed about online “debates”, but whoever said that “phones never appear in our dreams” is wrong. I woke up twice thinking someone replied to a comment I made yesterday with something weird, only to realize that I had not actually grabbed my phone off my nightstand, checked it, and then fallen asleep again

[senseimercy]

@venustrape ; emma    /    𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟 ; 𝗔𝗖𝗖𝗘𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚.

    "    𝘄𝗲  𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁  𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗺  𝘁𝗼  𝗴𝗲𝘁  𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴.    𝘄𝗲  𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁  𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽  𝗮𝗿𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗴  𝗮𝗻𝗱  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝗸𝗶𝗱𝘀  𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸  𝘀𝗼  𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱  𝗮𝗹𝗹  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻  𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲,    "   johnny  explained,  not  really  looking  at  emma  as  he  spoke  because  it  wasn't  exactly  the  whole  truth.   things  had  been  different  between  him  and  daniel  since  that  night  that  they  had  fought  with  kreese  at  the  dojo,  the  night  he  almost  died  again  because  of  kreese,  the  night  that  things  had    𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗱    in  a  way  that  they  had  not  expected,  the  night  he  had  finally  stepped  up  and    𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗱   how  he  felt  about  him.   something  he  hadn't  even  admitted  to  anyone  else  and  all  it  took  was  one  day  with  ali  mills  to  see  right  through.   oh,  emma  was  gonna  rip  the  shit  out  of  him  when  she  finds  out  that  he  was    𝗶𝗻  𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲   with  daniel  larusso.   though  something  told  him  that  she  probably  already  knew  that.   but  she  would  probably  have  a  good  laugh  knowing  that  even  though  they  were  arguing,  they  still  couldn't  help  but  fall  back  into  bed  together.   he  sighed  softly,  moving  to  the  fridge  to  grab  two  beers,  one  for  himself  and  the  other  for  emma,  holding  it  out  to  her  as  he  looked  up  at  her,   "   we're  just  too  different.   we  have  different  ideas  of  the  way  the  dojo  should  be  run  and  i  don't  know  how  we're  gonna  do  this.   the  only  thing  we  can  agree  on  is  that  kreese  and  cobra  kai  needs  to  be  stopped,    "   johnny  admitted,  shrugging  his  shoulders  as  he  opened  his  beer  and  took  a  long  drink  of  it,  unsure  of  exactly  what  he  was  hoping  for  here.   he  was  just  venting  to  his  sister  and  hoping  that  maybe,  just  maybe,  him  and  daniel  could  actually  make  this  work,  in  more  senses  that  one,   "   i  just   .   .   .   he  drives  me  fucking  crazy,    "

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves. 

“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod. 

“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”

“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did. 

“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”

“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised. 

“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”

“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat. 

“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”

“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.” 

“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice. 

“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”

“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”

“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle. 

“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”

“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought. 

“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”

“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”

“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”

“I guess that’s an improvement.”

“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”

“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“So, you guys are talking about the future?”

“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”

“And how is that going?”

“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”

“Can I make an observation?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”

“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”

“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”

“Javy—”

“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”

“I’m just trying to protect her.”

“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”  

“Why my mother?”

“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.” 

“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”

~~~~~

You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual. 

But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.

Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date. 

- J

Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him. 

“Morning. How was your run?”

“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”

“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”

“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him. 

“So, what are we doing later then?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”

“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower. 

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in. 

Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.

“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”

~~~~~

You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure. 

“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”

“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”

You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat. 

“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road. 

“It’s a surprise.”

“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat. 

“It’s not too far.”

Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it. 

“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else. 

“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse. 

The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them. 

“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu. 

“What are the top three?”

“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort. 

“All in one sitting?”

“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”

“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders. 

“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”

“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile. 

“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”

“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned. 

“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”

“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”

“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”

“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”

“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought. 

“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”

“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back. 

“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”

You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice. 

“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”

“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”

You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot. 

“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”

“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked. 

“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car. 

“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“It could be.”

Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back. 

“And my chances now?”

“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt. 

Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own. 

“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips. 

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.

“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”

“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest. 

You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him. 

Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed. 

“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels. 

“Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.

“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back. 

You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest. 

“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you. 

“Okay.”

You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest. 

Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile. 

“Are you alright?” he asked softly. 

“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”

“I haven’t lost my touch then?” 

“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips. 

After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.  

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you. 

“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him. 

Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.

You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”

“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”

Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.

~~~~~

When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true. 

“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention. 

“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed. 

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.” 

“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”

“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.” 

“How slight?” 

“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.” 

“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork. 

A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him. 

“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”

“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.” 

“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

~~~~~

You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them. 

Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .

You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it? 

Jake got a card from his mom. 

Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home. 

Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone. 

And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.

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[lauraneedstochill]

Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it’s just silly fluff author’s note: this was inspired by “Crazy, stupid, love”, particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story (also, I may or may not have a thing for men’s hands... you’ve been warned)

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don’t really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

“If you don’t stop, I might bite your hand off,” she says, sitting across the table.

“Then I’ll use the other one,” you huff but pause your fidgeting. “Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good.”

“But I like your head very much,” she pouts. “Is this about Thomas again?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can’t stop thinking about his words.

“He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know,” you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

“I hope he won’t.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!” you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man,” her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

“Mar, you know I don’t have much of a choice,” you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. “He isn’t that bad, really. He’s always been kind to me.”

“Sounds like every girl's dream,” she rolls her eyes. “And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?”

“What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I’m clearly missing something,” you cross arms on your chest. You know she’s right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“All I’m saying is that for as long as I can remember you’ve always dreamt of something more,” she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?” you giggle at the memory. “You’ve got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story,” there’s a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

“And you think Thomas is not the one?” you sigh.

“He’s epically boring at best,” Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. “I know he’s not the one — and you do, too.”

“My parents approve of him,” you try to argue, but she’s quick to object.

“They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it,” Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

“You are aware that I can’t wait forever, right? I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor smarter,” she snickers.

“Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of ten-and-two,” you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

“Fair,” she beams, and you can’t stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

“Maybe the concept of love is overrated,” you ramble. “It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I am growing older, it’s getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I’m trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away,” you quote your mother. “Yet all of them just make me feel nothing. At all. And I—” you realize that Margaret isn’t listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. “Hey, I’m pouring out my heart of gold,” you hiss, and her sight shifts to you.

Before you can question her behavior, she informs. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you.”

“Margaret, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about my future,” you fight the urge to turn around.

“Maybe this is your future!” she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

“We are in a tavern out of all places! I’d rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one,” you’re about to scold her, but your friend’s eyes go wide.

“His hair,” her voice is barely above the whisper. “I can make out the strands of silver,” Margaret slightly leans towards you. “You know what that means?”

“That you had too much wine? Mayhaps we should head home,” you suggest, but your friend protests.

“Sit down!” she shushes. “He is coming over here,” Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you’re too tired to play along.

“Mar, it’s been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man’s arrogance and...,” you don’t get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought. 

“What if a man entertains you?” his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don’t want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He is taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it’s not hard to guess that he’s a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don’t stand up in his presence.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine,” he is only looking at you.

“We just met, you should not jump to conclusions,” you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

“Sharp tongue,” he notes.

“Will this be a problem?” you challenge him.

“On the contrary,” it sounds like he’s actually enjoying it.

It is tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there’s no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

“What brings you here, if I may ask?” you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

“It is a nice tavern, wouldn’t you say so? Since you are here, too.” 

“No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could’ve graced with your presence.”

“Something must’ve caught my eye,” he says, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Some thing? Well, the interior isn’t very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that.”

“You aren’t being very agreeable, it seems.”

“That’s what servants are for, and I’m not one,” you’re being defiant yet it doesn’t bother him.

“Please, do tell me more about yourself,” he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

“Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space.”

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

“I think we have that in common,” he bites back, but there’s no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don’t take offense at his wit.

“Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?” you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

“I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think,” you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

“You don’t trust people easily, do you? How’s that for an observation,” his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

“Men,” you correct him. “I don’t trust men.”

“Any of them dared to break your trust?” he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

“That would’ve required them to gain my trust first,” you retort.

“And what would it take for me to do so?”

“Do you expect me to make it easy? That’s not very observant of you,” your grin matches his own.

“Nothing good comes easy,” he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. “But I expect it to be worth it.”

You feel a pull toward him, something that’s hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn’t intimidating but rather attractive, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can’t throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

“That is enough entertainment for today,” you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” the blond comments.

“You should manage your expectations.”

“Maybe I should manage yours,” he has some nerve. 

“That would be very time-consuming,” you suddenly realize that he’s sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn’t going to move.

“Are you in a rush?”

“I am” — “She isn’t,” you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

“Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?” he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

“Does this usually work for you?” you get up, thinking of a way out.

“You tell me,” he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

“Cornering women in taverns is your way of courting?” you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. “And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?”

“They come voluntarily,” it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. “I happen to live nearby,” he notes casually.

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

“Want to bet?” he sits up straight.

“And what do I get out of this?”

He looks you up and down before answering:

“Me.”

He’s pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That’s when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

“Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?” you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he’s now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you are not going anywhere. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don’t have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive,” you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret’s face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

“I need you to explain what the h—” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“Please, don’t,” you snarl. “Don’t say anything, just give me five minutes.”

You can’t even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you are dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you’ve learned — and it wasn’t that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn’t stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn’t want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn’t talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can’t stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don’t know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn’t seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he’s agitated, and it looks weird. That’s also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven’t done much kissing after that. You wonder what it’s like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

“I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement,” he starts his pompous monologue, “that may not come as a surprise to some of you.”

You cautiously look at the door.

“But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods.”

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you’ve known Thomas, he’s never been to the Sept once.

“And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

“May I have a word?” you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

“It is about your speech,” you clarify. “It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um,” you’re trying to formulate your concerns. “I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say,” you give him a tight smile.

“Oh,” his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. Oh?

“I am actually glad you asked,” he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

“You know, you’ve been a great companion of mine,” his voice is as weak as his smile. “And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy,” his hands feel like jelly, and you don’t want to hold them. Like, ever. “But now that I’m choosing to follow my destiny,” you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. “I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us.”

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

“You need... some time?” you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. “You? Need to think about us?” you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There is a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can’t control it as you’re overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There’s no way you’ll ever marry this man.

“I am the one who should be glad, Thomas,” you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. “Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

“Where are you going?!”

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

“I have a meeting, it’s of great importance,” you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it’s already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you’re torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won’t be there. That he doesn’t remember you. That he’s with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he’s sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond’s lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it’s the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

“You remember me?” you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

“Still believe that nothing good comes easy?” you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

“Definitely,” Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

“Is the bet still on?”

“Yes,” the corners of his mouth curl.

“Lead the way, then.” By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can’t tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

“You need to get out of these,” he points at your coat and dress. “They’re soaking wet.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me naked?” you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he honestly states. “I’ll fetch you a shirt of mine.” Sensing your doubts, he adds, “Don’t worry, it is long enough.”

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It’s spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

“You take interest in philosophy?” his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

“I do, indeed,” you confess. “And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart.”

