#a separate but interesting thought I had while writing this...

[2crtz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ THE FALL INTO HIS HEART .

WARNINGS: light nsfw thoughts, brushing of the hand (wink), arranged marriage, haters to slightly friendly strangers. this is mainly fluff. CHARACTERS: capitano x f!readers SYNOPSIS: the tsaritsa ordered capitano to take your hand in marriage despite his better judgement. one day in the garden ignited a new version of you, and capitano found himself at the window, watching you look serene under the sunlight.  WORD COUNT: 1.439 A/N: this is my first post on this account and hope i don't disappoint. i love capitano and i want to write more of him (…and other genshin men). part two is out!

Capitano never agreed to an arranged marriage, however, whatever the Tsaritsa orders him, he obliges without protest. 

His first glance into your eyes ignited flames within his veins. If a look could kill, you would have fallen dead at his feet. You never agreed to this predicament, but you could not refuse your parents' wishes no matter how you deny.

The wedding was not one to write down. For the guests, yes, it was a magical day, but when it was time to finally retire in your new home, there was a cold, distant silence between you and your new husband. 

Since meeting Capitano, not a word had been said between the two of you. A foreboding feeling captured your senses, worried about if you had to preform that night, but Capitano did not make the impression he was interested in consummating the marriage.

He ended the night by not sharing another gaze and left to his separate chambers.  

You could finally breathe freely for the first time that day.

────

A month has passed of being married and there has been no improvement in your relationship. Most days are silent, while others, only a few words were spoken.

When Capitano does speak, a trace of malice taints his tone, you found yourself scared. 

Hearing his footsteps approach you made your blood run cold, the armor clanking causing you to flinch, and his low, stoic tone has you frozen in place. He has never given you a reason to hate him, but he shows himself as a person who shouldn't be trifled with.

The tales you've heard about the Harbinger could stir fear in anyone who have dared their ears to know the horrors he's caused. 

This marriage was a forced one, and one you wished was a nightmare you longed to free yourself from. 

Maybe, one day, you will wake up.

────

Capitano's office sat in the far end of the manor, away from your chambers. In there placed a grand window overlooking the green, lush gardens where he could look out at when the orders of the Tsaritsa are irritating.

Today was one of those days.

The towering man stood before the window, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant blooms and the sunlit waters shimmering like liquid gold. Yet today, the scene held a view, poised within the landscape of his vision, an unfamiliar change in the shades of green, one that belonged to you.

Stood there, in the purest shades of white, a gown that fitted loosely on your frame, looking breathtakingly serene.

Unaware of his eyes, standing there with not a care in the world, not knowing anyone is watching, you were unapologetically being you.

Capitano's head screamed to look away, to leave you be, but his eyes betrayed him. They were glued onto the image. It's like a reenactment of a live painting in front of him.

You were like a jewel, unearthed from beneath the surface that sparkled from the hitting sun for the first time. A sight he thought he could never experience in his lifetime. 

Watching you was a sight that Capitano continued to watch even after telling himself that he should stop, but he needed it. It was like a shot of heroin. He craved for you, watching you, seeing you in a light he never thought he would.

It's been weeks and he had yet to stop, and didn't plan to. Even if he didn't mutter a word to you for weeks, the silence was overshadowed by this new habit. A new secret was curated within weeks.

A secret of watching his wife.

He had never set foot onto the garden-- until now.

As he watched your movements, he noticed an odd limp in your steps. Making a mental note of it, he heard a thump followed by a wail. 

His spine straightened.

You were nowhere in sight.

Capitano's eyes moved rapidly across the garden to find you, his pulse quickening by the second, but he couldn't. He stepped out of his office and walked purposefully towards the garden.

His movements were sharp, yet his thoughts raced despite his better judgement. Capitano swiftly moved through the hedges, his sword cutting through the thick bushes. The ground beneath his feet was soft, littered with stones that could cause a limp from walking of them barefoot. It could be easy to trip over one, and once realizing that, Capitano's search became more frantic.

He first heard a soft whine followed by feet coming into view. 

"Gods--" He muttered as he came by your side, inspecting your condition.

"I think--" You swallowed between words from the pain shooting from your foot. "my ankle."

Capitano's eyes lowered to your swollen ankle, his brows furrowing with concern. Slowly, he bent down onto his knees beside you, his hand gently grabbed your foot.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly light. There was no hatred or spite, only a voice that you could relax in. It was unfamiliar, but comforting.

The touch was soft, and his demeanor grew tender. It was the first time you saw this side of him he tried to conceal. Even through your teary eyes and blurred vision, you saw the part of him he tried to keep hidden.

Your ankle was swollen and most likely sprained. Even from his light touch, you winced from the pain.

"I-I'm fine, I swear." you murmured, trying to not burden him more than you've already have, but he quickly dismissed it.

Capitano looped his arm under your knees and gathered you in his arms with ease.

"My wife is injured, and as your husband, it is my duty to be by your side. In sickness and in health."

The way he said it was like he was just repeating the vows he made, but to you, it was reassurance. This was his way of telling you that no matter the hardships or trials in your marriage, he remains by your side.

"Thank you." you whispered.

He only nodded and carried you off to your chambers.

────

Your husband carefully wrapped your ankle and elevated it to ease the swelling.

"You are not allowed to move from this bed unless told to. Should you need assistance, ring this bell and I will come." He held up the brass bell before placing it on your bedside table, softly clinking as it settled into place.

As he turned to exit your room, you quickly grabbed the bell and rang it.

Almost instantly, Capitano turned around.

"My dress is stained with dirt." your tone was low and quiet, laced with embarrassment that you were not capable of walking over to your dresser to collect fresh new clothes.

Understanding your unspoken request, Capitano walked towards your drawers and opened each one to find your nightgowns.

"Second to last drawer." Seeing him rummage through the articles of clothing was slightly humorous to you, it tugged the corner of your lips.

Following your instructions, he finally found a gown he liked and walked to you. "Will this do?" he asked, tone still low and even.

You nodded, reaching out to grab it, your fingers brushing his.

"Do you require any assistance with clothing yourself?" Even though it was an innocent question, your face began to heat up. Unbeknownst to Capitano, you didn't wear any undergarments beneath a nightgown.

If he pulled your dress up slightly, you would become vulnerable. From that thought alone, of your husband seeing you nude, caused your nipples to harden.

Capitano's gaze lowered slightly to see harden peaks appear through the thin fabric. Thankfully, his helmet hid his eyes.

"No," You quickly shielded your chest. "I can manage."

Like clockwork, Capitano nodded and exited your chambers without sparing another word.

As Capitano entered his office, he could finally breathe properly. After the scene he had witnessed, it became difficult for him to get air in his lungs.

Your breasts were on the forefront of his mind. The stiffened nubs were begging for his touch, taunting him that it'll be something he could only do in his wildest dreams.

The frustration ate him alive. If he could, he would go back into your room and show you what more he can do for you.

Hot and moist air filling the room, slapping noises, your moaning and pleads hitting his ears, he would do anything to sink himself deep inside your folds.

With those thoughts flooding his mind, he felt ashamed that he was taking advantage of you in his head. It was an absurd fantasy that he knows will never happen.

Only in his dreams.

do not modify, edit, or republish.

[dreamingunderacloudysky]

Hello!!! Nice to meet you here!!

Requesting separate HC's for Anya and Curly with gn!reader who miss them so much even for 5 minutes that just make big plushies verison of Anya/Curly to cuddle with

S/O That crochets their partner while they're gone Anya, Curly.

A/N: Interesting prompt, I shall do it! Thank you for the request! Gave it an interesting spin!

For context, the reader crocheted both themselves and their partner so you tow have a crocheted of eachother.

Curly

Is super flattered when you email him a picture of a crocheted version of himself. He'd originally thought you just crocheted a little you for him when he went on the Tulpar.

You send him pictures of little Curly on top of your shared pet with a cowboy hat on, which makes his heart swell with joy.

Every time he has a meeting with the Tulpar crew, he'll use the meeting projector to show all the silly pictures his partner sends to him of mini curly.

One picture is Crochet Curly on the dog against a bunch of mini dinosaur figures set up in a formation; another picture is of the Crochet double with you and it on a swinging bench in your back yard.

Swansea and Jimmy scoff at it, but a small smile curls on each of their lips. Daisuke is asking to help Curly with photography ideas with his own Crochet setting the doll various places on the ship. Anya silently enjoys the little pictures and sketches some of them into her note pad.

When he's alone he'll go through and look at the photo war you guys have between your two crochets.

He really misses you

Anya

Before she boarded the Tulpar, you rushed up and pressed the crochett of you into her hands before leaving a kiss and running back down the railing.

Anya spent the entirety of Tulpar's launch carefully holding the little you in the palms of her hands.

Anya herself may not crochet, but I can tell you that she would be a killer at origami, and she folds little Tulpar coveralls for your crochet to wear.

When the first batch of emails from home came in, Anya clicked on the file you sent and had to hold a hand over her mouth as hot tears welled in her eyes.

Seeing a little version of herself in crochet resting between your fingers, in a little lab coat with a stethoscope around its neck. She wished she could take it all back and be with you instead of this space delivery.

Like curly, Anya takes silly pictures at work of your crochet doing various things like holding the butterfly needle while drawing Swansea's blood or posing dramatically next to the 'Yimpy' sketch on her board.

Anya has made little cartoon comics of adventures your two crochets would go on fighting aliens or the declarations of love that Anya herself could not say out loud.

Her favorite picture is you holding the Anya crochet while in bed with a bag of Wendy's watching terrible reality TV. The Anya Crochet is holding a fry in a chocolate Frostee, a habit that mirrors the nurse's guilty pleasure.

She knows the moment she comes home, she'll tackle you out of your shared bed and not let go for a good while.

A/N: I actually had such a BLAST writing this one! It definately strayed from the original prompt but I hope you enjoyed!

[margeoww]

Let me be honest here, ‘After All This Time’ should be a series or at least mini series and I’m ready to drop a kidney for it.

PLEASE MAKE IT A SERIES! 😭 Also, love your writing! 🫶🏽

After All This Time

back to my main masterlist.

toto wolff masterlist

Chapter 2

pairing: toto wolff x exwife!reader

summary: Toto reflects on the highs and lows of his 20-year marriage after seeing his ex-wife for the first time in four years. Memories of love, loss, and mistakes resurface, leaving him questioning if reconciliation is still possible.

warnings: themes of emotional conflict, mentions of divorce and strained relationships.

The echoes of their reunion at the gala lingered in Toto’s mind. Sleep had evaded him as the brief conversation played on repeat, unearthing emotions he thought were buried. Seated alone in his office, surrounded by the glow of the city lights, memories flooded back, raw and unrelenting.

The First Meeting

Their story began at a charity event in Vienna. Toto was a young, ambitious entrepreneur, accustomed to being the center of attention. She, on the other hand, was an anomaly in a room of predictable faces. Her laughter, genuine and unguarded, drew him in.

—Do you always observe people as if you’re calculating your next move in chess? —she asked, her smile disarming his ego. Toto was speechless, a rare occurrence.

—Only when someone interesting appears —he replied eventually, and that was the start of everything.

The Early Years

The early days were an adventure. She celebrated his ambition, becoming his anchor amidst the chaos. She was his biggest supporter and his sharpest critic, keeping him grounded while pushing him forward.

They spent evenings walking through Vienna, laughing as though they were the only ones in the world. Their life together was filled with simple yet unforgettable moments—cooking together, debating over who cut vegetables better, or mornings when Toto lingered in bed just to hear her hum while making coffee.

But success came at a price. Formula 1 consumed Toto, demanding every ounce of his time and energy. Promises of quality time were replaced by meetings, races, and endless travel.

—It’s not just that you work too much —she said one night after yet another canceled dinner. —It’s that I don’t know where I stand in your life anymore.

That conversation marked the beginning of the end.

The Anniversary That Changed Everything

The most painful memory was their 20th anniversary. Toto arranged an extravagant dinner, hoping to rekindle what had been lost. But the tension between them was undeniable.

—Do you really think a dinner can fix years of distance? —she asked, her voice heavy with sadness.

That night ended in silence, and Toto realized it wasn’t just about time or work. It was about connection—a connection that had slowly eroded despite the love that still existed.

The Divorce

The separation was agonizing but inevitable. Though neither said it aloud, they both knew the love remained. But sometimes, love alone isn’t enough.

Their last meeting was in the lawyer’s office, signing the divorce papers. —Take care of yourself, Toto —she said before walking out. Those words, filled with affection and finality, haunted him for years.

Back to the Present

Toto exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. Four years had passed since that day, years spent burying himself in work and pretending he was fine.

But now, after seeing her at the gala, the past felt alive again. The way she looked at him—with surprise, nostalgia, and something he couldn’t quite decipher—left him restless.

Could he fix what had been broken? Or was it far too late?

As rain pattered against the window, Toto allowed himself a thought he had avoided for years: hope.

Okey okey, this is my first mini series, and Im so happy for all the support that you guys are giving to me. Thank you thank you. Hope u like it. ❤️‼️

[bumblingbabooshka]

Voyager should have had an episode where the command trio beat the absolute hell out of each other while blaming each other for being stuck in the delta quadrant as the fever pitch of a rising tension that was building throughout the episode. Like, they're absolutely being pushed to do it by some outside force. Maybe it's a telepathic being - maybe it's that they're stuck in some arena or an alien court or a time loop only the three of them are aware of - no matter the specifics, the sentiment behind their words has to be true and it has to be something they've been keeping back for months, maybe years. That fear and hatred and blame that doesn't really have an actual target because it's not actually rational but 'who's to blame' doesn't have to be capital T true to feel true. If Chakotay hadn't been in the badlands, If Janeway hadn't made that choice, If Tuvok hadn't supported it... "You trapped us here. It's your fault. If you hadn't-! If you hadn't-! If you hadn't-!" are just echoes of "I trapped us here. It's my fault. If I hadn't-! If I hadn't-! If I hadn't-!" Because at the end of the day more than being angry or hateful they're despairing in their own ways. Episode probably has a somber end - they beat whatever it was and it's a victory! They won by working together even after they beat each other half to death! But after the celebration we see them alone in their quarters...silent. Gazing out at the stars, into a candle's flame, at that same family picture before turning away. Because even though they won they're still there in the delta quadrant. Is that really victory?

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I think the reader's response to this post is probably going to either be "That's incredibly minor" or "Holy shit YES I'M ALSO PROUD", depending on people's personal experiences with academia, but:

Today I am incredibly proud of one of my students.

In the interests of disguising identities, let's call them Ceri. Ceri is one of my third year undergrads (meaning their final year, for anyone unfamiliar with UK uni systems.) They transferred to us last year, and within two weeks I was giving them the contact info to get to Student Services and get themself screened for ADHD; they have some mental health struggles, but I clocked pretty quickly that they STRUGGLE with procrastination, and punctuality, and attending 9am lectures in particular. Naturally, as is the way of my people, it took them a further four months to remember to go to the screening. Lol. Lmao. Rofl, in fact.

But, they did it eventually! Their screening lit up like a Christmas tree at the ADHD section, and they got a free laptop and optional one week extensions and a study support worker named Claire. This has helped tremendously, and although mental health + until-then-unsupported ADHD meant their academic profile had slid sideways somewhat, with the new tools available and a couple of resits they passed the year and hit this year running.

Until, that is, the last fortnight.

Now, I take them for a Habitat Management module that has two assessments: an academic poster presentation before Christmas, and a site-specific management plan in May. Naturally this means we are at that happy point in the year for the poster presentations. I give out the briefs at the start of the year, so they've had them since October; I've also been periodically checking in with them all for weeks, to make sure they don't have any major burning questions. The poster presentation was to pick a species reintroduction project, pull the habitat feasibility study out of it, and then critique that study; Ceri chose to look at the hen harrier reintroductions proposed for the southern UK. All good.

Which brings us nicely to today! Ceri's presentation is scheduled for 2.30. At 11am-1pm, I am lecturing the first years on Biodiversity, while Ceri is learning about environmental impact assessment with a colleague I shall call Aeron. This means we are separately occupied during those same hours.

Nevertheless, Aeron messages me at about 12.

"I think Ceri needs to see you after your lecture," he writes. "They're panicking, I genuinely think they might cry. I'm worried. Are you free at 1?"

I say I am. At 1, I get lunch and sit in the common area; Ceri comes to see me. To my personal shame, imagine all of the following takes place while I stuff my face with potato.

Now: this part is going to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who has ever tried higher education with ADHD, especially unmedicated. It certainly was for me. All I can say is, I never had the courage to take the step here that Ceri did.

"I have to confess," they said quietly, and Aeron was right, they were fighting back tears. "My mental health has been so, so bad for the last fortnight. I've left it way, way too late. I don't have anything to present."

"Nothing at all?" I asked.

"I've been researching," they said helplessly. "I found loads on the decline of the hen harrier. But it wasn't until last night that I finally found a habitat feasibility study to critique. Generally... I've been burying my head about it, and it just got later and later. I thought I should come in for Aeron's lecture, and I should at least tell you."

This part is a minor thing, right? But honestly, I remember being in the grip of that particular shame spiral. I never did manage to tell my lecturers to their faces. I just avoided. I honestly can't imagine having the courage it took them to come in and tell me this, rather than just staying home and avoiding me.

"I think..." they said hesitantly, "I know I can submit up to a week late, for a capped mark. I think I need to do that, and apply for extenuating circumstances. But then I'll have both Aeron's assignment and yours due at the same time."

Which meant they would crumble under the pressure and likely struggle to pass both; so me, being as noble and heroic as I unarguably am, stopped eating potato and said, "Let's make that plan B."

(It was good potato. I am a hero.)

So, we made plan A: I moved their timeslot to 4.30, giving them three and a half hours. The shining piece of luck in this whole thing was that this was the crunch time assignment - if it had been Aeron's, they'd have had to try and write a 3000 report in that time. But for me, all they had to write was an academic poster, and those things are light on words by design. We found them a Canva template, and then we quickly sketched out a recommended structure based on the brief: if it's habitat feasibility, look at food availability, nesting site availability, and mortality risks in the target release site. Bullet point each. Bullet point how well the study assessed each. Write a quick intro and conclusion. Take notes as you go, and present the poster itself at 4.30.

"You think I should try?" they asked doubtfully, looking like I'd just asked them to go mano-a-mano with a feral badger.

"If you run out of time, so be it," I said. "But your brain is trying to protect you from a non-existent tiger. That's why you've procrastinated - it's been horrible, and you've been shame spiralling, and your brain is trying to shield you from the negative experience; but it's the wrong type of help for this situation! So while you're sitting there working on it, hating life, every time your brain goes 'This is hopeless, I can't do it', you think right back 'Yes I can, it just sucks.' And you carry on. Good?"

"Good," they said. "I'm going to mainline coffee and hole up in the library. Enjoy your potato."

And then, of course, I had to go and watch the other students' presentations, so that was the end of me being any help at all. I spent all afternoon wondering if they were going to manage it, or if I would be getting a message at 4.25 telling me they'd failed, and would have to submit late and hope for an EC.

And Tumblrs

Tumblrs

Let me FUCKING tell you

They turned up at 4.15, fifteen minutes early, wearing a mask of grim, harrowed determination and fuelled by spite and coffee, and they pulled up that poster and started presenting and yes, okay, I'll admit their actual delivery was dramatically unpolished and yes, they forgot to include the taxanomic name for the hen harrier on the poster and yes, fine, I admit that there were more than a few awkward moments where they lost their place in their hastily scribbled notebook but LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU -

They smashed it. It was well-critiqued, it had a map, it had full citations, it had a section on the hen harrier's specific ecology and role in the ecosystem, it had notes on their specific conservation measures. They described case studies they'd read about elsewhere. They answered the questions we threw at them with competence and depth. There was analysis. All that background research they'd done came right to the fore. They were even within the time limit by 15 seconds.

You would never have known they'd produced it in three hours, from a quivering and terrified mess fighting the bodily urge to dehydrate via tear ducts. After they left, the second marker and I looked at each other and went "So that was a 2:1, right?"

I caught up with Aeron downstairs and he was beaming. Apparently Ceri had seen him on their way out, and had gone over to talk to him. Aeron said the difference between the Ceri of this morning and the Ceri of then was like two different people; in four hours, they'd gone from their voice literally breaking as they admitted the problem, ashamed and broken, to being relaxed and happy and smiling.

"I reckon I've passed," they apparently told Aeron, pleased. "Maybe even a 2:2. There's things I wish I'd had the time to do better, but I'll be happy if I passed."

They won't know until late January what they got, because we're not allowed to release marks until 20 term days after hand-in, and the Christmas holidays are about to hit. But I'm really hoping I can be there when they're released.

But mostly, I'm just... insanely proud of them. I cannot tell you how happy I am. And I know, I know, obviously this is not a practice I would want to see them do regularly, or indeed ever again, and it only worked because they were fucking lucky with the assignment format, but like... when life is just punching you in the face, and you hit a breaking point... isn't it nice? That just this once, you pull off a miracle, and it's fixed? The disaster you thought was about to ruin you is gone? To get that relief?

Anyway. Super super proud today.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)

⊱ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair ⊰ || NSFW Alphabet (A-Z) Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化, Separate) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Sex-Specific Genitalia is Mentioned but it was Written with an AFAB Reader in Mind) Warning(s): 18+ Content, Virgin Asexual Author, Cum Eating, Facials, Minor Objectification, Cuckoldry, Mutual Masturbation, Face-fucking, Sexual Fantasies, Tickling, Praise/Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink/Creampies, BDSM, Overstimulation, Orgasm Control/Denial, Dumbification, Dacryphilia, Hair-pulling, Light Impact Play, Light Breathplay, Implied Cunnilingus/Blowjobs, Cock Warming, Mention/Discussion of Sex Toys… If I missed anything, please let me know! Genre: Headcanons, Smut (Minors Do Not Interact), Fluff Word Count: 7,200 words Request: “Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)” Author’s Note: I’m still very much working on getting better at writing spicier content, and I had no clue how to start writing these kinds of headcanons from scratch, so I went ahead and just filled out the NSFW Alphabet for both Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair as a jumping off point! It’s definitely interesting to think about how both of these characters would be in a sexually intimate setting, especially since – at least in my mind – they’d be quite different from each other in a variety of aspects even if they did have some overlap on a few of the points. I did my best to keep each of their headcanons at a similar word length (which was kind of hard to do with my Mr. Crawling bias, but I think I accomplished it haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

👣: Mr. Crawling is immensely clingy after having sex, holding onto you and pretty much refusing to let go as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck or your hair. While he doesn’t want to get up from the bed or leave after the two of you have been intimate, if you’re hungry or thirsty or if you want to go take a bath, he’s happy to go fetch you something to restore your energy or help you to the bathroom to clean up. He’s quite good at aftercare, even if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing counts as it. Mr. Crawling just likes making you feel good, and he wants to keep you safe and happy! His favorite thing to do is help you bathe; he enjoys the way the warm water feels on his skin while he washes your back for you. 

💉: Mr. Silvair isn’t too affectionate after the two of you are intimate, but he’ll check up on you and ask if you need him to get you anything. If your wrists were rubbed raw from the restraints he had placed on you, he would make sure to carefully wrap gauze around your irritated skin. If you were thirsty or hungry, he would locate something safe for you to consume to get your strength back up. If you feel sticky or gross afterward, he’ll carefully wipe your body with a wet cloth to make sure you are clean and comfortable. He lets you sleep and typically goes about his own business. Sometimes, though, Mr. Silvair finds himself watching over you to make sure you’re breathing steadily, carefully combing his fingers through your hair. 

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t have a favorite part of your body since he honestly enjoys every aspect of you but, if he had to choose, he loves your hands. He knows that they can hurt people and cause a lot of pain, but he loves the way they feel when you cup his face to softly caress it or whenever you thread your fingers through his hair. For himself, Mr. Crawling loves his hair the most (I know it’s not technically a body part, but I think it makes the most sense for him); he pretty much melts whenever you play with it, and his head is quite sensitive, so he blue screens whenever you pull at his hair or rake your nails across his scalp. I also feel like Mr. Crawling would be proud of his arms since they’re fairly toned considering they’re his primary means of getting around. Because of his impressive strength, despite what his thinner frame may portray, he’s able to hold you up and move you around with relative ease (he 100% can manhandle you, but only will if you’re cool with it). 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds every aspect of your body fascinating, and he could probably explain why each part of you was interesting from a medical perspective or that everything was pleasant to look at in one way or another. If he had to pick a favorite part of your body, though, he would have to say it’s your head (I know, kind of weird, but he does appreciate your intelligence and, well… Ending 06 is my other piece of reasoning haha). Specifically, though, he likes your mouth. He enjoys being able to hold your head in place while your jaw hangs open, all while he just goes to town while you drool and choke around his cock. Don’t worry, though – he’ll find some remedy to lessen the soreness you feel in your throat afterward. For himself, he’s quite proud of his hands. Mr. Silvair is skilled at many things, and being able to make you come undone with his fingers alone makes him feel a sense of power (plus, you called them pretty once, and it made him feel good). 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

👣: Mr. Crawling gets extremely flustered whenever he sees his cum on any part of your body, from your hair to your face to your stomach. The sight of it alone on your skin makes his brain short-circuit and body flare up – it only makes him want to touch you even more. He likes being able to clean you up, too, leaning forward before he runs his tongue along your body or face, making sure there wasn’t a single drop of his cum left on you (even if now it meant you were covered in saliva…). He doesn’t mind tasting himself, but it most certainly doesn’t compare to your flavor. 