“You can take mine,” Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

“Shouldn’t you change as well?” you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head.

“No need.”

“Oh, was it the Targaryen’s dragon blood that helped you dry up?” you tend to jest when you’re nervous, and right now is no exception.

“My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too,” his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back. “Thank you for the shirt.”

“It looks really good on you,” the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh.

“I must admit, I like this way of courting better,” you place the book back. “But you can cut it short. What’s your move?”

“My... move?” Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“Yes, your big move. Show me,” you request eagerly.

“Don’t know what you're talking about,” he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

“What do you usually do to impress a lady?”

“I don’t really need to do anything,” Aemond shrugs.

“What a humble individual you are,” you chuckle and give him a minute to think. “So what is it?”

“I just told you...,” it seems like he’s trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

“Oh, come on! You princes always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big,” he snorts. “No? Try to win her over with your...,” you gesture at his bookshelves, “...precious collection? Although it’s risky because what if she’s not into reading, that would be awkward,” and then it hits you. “Wait, it’s the dragon, isn’t it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it’s well-fed, though, otherwise you’ll have a date with a roasted —”

“It’s my sword,” he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

“Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth—”

“Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with.”

“That description didn’t help,” you tease, and he groans.

“You know what I mean,” Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can’t take him seriously.

“I do, you just look really charming when you are embarrassed,” you say cheekily, which makes him huff. “My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?”

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in.

“I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them,” he talks with his hands when he’s uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” Aemond nods.

“They watch you train, and that’s what does it for the ladies?”

“I don’t know why, I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, someone should. Can’t imagine it ever working on me.”

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You’re standing a few feet apart, and he’s yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

“I’m not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain,” he concludes.

“But it’s not about the place, is it? Must be something about you,” now you’re the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

“I don’t have a sword on me.”

“Opt for something smaller, I am sure it will do,” you hint at the dagger that you’ve seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it’s the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you are focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He’s maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

“Are you weak in the knees yet?” his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you’re surprised you are not sweating yet.

“Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?” your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn’t budge. For a short while, you’re taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you.

“Wait, how many ladies were here before me?”

“I never said I take them here,” he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

“But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them.”

“In the training yard, with other people around us, yes.”

“So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel,” his actions confuse you, but while you’re looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

“It would’ve been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them,” he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It’s the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you’re the one at fault. But you aren’t — and he isn’t, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

“I shall consider myself lucky, then,” you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

“You are... something else,” Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn’t used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face.

“Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?” Aemond narrows his eye.

“I never said that,” you smile coyly. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder.”

“I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve,” he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can’t stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

“Don’t,” you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn’t fight it. You would’ve been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn’t completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It’s cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There is a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that’s close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that’s been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

“Wow,” you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

“...What?” he manages to ask.

“You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?” you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue.

“A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I’ve heard,” you can almost feel him swelling with pride. “He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible,” your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

“A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn’t averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would’ve been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure,” you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. “Yet I am the one who’s been honored to see all of him,” you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to pick which one I like more...,” you are barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He’s been holding back the first time, but he isn’t now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

“Was that impressive enough?” he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

“Yeah-yes. Yes, very,” you utter, at a loss for words.

“Good. Because I’m about to outdo myself,” he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

[gatitties]

I've had this idea for a few days now and I was wondering if u could write it? Preferrably headcannon form

Fem reader (15yrs) who's close friends with the toman captains has three older brothers who are leaders from different gangs and two younger brothers who are actually in toman. Despite being so they managed to stay as regular siblings (petty arguments, stealing eachothers bikes, playing pranks on eachothers gangs)

Basically the siblings treat the delinquent world as their own playground bc of the amount of pranks they can cause on eachothers gangs without getting in trouble

─Tokyo revengers x fem!reader

─Summary: Your whole family is involved in gangs, except for you, however all your relationships are with these idiots who love to cause chaos wherever they go, you don't complain though.

─Warnings: none

─ You are not involved in the gang world and yet your name is known by all gang members.

─ How could it not be? Three of your older brothers have their own bands, known for certain aspects, and, on top of that, your two younger brothers are part of the well-known Toman.

─ Because of those two devils and your closeness in age to them, you know the captains of Toman, you forged a friendship with them by brute force because you are in the entire epicenter of gang shit.

─ Your brothers will simply cause problems from here to there, some arguments between them or external people, but you are always there to calm the atmosphere, effectively, you are the comic relief in most situations.

─ But don't worry about threats from other gangs that have some modicum of hatred against your brothers and friends, the threats (and fists if necessary) will fly from one side to the other if someone even mentions that they want to use you as a double-edged sword against them.

─ You are constantly being dragged from one place to another.

─ Mikey will take you for a walk with Draken.

─ Mitsuya will ask you to help with her sisters or to be a model for his desings.

─ Takemichi will ask you for help with Hinata but you will always tell him to talk to Emma, she would be more help than you.

─ Pah and Peh will try to convince you to accompany them to beat up some punks.

─ The Wakata twins will drag you throughout the district to find the best ramen shop.

─ Baji and Chifuyu will drag you to all the animal shelters to help a little.

─ Your two little brothers will ask you to watch them fight to find out who is stronger of the two.

─ Your older brothers will take you to their meetings or convince you to steal another of your brothers' motorcycle, which ends in a race and you screaming for your life.

─ Definitely no day in your life is boring with all these people by your side.

─ You also made friends on your own, it's not surprising that they are from other gangs… Kisaki thought that it would be flattering to have a good relationship with you because of your influence and your brothers, which led you to spend time with him and Hanma.

─ The Haitani brothers heard a lot about you and of course they were not going to stay with just the rumors when they could go see you with their own eyes, God willing that the day they decide to come see you, you are not with the Kawata because it will become a war.

─ That's when you decide to call another of your contacts, Izana, usually accompanied by Kakucho, at first they were thinking of using you as blackmail to bother Mikey, but one of your brothers went ahead and threatened them, then they simply kept you as another friend.

─ You have an weird relationship with Taiju because one of your brothers gets along well with him but it is simply awkward when your brother leaves for a few moments, leaving you two alone in an awkward silence, you definitely prefer Yuzuha, she is your favorite Shiba.

─ Quite the opposite of South, who appeared much friendlier (a little threatening due to his expression) when another of your brothers introduced him to you, however he was a good guy to you, he makes you try Brazilian food so that you can give your opinion on its gastronomy.

─ At the moment everything seems like a playground where your family has the corner of the sand that everyone wants, despite the differences between some of the gang members, everything was relatively calm, but who knows what the future will bring for you linked to so many criminals?

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Headcanons if Avatar!Grace lived and raised Kiri alongside the Sullys and adopted Spider:

"Jake Sully, I know damn well that you didn't just ground your son for recklessness! 'You wanna hear about reckless? How about the time you taunted a baby hammerhead titanothere and its mother before being chased into the jungle by a Thanator like the asshat you are."

Spider is depressed because Neytiri has yet to warm up to him. Grace gathers him up like he's still a baby and since she's a Na'vi and he's a human, it's so easy to do: "Give her some time, kiddo. Neytiri has lost more than most to the Sky People. In the meantime, go find your sister. I think she's been wanting to show you her newest verse in her songcord."

"Neteyam, sometimes you gotta just ignore your father. He's a jarhead. No. I'm not telling you what that means."

Kiri when she's vocal about her insecurities and how she feels different from everyone else. Grace silently listens before saying: "You hear Eywa? Normally, I would call you crazy from a scientist's perspective... but after what Eywa has done for me... After she saved all that I am in this body while the human one died, and after she gave me you, I don't think it sounds as crazy anymore. You're a miracle, baby. My sweet little miracle. You and your brother are so special, and any moron who says otherwise must have a death wish."

Ever watch Once Upon a Time? Remember this scene between Regina and Emma? ⤵️

Quaritch: He's my son-!

Grace: HE'S NOT, HE'S MINE!

"Jake, Lo'ak came to me traumatized because he walked in on you and Neytiri."

Jake: It was an accident. But at the same time, he can't just walk in without announcing himself.

"No? Huh. That's funny. Hey, I think Norm should go talk to your son about the time you wheeled in on him and Trudy--"

Speaking of Norm, Grace has a hard time being able to fit herself in their portable biolab due to the size so Norm and Max build a large greenhouse and lab meant for Grace's new height difference. They can't change the fact that the microscopes are still too small for her hands, however.

"If my hands weren't capable of crushing the damn thing I would've done it myself instead of letting you idiots tamper the samples with your saliva AGAIN."

She still teaches all the village kids how to speak English among other human customs. A new school is built in the mountains and Tuk is her best student, obviously.

Grace vocally admits she prefers Jake in a wheelchair because he was easier to push around. To which Jake responds: "Woman, you know damn well you still push me around."

Here's some more angst: Kiri and Spider are arguing and I believe this scene comes from the live action Mowgli movie:

Kiri: You're my best friend, Spider. I understand what it's like for no one to want you. I don't have any friends neither. But we have each other and we're like the same--

Spider: We're not the same.

Kiri: We are. Because- you're special, and I'm special--

Spider: WE'RE NOT SPECIAL! Don't you get it?! We'll never be one of them! We're freaks! You're not special, Kiri! It's just something Mom tells you to make you feel better about yourself BECAUSE YOU CAME OUT WRONG!

(Side note: Wow. I just made myself cry.)

Grace would be beside herself. She's trying to comfort Kiri after the fight and trying to figure out what to do with Spider. She knows she should ground him, but at the same time, she knows where he's coming from and why he finally snapped. With Quaritch hunting them and likely trying to take Spider back, the boy is beyond stressed on top of still trying to fit in.

Lo'ak ended up being the one who got Kiri and Spider to make up after giving each other the silent treatment for a week. Lo'ak understood them better than Grace ever could.

Grace, with Rotxo, probably: If you break my daughter's heart, then I'll break your tail.

Jake is trying to get his whole family to behave alongside the Metkayina so that they could stay there and not get kicked out. He didn't realize he'll have to make GRACE AUGUSTINE behave on top of that.

Ronal and Grace have MAD respect for each other you can't convince me otherwise.

I NEED to see Avatar!Grace riding a skimwing with the brightest smile on her face that would be so amazing.

Tsireya buddies up to her immediately, sticking to her side like glue and asking a hundred questions, usually followed by "Can I take Kiri and Spider swimming?"

Ao'nung keeps a good several feet between himself and Grace. He's suspicious and she straightens him out with one glare, ESPECIALLY after he bullied her kids around for being freaks.

Grace even got Tonowari to laugh when she came dragging his son home by the ear for talking rudely to her.

Grace is like a second mom to Neytiri when they're so far away from home.

And finally:

"I'm too old for this bullshit."

Please reblog and add your own headcanons! I need more Grace

[neiptune]

we do fall before we rise

cw: 1.4k wc, female reader, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries/bruising, mentions of slight harassment, friends to lovers, draken is a big dumb soft idiot, miscommunication my beloved. sponsored by @acidsbeats, thank you so much for trusting me with this and contributing to @ficsforgaza!