💉: I probably need to ask you to stay with me on this one, but I think Mr. Silvair would probably keep your cum stored away in a sample tube or something along those lines, having a desire to run tests on it to see what he could create. Views your cum as a valuable resource in his research...yay? Maybe he could even use your release to invent some kind of lubricant since that’s not easily accessible in the other world and make having sex much more streamlined… or he just keeps it around to show you later and see your reaction to the fact he keeps your cum stored away in his laboratory to tease you. 

D: Dirty Secret

👣: The thought of taking you in public, in a space where no one but you could see him, makes his mind race and his body feel like it was on fire – this man can act like a feral dog sometimes. I mean, even you sometimes forgot he was there, unable to see his form unless you concentrated hard enough, so imagine if the two of you went out somewhere in public and he (with your consent, of course), just started touching you? Groping your ass, his face between your legs as he runs his hands along your inner thighs… no one can see that it’s him making your face flush and not the excuse of a fever you told the concerned stranger in the hopes they would leave you alone. When you half-heartedly glare at him to try and get him to lay off for a bit, he just laughs at your expression… how rude!

💉: Mr. Silvar wouldn’t be opposed to having a threesome with another resident of the other world. After all, he would be curious to see how differently you acted when another person was there with the two of you, or if your body reacted in an unlikely way if another were to touch you. While I will not write NSFW for Mr. Chopped (the power dynamic there isn’t my favorite thing in the world), he would be the one Mr. Silvair would feel most at ease sharing you with; Mr. Crawling or Mr. Hood would be his second and third choices respectively since he knows how deeply you trust them. He might not even partake in sex either, just sitting off to the side while he lets another use you like a toy. As long as you know your his, though, he doesn’t mind watching you enjoy yourself with another (he has to be there, though). 

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

👣: Mr. Crawling has absolutely zero experience with this kind of stuff, so he would need someone willing to walk him through the whole process, show him what you like, and teach him what and what not to do. What he lacks in experience, though, he makes up for in pure enthusiasm. It’s quite flattering how determined he is when it comes to making you feel good, even if it’s a bit sloppy and unpracticed. His thrusts are extremely unpredictable, never quite finding their rhythm… It’s alright, though; he’ll definitely get better with more time and the more he gets to understand what your body likes. You just have to give him the time to improve, and he’ll be certain to leave you breathless. 

💉: Mr. Silvair also has no experience when it comes to sex, or at least not any while he’s resided in the other world. He is a life-long learner through and through, though, and there’s nothing in the universe he’s not willing to learn about, especially if it has to do with humans and their anatomy. His thrusts are frighteningly accurate, being able to hit your most sensitive inner spots with ease to have you begging him to give you a moment to breathe. He’s an almost terrifyingly fast learner, too, being able to apply whatever new information he’s observed and gathered within moments. He can do it perfectly, too, and he does it in a way that has you questioning whether he was telling the truth when he said this was his first time doing anything like this. 

F: Favorite Position

👣: When it comes to favorite positions, Mr. Crawling loves being able to hold you close to him while also being able to see your face (he has to kiss you during sex – sorry, I don’t make the rules). He enjoys the rocking horse position since it allows him to be able to hold you close while still being able to maintain eye contact with you and easily have access to cover your face in kisses. While he prefers being the one making you feel good, Mr. Crawling would also enjoy the cowgirl position. He’s happy to let you use him to your heart's content while being able to look up and soak in the pleased look that’s plastered across your features while you slam your hips up and down on his cock. 

💉: Mr. Silvair personally enjoys the butterfly position, having you lay on your back atop his operation table all while he can watch and take mental notes on every single facial expression you make and every single twitch of your muscles while he drives you absolutely insane. He would also enjoy missionary, but he would spice it up a little bit by having your hands or wrists tied to something. After all, he doesn’t want you to touch him unless he says you can – just lay there quietly while he completely wrecks you with that annoyingly calm expression on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you touch him, though. Mr. Silvair simply prefers being the one in charge and determining when and where you’re able to feel his skin beneath your hands. 

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

👣: Acts goofy most of the time during sex, even if he doesn’t mean to. He likes being able to make you happy, and he finds your laughter to be music to his ears. Sometimes you two will be having sex, and he’ll suddenly start giggling completely unprovoked, just finding the experience with you so joyful. Being with you in any capacity makes his chest feel light and fluttery as a sense of giddiness flows through his veins. He’ll wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck, causing your body to spasm and tighten around him while his long hair drapes over you and tickles your skin. Overall, Mr. Crawling enjoys being more playful when the two of you are intimate since it adds to the overall experience for him. 

💉: Prefers to be serious while having sex. He treats the whole process of intercourse like one would treat a research project which, honestly, can make you feel a bit annoyed in some instances (Mr. Silvair still doesn’t quite understand why, though). He’s methodical in everything he does, and being light-hearted or purposefully humorous isn’t high on his list of things to do. He has no problem if you want to be silly, however. He finds it cute when you try to see if you can make him chuckle. It endears you to him more, and it makes him want to keep you around for even longer. The only goofy thing he does is gently run his fingers up and down your sides while thrusting into you, finding the way your body wriggles and writhes away from his touch to be adorable. 

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

👣: I think Mr. Crawling would have fairly long hair beneath the metaphorical belt. His pubic hair would be thick, curly, and a very dark shade of black. He doesn’t really keep himself groomed (kind of hard to do in his world, plus it was never a priority for him), but if you would prefer him to keep it trimmed, he’d be happy to! He doesn’t care one way or another. 

💉: Mr. Silvair comes off to me as someone who would enjoy keeping themselves groomed and their appearance well-maintained, and I mean every inch of his body. I think he would have either no pubic hair or pubic hair that was trimmed to be the perfect length. If he did have any hair below the belt, it would be a gray color, one that was a shade darker than his regular hair and wavy in texture. 

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

👣: One of the more human-like members of the cast when it comes to his affections; he’s as romantic as a non-human being can be. Mr. Crawling loves holding you close as he ruts into you like a wild dog, whispering praises against your skin. He even tries his best to learn phrases in your language so he can tell you how much you mean to him without you having to try and decipher it. He’s always so, so soft with you when you two are having sex. He’s honored that you’d let him have you in such a way, and finds your trust in him heartwarming – he trusts you, too, with his entire heart and soul. 

💉: Mr. Silvair canonically doesn’t comprehend the concept of “liking” or loving someone, so that also translates into sex with him. All he knows is that he finds you entertaining to be around and that he’s somewhat endeared to you at this point. He’s not romantic but, in between teasing you and making you cry (whether it be in frustration or overstimulation), he’s checking in on you to make sure that you’re still comfortable. He knows sex can be invasive, and he’s aware of how much regard the act is held in by some people in your world, so he does his best to respect that... Even if he does need to check himself every now and again. 

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them masturbates much because they simply don’t have a desire or time to do so. Mr. Crawling would rather wait for you to be there so you two can enjoy yourselves together, and Mr. Silvair simply has more important matters to attend to. That’s not to say they never masturbate, though, it’s just typically a rare occurrence. 

👣: Mr. Crawling typically masturbates by rutting up against something, like a pillow, rather than taking himself in his hand. His thoughts before meeting you were just focusing on the physical sensation of his cock sliding against the fabric of his clothing, but now he finds himself thinking of you – the way your voice sounds when you coo sweet words in his ear, the warmth of your body. Imagining your hands gently touching his chest and hips makes him cum right then and there, almost embarrassingly quickly… Yeah, he’s down bad. 

💉: Mr. Silvair treats masturbating as a chore. He’d much rather be doing something else than leaning against the wall of his operation room while his hand goes absolutely ham on his dick. He knows which areas on his body get the most reaction, so he purposefully presses all of his buttons just so he can be done with it quicker. This doesn’t change after meeting and getting to be intimate with you, though, he still sees it as a chore… Just now he imagines cumming on your face or inside you whenever he finally reaches his climax. 

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

👣: 

Mutual Masturbation: He likes spending time with you and doing things together, so why not spend some time watching each other explore yourselves? He likes observing you as you touch yourself, making mental notes of every spot on your body that have you biting your lip and furrowing your brows. While I wouldn’t say he’s into voyeurism since he does like being with you while you touch yourself instead of tucked away in the shadows just watching, he focuses more on the way your hands touch and caress your skin instead of focusing on the way he moves his hands across his body. Doesn’t last very long doing this, though, eventually pouncing on you and touching you himself.

Overstimulation (Giving): Mr. Crawling loves overstimulating you, even if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it half of the time. He just enjoys seeing you become a blabbering mess all because of him; he takes great pride in being able to make you feel good. However, the first time you started crying because he was simply giving you too much, he felt so guilty – the poor man was on the verge of tears thinking he made you feel bad. 

Praise Kink: While praising you is a bit more difficult considering the language barrier and the limited amount of words and phrases he has to choose from, he still loves doing it. Muttering against your skin how you’re doing such a good job, how he loves you so much, how you make him so happy. Mr. Crawling definitely makes sure to reassure you both inside and outside of the bedroom. 

Hair Pulling (Receiving): He loves, loves, loves it whenever you take his hair in your hand and give it a firm tug. Mr. Crawling enjoys it whenever he’s going down on you and you take his hair into your hands and push him even closer, making him become fully immersed in your scent and taste. 

Sensation Play: While Mr. Crawling may not enjoy more painful experiences, he does like general sensation play quite a bit. He likes the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin while you pepper his flesh with gentle kisses and nips. He enjoys tickling you while his hips sensually thrust in and out, feeling the way you squeeze around him as breathless and airy giggles escape past your lips. He loves whispering into your ear while running his tongue along it before taking your lobe between his teeth and lightly tugging.  

💉: 

Breeding Kink/Creampie: Mr. Silvair, after learning more about human reproduction, has a deep-seated curiosity regarding whether or not the two of you would be able to have offspring. That’s kind of what starts this particular kink for him – he wants to know if you both are sexually compatible in that aspect, and he is curious what the resulting child would look and act like if they were born in the other world. If you’re unable to give birth or get pregnant, even if his initial interest in breeding is certainly from a more scientific aspect, he still finds the image of you full of his seed while it drips down the curve of your ass to be quite arousing. 

Bondage/Shibari (Giving): He enjoys tying you up and pinning you down, being able to have full control over you in the bedroom. He’s perfectly content if you agree to light bondage, like having your hands restrained, and would never ask you to do anything more than that. However, if you trust him enough and feel comfortable doing some more intense bondage, he’s not going to complain. Would definitely be interested in the art of shibari, finding the way the rope looks pressing into your skin tantalizing. 

Orgasm Control/Denial (Giving): Another kink that feeds into his desire for control. Mr. Silvair enjoys being the one in charge of your release, and he likes seeing how far he can push you until you finally break and plead for him to let you cum. He loves seeing how stupid and desperate he can make you, sometimes with just his fingers alone. 

Overstimulation (Giving): Much like orgasm control/denial, he likes pushing you to your breaking point. However, unlike the previous bullet, he likes seeing how much stimulation you can take until you’re crying for him to stop. He thinks it’s fascinating, seeing how quickly your desire for his touch can change – one moment you’re begging for him to touch you, and the next you’re weakly pushing his hand away. He does eventually relent, of course, but only after letting you cry for a bit. 

Dacryphilia: There’s something about seeing your tear-streaked face that makes it feel like he’s just been hit with an arrow in his chest. It’s endearing and oh-so cute the way you look while you sob all because he’s making you feel that good. It makes him feel proud, in a way, seeing you in such a pathetic state all because of him. 