There’s no reason why Draken would be there, at your friend’s house, in the middle of the night. Something cold and unwelcome would be clawing at your stomach from the inside if you didn’t know how close they’ve always been, Mikey’s sister practically his sister too, the same way Manjiro is his brother.

“What?” crude bluntness shakes you from the numbness, stiffened limbs gaining their mobility once more.

“Where’s Emma?” is the only thing you can bring yourself to ask, tone matching his for good measure. It requires a whole lot of effort not to focus on his busted lip, dark circles underneath eyes that once didn’t bore into yours with such coldness.

“In Roppongi, out for the night”

He’s not asking you to come in but you’re not particularly inclined to leave either, the paper bag in your hands weighing exceptionally heavy.

“Why…”

“I needed a place to stay for a few days. Is the interrogation over?”

Only a few weeks prior to this awkwardly bitter encounter, you would’ve taken his face in your hands and inquired about the dried blood on his swollen bottom lip. Hell, maybe he would’ve come to you. Asked to be taken care of and of course you would’ve obliged, the way you have so many times throughout the years, ever since high school.

But now? Now he’s looking at you like you’re a stranger, someone he’d barely tolerate to share a room with. It makes your blood boil.

“Fuck off, Ryuguji” you push past him and make your way inside an apartment that’s a little yours as well, a safe space that has witnessed your highs and so many of your lows. Including the most recent one.

He may be acting childish but Ken knows better than to protest against your presence there: Emma’s home is your home. He’s the intruder.

“I’m just here to return some clothes” your pitch is as casual as it can be, hoping he’ll keep his distance while you quickly empty the bag of its content. They’re not really Emma’s, they’re yours. But you can’t really fix a laundry with blood-stained clothes at your place, with a nosy roommate, can you? No matter whether the blood is yours or not.

Unfortunately, he decides to quietly follow you to the bathroom, if for genuine curiosity or lack of faith it’s impossible to tell. What you also couldn’t tell, is how stupidly full your friend’s washing machine is: certainly enough for you to drop the white shirt to the floor while desperately attempting to push it in alongside your shorts.

“No, leave it-” it’s wishful thinking, really, the idea that he’d actually listen to you for a change. Draken crouches down to pick the shirt up for you (kindness? Eagerness for you to simply be done and leave?) only to then crumple it in his stupidly gigantic fist.

“Is this… what the fuck happened?”

“None of your business anymore” you snatch the shirt away, heat crawling from the base of your throat to your face as you shove it inside the washer and slam the door shut.

“Are you hurt?” the urgency in his voice makes you look up, mouth a thin, bitter line.

“I’m not”

There’s a storm brewing behind that all too familiar stare, indecision palpable as eyes you miss so badly roam across your features, explore with fierce attentiveness should they find any sign of pain or discomfort in your own stare. But then they reluctantly wander elsewhere, focus on the rest of your frame to make sure you’re not lying. And sure enough, there she is: an imperceptible shadow peeking from underneath long sleeves rolled up for practicality, teasing your right forearm. He doesn’t recognize the shape, can’t quite place it among all the other contours he has mapped out throughout the years. It’s not a mole, definitely not a birthmark. Then what…?

Your panic as you scramble to pull down your sleeve once more sets his instincts ablaze. You know Ken’s hands: they’re big, rough, often cold, capable of great destruction and outstanding tenderness when away from prying eyes. They’re something in between when they grab your arm, force the sleeve up fully as far as it can go, take a look at the bruise. At the threatening outline of fingers he wishes to snap in half.

“Who did this to you?” it’s low, guttural, eyes burning with a fury his tone doesn’t really match. For your sake, as always.

“It’s nothing” you attempt to tame a flame that poses the risk of becoming wildfire “I handled it”

“You handled what exactly?”

“I told you, it’s no-”

“Answer the goddamn question!”

“You’re hurting me, Ken!”

He inhales sharply, eases the hold over your arm immediately. The bruise looks back at him, mocks him, a sour reminder of what he’s always known: you’re a target. An easy one, that is. Your friendship, your loyalty, have always brought more burdens on your shoulders than benefits. Fuck. Who? How many? What did they want? Was it about Mikey, about him?

“Please tell me” he tries to control himself, fingers now closed around your wrist barely kept from quivering.

You sigh, defeated.

“This guy started bothering me on my way home, grabbed me a bit too forcefully. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. So I made good use of the self defense lessons you and Mikey gave me and Emma in high school. Happy now?”

Draken’s shoulder slump.

“The blood on your shirt…”

“Wasn’t mine”

Oh.

The small relief expanding in his chest like oil spreading out over water isn’t enough to satiate the rage. Daily dangers, regular small fucking threats finding you while you wander out in the world on your own. Without him. Because of his dumb fears, blind selfishness and…

“Now you can go back to pretending I don’t exist” your wrist slips easily out of his softer grasp but you can’t predict the way he grabs you by the jaw, forces you to look at him instead of spinning out of his hold.

“Don’t say that ever again”

“Then don’t suddenly act like you give a shit” you bark “it’s been months, Ken. You haven’t talked to me in months”

“I don’t allow myself to give a shit” he’s so close you can smell the expensive cologne he’s been using religiously ever since you gifted one bottle to him.

“What is that even supposed to mean? You were drunk out of your mind and kissed me at Mikey’s birthday party, so what? Is the regret weighing so heavy on you our entire friendship has to be fucking erased?”

“You were drunk enough to kiss me back, I barely had two beers!”

“I didn’t even get to drink, dumbass!”

He pauses, quietly letting the implications of what you have both just admitted sink in.

Draken’s heart hasn’t at all hardened despite all he’s been through. On the contrary: his heart is so tender it needs extra protection, walls and watchmen granting it a shield solid enough to take a few blows from time to time. Yours, however? That was one blow he wasn’t ready to take. Avoiding his best friend felt wrong, yet easier than admitting dangerous feelings that could have ruined one of the few, truly valuable things in his life.

“I think” he says quietly, lets go of your jaw and breathes in your scent, thankful as ever that you didn't run out of the bathroom right away “I’ve been an asshole. I’m sorry”

“Yes, you have been an asshole” frustration stings at the corners of your eyes “couldn’t even tell me you hated kissing me, no, you just had to disappear like a fucking child who-”

“I’m in love with you” the few strands of fair hair he leaves loose frame his handsome face perfectly “have been for a while, probably. Didn’t want to drag you into the mess so I gave you some space. Guess I could’ve handled it better”

You stand still, muscles frozen as you search for the hint of a lie, of travesty, in his softer gaze. All you find is weary sincerity. Suddenly, the memory of all the years spent side by side explodes in your chest like fireworks, warm and powerful. He’s your person, since forever.

“I’m sorry” Draken repets, a plea more than an apology “I understand if there’s someone else or if it’s too late or-”

You take his hand.

“There’s never been anyone else, idiot”

There never could've been.

[xiefuyu]

-- tokyo revengers headcanons

;a/n - I'm already missing them damn.

Being the little sister of Kurokawa Izana in the series “Brother, I’m here”, means…

Having over five more brothers- Mikey, Kakucho, Draken, basically all of Tenjiku and Toman who’s older than you and had the privilege to meet you.

Izana surely spoils the fuck out of you. You want something? Dw, it’s already in your brother’s hands.

The Haitani brothers often borrow you from Izana without his permission because they can and they know Izana won’t say a thing because you are always happy whenever the brothers take you out for a sibling date.

Mikey shares his dorayaki with you and that surprised every Toman founder because he doesn’t do that? Even with Emma? You’re just unique, aren’t you?

Emma once told you that you can act all bratty and everyone will still adore you and get you whatever you want. (you’ll never do that, though, you’re too kind)

Whenever you just want to sit with someone and not talk at all, your go-to is Haruchiyo. You don’t know how he knows but he always has an ice cream ready for you whenever you suddenly sit besides him.

Fun fact: he never wears his mask whenever you’re with him and lets you play with his hair.

Definitely have someone tailing you 24/7 from Toman and Tenjiku if Izana isn’t available to accompany you.

Nevertheless, if he’s not available, it’s always either Kakucho or Mikey with you.

They always fight when it comes to taking you out to spoil you to the point that Kakucho makes a schedule that aligns with your free time.

You still share a bed with Izana because he’s too paranoid to have you not next to him every night where the both of you are vulnerable. You don’t mind, though. You love it!

One time, you came home with your hair braided and Izana stomped his way to where Ran is and demanded to teach him how to braid hairs.

Izana tries his best to not let you get too close with his gang’s activities.

Whenever you go out with a Tenjiku member, they’re not allowed to wear their uniform for your safety and for the enemies’ ignorance.

Izana is your first favourite person, of course! Emma and Mikey being the second (they always fight because of the tie), third being Kakucho and no one knows who your fourth is.

It led to a challenge between the members.

While Rindou snickers at the back because he’s the fourth.

You once made a crocheted plushie of you and Izana and no, he didn’t cry, what do you mean he cried? He’s just sweating from his eyes, idiot.

He teaches you how to play a guitar in exchange. 

You cooked sinigang (a filipino dish) once and suddenly, you’re a one-man restaurant with only sinigang on the menu. Izana sulks because he was gatekeeping your cooking and now the others had the audacity to even breathe after tasting your heavenly cooking.

You got lost once and almost got your brother in jail because he almost murdered the person he assigned to follow you for losing you. Nevertheless, it was a sight seeing Izana sitting like a lost child while listening to you scolding him for beating people up.

Overall, you’re showered with never ending affection from different people.

Takemichi found out that you played a big big role in Mikey’s life to keep him from going insane with his darkness and thanked the heavens for your existence.

@bontensbabygirl

[reallyromealone]

Tenjiku x male reader x Toman part 7

Part 6 🌸 current 🌸 part 8

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

It had been two days of fending off alphas and Shinichiro was ready to throw in the towel when he heard it.

Emma had arrived.

The eldest sibling smiled and felt his body relax slightly, thankfully (name)s heat has subsided considerably to the point he was coherent and he could comfortably leave his sister to deal with the hooligans. The brothers looked on in horror as Emma walked with her two mates, elegant robes and delicately styled hair, pins in it making it look like a waterfall of flowers.

Yazuha and Senju beside her in less frivolous clothes, Senju in a more millantant approach and Yazuha simply preferring simple tastes "you two idiots have been harassing a poor Omega?! Thank goodness Shin kept him away or you guys would kill him!" She chewed them out and no one dare argue with the blond omega who was currently giving the two most feared demons absolute hell on the front steps to Shinichiro's estate, said beta checking in on poor (name).

The three pups perked their little heads up as they smelt the air, takemichi doing a little dance in excitement as he balanced on (name)s knee "Emma!" Koko chewed on his knuckles happily and (name) looked confused "Emma?" He asked softly and the tots smiled "she's our aunty!" And (name) nodded in understanding "can we go say hi?!" Takemichi asked loudly and excitedly and (name) was contemplating, the door suddenly opening with three knocks "not without this... Emma brought it" Shinichiro said kindly and (name) snapped his head up to see a collar with inscriptions all around it "it's one that demons can't snap like thread, it has spells written on it so if one tries to break it... It will cause them harm" he explained and (name) smiled "why don't you three go play and see aunt Emma while I help (name), alright?"