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

👣: He enjoys having sex with you on a bed (boring, I know), but he likes the softness of the mattress and the many pillows and blankets that can be used to bring even more comfort by keeping the heat from your bodies trapped. He also likes taking you in small, enclosed spaces, like an empty locker or cabinet (sorry folks with claustrophobia). Much like the reasoning with the bed, he likes how the smaller space forces you both to be immensely close to each other. Plus, these spaces bring him comfort, so why not mix the two things that make him feel safe together? 

💉: Either in his laboratory/operation room or in one of the many different cages or prison cells that he has access to (bonus points if you allow him to chain you up hehe). Mr. Silvair doesn’t need a soft mattress or pillows to enjoy sex with you. He’s fine taking you on his operation table or the cold concrete floor of the small prison cell, even if your back moving up and down across the ground rubs your skin raw. He’ll patch you up after, no worries, but he doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles to have an enjoyable time. 

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

👣: Sweet words and gentle touches. The other world is one full of violence and death, one where survival trumps all else. While there are entities like him who only resort to violence when either their safety or the safety of someone they’re fond of is in danger, it’s still not a happy or bright place to exist. Mr. Crawling does what he can to enjoy life, laughing in situations that probably aren’t even that funny just to try and make existing more enjoyable. Then you come along and make him feel cared for – loved – and safe, and he’s never been happier. Being able to lay with you, to feel you clench around his cock with your warmth while you pepper kisses across his face and let him know how good he is… Yeah, this is the life. 

💉: Power and control. He enjoys being able to restrict your movement, being able to dictate when and where you’re allowed to cum and, if you disobey him, he’ll punish you with a sadistic smile on his face. However, he would be lying if he said that was all. Mr. Silvair thinks the fact you trust him with your safety – your life, your heart, your existence – gets him going, whether he realizes it or not. Trusting another in the other world showcases how much two people believe in the fact the other would not do anything to purposefully harm them, and you feel that way toward him (and he feels the same toward you). Whenever you call out his “name,” the one you had given him, he finds his hips unconsciously moving even faster at the sound...

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👣: Anything involving pain would be a hard no for Mr. Crawling, both giving and receiving. Even though his senses are dull and what would be extremely painful for a human wouldn’t be for him, he still doesn’t particularly enjoy being harmed. When it comes to hurting you in any way, that’s pretty much something he will never concede on. He doesn’t want to do a single thing to hurt you, even if it’s an enjoyable kind of pain. 

💉: Pretty much nothing is off the table for him – Mr. Silvair enjoys experimenting, and that’s no different for him in the bedroom. The only extremely hard no would be coprophilia since he just doesn’t see the appeal nor does he want to test to see if he would like it or not. I also feel like he wouldn’t necessarily want a bratty partner or a partner who is constantly trying to take control back in the bedroom. 

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

👣: Loves giving oral 101%, and he will give it to you anywhere – in public, in private, while you’re sleeping (with your consent, of course). Mr. Crawling adores having his mouth on you, being able to taste every single part of you while his tongue forces its way inside you, feeling your release dripping past his lips or dribbling down his chin… You taste good, too, better than anything he’s ever had before; he might get addicted to it, to be honest. He eats you out/blows you like a man starving, wanting a chance to have a taste and make you cry out his name while you pull harshly on his black locks and encourage him to keep going. He’s very enthusiastic about it, too, putting in so much effort and energy to get you cumming on his face or in his mouth. 

💉: Prefers giving oral over receiving it, but it’s not his favorite thing to do either way. It’s nothing personal, he just prefers using his hands, his cock, or a toy to get you off rather than his mouth. If he does allow you to give him a blowjob, he’ll place a collar around your neck and pull on the chain if you get cheeky – after all, he’s the one in charge here. Mr. Silvair enjoys making you kneel in front of him, watching you with a small smile as you take him into your hands and pump once or twice before taking him into your mouth. If the rare occurrence happens when he gives you head, you better thank the universe. He looks so hot, holding your thighs apart while he slowly runs his tongue along your length/slit and teases you until you’re asking him to touch you more. 

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

👣: Enjoys the slower and sensual side of things, but he typically can’t control himself as soon as he’s inside of you, so he ends up being somewhat fast and rough (not all the time, though... his thrusts remain immensely unpredictable no matter what, and he never seems to find a good rhythm to follow). Mr. Crawling enjoys the intimacy of sex, and he finds comfort in the closeness of your bodies while you two are connected at the hips. He loves being able to hold your hands and place kisses across your cheeks. Sometimes, he’s so caught up in the act of showering you with words of praise and sweet displays of affection that he forgets the fact he’s currently inside you and is supposed to be moving. He does see the appeal of rougher sex, though – it makes him feel almost animalistic whenever you two decide to set the pace for the night. 

💉: Mr. Silvair can quickly switch between the two, sometimes almost at a break-neck speed, to the point it feels like you got whiplash from the sudden change of deep and slow thrusts to fast and somehow even deeper ones (he’s very precise when it comes to hitting those sweet spots inside of you – it’s actually kind of terrifying how quickly he can locate them). He pretty much does whatever he thinks will get the most reaction out of your body and acts accordingly – nothing more, nothing less. He tends to prefer rougher and faster sex, enjoying the noises the quick snap of his hips can draw out of your mouth. However, sometimes, he finds himself preferring a slower and softer pace. This way, he’s able to focus on and truly soak in the expression on your face and appreciate the way your body feels under his palms (this sometimes just leads to you cock warming him). 

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down for anything at any time. Pretty much, if you ask him to have sex, he’ll happily do it for you. Need him to eat you out or give you a blowjob, he’ll gladly oblige! After all, he is always pretty much kneeling, so he’s not being made to go out of his way to do it (even if he would go out of his way to please you). Want something more than just his tongue? That’s perfectly fine, too! There’s a private room over there he’ll gladly take you in, or maybe you’d want to try doing it in the empty locker? He’ll try not to take too long, but it’s hard since he loves being able to enjoy you to the fullest. So, Mr. Crawling can do quickies for sure, but he likes being able to take his time with you.  

💉: While he’s not opposed to quickies, he prefers being able to have proper sex with you to get the most out of it. After all, he can’t exactly see how long it takes for you to break or how much time it takes for you to start crying and babbling if you only have a few minutes to enjoy one another. However, he does make it a little challenge for himself to see how quickly he can get you to climax. Mr. Silvair will even make educated guesses on how fast you’ll finish just by making note of your current expression, body language, etc. He likes seeing how flustered you get if you think someone is going to enter the room the two of you are in, begging him to go faster which only makes him want to slow down – how mean! 

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down to experiment but, as stated before, he doesn’t want to try anything that causes him or you harm, even if pain is something you enjoy. He just has no desire to hurt you in any way, something which is quite different from other members of the cast who are definitely more sadistic (cough, Mr. Silvair and Mr. Machete, cough). I feel like he would be down to partake in certain aspects of BDSM, specifically B/D (bondage and discipline) and D/S (dominance and submission). He just wants to have a good time and be close to you, both physically and emotionally. 

💉: 100% down to experiment with anything (except the previously mentioned coprophilia). If you wanted to try some breathplay or impact play or even blood play, he’d be down for it. I honestly think he would enjoy breathplay since it adds more to the differential in power that he enjoys so much (there’s also a stirring in his chest when he sees how much you trust him with your life, but shhh…). Mr. Silvair is a man hungry for information and new experiences, so yes, he’s willing to try a variety of different things even if they could potentially be dangerous – he’ll always make sure you return to your original form. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

👣 and 💉: Both of them are inhuman, which means that neither of them need any food, water, or rest to survive. Honestly, the two of them have unlimited amounts of stamina, and they can go for as long as you need them to (which could be two rounds or even eight – nothing is holding them back in the stamina department). 

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them owns any toys because, well… you can’t access them easily in the other world. If they do end up there, though, they’re probably dirty or damaged beyond repair (please do not use nasty sex toys, people – infections and diseases are no joke). 

👣: Mr. Crawling would be down to use toys on you! After all, why not? It’ll just make the experience more fun, right? You’ll probably have to explain what he’s supposed to do with them, though, since he’s not quite sure what some of them are for. If you want to use toys on him, he’s completely fine with that! Want to wear a strap and give him backshots? Go right ahead! Want to tape vibrators to him until he’s whining and writhing? He’d be happy to oblige! Overall, he’s pretty chill about it and is somewhat enthusiastic about adding toys into your sex life. 

💉: Mr. Silvair enjoys using sex toys on you, some of his favorites being cock rings/chastity belts, strangely-shaped dildos, and vibrators. He loves being able to secure the variety of different vibrators he owns to your body, making sure to cover every erogenous zone he’s noted. He doesn’t typically want toys used on him (but he’d probably try out a variety of different sex toys on himself after a while, though, curious about how each of them felt or what they did), however, and the only one he’d be willing to use consistently would be fleshlights. He’d make you watch him use it, never once allowing you to use them on him. 

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

👣: Mr. Crawling is very fair, and he always makes sure to give you exactly what you want in the bedroom. However, that’s not to say he never teases you, he just doesn’t do it very frequently. Sometimes when he’s going down on you, he’ll pause his minstrations to nip at or kiss the fat of your thighs, keeping your hips held down so you can’t buck up against his mouth. When you start getting antsy, he just giggles at your expression before returning his attention to that oh-so-needy part of you. 

💉: If the word unfair was personified, it would be Mr. Silvair. I’d argue teasing you and making you cry – either because you can’t cum or have cum ten times in a row – are the aspects of sex that he enjoys the most. Edging you is one of his favorite things, though, watching you whine and try to move your hips on your own when he stops moving… bad move, though, because now he’s just going to make you wait even longer for release. 

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

👣: He’s not loud, per se, but he does make quite a variety of different noises whenever the two of you are intimate. He whimpers and whines frequently while you’re having sex – they’re barely audible, high-pitched, and come out sounding as though he’s completely out of breath. Sometimes you wonder if he’s in pain with the noises he makes, but he’s not. He just really enjoys being able to feel you like this as he pants like a dog in heat. 

💉: Completely quiet most of the time. Really, the only noises you’ll probably get out of him are barely audible sighs or the sound of his breathing hitching when he feels you stretch/tighten around him. It’s not that Mr. Silvair doesn’t enjoy having sex with you, he just doesn’t express that feeling verbally. You can tell in the way his hand squeezes the fat of your thigh or the way his hips stutter when he moves in and out that he’s having a good time. 

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

👣: Mr. Crawling loves taking showers or baths with you, though he leans more towards baths since it’s less painful on his joints (I headcanon that Mr. Crawling can stand, but walking for extended periods of time is painful for him – ambulatory wheelchair user Mr. Crawling when?). While yes, he can technically sit in the shower, having water spray his face isn’t exactly pleasant… He doesn’t view bathing with you as sexual, he just finds it relaxing as he helps you wash your back or you help him make sure all the soap is out of his hair. His favorite scent would have to be lavender – it’s very calming for him. 

💉: He keeps a journal tucked away full of terms and gestures from your world. Mr. Silvair has a deep desire to understand humans and everything they have to offer, even if he believes it's from a stance of craving knowledge (really, he wants to be able to express his endearment of you in a manner you can understand). He has a page on kissing and different kinds of kisses, a page on gestures of endearment, another on hugging and cuddling… The fact that humans’ bodies release a hormone whenever they simply spend time to bond with another socially, a hormone that turns the dial on their brain for whatever emotion they’re currently experiencing, is fascinating to him. 

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

👣: Mr. Crawling is tall – and I mean extremely tall whenever he stands up (my man has got to at least be seven feet), so I can assume that he’s probably relatively proportionate under the belt. I feel like he would be big, almost concerningly so, clocking in at around 8 inches in length. Even though his size is impressive, his dick doesn’t have much girth to it and is on the thinner side, but it is thicker towards the base compared to the head (not that you can take all of him – you can certainly give it a try, though). It’s on the veinier side, too, with a very distinct and present one on the underside of his cock. 

💉: Much like pretty much the entire cast, Mr. Silvair is also on the taller half of the height spectrum. However, I feel as though he would have a more modest, yet of course still impressive dick size. I imagine him to be 6 ½ inches in length and relatively thick from the base to the head with very little change in girth. Whenever you see his cock, you’re kind of awestruck for a moment because how can a man have such a nice-looking dick?? It doesn’t make sense! There’s barely any hair, there’s no visible veins or bumps, and it’s long and thick enough to drive you wild… Plus, it’s just really nice to look at, honestly. 