The tots ran off and the black haired demon smiled at them "my... My apologies for kidnapping your pups" (name) said genuinely apologetic and Shinichiro laughed "don't worry about it, an omegas touch is what those roudy pups need" he joked and gently helped (name) put it on, gentle but callused hands touching his skin "I'm also sorry that they dragged you into this, I'm sure "protecting an Omega from a bunch of alphas" wasn't even remotely on your to-do list..."

Shinichiro liked (name), not in a romantic way but... He was good company, hard working and despite it all genuinely did care.

Those idiots didn't deserve him truly.

"Well, I had a few outfits made for you to wear" Shinichiro stepped out and returned with a few boxes "no doubt you wouldn't want to wear the ones previously as those idiots scented it to death"

(Name) felt his eyes water up, never experiencing such kindness from someone who didn't want something back--- hell he wasn't even mad (name) scented his pups!

Never had he experienced this kindness from his village.

"T-thank you..." He managed to choke out between tears and shinichiro held him close, the demon understanding he had gone through great struggles and his brothers clans were absolutely not helping.

By time Emma finished tearing everyone a new asshole, the sun was high in the sky "now... Let me meet him"

Most omegas wouldn't dare speak to alphas like that but Emma was the one entity in this universe that her brothers and by proxy their clans didn't fuck with, parting way for her as she walked in the direction of the Omega "Aunt Emma!" Three little voices chimed out and the blonde smiled at the itty bitty pups "my my~ aren't you three growing like weeds" Senju teased and Yazuha smiled as little Inupi asked to be held silently, lifting the boy "come meet our friend! He's a little weird but he and papa are friends!"

The trio let them lead them through the grand palace Emma grew up in, talking about how "silly " their uncles were and the new game they invented "papa! Aunt Emma is heeere!" Takemichi said happily and Shinchiro smiled as the three women looked at the crying Omega "those idiot's..." Yazuha was tempted to go back out there and lay havoc upon them but held back knowing it would make her beloved Omega upset.

"Truly barbaric" senju shook her head "(name), this is my youngest sibling Emma and her mates" (name) felt at ease with another Omega, he didn't know why he felt so safe but he did and Emma offered him a reassuring smile "I'm so sorry about my brother's, they're idiots" she knew he wouldn't be able to just walk away but comfort is something someone needed especially at times like this.

Emma helped (name) get ready, Senju making him laugh and Yazuha spoke of their trip as the pups wandered off to go play.

(Name) sighed when he was finally left alone in the evening and sat in the gardens to breathe, parts of each clan having to return to tend to things needed.

He heard whispers of some moon, the demons tense as they spoke.

He hoped all would be well.

Mikey was antsy, watching (name) from a distance.

He didn't like his Omega being out of his line of sight for long, especially with threats and whispers in the air. The moon was high when he noticed (name) had fallen asleep on a stone bench in the gardens and decided to bring him back to his room, lifting him and cradling him close "Hmm?" (Name) mumbled glancing sleepily to the blond "don't worry... Go back to sleep" he said softly and (name) subconsciously snuggled in his chest and the smell of matcha and chocolate filled his senses.

[gfmima]

c. 東京卍リベンジャーズ | tokyo revengers + f!reader t. according to him, you have a crush on him!

“‘’m telling you! she’s in love with me!”

“oh, please. when are you going to get it through your thick skull, mikey? you’re delusional.” izana huffs, then stares out of the window to cool himself down.

who?

wondering eyes flicker back and forth between his younger brothers; shinichiro creeps into his seat beside izana. whilst not out of the ordinary for these two to bicker, it still feels nice to be in the loop about the heated — i mean, idiotic — discussion that unfolds right in front him.

“what’s going on?”

“our mikey here thinks emma’s pretty friend has the hots for him.” izana rolls his eyes, as if it offends him to say the topic of their chat.

ah, he remembers it now. 

you were the roommate emma speaks fondly whenever she mentions her time at university. she even invited you to spend the holiday season with their family the previous year and he must say, the whispers were true. you were as pretty as the wild flowers in march, enough for mikey to fawn over and convince himself you were head-over-heels in love with him.

“and does she?”

“ha, as if! she is way out of his league!”

he didn’t want to come across dismissive of his brother and his supposed love life, but he was going to be honest about it.

nose wrinkled, he grimaces when he sees the picture emma sent of you two displayed on izana’s phone screen.

yeah, there was no chance you’d give mikey the time of day. in his defense, you were a smart girl, the sort to have her life planned out and he doubts you’d settle down for guy as free-spirited as him, much less deem him your ‘dream man.’

“say, when she rejects you, can i have—OUCH!”

“she won’t.” mikey scowls and crosses his arms.

“how can you be so sure? has it ever occurred you might be wrong? you guys don’t even talk unless emma was around,” izana taunts, hanging his arms on the table with his chin on his palm.

shinichiro fumbles around in his pocket for a spare cigarette and his lighter.

this conversation was going to take a while.

knowing the youngest out of the three present, the very last thing he’d do is abandon a good fight. even as a small child, mikey was a stubborn creature who didn’t know how to pick and choose his battles. in other words, this was a hill he was willing to die on.

and since you were involved? now more than ever.

from the direction of the conversation alone, shinichiro had become aware of why izana and emma were ranting to him about it for days on end. it was fascinating yet exasperating to watch mikey mistake even the most innocent exchanges as something romantic.

you greet him? you’re trying to get his attention.

you glance in his direction? you’re staring at him.

at this point in time, the two of them were waiting for mikey to mistake your breathing as a plea for his hand in marriage.

“she’s shy! and you just aren’t there when it happens. she’s always trying to talk to me!” he closes his eyes and upturns his nose in a childish way, as if what came out of his mouth wasn’t the most foolish thing he ever said in a span of three minutes.

(izana had to restrain himself from kicking him.)

what he mentioned wasn’t a lie, however, it wasn’t the truth either. you did talk to mikey whenever he visited emma, but it wasn’t anything beyond polite small talk. he must’ve confused your eagerness to fill the awkward silence for real interest. 

a harmless “hey, hi, how are you?” became a turning point in your relationship.

this isn’t to say you’d never like mikey. perhaps in a different situation, one where he didn’t act like a self-absorbed nitwit who believed you wanted to jump his bones, you’d ask your friend to set you up.

anyway, back to the present.

“really? prove it then. call her right now, twerp,” izana dares, causing shinichiro to sigh yet again in exhaustion. was there a chance this would ever end?

“fine.”

always the mature twenty-one year old, mikey puffs his pale cheeks and glowers at him. he was gonna prove him wrong. fetching his phone from his pocket, he types your nickname into his contacts.

he takes a sharp inhale. uh, oh.

his older brothers share a look when he gives off a sheepish chuckle with a close-eyed smile. “heh, i forgot to ask emma for her number.”

“look, t-this is going to be awkward to say but i have some very important news to tell you. i, um, don’t know how else to phrase it—”

“…ah! i get it now. i always knew there was something fishy going on, though, i never thought i’d be correct about it.” ryusei lays on top of the counter, then nods his head at you slowly as if he knew what you were trying to say.

you raise a brow at him.

you glance at the time on the wall-mounted clock in front of you. sigh, your shift was hours away from ending. the fact there were no customers in the store was a giant relief since you needed a moment to fathom how to phrase that he was banned from the pet store.

chifuyu’s rules, not yours~!

(however, it didn’t appear to be a problem for you anymore.)

“wait… you already know?”

“of course, i do! i’ve known for quite a while now.” he stares at you like he couldn’t believe you’d think otherwise.

oh.

your gaze flew to chifuyu to see if you could ask for help but he was far too preoccupied chatting with kazutora to notice the deer in the headlights stare. welp, what do you do now? do you kick him out? can you even kick him out?

you purse your lips and huff under your breath.

“i’m surprised you didn’t tell me sooner. were you scared of my reaction?” ryusei carries the conversation with ease and breaks you out of your short reverie. “did you think i’d… you know?”

frankly, you were actually nervous. from you can remember, he was a former gang member. god only knows the damage he can cause if he was upset.

“a bit. i wasn’t sure how to break it to you, i wasn’t sure how you’d take it!” you let out a shaky laugh. “oh, thank god, you aren’t upset. i-i wouldn’t know what to do if you were upset, i wasn’t briefed on this.”

chifuyu and kazutora stand — nonchalantly — in the corner of the store; not too close, not too far, and definitely not eavesdropping on your conversation. there are a lot of many emotions running through their heads to really get how they felt after what they heard.

they knew of ryusei’s funny misunderstanding, thinking you had a big crush on him. now where he got that idea remains a mystery to them.

he shakes his head and wears a smile unfitting for someone who was just told he was banned. “i-i could never be upset with you! to be honest, i’ve been waiting for this moment… and i guess this means i should finally confess that i feel the same way.”

you scrunch your nose. he wanted to be banned?

“are you high? do i need to call chifuyu?” he places his hand on top of yours to stop you from leaving, begging you to not say another word.

“it’s okay, there’s no need to pretend anymore... i get it, this is too sudden for you. we can always talk about it next time, you know? no pressure.”

you didn’t respond. you also didn’t need to work your brain overtime to have your thoughts confirmed.

behind him, chifuyu mouths, “yes, he thinks you confessed to him.”

[milkyboiiiii]

Hi I’m new to your blog but I loved what I’ve read so far.

I was wondering if I could request how the Haitani brothers, Mitsuya , and Mikey would react if they caught you singing this song randomly

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT886LYLC/

Please and thank you 🩶🩵

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚!

A little suggestive in Rindou's and Mikey's is just really stupid

(Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Takashi Mitsuya, Manjiro "Mikey" Sano)

Rindou Haitani

He just stood there with a blank face looking at you like :| Meanwhile, you have yet to notice him standing there. So you keep singing and dancing to the song. It wasn't until he had cleared his throat that you saw he was there. As soon as you made eye contact with him, your face became flushed. Rindou smirked at you "Margaritas, huh?" You're completely embarrassed now. You barely manage to stammer out an answer "Y-yeah" Rindou walks over to the kitchen and grabs a few things from the liquor cabinet. Walking not too far behind, you question what he was doing. He replied simply "I'm making you a margarita babe" with a teasing tone and a wink.

Ran Haitani

Ran heard you blasting the music from your shared living room as you sang along. So he decided to take a break from whatever he was doing and join in! That's how you two ended up here, dancing like drunken idiots in your living room. Now you also have a video of Ran singing and dancing to the song. He did it better and more over the top than any tik tok you've seen so far, you might post it later or at least send it to Rindou.

Takashi Mitsuya

Mistuya walked into the house as you were playing the song. His cheeks were tinted red as he chuckled "I didn't know that you get that way after margaritas, love" He walks up behind you and hugs you from behind, his arms wrapped around your waist. You jumped a little startled as he holds you in his embrace. "Taka it's just a song" he lightly places kisses on your cheek down to your neck, tickling you slightly and causing you to laugh. " I think I'll still make you two, just in case it isn't just a song like you said" he winks letting you free from his embrace as he walks over to your home bar. "So love, how do you like your margaritas? Frozen or on the rocks?"