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

👣 and 💉: Okay, so I know others probably will not agree with me here… but I honestly don’t think anyone in the cast has much of a sex drive, let alone a high one. I mean, they’re not human, so their cultural/social norms are different than ours, and I wouldn’t hold them to “typical” human desires on a biological/psychological level either. As I said before, I doubt any of them have been laid because sex just isn’t something the residents in the other world partake in – they’re too busy killing/fighting others, eating humans who find themselves lost in the other world, etc. Is this my asexual and world-building brain working? Probably haha. 

👣: Mr. Crawling really only wants sex whenever you want it, but he’s always enthusiastic and does get aroused whenever you ask if he wants to be intimate. While he does love feeling the warmth around his dick whenever you’re clamping down on him, almost like you were hugging him and not wanting to let him go, he enjoys the emotional connection during the moment more than anything else. I headcanon him (and all of the cast, to some degree) as existing somewhere on the aroace-spectrum. For Mr. Crawling, I see him as being reciproromantic/sexual with an average libido – he gets riled up whenever you’re riled up, though there are times he does get horny without you needing to do or say anything.  

💉: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair will have sex if you ask him to – he’ll make you beg for it, though, so he’s not as nice as the former. He prefers the control/power he gets from having sex rather than the sole act of intercourse (not to say he doesn’t enjoy the feeling, though). Plus, he finds the activity interesting since he knows it’s something most humans partake in with one another for a variety of reasons, from procreation to recreation. If you ask him to have sex and he isn’t in the mood, he’ll just use his hands or some toys and play around with you until you’re satisfied. I headcanon Mr. Silvair as being quoiromantic and eegosexual with a low libido. 

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t need to sleep (you know… being non-human and all), but he’ll curl up next to you on the bed and hold your body close to his while pretending to sleep alongside you. It’s kind of adorable, the way his head is nuzzled under your neck while his legs and arms are wrapped around your body, holding you close to him like you were a bodypillow or large stuffed animal. While you sleep, though, he’ll eventually place his head against your chest, listening intently to the sound of your heartbeat and the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath. Moments like this, laying there with you in silence, make his mind wander to scenarios with you he’ll never be able to fully experience. 

💉: Does not rest often, finding it a waste of time that could be spent doing something else. He understands you need your sleep, though, so he lets you do it in peace after you both have had sex. Mr. Silvair always manages to somehow make sure you have enough pillows to keep you comfortable or blankets to keep you from getting cold (you can’t help but wonder where he finds clean linens in such a grimy place…). Occasionally, however, he finds himself sitting next to you on the bed, fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair before he pulls his hand back as though you had burnt him – he doesn’t understand it, and he’s desperate to figure out an answer. 

[totalswag]

hey i love your work so much and if it’s not to much go ask i was wondering if you could do a fic where fem!reader is part of the cast on obx and she is really close friends with drew where they are flirting and what not and everyone ships them and they are at an interview with the rest of the cast and that gets brought up? sorry if that doesn’t make sense! if you don’t have time it’s completely

behind the scenes ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you so much lovie!! i'm open to take requests and write them. i've thought of this concept before and all i gotta say is thank you for requesting this because I NEED THIS!! super sorry for not posting for a small while, there were stuff i needed to take care of first.

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summary having a close relationship with drew that send hints to fans they like each other based on the way they flirt with each other.

warning(s) flirting, shipping, co-stars secretly like each other?

Being apart of the Outer Banks cast has been such a blessing. You've created relationships with people you consider family now and who you can count on no matter what the circumstances are. Being on set for weeks on end filming scenes and making memories is what you look forward to most.

You grew closer with Drew Starkey because your characters are dating in the show and always next together on set too. Drew has become someone that you consider very important in your life.

You joined the Outer Banks cast during the second season. Drew appeared in a couple appearances near the end of the season, implying that he is interested in someone— love interest. You recall fans going nuts trying to figure out if this will continue. Fast forward two seasons, and your characters are together.

After a long day of filming, the cast decided to gather for dinner at a local beachside restaurant. The atmosphere was vibrant, with laughter and the sound of waves breaking on the shore. You and Drew were seated next to each other, much to the joy of your cast members, who were closely watching your interaction with Drew.

"Drew, look at the camera," you softly sang, your phone in your hand on the table, Drew in the frame of the video— he was speaking to Rudy across the table. He gives you a look that shows he knows you are heard before looking down at your phone and waving.

"Oh! "Hello there," he smiles even more when he sees himself on the screen—you giggle at the end of the video before sharing it to your Instagram story. 

"You posted it on your story?" he inquires, his body language focused solely on you. "I obviously had to; it was cute," you said as you placed your phone on the table next to your wallet. You suddenly felt nervous in front of Drew.

He raises his eyebrows in satisfaction. "Cute, huh?" He smirks and smiles, patting your thigh.

Fans began to ship you and Drew together as your relationship grew. The chemistry between you two is clearly obvious on and off screen, which is why you perform scenarios so well. Fans go berserk every time you post something on social media about Drew.

You two flirt without even realizing it at times. You will compliment each other as if you were a relationship, but this is nothing out of the norm for you two. Even your cast members have boarded the train and made a few comments about when you'll finish up together. 

You can't lie, he's an attractive young man. There's no doubt about that.

Few hours after you posted on your story, fans have been discussing the video you shared in which Drew looks at you as if you are the most beautiful person on the planet and no one else is present.

Today, you and the cast will be doing interviews all day to promote Season four. For the first portion, everyone will sit in the same room as the interviewer, but thereafter everyone will be separated.

"Alright, everyone," said the interviewer, "we've got some fun questions from fans today, and they're dying to know more about the dynamic between some of our favorite cast members."

Everyone said "Oooo," anxious to see what else the interviewer would say.

"Let's start with a fan favorite," the interviewer added, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "There's been a lot of talk about the chemistry between you two." She pointed to Drew and you. "Care to share any insights on that?"

Your stomach dropped.

The question hung in the air, drawing a chorus of “Oohs” and playful nudges from the cast. You felt your cheeks heat up as you exchanged a glance with Drew. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips

"Well," Drew said, leaning in slightly. "Y/N and I have always been close. We simply clicked, you know?"

"Really?" the interviewer asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Because the way you two flirt on and off set is pretty convincing."

You laughed and shook your head. "We simply have fun with it. Drew is a terrific person, and we like joking around. "It keeps things moving on set."

"From our first reading together, I knew she was going to be a great co star of mine and we've formed an amazing bond throughout the years" Drew says with his hands. In gratitude, you give him a pat on the back.

Your cast mates' eyes are constantly drawn to you and Drew since they can tell you have mutual feelings for each other. Granted, you two have scenes together all the time and have developed a strong bond. However, you consider being more than friends with him.

The interview continued on with more questions popping up that were exciting to answer. In the back of your mind you were thinking about the question about Drew and you— do you want more?

Later that evening, you and Drew returned to your apartment and relaxed in your living room. The city lights outside your window gave a soft glow across the room, and the steady hum of the air conditioner broke the silence. You'd both changed into more comfortable clothes, eager to relax after a long day.

"Today was something, huh?" Drew murmured, breaking the silence as he sprawled down on your couch, seemingly at peace.

"Yeah, it was," you said, sitting next to him. "They really went all in on the whole shipping thing."

Drew chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart race. "Yes, they did. "Makes you think, doesn't it?"

He sat up, his face instantly serious. "About Us. I mean, everybody sees it. Hell, we see it, don't we?

Your breath became locked in your throat. The playful flirtation, the lingering touches, the way your heart raced whenever he was close—it all hinted at something more than friendship. However, hearing him say it aloud was another. It made it real.

"I suppose we do," you confessed gently.

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[inzaynety]

investigation: start! ⤫

➢ summary: when visiting the third division, there’s never a shortage of questions and confusion about you. a few take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of it.

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 2574 words, nosy officers, jealous hoshina, suggestive at the end, iharu has a crush on you, slight spoilers for the manga for certain instances to make the plans make sense but it’s vague

➢ notes: i was reading thru character profiles and it made writing this a little easier w the interactions 🫡 hope u enjoy

prequel - pt. 1 of slice & dice - pt. 2

The lives of the higher-ups were always a topic of discussion for the members of the defense force. If anything, it seemed to be entertainment and gossip to exchange and bond over between divisions. One of the hot topics includes Commander Ashiro’s childhood, courtesy of Kafka. 

The only person they couldn’t get anything on was their own Vice-Commander. He was already an enigma himself with that cheerful yet unsettling grin, and they were all witnesses to the receiving end of his narrowed stares during training. The most they could get out of him was a boisterous laugh that shared nothing. They were getting bored. 

But with boredom comes the urge to seek new things. And in this case, dirt on Vice-Commander Hoshina.

There wasn’t much they could see initially–until you came along. 

Now, you weren’t an uncommon sight for the Third Division officers. They would see you hanging around Okonogi or eyeing a few of the new officers during training with an intense gaze that they didn’t know if they should feel flattered or intimidated. Most of the time, however, you were in close proximity to Hoshina. During division meetings, the officers never saw a day without the two of you conversing in some way whether it be through words or standing right next to each other. There was no blatant physical contact but the distance between you two was a little odd to say the least. 

So some took it upon themselves to start a mission.

Kikoru would never voice her true intentions out loud but it was clear that she was as invested as her companions were if her constant questions about the matter said anything about it. She was influenced by her close peers and their enthusiasm definitely fed that.

Reno didn’t want anything to do with it… at first. He changed his mind after only an hour and he thinks it’s due to spending too much time with a certain someone who loved entertainment. Iharu sneezes in the distance. 

Kafka was simultaneously wanting to join the younger members in their antics, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk another week of pushups. While he would admit that his arms were tougher, those exercises reminded him of the embarrassment every time he miscalled his commander. But the thought of having some knowledge about Hoshina was interesting, to say the least. 

It seemed they were all bored overall. 

Ultimately, they all decided to make a plan and figure it out separately. Your division was visiting for a week and reconvening would wait until the weekend. It was time to investigate. 

Minase was the one to kick it off, prompting her fellow members to gain more confidence. It all started with an innocent encounter in the operations room when she, Kikoru, and Hakua passed by. 

There were voices inside but the most prominent ones were yours and Hoshina’s. The Vice-Commander was a little surprised to see them when they intercepted at the door but it is quickly masked when you step out, a hint of a smile on your face possibly due to the joke he told you only moments before.

“Now, what’re you three doin’ here?” The Vice-Commander asks, hands in his pockets while you stand slightly behind him with your head tilted. 

Minase always had a good ear being a great listener for her peers and was able to hear what he had said to you. It was a flirty quip, but not enough to not be told to a close friend. Upon seeing that she had caught both of your attention, she smiles.

“Good afternoon!” You greet her as well but a silence falls over you five. It’s a bit awkward–Kikoru side-eyes her friend to see what the whole stopping and rushing over here was for, but Minase had a plan already set. “We were actually looking for you, Commander,” she looks directly at you and you raise a brow at the implication of her tone.

“Oh?” You take a step forward. “What for?”

“Some training tips, is all. After the last session you gave us, it motivated us to work on our blade work even more!” Like Hoshina, your preferred way of fighting had nothing to do with the guns everyone else used. You hum in acknowledgement. 

The Third was full of promising new officers and it would be a waste to not help them hone their skills even more. But you were sure Hoshina was pushing them enough with his own swordsmanship. You even learned a lot from him yourself. 

Hakua stifles a choked sound when Minase elbows her gently, not expecting to be put on the spot just like that. And despite already being told of their group’s plan beforehand and having her outgoing personality, it was still a nerve-racking request. 

“Y-Yeah! You seem close to Commander Narumi so we thought you guys would have similar fighting styles.” In your head, you think they’re referring to how he’s the strongest and anyone would want to learn from the best of the best. Gen wasn’t the easiest to get a hold of and you felt flattered they would ask you directly, so of course you would help out.

On the side, Kikoru is tasked with watching the Vice-Commander. Not all reactions were verbal and she was the most observant of the three, but she couldn’t maintain her eyes on him the whole time lest he get suspicious. 

But now she thinks her eyes have deceived her. At the mention of Commander Narumi, Hoshina’s eyes peek open. She sees how they darken more as Hakua talks about your fighting styles but just like his initial surprise earlier, that expression left as quickly as it came. 

She tucks that away.

Vice-Commander Hoshina had his “Kaiju killing eyes” at the mention of Commander Narumi. Don’t know what that could mean. - Kikoru

That’s jealousy! - Minase

Now you see what I mean about his eyes?? - Kafka

Iharu was infatuated with you from the get-go, though you would say that his first inspiration was Commander Ashiro. Saving him that day was what began his journey into the Defense Force, but it was you who motivated him to alter his fighting style to keep up with Reno. 

Speaking of the latter, he was sitting beside him in the cafeteria as the two tried to think of a plan for their part. They caught wind that Kikoru’s group got a promising lead and it was up to the rest to solidify it. But they’ve been stuck for the past hour trying to come up with their own thing and asking for training would be a stolen idea.

Reno watches as more and more officers walk into the shared area and grab their meals from the line. They’re a mix of your division and the Third Division members conversing among themselves and he immediately sits up with his idea. Iharu turns his head in surprise to find Reno’s attention already turned to him.

“What? Got an idea?” Reno nods fervently and brings both of their heads down to speak more quietly. Iharu raises his brows at the proposal and his cheeks turn pink. He’s outspoken, yeah, and confident, sure, but this was you. 

His friend pleads with him. He relents.

It’s not too long before you step into the cafeteria with the goal of lunch like everyone else. Spending time with Okonogi was great and all but she fried your brain with data only she and your Operations Leader Sora could keep up with. This was grounds for a well-deserved meal before your joint training session as well. 

Iharu watches as you get in line and as he stands up to line up behind you, and like Reno predicted as you grab your tray, you see the officer. To his and Iharu’s surprise, you greet him first. 

“Officer Furuhashi, right?” You ask after grabbing your tray. There’s a bright look on your face at the excitement of seeing the man who impressed your previous Commander. He shakily nods and you smile in response. “Commander Ogata said a lot of things about you.”

Iharu lets out a polite chuckle. “All good things, I hope?” He gets a laugh out of you and you both fall into a comfortable conversation as you move down the line. Reno watches the door and he hopes the timing works out, or Plan B would have to be used. At least Iharu was having a good time. 

It’s when the two of you reach the end of the line and walk towards Reno’s table does Hoshina appear from the doorway. The red-haired officer doesn’t see him yet and your conversation is at the point when you have a hand on his arm as you’re gushing over his newfound ability with his Kaiju suit. He feels a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder and Iharu freezes, looking to his side to see his Vice-Commander. 

“Vice–”

“Afternoon, Officer Furuhashi. Whatcha two talkin’ about?” By then your hand still hasn’t left his arm and he feels Hoshina’s grip get tighter. Iharu places his tray down onto the nearest table and your hand drops to your side but you didn’t notice. 

“His new ability,” you answer, “we were talking about it earlier with the operations team, remember? I was just looking for you, Officer Furuhashi, I’m so glad I got to talk to you.” Your answer is so sincere and he feels like he could melt right then and there. But to the side of him, there was also a strange sensation in the air. 

It was akin to bloodlust. 

“The same here.” Iharu answers and bows, “Please, enjoy your lunchtime.” Before you can say anything more, he turns on his heel straight towards Reno with his head down. 

The two sit there in silence as you look on in confusion before Hoshina pulls you along with him for his lunch. They aren’t looking at the two of you but Reno already got what he needed.

Vice-Commander Hoshina almost broke Furuhashi’s shoulder. I saw he also had one of his blades behind him while they were all talking. - Reno

WHAT?? - Iharu

By the way, what was plan B? - Kikoru

Iharu asks her directly if she’s dating the Vice-Commander. - Reno

HELLO?? - Iharu

Hi. - Kafka

Kafka knew he was going to be the last of the bunch to get this done. The digital community board on their group chat was a smart idea by Minase and he was able to see what the younger officers were trying to do with this mission. 

Kikoru and her friends got the first response but it needed more. Reno and Iharu got the “more” and all-in-all needed one final piece to set the puzzle. Kafka was proud of them but was currently in a situation with absolutely no idea as to what he was going to do. He thought that was more than enough to assume there was a relationship between the two of you, but Kikoru kicked him for that, too.

Was there any way to get you to confess about it? He thought about asking you directly but even though you were younger than him, you still held a higher title. And he didn’t want to face the potential wrath you could unleash for asking such a question. Were you the type to dish out punishments like the Vice-Commander? Again, he didn’t want to risk it. 

He had to do it soon too, you and your division were leaving in the morning and it would be another month or so before you and Hoshina would be seen in the same vicinity. 

Kafka sighs and runs a hand through his hair. This was troublesome but they were counting on him. 

He looks around the library he’s doing his nightly study session and sees that the time is very close to midnight. He’s shocked and now there’s absolutely no way he’s going to catch you at this hour, not unless you were training anyway. His best bet was to find you early in the morning but even that was a bit of a gamble.

Deciding on his defeat, Kafka puts his books and pens away before heading out into the hallway back to his room. He gets a sense of deja vu when he sees the light of the training room still on and assumes it’s the Vice-Commander again, and it wouldn’t hurt to watch him in action, right?

He walks up to the slightly open door and stops in his tracks at the sight. Both you and Hoshina were holding blades. Your’s were slightly longer and his were the typical ones he used during outside missions. Needless to say, they were the real deal. 

In the blink of an eye, you’re lunging towards each other and Kafka thinks if he blinks even once, he’d miss about five slashes shared between you two. Following Hoshina alone was already too much but watching someone match his speed? It was out of this world. 

The match only lasts for about half a minute, ending with a knife to both of your throats from the other. A moment of heavy breathing follows before you groan and toss your head back in exasperation, both of you simultaneously lowering your weapons. 

“I still can’t get that last one right!” 

“It was close! And hey, ya got the blade to my neck.”

“I always get the blade to your neck.” You roll your eyes. Hoshina was the best swordsman there was and it was incomparable to your personal weapon, so of course he would be better than you at it. ‘Whatever, I’m heading to bed.” Hoshina lets out a laugh. You put away the practice weapons and as you head to the door, Hoshina pulls you back to him by your wrist. 

“Wait a second,” he says and leans his head down to yours. 

Kafka, in the meantime, ducked his head to avoid being seen at least a little longer knowing he was not running away to hide in time. There aren't any more words being exchanged and he thinks there’s something else going on in that small bit of silence. 

He pops his head up and makes eye contact with Hoshina’s open eye. 

Got pushups. - Kafka

Damn. Sorry old man. - Iharu

So you got caught? Amateur. - Kikoru

Leave me alone! I tried. - Kafka

So you really didn’t see anything? - Reno

Oh, yeah. They kissed. - Kafka

…

What? - Kikoru

I got caught by the Vice-Commander. Scared me. :(- Kafka

…

HUH?? - Kikoru

Bonus:

After Kafka leaves, his head hung low at the premonition of more punishment, your arms stay on Hoshina’s shoulders. 

“Did you have to do that?” You muse, playing with the shorter hairs near the nape of his neck. He shivers at the feeling but his eyes open slightly and they’re not looking at you so softly.

“Did ya have to talk about him before training?” He counters back. He knows what you’ve been doing. You scoff.

You also know what he’s been doing. The murderous intention at the mention of you and Gen, the physical warning during lunch at Iharu, and even a mark of possession to the poor older man who was just joining in the fun of his peers. 

“Of course,” you bring him down to you, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. You feel his hands tighten on your waist. 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

©inzaynety 2024

[fefern]

✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

Lingyang

Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 

As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?

His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 

He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 

He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 

His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 

He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 

He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 

Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!

Rover (Male)

Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?

He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 

When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 

“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”

His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 

He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 

He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 

When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 

Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 

Jiyan

As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 

Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 

He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 

His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.

When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 

Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 

Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.

Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 

Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.

[badgerbl00d]

captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days. 

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now.  A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient. 

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians. 

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head.  An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.” 

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back. 

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off. 

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright. 

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well. 

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards. 

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message. 

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?” 

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...  

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath. 

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance. 

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never. 

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped. 

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love. 

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned. 

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

 You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough. 

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks. 

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said. 

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

[saltymarshmall0w]

Another Dp x DC prompt inspired by a Danny Phantom episode.

Identity Crisis- The episode where Danny flies through one of his parent's inventions (A dream catcher, but let's all replace that little detail with a net or a strainer) and separates into Phantom and Fenton. Fenton is glad to give up being a hero and be lazy with his friends while Phantom turns into the embodiment of a heroic archetype.

----

There was an empty, gaping chasm in him nestled somewhere between his spotty memory and the apathy that constantly settled over his brain like a weighted blanket. 

He could see it in the way it felt like something was missing when he looked in the mirror.

In the way Danny enjoyed things but couldn’t list what exactly he liked. 

His parents knew it too. His dad didn’t look him in the eye anymore, and his mom always made a disappointed “tsk” noise when they tested his blood to “check if his levels were going down yet” then questioned if he was using the decontamination soap. He did, even if it made his hands burn and left Danny feeling lethargic after every shower.

They moved to Gotham of all places overnight, before Danny could so much as say goodbye to his friends. 

(He knew it was weird. He didn’t even remember packing his stuff—but he didn’t have to do the work so, whatever) 

They locked him in the house all day as if he would go out on the streets and fight crime while they weren’t looking or something. They were being controlling freaks!

(He should probably run away. It was obvious, even to him, that he was being abused… but that sounded like a lot of effort and not all that fun, so he’d rather just stay in his comfy bed and watch tiktok. He could ignore the sounds coming from the basement until he was 18.) 

Uncle Vlad would occasionally stop by to say thinly veiled threats and act all weird– once or twice asking about “Phantom” or a “core” whatever that meant. It was easier to just let Vlad send him to a rich-people school and drag him to a couple galas. At least he was actually getting out of the house. 

Whatever was going on with Danny was probably something he should be concerned about. He should go to a doctor, or the police, or his obviously-a-vigilante classmate for help rather than attempting to create half-thought out inventions to solve a problem he couldn’t even describe that he inevitably would forget about in favor of watching tiktok. 

According to google, the headaches, the tiredness, the dry skin, the disorientation- it all pointed toward dehydration. So, he was just overreacted anyway and should probably just drink more water. 

Whatever, Doomed came out with a mobile version for phones so, he’s way more interested in that anyway.

-

Basically, Human!Danny does not remember anything to do with Phantom and he’s missing a lot of his key components. 

lots of procrastinating, lots of apathy and emotions are extremely dull. 

He doesn’t realize how much he misses his friends or his obsessions unless they’re directly in front of him. 

I think it would be a fun writing exercise, questioning how Danny would act without Phantom based on the events in Identity Crisis. 

-Emotional incompetence. (He’s awful at identifying how he feels about things)

-Shameless Dopamine-seeking behavior. 

-Doing things without thinking of the consequences.

-A completely gray moral compass

-

Meanwhile, with Phantom—There are different levels of messed up we could take this. 

After Jack and Maddie separated Phantom from Fenton, they tried their best to get their son (who, thankfully, doesn’t remember being possessed for nearly a year) to decontaminate fully by moving to Gotham, while keeping their subject in the lab so they could keep running tests on it. 

Unfortunately, the ectoplasm levels in Danny’s blood aren’t going down, despite weekly tests. 

Last night, Danny had a nightmare where his parents cut him open.

It was only a nightmare, of course. His parents were inventors. They specialized in making every-day objects into the shape of his dad’s face; they didn’t work in biology.

Still, the phantom pain of his mom snapping his ribcage open was too realistic, and he still didn’t have an explanation for the surgical scars he kept finding on his body. 

OR

Jack and Maddie separated Phantom and Fenton and decided it was time they gave up ghost hunting for the safety of their son. So, they sold the ghost to the GIW and used the funds to move to Gotham, the city with the least amount of ambient ectoplasm in hopes to fully decontaminate their son. 

Phantom is in the hands of the GIW until Fenton comes across him (probably due to Bat-related shenanigans) and instantly goes “Oh, shit. That’s my soul. I kinda need that back.” 

-I’d be kinda funny if at this point the bats all know Danny as an extremely relaxed civilian who’s smart and figured out all their identities, yes, but also has zero interest in vigilantism.

-They’re going to get the “soul” thing Danny was freaking out about back Asap but they need to do a bit of reconnaissance first and–

- Oh—

-Danny’s mission-impossible-ing his way into the highly secure government base. 

-and he’s, like, GOOD at it. WTF

OR

Phantom, separated from his human half, turns into Little Baby Man. And just tries his darndest as a tiny little cat-possum-snake thing to find his human half… and protect everyone he sees… and collect shiny things. Okay! It’s not his fault he keeps getting distracted!