Manjiro "Mikey" Sano

Mikey is another one that will join in and dance! Unlike Ran, Mikey has no rhythm and cannot dance for the life of him. He tries and shakes his ass but there's a problem. That problem is he doesn't have an ass he sucks at it, comedically so. He's got his hands on his knees and he's using too much back, and what makes it even better is he seems so confident in himself. You start laughing which gets him upset and pouty in typical Mikey fashion "Y/nnnnn! Quit laughing! You're just jealous of my moves" he says with a little pout. You keep giggling "Yes Mikey, I am"

(You try and get a video to show Emma later)

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (Part 7)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Notes--Johnny is showing his true colors so the story is definitely getting a little darker.

You woke up hungover and embarrassed. 

You were old enough to know better and a mother for Christ’s sake–by all means too old to be making idiotic decisions that could shake the life you had spent over half a decade building. You could hardly remember what had led up to Johnny doing…the thing that he did, but you were sure you didn’t exactly put up a fight.

Tommy walked Emma back to your house shortly after seven, dressed for work. He pulled the makings of breakfast from the fridge, grumbling some nonsense about two full-grown wolf-soldiers eating him out of house and home. You were trying very hard not to do your walk of shame, refusing to look at the chair or the leftover pizza in the fridge. Emma, of course, was none the wiser, curling up in your lap to nuzzle at your face. 

“Did you have fun?” You asked, inspecting her for signs staying up too late. 

Emma nodded, beginning a long play-by-play of the previous night’s events, including a humorous addition of her forcing Simon to teach her card games. “We had ice cream after dinner,” she said, whispering it so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Uncle Tom told me not to tell you.” 

Emma couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. You laughed and tickled her sensitive feet.

You couldn’t believe you had been so weak to let Johnny back in again. You couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said about his reasons for disappearing, and adding sex to the equation could only make things even worse.

“Johnny was out late last night,” Tommy said casually, cracking an egg into a pan. “He left after Emma went to bed.”

You couldn’t help but glance at the chair, trying very hard not to remember Johnny’s voice, wrecked and commanding, or his hands, or his tongue-

“I had an early night,” you said. “Charlie called for a raincheck.”

“Mm,” Tom said. “Scrambled?” You nodded, not missing Emma’s curious look. She really was too smart for her own good. 

The weekend passed uneventfully–you avoided Johnny by packing up Emma and spending a day in the city, finishing up your Christmas shopping in the shiny shops and taking Emma ice skating in the square. He called you once, but you quickly put Emma on the phone, your stomach aching just at the thought of talking to him.

Emma picked out a pair of red and white striped socks and a box of legos as a gift for her father. She was pleased with her choices, and you tried your very best to smile when she displayed them to you.

Johnny wasn’t even going to be around for Christmas, and that was something you needed to discuss with him. Your little girl couldn’t survive off of no letters or calls–after all, it nearly killed you. 

Monday comes with the first real snowfall of the year. You dressed in warm layers, sweaters and soft scarves, Emma’s face pink under the winter jacket you had strapped her in. 

Charlie was sitting by your desk at work, two cups of coffee in hand and your favorite pastry in front of your chair. He smiled as you unwound the scarf from your neck, looking appropriately guilty and embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing you the coffee. “I…it was a dick move. I had a few already and confused the days–I er, I tried to call you in the morning when I had come to my senses but you didn’t answer.”

Honestly, you had forgotten about it completely. You raised a brow at the man. “I took Emma to the city for Christmas shopping. We were busy.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, of course, it’s the holidays. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve fucked things up.”

You searched around for anger, or even mild irritation, but it was gone, used up entirely by Johnny. “It’s alright, Charlie, thanks for the coffee.” Charlie smiled again, relieved. You took a seat at your desk and listened to him chatter about drama with Chris and Jan at the copying machine. 

You watched his hands. They were good hands–man hands, if you will, pale hair on his knuckles and a silver ring on his thumb. Johnny’s hands were wide and thick with dark hair, his nail beds always worn raw from the shift from stubby human nails to sharp claws. 

Why were you comparing? What was wrong with you?

Why couldn’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?

Charlie claimed your attention once more, following you to the carts of books that needed shelves. “I was wondering…I know I’ve acted like a right bastard, but I was thinking I could make it up to you. How does dinner tomorrow sound? I’ll make the food and supply the wine, you just bring yourself.”

You wanted to say no. That meant that you would have to see if Julienne would keep Emma for a few more hours, not to mention your attraction to Charlie had taken a nose-dive when he ditched you the first time. If only your body held all men accountable–your issue with Johnny would be solved overnight.

That was the thing that made you consider it. Johnny. He was your kryptonite, your achilles heel, and you needed to burn his touch off your skin.

“Alright,” you said. “If I can get a sitter for the bear.” “Deal,” Charlie said, grinning. He kissed your cheek gently, mouth warm and chapped.

Johnny texted the next morning, asking if he could take you and Emma out to lunch on your break. He offered to drop her off at Juliene’s house as well, saving you the walk.

You needed to rip the bandaid off. He wasn’t going to stay away forever, and it didn’t matter he had eaten you out while you were very sad and very drunk, you couldn’t keep him away from Emma. 

“Em, do you want to see Johnny today?” You asked, hoping against hope she would shake her head.

Instead, your darling girl perked up, ears twitching as she nodded eagerly. The full moon was coming quickly, so her behavior was…off, her eyes growing brighter by the day. Johnny used to refuse to be around you on the week of the full moon. He disappeared from your house and would show back up a few days later, looking exhausted and on edge, twitching if you tried to touch him.

You sighed. 

Where should we meet you? 

Johnny’s reply was lightning quick. You still like Angelo’s?

Angelo’s was a sandwich shop you used to frequent with Johnny, you hadn’t been in ages. That’s fine.

Johnny texted back something enthusiastic and barely legible.

Julienne had agreed to watch Emma for a couple more hours without irritation, saying she could use the money for a fancy new garden gadget she had been eyeing. You planned on grabbing it for her for Christmas, a token of your appreciation for her help with Emma.

You were going to give Charlie one last chance, if this dinner didn’t pan out you would find some other patsy to take you out every other weekend. 

Johnny was going to be gone soon, after all, and Emma is unpredictable with these things. She could take it as easily as she took the death of her grandfather, or it could be…catastrophic. 

You eyed your phone, forcing yourself to do the hard thing that neither of you wanted to face. 

I was hoping you would talk to Emma about you leaving soon.

There. You said it. You tossed your phone on the bed and finished getting dressed, herding Emma to school before you forced yourself to look at his response.

Of course, hen, we’ll talk about it. 

Work went by quickly in your haze of anxiety. What would he say to Emma?

What would he say to you?

You didn’t expect him to be waiting at Emma’s school. He was leaning against his truck, all twinkly blue eyes and a sharp smile that reminded you that he left for you. Because he couldn’t control himself. 

Johnny was trying to be good. You see it now, you remembered the way he used to follow you home after school, walking close behind you like he thought someone was going to steal you away. He wouldn’t share food with anyone, not even Tom, but if you asked he would always tear whatever it was in half and put it on your plate. 

Johnny and Tom had been playing video games in the living room when you left for your first date. You were sixteen and he had just hit twenty one, and he had looked at poor Dan Hilton like he wanted to rip out his guts and serve them up with eggs.

You had chalked it up to brotherly feelings, or the simple fact that Johnny has never liked to share. 

To see it for what it was felt…odd. You had heard about wolves claiming human spouses, putting a bite on their throat like a wedding band and never, ever letting go.

“Hey,” you said tiredly. 

Johnny straightened–he wanted a hug, you could see it in the way his hands twitched. “I figured I would give the two of ye a ride, yeah? It’s fuckin’ freezin’ today.” “Alright,” you said, glancing at your phone. The bell should be ringing any minute, and Johnny’s attention would be on Emma and not you. His attention was dangerous, it made you stupid and reckless.

“I heard you’ve got a hot date tonight,” Johnny said, going straight for the jugular.  

You stiffened. “That’s none of your business.” “Ach, lass, you wound me.”

“Johnny, the other night…it was a mistake. I was drunk and lonely and you were there.” You didn’t think it was possible to hurt Johnny, but you did. It flashed across his eyes, his jaw tightening into a straight line. 

You felt your stomach twist–god you were handling this all wrong-

He took a step, tilting your chin up with the pad of his rough finger. He wanted you to look at him, to watch his pupils swallow up the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m not a good man, kitty. Hell, I’m not even a man, not really. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll repent every fuckin’ day for it, but if you let him touch you, I’ll gut him like a goddamn fish.” “How dare you-” you began, but Johnny gripped your chin then, pressing the tips of his claws into your skin lightly. “You want me,” Johnny said, his gaze hazy and wild as it dropped to your mouth. “Even now. I should bite you right here, make it real fucking simple for you.”

There it was–the wolf that he had hidden from you for so long, the killer wearing the skin of your brother’s best friend. You forced yourself to hold his stare, feeling the sharp prick of his claws on the delicate skin of your throat. 

“I want a proper husband, John,” you said softly. “I want a real father for my child, someone who will be there for the birthdays and graduations and holidays. I want someone to sleep beside me every night, someone that doesn’t make me do this alone.”

You knew you were driving a knife right between his ribs–you knew how badly this would hurt him. Johnny had spent his childhood not being right for his mother, not being human enough, gentle enough. 

His eyes were so bright and so lost. 

“I’ve been alone for six years, John. I don’t ever want Emma to know what that feels like.”

Johnny was silent, his breath coming fast and rough. “I’ll never let another man have you,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Both of you.” 

He pressed closer, nuzzling your jaw with a low growl. “I’ll be a good mate, hen, I suppose it’s only right that I prove myself before we have our next pup.”

“No!” You hissed, pushing him away. “Enough, Johnny. You’ll be gone soon and I’ll have to deal with the fallout as per fucking usual.”

Your words weren’t working–they were working him up instead, like Emma when she watched the neighbor’s squirrels chase each other in the trees. His heart thudded like a drum under your palm. 

“You’re making a scene, kitty,” he said slyly, tilting his head like he wanted nothing more than to give chase. “Now hush, we’ll talk about this later. Emma shouldn’t see Mum and Dad argue.” You opened your mouth to argue, so furious you could hardly think.  

“Mum?” Emma sang, bouncing out of the school. “Oh, Johnny!” She ran to him, the little traitor. Johnny smiled, his sharp edges softening as he swung her up into his arms. “Ach, my girl’s getting heavy,” he teased, nuzzling her face. She mimicked his movements, her smile bright and happy–they were scenting each other. 

You looked away. “C’mon you two,” you said, forcing your tone to lighten. “I only have an hour for lunch.”

You barely touch your food, your stomach twisting and turning in furious knots. A sandwich, your old favorite, sits in front of you, courtesy of Johnny.

The audacity of men. You were the one who had spent countless nights bouncing up and down the hallway with Emma in your arms, exhausted and sore, your breasts swollen and aching from her sharp teeth–yet, Johnny was quickly a new favorite. They were the same, after all, the same species, the same aggressive, needy temperament.