Until!! He found his human!! Well, it wasn’t actually his human, but Phantom could tell his human had been around this human. Besides, he sure did like this human. And the human said he was cute. Which actually made him explode with happiness!! 

(The Waynes adopt little Baby Man, thinking he’s just a really weird alien cat) 

-

So, now for the DC part of this I’m gonna throw some ideas out there for some interactions and you can decide if you like ‘em or not. I basically just really liked the idea of Danny finding out his classmate’s/friend’s secret identity and just… being completely apathetic to it. 

I really flip flopped on his Designated Gotham Bf being either Tim or Damian, bc i think both would have a really interesting dynamic with a really apathetic yet insanely smart Danny, especially if you throw in Damian adopting LBM Phantom. 

You, (yes, You! The reader!) can take this as whatever Wayne child you chose and I’ll just refer to them as Robin from now on. 

Each of these separated bits are just a different new way I thought an identity reveal would happen, none of them are connected. 

-

*Danny, standing way too close to an active rouge attack, watching Robin and Batman fighting*: You know… that guy throwing around the stylized R’s around looks kinda like that cute guy from physics. 

Goon, currently trying to take Danny hostage: Yeah, whatever kid. 

-

Robin: Hey, so, I know the school is under attack right now, but I really need something from my locker so–

Danny *The new kid who so far has only slept in class*: Dude, I know you’re Robin. It’s, like, really obvious. Just go, I’ll cover for you. 

-

(while Fenton would not be inclined to help in a rouge attack, he still has the overconfidence of a super-powered being and some of the instincts that were ingrained into him after hundreds of fights)

Robin: Hey, Kid-I-don’t-know! This is an active gunfight! You should run!

Danny: Don’t worry Robin, there are no civilians around! I have time to wait around so when you’re done kicking ass we can get back to our group project. *thumbs up* 

-

Robin: B, this is my friend, Danny. Please be nice to him. 

Danny: Hey Batman. Rad. 

Bruce: Hrm

Robin: *spluttering* Pfft- Bruce- Bruce isn’t Batman! Haha! What makes you think that?

Danny:

Danny: Wait– We’re friends? 

-

Robin *very angsty moment*: Danny, I’m sorry. I only befriended you because I thought your parents were shady and wanted to investigate. The truth is… I’m Robin. 

Danny *This is a total shock to him. He had no idea. He should probably react appropriately*: If I had a nickel for every time I dated a vigilante’s civilian identity I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? 

Robin: Are you seriously quoting Phineas and Ferb right now??

Robin: Wait– which vigilante have you dated before?

Robin: Danny? You can’t just leave me hanging, Danny. 

Robin: Was it superboy? Because- Danny! I’m way cooler than superboy

—

Alternatively, consider the shift in dynamics when Danny is back “complete” and can finally feel regular emotions again. 

Like shame, for example.

Robin: Hey :) 

Danny: *Remembers anything he did as LBM  and calmly moves to the floor so he can curl up and die of embarrassment* 

Robin: ??? Are you okay? 

-

Robin *bats his pretty eyes*: So? You and Phantom are finally back together again. How do you feel?

Danny *hasn’t noticed his Paulina-level attraction or Sam-level crush on Robin before*: Bisexual. 

-

Misc:

Phantom: *growling at a mirror and repeatedly trying to attack it*

Robin: Yeah, we don’t really know what it is, but it’s cute. 

Robin: This is weird, He doesn’t usually warm up to people so quickly. Usually he’s really protective. 

Danny *completely calmly*: Oh, yeah. That's probably because it’s my soul. 

-

Bruce: Listen, I know you like my son-

Danny: Woah, hold on. Yeah, Robin is pretty great. Dopamine goes brrr around him, but I don’t have a crush on him or anything. 

Bruce: *gestures to Robin on the other side of the room, where Phantom is repeatedly giving Robin butterfly kisses and nuzzling into him*

Danny: ooh. 

--

Anyway! if you're at all inspired by this and write something the only requirement is that you have to tell me so I can read it too :) otherwise, go crazy!

[winterzsurprise]

A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.

Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)

“I think I’m ready.”

Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.

“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”

“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”

Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him. 

Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.

“Alright, what is it?”

Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.

But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.

Having a kid with both of your features…

It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”

The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”

“I think I’m ready for one.”

Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject. 

If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.

Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.

As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...

His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”

Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”

You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation. 

tik!

tok!

tik!

tok!

tik!

Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.

You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair. 

His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.

Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.

It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.

His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.

"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid." 

You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.

"You don't mind this one, yeah?"

"Rip it off."

He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.

"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."

You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.

His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.

But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.

"Fuck…" You whined.

"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."

He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.

You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.

"Mi vida..."

"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.

You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.

"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."

With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.

"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"

"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."

"P-please... Ah!"

Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.

"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.

Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.

"I-I'm close…"

"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."

Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his. 

"Come for me, cariño."

Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.

The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.

"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"

"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"

Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.

Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.

"You're wasting them."

Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.

The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.

Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.

"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."

[pathologicalreid]

Hi, I was hoping you could please write a Spencer x fem!reader where they're hanging out as friends but they get separated and she gets aggressively hit on and is uncomfy. He sees this, realizes he likes her in that way, gets jealous, and steps in to protect her? Please oh please!!!

red flags | S.R.

spencer steps in to protect you from a drunkard

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: protective!spencer, bars, alcohol, reader gets very aggressively hit on and is called a bitch and baby doll, reader is explicitly referred to as female (girl, lady, woman), kissing, spencer makes the first move (ooc?), the guy at the bar should be arrested ngl word count: 1.17k a/n: i fear i may have verged from the request, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you so very much for requesting!!!!! <333

Shaking your head, you stood up from the table, “It’s fine, I’ll go up to the bar.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from his seat, looking up at you with big brown eyes.

Smiling softly at him, you grabbed your purse off of the booth seat and walked across the restaurant to the bar. Neither you nor Spencer were really “bar” people, but this place was close enough to Marbury University’s campus that it felt worth your while.

That, and it had been deemed a “townie” bar by your students, so there was a low probability of running into any pupils here.

Dinner with your colleague had eventually turned into your entire night spent in that very booth, now that the kitchen had closed and the waitstaff clocked out for the night, you had to go to the bar to get water.

As you waited for the bartender to notice you, you turned your head back and shot Spencer a reassuring smile. You weren’t sure either of you had been in this situation before – no one wanted the night to end.

Next to you, a man nudged you with his arm, “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.” Judging by the smell of him, he’d had enough drinks for the entire bar.

“I’m just getting water,” you brushed the man off, holding up the number two to let the bartender know that you wanted two glasses of water.

Naturally, the drunkard next to you didn’t get the message, he continued to pester you, “We can’t have that, let me get you a drink, little lady.”

Demeaning nickname aside, you had no interest in drinking anything this man purchased. Crinkling your nose, you responded, “Thanks, but I’m really not interested.”

He leaned over the bar and looked at you, bright green eyes and salt and pepper hair – your unwelcome companion was probably old enough to be your father. “In me or the drink?” He asked as you tried not to gag at the sheer stench of whiskey on his breath.

Resolutely, you decided not to answer the man’s questions. Your attempts at placating him were obviously not turning out the way you had wanted them to.

“Hey,” he interrupted your thoughts. “I asked you a question,” he prodded.

He was persistent. Persistent men were bothersome, but persistent drunk men were dangerous. Red flags were appearing in your head as you looked over at him, “Neither, I suppose.” Glancing back at your table, you hoped to shoot a ‘help me’ look to Spencer, but he was nowhere to be found.

The man seemed offended at your answer, reaching out to set a hand on your arm. The red flags quickly morphed into sirens. “What, are you some kind of prude or something?”

Despite your attempts to remain stone-faced, your lips parted in shock.

Lowering his head so it was level with yours, he whispered, “I can fuck the prude out of a girl, you know?”

Had he really just said that to you? In a public place?

“She said she’s not interested,” a familiar voice said from behind you as you flicked the man’s hand off of your upper arm.

Your harasser looked outraged as if he was viewing Spencer stepping in as a personal attack. Scoffing, the older man shook his head, “Do you usually butt into other people’s conversations?”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in response to the challenge, “Do you usually harass women at bars?”

“Fuck off, dude,” he said. You held back a laugh in response to this man calling Spencer ‘dude.’

Shrugging, Spencer reached out a pulled you away from the man, familiarly setting his hand on your waist. You weren’t sure how long had had been standing behind you, but you were glad he was there. “Why didn’t you?” Spencer retorted easily, you supposed he worked with people like this often when he worked with the FBI.

A confused look contorted the man’s features, “What the fuck do you mean?” He obviously wasn’t used to being stood up to.

“When she asked to be left alone, you didn’t. What makes you more deserving of having your wish granted?” Spencer impugned easily, never moving his hand from where it rested on your waist. Without meaning to, you had backed into him, leaning your back into his chest.

What looked like realization dawned on the man’s face as he nodded. “Oh,” he said, the gravel in his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

You peered up at Spencer, “Can we just go, please?” You implored. The bill was paid, you just needed to walk out the door.

“You’re already screwing her,” the man said – far too confidently.

Flinching at his crude language, this time you tugged at Spencer’s jacket to try and get his attention, “Spencer, let’s just go.”

The drunk man shook his head, “No, baby doll. Don’t go. I want to know what he thinks he’s gonna do. Are you gonna stop me from getting to your bitch?”

Before Spencer even had the opportunity to react to his words, you had instinctively grabbed one of the ice waters that the bartender had placed on the mat and tossed it in his face. Maybe it would help him sober up, but it felt good either way.

Reinvigorated, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and dragged him out of the restaurant, not stopping until you were up the street and away from the bar. “What was that?” You mumbled to yourself; you had never lashed out against someone like that.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said from behind you, causing you to spin on your heel. You peered up at him through mascara-covered lashes as you waited for him to continue his thoughts. “It wasn’t my intention to make him think you couldn’t stand up for yourself, but you looked so uncomfortable out there that I had to step in. Believe me, I’ve seen situations where that exact situation has gone south very quickly.”

You did believe him. Timidly, you nodded in acknowledgment “Thank you, Spencer. I was uncomfortable,” you admitted, “I’m glad you were there.”

Taking a deep breath, you stepped away from him, looking at the street signs and trying to acclimate yourself to your location.

“Do you mind if we take the long way around Third Street? I don’t really want to have to oh-“ You were cut off by the feeling of soft lips on yours.

All night, you had been thinking of ways to make the first move. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would be the one to make the first move.

Slowly, Spencer pushed you back against the brick wall, moving the both of you so you weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk. Shyly, you reached up and wove your fingers in his hair as he kissed you as if his life depended on it.

Leaving you breathless, he pulled away. “As it turns out, I don’t mind taking the long way around. At all.”

[lavandulawrites]

Sumeru’s Damsel In Distress Part 2

Yandere Alhaitham x reader, yandere Cyno x reader, yandere Kaveh x reader, yandere Tighnari x female reader (not separate)

Part 1

Finally finished part two!<3 I apologise for the wait, but something personal happened and I’ve also lacked motivation. Maybe there will be a part three? Maybe not. If you want me to write some scenarios regarding the four of them plus reader do send me a request/ask:)

Synopsis: It has been exactly two weeks since they drugged you and locked you up in the scribe and architect’s home. You still have a sliver of hope for escape.

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, mention of lack of interest in food, obsession, possessiveness, Kaveh is surprisingly eerie

Word count: 1704

The skies outside the window was grey and it was clear that a storm was brimming. You sat at the kitchen table with a cup of orange juice in your hand. The condense on the cool glass making your palms wet. For once you were alone in the kitchen. They normally wouldn’t let you as they were scared you would harm yourself, but after convincing them you wouldn’t hurt yourself they let you be alone from time to time.

The bowl of yogurt in front of you was barely touched. You had lately had little appetite and the thought was of food almost made you sick. You had not told anyone of your captors, knowing that if you did you would stir great concern. Which was the last thing you wanted.

A lonely bird sat atop the tree in the garden and sang a lovely song. You watched as it stretched its little wings and you selfishly wished the two of you switched places.

You turned you attention back to the juice which had gone lukewarm in your hand. You took a sip and let the bittersweet taste fill your senses. It was good, but that was as expected. Cyno had bought it from a new stand in the city which specialised in juice.

The sound of the kitchen door opening snapped you out from your thoughts. You lifted your gaze and were met with red eyes.

“Good morning [Name]. Did you sleep well?” Kaveh greeted as he walked across the kitchen to the cupboards. “Also didn’t we tell you not to close the kitchen door when you are in here by yourself?”