Johnny wiped a bit of mustard from Emma’s cheek, humming at her irritated whine. She was close to her shift, and her skin was sensitive. “Dinna fash, baby, it’s the moon,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I woke up this morning w’my skin crawling.”

That was another bump in the road. Emma’s shifts had gotten harder and harder over the years, more anger, more pain, and the internet had barely any information about early childhood shifts. Jack hadn’t been concerned, saying Johnny had the same issues at that age–the only difference was that Johnny was a feral little thing that used to sneak out during the full moon and pick off the strays of London. Emma couldn’t bring herself to squash an ant, much less devour a cat or dog–but then Johnny hadn’t had much human influence, at least, not until you and Tommy. 

“Emma, tell your Ma that if she doesn’t eat, we’ll have to feed her ourselves,” Johnny said. He was smiling, but his eyes were sharp. 

Emma sniffed at your sandwich. “You didn’t have breakfast either, Mum,” she said accusingly. “You always tell me food is good for your brain.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”

“Eat, kitty,” Johnny said, his tone rougher as if you were one of his soldiers. “You look dead on yer feet.” You took a bite, just to appease them. You could still feel the small, stinging cuts his claws had scraped on your jaw. 

[tgmsunmontue]

Team Player 1/7

Hangster. Jake's cousin plays for the Sydney Roosters and gifts him with merchandise regularly. Bradley has an unexpected realization.

                Jake opens the gift from his cousin and snorts. He can never wear this.

                “You like it? It’s for the team I just signed with…”

                Of course it is. Fuck.

                “Congrats man, really happy for you. Thanks.”

                “You’ll have to watch a game when you come visit. Wait, do they show footy matches on TV here?”

                “Footy? Jake asks, eyebrow raised, because he thought is was rugby that Josh played.

                “Rugby league. Footy. And we don’t wear all those pads and helmets like you lot do over here.”

                Jake ducks his head to hide a smile, his younger cousin immensely proud of his own country and national sport. Not something Jake will ever understand, but he does understand passion and loyalty.

…            …            …

                “The Hard Deck, what’s that mean?”

                “Well, the way you say it makes it sound like something far filthier than what I think it should mean…”

                “Still doesn’t tell me what it means… Hard Deck Hard Deck Hard Deck…”

                “Oh my god, can you stop with sayin’ that! Sound like you’re sayin’ you’ve got a hard dick…”

                His other cousins snort and he wonders why he thought it would be a good idea to agree showing them around San Diego. Of course, three people in their early to mid-twenties versus their parents who are all in their mid-sixties to seventies he’d felt that maybe they’d want a break from one another. He can’t imagine going on a four-week vacation with his parents. Ever. Let alone as a fully-grown adult. A couple of weeks visiting home is his limit, and even then he has to spend most of the time out of the house and helping out around outside to get away from the oppressive expectation of how he hasn’t brought anyone home. Again.

                “Tell me what it means!”

                “It’s slang for altitude you idiot, now stop being a dick!” Emma says, slapping at her younger brother’s head and Jake wishes he had a closer relationship with his own sister.

                “Well that’s just boring! Hard Dick sounds like we’re going somewhere interesting!”

                “It’s a Navy bar, just… thought I’d introduce you to a couple of my friends.”

                “You have friends?” Isabella asks, and Jake pulls a face. Maybe he’s glad he doesn’t have a close relationship after all.

                “Jake!”

                “Javy, hey. Man it’s good to see you.”

                “You too… these your cousins? Can definitely see they got the better deal in the gene pool…” Javy says, smiling over Jake’s should and he glances back and he guesses his cousins are attractive, except they’re his cousins and he’s seen them grow up through regular photos exchanged via their parents, and this is only the third time in his life that he’s spent any significant chunk of time with them. And of course Javy is already getting flirty with them. Halo and Fritz are there, he can see Bob and Phoenix at the bar.

                “Yeah. Everyone, these are my cousins Isabella, Emma and Josh. They’re currently visiting because of my dad’s seventieth birthday. And don’t let him drink,” Jake says, pointing at Josh. “He’s not legal.”

                “Hey! It’s legal back home.”

                “And Penny here could be fined for serving minors. So no.”

                “Also you’re meant to be preparing for camp, which means no empty calories.”

                “Ugh. You guys are the worst.”

                “I can’t wait for you to meet your trainers, because what we put you through will seem like child’s play…”

                It falls into easy banter, his cousins asking dozens of questions and his squadron humoring them and he takes a sip of beer from the bottle Phoenix hands him.

                Life is good.

…            …            …

                “You want to tell us something there Bagman?”

                “What?”

                She tugs at his top and he glances down, realizes he’s wearing the tank that Josh sent him for working out in. He apparently gets a lot of merchandise and Jake seems to be the person he wants to send it to. Apparently he has a case of hero worship. However this particular top is damned comfortable and perfect for working out in, almost as good as wearing nothing, which isn’t an option at the on-base gymnasium, but he’d just grabbed it subconsciously.

                “Uh, it’s the team my cousin plays for.”

                “And you’re wearing it why?”

                “I like it,” he says, and he mentally hits himself in the forehead with his palm. What the fuck is he thinking. He could have said it’s comfortable, or it’s washing day, only clean thing I had, not… I like it.

                “Really? Interesting. Wait, was this your male cousin? Josh?”

                “Yeah. It’s a rugby team.”

                “Mmm. Rugby is a game to enjoy watching…”

                “What?”

                “No covering up of those athletic bodies, all out on show… Strike a pose Seresin, I’ll send it to you so you can send it to your cousin and show your appreciation.”

                He frowns, because Josh would probably like that, but he’s pretty sure Trace is up to something because she never calls him Seresin. He stands and lets her take the photo though, giving her a grin and a wink, because why the hell not?

…            …            …

                Bradley stares at his phone.

                Stares some more until the screen goes black and he unlocks it and the photo is back.

                Jake Seresin wearing a basketball top, sweat-shiny and winking at the camera, hair dark, damp and mussed from working out. He looks good. That’s all his brain can process.

                Natasha’s message telling him he really missed a good workout at the gym.

                Bradley’s never thought about his callsign as a thing before, as a name that might brand someone as his. He’s never been a particularly possessive boyfriend. Seeing Hangman wear a top with Roosters across the front makes his fingers itch, and not only because he wants to go and add an apostrophe, but because he wants to touch. He’s wanted to touch Hangman before, sometimes to punch him in the face, but mostly to rough him up a little bit… he’s always resisted though, aware he’s got to keep sharp control of his temper.

                Right now it’s not his temper he has to keep control of.

To be continued? 🤷‍♀️

PART TWO

(Obviously the answer to it being continued was 'yes!!!')

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 9

this has been a long time coming but it's finally here! have some simping over lockwood's hands to make up for the wait (there's more next chapter too 😉)

Word count: 5k words

Warnings: swearing, Steph (HUGE WARNING, I HATE HER IN THIS BUT IT'S NECESSARY FOR THE CONTINUATION OF THE SERIES, SHE MADE ME WANT TO THROW UP), a lot of simping over lockwood's hands (also he's wearing a ring), innuendos ig? references to not so sfw times, vague references to body image issues and related things, I think that's it?

family photos and a gingerbread house competition (part 1)

series master list

(couldn't pick between these two so I put them both, you're welcome, also thinking about it they both match the vibes that lockwood has in this part)

“Remind me why we're doing this?”

“Because it's a tradition, Anthony. I would have thought this would be right up your street!”

“Well it is, but I don't see why we have to be stood next to Steph and Linda.”

“That's just Mum's positioning. She says it looks best that way and nobody argues with her.”

Anthony hummed, looking around at the family members gathered in the living room. The fire had been set up a few minutes ago, Ben stacking up the kindling like building blocks and setting some larger pieces of wood around them, striking a match and closing the door. Most people were already ready for the family photo, and Anthony and Y/n were sat on their loveseat while they waited for Steph and Linda to come downstairs. 

Predictably, the two of them were still in their bedrooms fussing about the fact they had to do this, but Emma was taking full advantage of the fact that nobody could leave and had forced them into joining them. 

"I don't know why they're so upset, really,” Anthony mused, trailing his fingertips over Y/n's shoulder. The way they were sat with her curled into his side made it a slightly awkward angle, but he could put aside the pain in his own shoulder if it meant he was closer to her. “I think that you look adorable in that jumper.” Y/n frowned, scrunching her nose up and glaring up at him. 

“Adorable? I look like I've been shoved into a charity shop and been pulled out backwards through the racks!”

“The dancing reindeer really take the cake, if I'm being honest.”

“Stop it. They look deranged.”

“They look happy, darling.” He paused, taking in the wide eyes and toothy grins of the reindeer that decorated the matching red jumpers that the whole family were wearing.  “And possibly like they've seen too many deaths. But they're smiling, and they've got... what is that, chocolate bars?”

“I think it's beer, Ant. The deranged reindeer are drinking beer while they're being wrapped up in a net of Christmas lights.”

"Christmas lights... that actually light up," he grinned, pressing the button on her jumper to demonstrate his point. Y/n sighed, trying to look cross with him, but the small smile on her face gave her away. 

“You're such a ridiculous idiot sometimes,” she said quietly, gazing fondly at him. The lights on her jumper were still flashing, decorating her face in different colours. 

“Yeah, but I'm your ridiculous idiot.” She snorted, then kissed him gently on the lips. If they hadn't been in the presence of most of her family members, Anthony would have held her there for hours. 

As it was, however, she reluctantly pulled away a few seconds later, smiling widely when he automatically chased her mouth. 

“Alright, love birds, stop making the rest of us feel so single and lonely,” Will called out, attempting to sound annoyed. Anthony knew that the man couldn't be happier about his little sister getting a boyfriend, and that he was easily settling in to his newfound role of teasing them about their relationship. 

“Shove off, Will,” Y/n rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at her brother, and he responded by sneakily giving her the middle finger. 

“Right,” Emma declared, looking around the room at everyone gathered. “Where's Linda? And Steph?”

"I think they're still upstairs, Mum," John replied, not looking up from the sofa as he sat on top of Sam and whacked him around the head with a pillow. Sam looked like he was being slightly suffocated under his brother's weight, but nobody seemed to take much notice. The two of them fought like that a lot, and Anthony supposed that everyone was used to it now which was why nobody intervened. 

“John, stop killing your brother for five minutes and go and find them. Tell them they need to come down right away or I'm dragging them. And putting flour in their hair.” John went to complain, but at the glare that was sent his way he quickly shut his mouth and headed out the room, not before delivering one last hit to Sam's head for good measure. 

Within three minutes John was back, Linda and Steph in tow as they grumbled about the jumpers they had been forced into. 

“This is disgusting. And we're all wearing the same ones? Really, Emma? It's bad enough that you made your own sister wear this... monstrosity, but forcing it on all of us? Unbelievable.” Anthony barely hid his scowl as Linda talked down on her sister, and if he didn't think Emma could defend herself he would have leapt to do it himself. 

“You can take it off the moment we're done here, alright? But this is my house, Linda, and you're playing by my rules. It's not like you can go anywhere, so you might as well shut it and take the damn photo with us.”

Linda opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a few moments, before deciding against responding and moving to where her sister had pointed for her to stand. 

“Thank you,” Emma sighed, finishing setting up the camera. “Right, everyone get into position please, no squabbling!”

Anthony smiled as Y/n huffed and stood up, stretching out her limbs after being curled up in his lap for the past however many minutes, and within the next five minutes (that felt much longer than that) all family members present were in the places that Y/n’s mother had assigned to them, and she was clicking the button on the camera to take the photo. She rushed to take her own place next to Ben as the timer started counting down, plastering on a wide smile a second before the flash went. 

“Can we go now?” Steph whined from where she stood to Anthony’s left. She’d had to squeeze in to fit in the picture, and the sheer amount of perfume she had on was making Anthony suffocate slightly.

“Uh, hang on. Let me check that it’s a good photo. Ugh, Tom, honey, you’re meant to be smiling, not staring at the camera like you want to kill it. Let’s try again. Sam, don’t be making stupid faces this time, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” Sam said, stifling a laugh when Will poked him in the side. Nana Jean ruffled Tom’s hair, much to Emma’s chagrin (it had taken her ages to get it somewhat neat), but the action gained a smile in response. 

They tried again, the flash going off a second time, and when Emma gave the all-clear Linda and Steph immediately moved to take off their jumpers. “Hideous things,” Linda muttered, clearly not in the holiday spirit. 

“You two had better not go anywhere,” Nana Jean said, pointing a crooked finger at them when they went to leave. “We’re building gingerbread houses next and if nothing else it’ll be a competition where you can attempt to destroy everyone else, so get your asses in the kitchen!” Anthony had been pleasantly surprised at how much energy the 80-year-old woman had, especially since her knees were basically completely ruined, and he had found himself engaged in lively conversation with her on more than one occasion. She wasn’t entirely fond of Y/n’s choice of work, but from what Anthony could tell that was more to do with the fact that she was very fond of her granddaughter, and would rather not receive a letter in the mail telling her that Y/n was dead. 

“We’ll go together, right?” Y/n asked, looking up at him while everyone was getting into pairs. He was just about to answer when Nana Jean appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. He looked down at her in surprise (she was quite a small woman), confusion all over his face. 

“I’m taking this one, you can go with your Gramps. I’ve never won with him, not once. This’ll be my year, I can feel it! And your lover boy is going to help me!”

“Good luck, Nana. I don’t think Anthony can cook toast, let alone gingerbread.” Y/n was smirking, crossing her arms as she let triumph seep into her expression despite not having started the competition yet. 

“Oh really? You also didn’t think I’d be any good at snowball fights. You’d be surprised what I can do with my hands, darling.” He immediately blushed at the look on Y/n’s face, and steadfastly refused to look at either her or Nana Jean. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, shaking his head and hoping the situation would end so he could go and bury himself in blankets and hibernate for years. He felt someone nudge his side and his cheeks got hotter still when he saw Nana Jean smiling up at him with a cheeky look on her face. 

“I’m sure Y/n/n knows all about what your hands can do, love.”

“Nana!” Y/n cried, exasperation in her voice. “You can’t say that!”

“Well I don’t think I’m wrong! You’ve been together eight months now; I married your Gramps in less time! Come on, Anthony!” She cheerfully turned and headed out the living room, dragging Anthony behind her and leaving Y/n to stand staring incredulously after them.

~~~

Y/n still hadn’t fully recovered from Anthony’s comment (and then Nana Jean’s addition) about his hands, and she was meant to be making gingerbread. 

Her Gramps had settled at the dining table with tracing paper, a pencil and far too many rulers, while she was measuring out the ingredients and mixing them together in a large bowl. He’d been an architect before he retired, helping draw up the plans for the Fittes Building and providing sketches for housing that had helped when people were on the streets at the beginning of the Problem because their houses were unsafe. Y/n had listened to him talking about his job a thousand times, but she still didn’t know what the purpose of all the different rulers were. 

“Gramps, you know you don’t have to get that technical about it, right?”

“Oh yes I do! I’m not letting Jeanie win this year, oh no! She thinks I’ve lost my touch with architecture, but I was doing badly deliberately because I knew, one year, she’d get fed up and go with someone else! She has no idea what’s coming!” Her Gramps chuckled, shaking his head and clutching his side as he thought about how deceptive he had been. Y/n smiled, remembering all the previous years where Nana Jean had become so exasperated at his apparent incapability that she’d given up all hope of winning with him. It had had no impact on their marriage, and the two of them were just as in love as they had been when they first got married, but Nana Jean also had a healthy love of winning things, and gingerbread was one of her specialties. 

“Focus, love, you’re tipping the mix out the bowl,” her Gramps said, nudging her in the arm. Y/n looked down to see the mess that she’d made over the table, and cursed softly under her breath. “What were you thinking about to make you zone out like that?” She flushed, and cast a quick glance over to where Anthony was stood at the island in the kitchen carrying out the same job as her. Without thinking, her gaze drifted down to where his hands were mixing the ingredients together in the bowl, and when her Gramps coughed she snapped her focus back to him and realised that she hadn’t actually given him an answer. Damn her Nana for saying what she said about Anthony’s hands and putting thoughts into her head! 

“Sorry,” she muttered, trying to ignore the weird look he was giving her and the heat that was now permanently in her cheeks. 

“That’s alright, love. Just scoop it back up, like this, there we are. That’s looking pretty good I’d say. Go ahead and add the next bits now, and I’ll finish drawing up these stencils.”

~~~

“What do I need to do now?” Anthony asked, holding his hands just above the bowl. Nana Jean looked over from where she had finished cutting up the last of the stencils and smiled. 

“Ah, you’ve added in the butter mixture, good lad. Looks perfect to me, so let’s get it rolled out and we can start cutting. We need to make sure we get to the oven before Richard and Y/n do, because then we’ll have a head start on the decorating.”

“Alright.”

“You might want to wash your hands first though, what with all that mix on there. Make sure you get as much as you can in the bowl before you go and scrub ‘em.” Anthony nodded, starting to push off all the gingerbread mix that had clung to his fingers while he’d been bringing the ingredients together. He heard laughter from across the room and immediately recognised it as Y/n’s, which was strange because he didn’t think that he’d heard her laugh so unapologetically since coming here. Normally it was forced, or real but contained, and although they hadn’t got along before this entire situation had happened she had still laughed like she was currently (normally when he fell over from tripping on his coat). She was gorgeous when she smiled widely, and even more so when she laughed, and Anthony paused in his actions as he watched her be properly happy around her family for one of the first times this holiday. 

He knew that she got on well with her Gramps, despite his reservations about her job and some of the comments he made about her being ‘too much to handle sometimes’, but clearly they could forget about that when they were baking together, without the pressure of Steph and Linda watching their every move. 

No, Anthony had that pleasure, and Steph’s eyes hadn’t left his face for the past thirty minutes. 

He felt the weight of her gaze now, and after sending a small wave to Y/n when she looked over and saw him (she’d stuck her middle finger up in response, but had immediately blown him a kiss when he acted hurt) he sighed and turned to Steph. “Can I help you?” He asked, resuming his previous actions of taking the gingerbread mixture off of his hands and depositing it into the bowl. 

“I think you can,” she answered, plastering on a sickly sweet smile and slowly walking over to stand on his left. She stopped barely a hair’s breadth away from his arm, and the perfume she had on was swarming his senses and making him want to gag. It was just as cloying as her smile. “See, I’ve been thinking a lot recently,” Steph started, and Anthony bit back his retort of ‘careful, don’t strain yourself too much’ and tried not to flinch when her hand came in contact with his shoulder. “I think that we haven’t really had a chance to… get to know one another. Properly. And I really would like to… get to know you, Anthony.” Her fingers danced down his arm, and he couldn’t help the grimace that came across his face at her tone. He stepped away a little, trying to not knock Nana Jean while still putting some distance between Stephanie and her wandering hands (that had since moved to his chest). 

“I’m not sure I follow,” he frowned, turning and moving to the sink. He’d gotten as much of the sticky gingerbread mixture off of his hands as possible, and now all that was left was to douse them in water. Steph followed him, gripping his arm tightly and restricting his movement. He was too good of an agent to panic - panicking in his line of work meant almost-certain death - but he could feel unease creeping up his spine and a chill working its way into his bones like miasma. 

“Why don’t we take a minute? Out in the hallway?” He really didn’t like the way she’d said that, all low and what seemed like an attempt at seduction (he couldn’t tell because it was so bad, but from the look in her eyes he could make a guess), and he shook his head. 

“I’ve got to stay here, help out Jean. Shouldn’t you be making your own gingerbread?”

“Oh, that thing? No, we never win so what’s the point? I’d much rather spend some time with you… alone.” Anthony finished washing his hands, trying to ignore how Steph’s grip on his arm had somehow grown stronger in the last minute, and turned back to the island. His eyes scanned the kitchen and dining room, desperately searching for someone that would see he’d been accosted and would come to his rescue, but everybody was busy making gingerbread houses. 

“A minute and a minute only. No more than that,” he said, giving in. Steph’s smile turned smug, and she dragged him out of the kitchen, at which point Nana Jean did look up, sending him a questioning look. Anthony mouthed ‘sorry, back in a moment’ just in time before the kitchen door shut in his face. He sighed, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw in preparation for whatever the hell Steph wanted. “Right,” he started, opening his eyes again and looking around for her. “What’s so urgent that you needed to-” He was cut off by Steph practically lunging at him, grabbing his face and pushing her lips onto his. It took him roughly a second to figure out what was happening, and he quickly got over his initial shock and shoved her off. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, looking at Steph with disgust. 

“Oh come on! I know for a fact that you and Y/n aren’t actually together, so what does it matter? Besides,” she continued, sidling up to him again when he took a step back, “I know that deep down you want this, Anthony.” He frowned, both at her words and at how she was still coming towards him, and the previous chill that had settled on him was now a raging storm. He kept it contained, not wanting to cause too much of a scene when anyone could hear what was happening on the other side of the door (that was now blocked by Steph), but the anger was evident when he spoke. 

“I’m not sure where you got those ideas from, Stephanie, or why you think that I will ever want you when Y/n is in my life, but you need to stop.” She tried to contain her shock at his rough tone, but the way her eyes widened gave her away. 