“Sorry… I didn’t want to wake you” you adverted your eyes.

A hand ruffled your hair gently. “It’s okay sweetheart. Just remember it till next time, okay?” Kaveh smiled.

You nodded. “I will” you mumbled.

Kaveh took a seat besides you and looked out of the window. “A storm is coming, huh… Just my luck” he sighed. “I’m supposed to go to the building site of the project I’m working on, but if there’s gonna be a storm I will have to cancel” he groaned as he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.

The kitchen door swung open and in came three men. The fox smiled as his eyes met you. “Good morning [Name]” Tighnari smiled.

“Good morning” you greeted him back with a slight nod.

Cyno noticed your glass of juice and his lips turned up into a smile. “Was the taste to your liking?” he asked as he poured himself a glass.

“Yes. It’s very good” you took a sip.

“Did you sleep alright [Name]?” the tall grey haired man asked you as he prepared himself a portion of oatmeal.

You swallowed as you glanced out of the window. Sleep had been your only escape, but lately you had had horrible nightmares. Your eyes found his again and you pulled your lips back into a tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I did. What about you?”

Alhaitham remained silent for a while as he let his eyes rake over your expression. “Don’t lie to me. There is nothing you should have to hide from me, from us” gestured to the three other men as he shook his head. “And to answer your question, yes I did.”

A hand rested on your shoulder as soft hair tickled your hair as the one behind you leaned down, which startled you. “Why haven’t you finished your yogurt, darling?” Tighnari’s breath tickled your ear.

Fuck. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m just not that hungry…” you slightly shrugged.

He tcked. “That’s no good. You need to eat” he rose a hand and gently stroked your cheek. His skin was warm and comforting. “Should I make you something else?” his voice soft.

“No thank you” you turned your face so you could face him and smiled slightly. You hoped he would let it be.

He was silent for a few heartbeats before he nodded. “I understand” his voice was monotone and it was clear he took note of something.

As the dark haired man left you alone to make himself some breakfast, your eyes met Alhaitham’s calculating gaze. A shiver ran down your spine at the knowing smirk he sent you.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. You had read some in the many books that adorned the little library in the aesthetically pleasing house. As the night crept closer and heavy rain hammered against the windows, Cyno had convinced you to play some Genius Invokation TCG with him.

You had only played the game a couple of times before this predicament. You had seen Cyno play at the tavern and it was safe to say he was way above your league. Even so he had made you play with him almost every day since you and been imprisoned within Alhaitham and Kaveh’s home. Which had been exactly two weeks today.

The white haired general shuffled the cards with precision. He gave you your cards before he picked up his own. You followed suit. You let your eyes quickly wander over your cards. Nothing good yet.

You rolled the dices and to your surprise you only got the elements you needed. Could today really be the day? You asked yourself as you laid down your card.

Cyno hummed at your move, clearly proud of your improvement. “Good move” he smiled as he placed his card down.

As the two of you continued playing, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to escape plans. An escape would be nearly impossible, but not impossible (that’s at least what you told yourself). All your captors had extremely high intelligence and various skills that would give you a great disadvantage. The odds weren’t in your favour, not even a little bit, but you still didn’t want to give up.

Maybe you could drug them? That would require you to steal some of Tighnari’s medicine, which was a difficult task as he had hid them well. Plus you didn’t have the medical knowledge to make sedatives if he didn’t have pre-made ones hidden away.

You thought long and hard on your options and the sound of a cleared throat snapped you out of your little schemes.

“Can you explain why this was in your room?” Alhaitham’s voice loud and as sudden as lightning form a clear sky.

You turned your head towards him with shaky hands. You swallowed before you pressed on a small smile. “What do you mean?” you tried to sound unbothered, but one could here a slight shakiness from your voice.

“Why was this in your room?” in his big hand was a screwdriver. The pointy side pointed up towards the ceiling. Long fingers tightly gripped the red handle.

“I don’t know…” you gave an attempt at sounding confused, but judging by the scribes furrowed brows you were unsuccessful.

Cyno had gone completely still from his side of the table before he quickly stood up resulting the chair legs to drag across the floor creating an awful sound. With an blink of an eye he was besides the tall man. Tan fingers took the screwdriver and brought it closer to his flaming eyes. “This is Kaveh’s” his voice no different from what it usually was.

He gave Alhaitham the screwdriver before he stalked towards you. You remained seated in your seat. “Why was this in your room [Name]?” he crouched down so he appeared smaller than you. His eyes boring into yours trying to pry your mind apart.

You opened your mouth, but only a chocked sound escaped you. Your eyes shifted from Cyno to Alhaitham and then back.

“M- Maybe it got left in my room after you renovated it? Before all this” the last part was only a mere whisper, but Cyno had picked it up. He rose to his feet and folded his arms as he looked down at you with a stern expression.

A scoff followed by a chuckle could be heard from your right. “And do you really think we would be so careless?” Alhaitham was clearly amused by your attempt at explaining yourself.

The living room swung open and in stepped Kaveh and Tighnari. “Hi! We were thinking of playing some Uno woul- Is that my screwdriver?” Kaveh’s eyes feel to the tool in the grey head’s hand and to you. His jovial expression was changed to something cold and calculating. With quick steps he was besides Alhaitham. “I have been looking for this…” his voice low as he took the screwdriver in his hand.

Shivers ran down your spine at the blonde’s cold gaze. You gripped the hem of your dress. Your hands were really shaking now.

“What do the meaning of this?” Tighnari’s voice broke the silence. He moved from the door and to your left side. You could feel his eyes even with your face turned downwards.

“I found Kaveh’s screwdriver in her room. Which is weird if you ask me, given how she has no need for it nor is she allowed to handle such dangerous items.”

“[Name] are you trying to escape?” Kaveh asked you coldly. He was right besides you now. You could see it in his eyes that he was angry. The scribe stood behind him, but remained silent.

With a fast motion he gripped your chin and forced your head up. “After all we that have done for you?” his eyes were blown wide in fury and disappointment. “And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere…” he chuckled.

You gulped as ruby eyes stared you down. You tried to think of something to say, but you were at loss for words.

“Maybe we should reduce your privileges” the blond man’s voice were laced with hurt and frustration. He let go of your chin as he rose to his full height.

“I think that’s a good idea” the fox on your left nodded agreement.

You watched as Kaveh pocketed the screwdriver and you felt your heart sink. He eyed you before he turned on his heel and left the living room.

It would take some time to gain back their trust now.

[soleilapproves]

This is part 2 of the arranged marriage AU with Nanami where the two of you struggle with intimacy.

Part 3

You both learn to cuddle in this one. This is a bit long so grab some snacks and a warm blanket.

Masterlist

-•-

After that fateful night of receiving flowers from your husband (personally and not through his family for a proposal), you had start warming up to him. You found out that he enjoyed mundane things like reading, walking at the beach, and most of all, bread. He learned about a lot of your likes and dislikes too.

Gradually, you found that it was easier to make conversation with him while having dinner so the two of you started having all your meals together. You’d talk about your work and what unruly things your coworkers did to cross you and he’d add in his two cents about them being incompetent. The relationship started to feel more friendly. He was glad his wife was talking to him about something other than the weather!

He also had a new desk moved into his study so you could work alongside him rather than stay holed up in your room. Your desk was adjacent to his (so he could look up to stare at you whenever he wanted).

He started noticing all the little things about you, like the way you liked doing your hair, your favorite spot on the couch, what kind of music you’d hum while doing chores. He was slowly chipping away at the ice and was enjoying every minute of it.

To be loved is to be known. He didn’t know how to show you that he was becoming more and more interested in you without displaying physical touch or being afraid of saying something that you may not be comfortable with. So he’d buy you gifts and try to spend time with you as much as possible. His gifts would be simple yet meaningful, like a record player for your room so you could listen to all your favorite tunes and pilates equipment for your home gym because you had been talking about how you wanted to work out but without leaving the house.

Your heart wasn’t letting you rest either. You started making him lunch for work and would write random notes along with it. It could be a fun fact or a simple motivational message. He would always thank you for them (and save them in a little box he has in his office). Sometimes he’d ask you more about the fact and how you learned about it.

Everything felt stable. It was like living with a best friend.

Until one day, you both were sitting next to each other while watching a horror movie. Separate blankets of course, but you were close enough for your knees to touch while sitting criss cross. A particularly scary scene came up and you jumped, holding on to the sleeve of Nanami’s sweater. He was alarmed, not because you screamed in fear but because you held on to him for comfort! “Can I hold your bicep? I’m sorry, this is just a little too scary.”

He could simply nod. No words or thoughts could form when he felt the warmth of your body against his arm. Your breath would occasionally land on his chest from how you were unintentionally leaning on him and it was driving him insane. Normally things like this would give him sensory overload but with you? Gosh, was it a good feeling. He always thought that that men who bragged about being protective were strange and were trying to prove themselves for no reason but they weren’t wrong. Knowing that you felt safe with him made him feel like a true man. Like he could run into the sunset and scream his lungs out.

After the movie was over you were still shaken up. “Is everything alright?” He looked down at you. You still had his arm in your grip. “Um, no, I’m still a little freaked out from the movie which is weird cause I’m a grown adult. Why am I scared of such movies anyway?” You smack your hand on your forehead. “It’s alright. It was a little too scary than what I’m used to as well.” He then paused, as if, he wanted to say something but he couldn’t. You looked up at him expectantly. “Since you’re scared, would you… like to sleep in my room? And I’m saying this in the most respectful way possible.” He sheepishly smiled as he asked.

Sleep? In the same bed as Nanami? Scratch that, sleep in the same bed as your HUSBAND? Of course, especially when he has been so sweet with flowers, gifts, and even comforting you through a strange movie. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” You whispered. You were afraid that if you spoke any louder you’d be breaking your bubble of comfort with him. “Then, I’ll make the necessary preparations.” He immediately gets up to go straighten up his room (and switch on his diffuser).

By necessary preparations, you didn’t know that he meant getting you a separate blanket and having a divider of pillows between the two of you. This was the opposite of what you wanted. You were still scared and needed some sort of physical touch to be reassured that you weren’t going to be harmed.

“Nanami, are you awake?” You whispered into the dimly lit room. The moonlight through the window acted as a natural night lamp. “I’m up. Do you need anything?” He responded swiftly. “No, everything is great except for one thing.” You turn towards him and remove the pillow between your heads so can make eye contact. “When you suggested sleeping in the same bed I thought we’d be holding hands because I’m scared.”

“Oh.” Was all Nanami could muster up. You were tense. Did you ask for too much? Maybe you should’ve asked his permission before requesting for it. Consent is key. But all your thoughts are silenced when Nanami simply grabs your hand and pulls you close. “Th-Thanks.” Your heart was racing a mile a minute. Nothing really happened after that though. Pure silence engulfed the room again, except for the occasional rustling of the sheets while you moved around.

“Y/N?” Your husband broke the silence. You hummed in response. “Do you know how to cuddle?” What an odd request, not unwelcome but definitely strange as Nanami never really initiated any sort of physical touch with you. It was mostly you either accidentally touching him or squeezing his bicep before work. You were too scared to admit that you had never been in a relationship before. What would he think? He’s a handsome man, so there’s no way he had never been in a relationship before. Maybe he never cuddled with his exes. He did tell you that he used to be very particular about his personal space.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, your knowledge from reading romance novels was finally being used. “Can you teach me? You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” But you turned to your side so you could properly face him. You let go of his hand, missing the warmth provided by them. “I’ll teach you an easy one first. It’s called spooning. Since you’re a beginner, I’ll let you be the little spoon and I’ll be the bigger spoon.” Nanami snorted at your description. But obliged. “Alright, what does the little spoon do?”

You then instructed him to turn, making his back face you and then you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your forehead against his back. “So this is what spooning is. I think I’d much rather prefer being the big spoon. I want to be able to protect you from that ghost in the movie.” You giggle at his words and oblige. When his arms wrap around you, it feels as if everything has fallen into place. The world is in order and you both don’t need anyone else but each other.

Nanami is in ultimate peace with you in his arms. The warmth given to him by your body being pressed against him is a feeling like no other. It felt right. Like you two were meant to be all along. His heart raced at the thought of other cuddling positions. However, a sense of jealousy rose in him as he thought about who you might’ve experienced this with first. Alas, he can still make new memories with you so he comforts himself to sleep.

-•-

Reader and Nanami will kiss in the next one I PROMISE 😭