“Wha-”

“Let me finish. First of all, why do you think we’re not actually together? Are you so disbelieving of the fact that Y/n is a genuinely incredible person and could absolutely get anyone she wanted? Because I consider myself lucky that she even tolerates my presence half the time, let alone wants to date me. Second, even if we weren’t together, it would matter to me. I’m not the sort of person who switches loyalties that easily, and I will always, always, put my relationship with Y/n before any kind of attempted civilities with you. As it happens, she is my girlfriend, and quite honestly the fact that you think I’ll ever leave her for you is laughable.” He was being mean, he knew, but he was too done with Steph’s behaviour to worry about being nice and charming now. He’d pieced together the last of the puzzle that had been bothering him since he first got here too, connecting the dots between Linda and Steph’s comments and Y/n’s subsequently strange behaviour since arriving here. “So no, I do not want this. What I want is for you to stop bullying her, and belittling her, and making her feel like shit all the damn time, because she doesn’t deserve it,” he seethed, jabbing his finger in her face. “She doesn’t deserve any of it at all. All the comments about how much she’s eating, or her body shape, or giving her a gym membership as a Christmas present, or telling her she’s not pretty enough because she doesn’t look like you, or because she wears the same dress two years in a row, all of that needs to stop. Because you make her act like an entirely different person when you’re around and that is not alright. Because Y/n is ten times the person that you will ever be, Steph, because she isn’t a bully. She’s genuine, and kind, and loving, and the most beautiful girl in the entire universe, and she doesn’t deserve a single iota of the hate that you give her.”

Steph was quiet for a minute, processing everything he’d just ranted about. “I overheard you,” she finally said, not looking at him. “That first night when Y/n stormed off upstairs in some stupid tantrum-”

“She stormed off upstairs because you were being a bitch.”

“Right,” Steph didn’t looked too bothered, but she at least had the grace to flinch at his icy tone. “Well after you went up, I followed, because yeah, you’re right, I am very disbelieving that someone as good-looking as you would ever go for someone as ugly as her when you know you could do at least twenty times better, and I thought there was something weird about it! And there was a very large period of time when I couldn’t hear anything, which was really annoying because my legs were getting tired from-”

“Steph, hurry it up.” He had barely any patience remaining now, and her voice had gone all whiny and irritating.

“Oh, yeah. Well, then I heard you two talking about how it was really hard pretending to like each other or something, and you were arguing and saying that you were pretending to date.” Anthony froze for a moment, but rapidly recovered and eased himself into his normal ‘customer service’ persona, plastering on a pitiful smile. Before he could say anything though, Steph was moving towards the kitchen door, one hand on the handle. “It’s been quite fun, really, watching you fake a relationship to everyone. I’ve been trying to work out when the best time to bring it up was ever since Christmas Day after you had a go at me. So, either you tell them all, or I do. You’ve got nowhere to hide now, and I am going to enjoy watching this whole thing collapse on Y/n. I’ll give you until after the competition’s been judged; I wouldn’t want to ruin the festivities.” Her smile was even more sickening than it had been when she’d first started this conversation back in the other room, and after she disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door behind her, Anthony let out a shaky breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. 

He needed to talk to Y/n before the end of the competition, and figure out how the hell they were going to deal with Steph. 

~~~

She couldn’t stop staring at his hands. 

Since coming back in from whatever hallway conversation he’d had with Steph, Anthony had gone right back to helping Nana Jean with a smile on his face, despite the wary glances he kept throwing towards Y/n’s cousin. She hadn’t seen the two of them step out, but she had noticed that Anthony was gone, because she’d gone to look at his hands again and he wasn’t there. 

Her Gramps was helping her cut out the shapes they would need for their gingerbread house, and she’d been doing just fine until out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Anthony slip back on the ring he always wore. 

He had taken it off earlier when Nana Jean told him he needed to mix the ingredients with his hands, not wanting to get the metal coated in gingerbread mix, but now that his hands were clean again he was adjusting it back on his finger. 

Why couldn’t she stop staring at his hands?

She’d nearly cut a piece of gingerbread entirely wrong just now because she had been too focused on how the metal band looked against his slender fingers while he rolled out the gingerbread, and her Gramps had scolded her by chucking a bit of flour at her face. 

“Pay attention, love, you’re very distracted today. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, uh- yeah… yes. Everything is… is fine.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off of his ring, which meant she didn’t see either her Gramps’ concerned look or Anthony’s bemused one until Will was calling across the kitchen. 

“Keep it in your pants, Squeak! You can take your Lover Boy to bed after the gingerbread competition!” Y/n flushed as her gaze snapped up to meet Anthony’s, finally noticing that she’d been caught blatantly checking out his hands. 

“Alright, Will,” her mother scolded, although there was a hint of amusement behind it that made Y/n want the ground to swallow her up. Anthony just raised his eyebrows at her, smirk on his face, and she didn’t have it in her to fight back, instead turning back to the gingerbread in front of her and cutting out the last of the shapes. 

~~~

“Hey,” Anthony said, finally getting a chance to talk to Y/n. Pretty much everybody either had their gingerbread shapes in the ovens, or they were waiting for a space to free up, so he had been excused by Nana Jean for a while. 

“Oh, hi!” She hadn’t seen him walk over, but the second she realised he was there she reached up and planted a quick kiss on his mouth. He felt himself blush, despite it being over faster than most of their kisses, and she let out a snort. “Really? All I did was give you a peck on the lips, Ant.”

A wave of confidence came over him, and although the heat stayed on his cheeks he leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Well I wasn’t doing much with my hands but I still had you blushing, didn’t I darling?” Y/n had no answer to that (not that it had really been a question; he’d seen her staring earlier and he was almost certain her thoughts had drifted somewhere other than something innocent), and before he pulled back Anthony pressed a lingering kiss just by her ear. 

“You- y- you can’t just say that, Ant! Jesus!” He laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her into his chest while she hid her face in his neck. He hummed, happy, until he caught a glimpse of Steph out of the corner of his eye. 

“Darling?”

“What?” she replied, although it was somewhat muffled since her head was still buried in his christmas jumper. 

“We need to talk about something really quickly, do you want to step out?” Y/n lifted her head, frown crossing her features. Anthony wanted to press kisses to it until it disappeared, but the conversation he’d had with Stephanie was at the front of his mind. 

“Okay… is everything alright?” she asked as he led her out of the kitchen by the hand. He didn’t say anything until they were in the library, safely away from all other family members. “Ant, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Steph talked to me earlier.”

“Right… how was it?”

“Awful. She kissed me.”

“WHAT?!”

“Darling, it’s fine, it was less than a second and I shoved her off and-“

“What? Oh! Oh, no, I’m not angry with you, Ant. I’m pissed at her for kissing my fucking boyfriend!”

“Ah. Okay. Well that’s not actually the thing I wanted to talk about.”

“There’s more?!”

“She knows. That we’re not… that we weren’t… that we were faking it. She doesn’t know that we stopped doing that and started actually dating, because she walked away before I could tell her that, but she’s known since the first night and she’s been waiting ever since. She gave me an ultimatum, and said that either we fess up or she does, right after the competition has been judged. Seemed far too happy about watching you suffer, to be honest. I think she might need to see a doctor.” Y/n stared at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she shut it completely. 

“So, Steph knows. Steph has known basically the entire time. And Steph has done nothing?”

“Yes. She said something about wanting to ‘watch the whole thing collapse on you’ and that she would ‘enjoy it’ or something?”

“That bitch. Well what are we gonna do then? Because whatever happens it sounds like my family is finding out about this whole… thing,” she flapped her hands between them before sighing and pressing them to her face. “I was right. This is a shitshow.”

“Hey, hey. Worst case scenario is Steph tells everyone, yes? But then we can just tell them the truth. Will knows, and he’ll back us up, right? And I’m fairly certain that Nana Jean knows but I’m not sure how, she just kept making these little comments while we were baking earlier and winking at me and I just - it just feels like she knows.” 

“Nana Jean’s just like that, I suppose. It would make sense if she knew. Okay. You’re right. We can do this. We’ll just wait until Steph tells everyone, and then tell the truth.” Y/n paused for a moment, looking down at the floor while she chewed her lip. “I don’t think I can tell the truth,” she said, and when she brought her gaze back up her eyes were shining with the tears that were threatening to fall. Anthony stepped closer, framing her face in his hands and planting a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“You don’t need to tell the whole truth. Not if you don’t want to. Just the bit about us being in a proper relationship now if you like, and I can do that if you need me to. But whatever you choose, darling, I’ll be with you. I will be right by your side, Y/n, always.”

“Thank you, Anthony.”

“Anytime, my darling. Anytime at all.”

He hoped she knew just how much he meant it. 

part 10

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @magicandrosewaters

desperately hoping this is everyone, but as always just let me know if you want to be added/removed (or if I forgot you) and I'll do that as soon as I can! <3

[gatitties]

Tokyo Revengers: Masterlist

(Other works)

Bonten

"Motherly" - Platonic!Yandere!bonten x fem!reader

;; You were just trying to help someone and you ended up being the obsession of a criminal organization.

"Assassin" - Yandere!bonten x assassin!reader

;; You were just doing your job, you don't need any more trouble chasing you in life but you had awakened a toxic curiosity in those criminals.

"Clingy" - Mikey, Kokonoi, Sanzu & Rindou x reader

;; You are a person of physical touch as a sign of affection, that's all!

"Like mom" - Mikey x mother!assassin!reader

;; You don't like that your kid looks like you because you don't have the best manners or work.

"Death threat" - Yandere!bonten x reader

;; A moment in which your life is threatened, a moment of despair for these boys.

"I'm sorry" - Dad!Sanzu x daughter!reader

;; Your life begins to fall apart because of your father’s addictions, but it’s never too late to get back on track.

"Mommy issues" - Sanzu x fem!reader

;; You decide to end your silence, seeking help from the person who has spent years in your life, this whole arguing situation was making you desperate.

"Eternal youth" - Bonten x fem!reader

;; Your face always made people add years to your age, but now it seems like you're stuck in eternal youth for that very reason.

Tenjiku

"Rumors" - Tenjiku x fem!reader

;; Certain rumors attract a group of boys to you, looking for a fight and finding friendship.

"Remember me" - Izana Kurokawa x fem!reader

;; You know your neighbor’s ‘stepbrother’ but certain problems prevent you from being together.

"Strange friendship" - Shion & Mochizuki x fem!reader

;; You have a curious duo as friends, two troublesome boys, how cute.

Toman

"Reading date" - Ryousei Satou x gn!reader

;; You always liked reading dates although Ryusei doesn't seem to be convinced by the idea at all.

"Strange friendship" - Peh-yan & Pah-chin x fem!reader

;; You have a curious duo as friends, a couple of fools, how cute.

"Wounds" - Duos + Hinata & Emma x reader

;; You are dumb and clumsy, you always end up with body injuries and they have to take care of you.

"ADHD" - Ryusei, Chifuyu & Baji x reader

;; Your day to day with three big idiots and your little condition.

"Artist" - Ryusei, Baji, Chifuyu & Kazutora x reader

;; Your friend discover that you are making a small figure/draw of them.

"Racer" - Mikey x reader

;; Mikey discovers a new side of you and helps with a sibling argument with Draken.

Valhalla

"Apologize" - TR x kisaki!reader

;; You discover something you don't like about your little brother and decide he needs to apologize.

"Strange friendship" - Kisaki & Hanma x fem!reader

;; You have a curious duo as friends, a couple of psychopaths, how cute.

Others

"Strange friendship" - Taiju & South x fem!reader

;; You have a curious duo as friends, two violent maniacs, how cute.

"Gang shit" - TK x fem!reader

;; Your whole family is involved in gangs, except for you, however all your relationships are with these idiots who love to cause chaos wherever they go, you don't complain though.