#he’s got the least issues out of everybody

[asterafroditis]

Hi, could I request Silver with a platonic know-it-all reader? Like they're blunt and always getting on everybody's nerves by flexing their knowledge on others and nobody really knows why Silver puts up with them, but he's always like "wow, that was really informative :)" whenever they talk and they genuinely enjoy his company. Sorry if this is an odd request!

𐔌 . ⋮ quiet understanding .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Platonic Silver x yapper gn! reader

𓏵 910 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, they/them pronouns used, fluff

teehee, I definitely had fun writing this, hope it caters to your request! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

If there was one thing people knew about you, it was that you knew things. A lot of things. About history, science, magic theory, ancient spell formations—sometimes even completely random trivia that had no relevance to anyone's life. And you made sure people knew that you knew.

"Actually, that's incorrect," you’d interject, arms crossed as you interrupted yet another conversation in the Diasomnia common room. "The proper incantation for that spell dates back to the late Sorcerer's Era, not the early one. If you used that variation, you'd end up setting your own robes on fire."

Sebek groaned loudly, turning on his heel with a scowl. "No one asked for your input!"

"Yeah, but you'd have burned your eyebrows off. You're welcome."

Lilia only chuckled, amused as always, but the rest of the students? Not so much. You had a habit of inserting your knowledge into every discussion, and it wasn’t exactly winning you many friends. Some people saw you as insufferable, others as a walking encyclopedia that never knew when to shut up.

But if there was one person who never seemed annoyed by you, it was Silver.

"That was really informative," he said as he blinked at you, entirely sincere. "I didn’t know that spell variation had such a history."

You smirked, satisfied. "Of course. Most people just assume the modern version is correct, but they don’t consider how—"

"Are you seriously encouraging them, Silver?!" Sebek cut in, looking completely exasperated. "They never stop talking as it is!"

Silver only tilted his head, clearly not understanding why that was an issue. "I think it's nice. They know a lot of useful things."

"Exactly," you agreed smugly, nudging Silver's arm. "At least someone appreciates my genius."

Sebek let out a long-suffering groan and stomped away while you turned back to Silver, pleased as ever.

And that was how it always went. While most people avoided you when you got too deep into an explanation, Silver never brushed you off. He never mocked you, never got irritated—he just listened, nodding along even when your tangents stretched far longer than necessary. He even asked follow-up questions sometimes, which was practically an invitation for you to keep going.

You liked that about him.

One day, as you sat under a tree with Silver during a break, you glanced at him curiously. "You never get tired of me talking your ear off, do you?"

Silver looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "No. You always have something interesting to say. And I like learning new things."

You blinked. "...Huh."

That was… unexpected. But nice.

A breeze rustled through the trees, and you hesitated before adding, "Most people think I’m just annoying."

Silver closed his eyes, considering your words. Then, with the same calm sincerity he always carried, he said, "They're missing out, then."

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "Well, obviously." You leaned back against the tree, folding your arms. "I mean, I know things no one else does. If people don’t want to listen, that's their loss."

Silver hummed in agreement, then after a pause, added, "Still, I think it's nice to have someone who enjoys talking. I spend a lot of time in silence."

You thought about that for a moment. Most people probably assumed he was just a quiet guy, but considering how often he drifted off to sleep, maybe he was just too tired to talk much. If that was the case… maybe he liked having someone around who could carry the conversation.

A moment of silence passed between you before Silver spoke again. "You mentioned something about knight traditions earlier," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Can you tell me more about that?"

Your eyes lit up. "Oh, absolutely! Did you know that in ancient knightly orders, squires would have to recite the entire code of chivalry before they could even touch a sword? It wasn’t just about combat—they had to memorize historical texts, strategy guides, even poetry."

Silver’s lips quirked upward slightly. "I see. I think my father would have liked that tradition."

You paused, momentarily caught off guard. "Huh. Yeah, I guess he would’ve. You probably would’ve excelled at it, too."

Silver blinked at you, mildly surprised. "You think so?"

"Of course," you scoffed. "You're basically already a knight. Just missing the fancy title and dramatic cape."

He chuckled softly. "That’s… nice to hear."

You huffed, nudging his shoulder. "Well, don’t get too cocky about it. I still know more history than you."

Silver smiled faintly. "I don’t mind. That just means I can learn more from you."

For once, you found yourself at a loss for words.

It was easy to brush off other people’s irritation toward you, easy to act like you didn’t care whether they appreciated your knowledge or not. But Silver—he listened. He valued what you had to say. And in a world where people were constantly rolling their eyes or sighing in exasperation at you, that meant more than you wanted to admit.

So, with a quiet hum, you settled in beside him, watching the leaves rustle overhead.

"Alright," you said eventually, voice softer than usual. "I’ll tell you about the old knight tournaments next. You’ll like this one."

Silver nodded, his expression relaxed and content. "I’m listening."

And for once, you felt like someone truly was.

[brooklynisher]

Sigh…

Just got some new Spine angst thoughts

SIGHHH….

[wilwheaton]

The beautiful town of Asheville, North Carolina, one of my favorite places in the country. Spent time there. Amazing people. Devastated. Hundreds of people killed. President Biden and Vice President Harris were down there meeting with local officials and comforting families, asking how they could help. Donald Trump at a rally just started making up stories about the Biden administration withholding aid from Republican areas and siphoning off aid to give to undocumented immigrants. Just made the stuff up. Everybody knew it wasn’t true. Even local Republicans said it was not true. Now the people of Florida are dealing with another devastating storm, and I want you to watch what happens over the next few days, just like the last time. You’re going to have leaders who try to help, and then you have a guy who will just lie about it to score political points. This has consequences, because people are afraid, and they’ve lost everything, and now they’re trying to figure out, how do I apply for help? Some of them may be discouraged from getting the help they need. the idea of intentionally trying to deceive people in their most desperate and vulnerable moments. My question is: When did that become okay? I’m not looking for applause right now. I want to ask Republicans out there, people who are conservative, who didn’t vote for me, who didn’t agree with me. I had friends who disagreed with me on every issue. When did that become okay? Why would we go along with that? If your coworkers acted like that, they wouldn’t be your coworkers very long. If you’re in business and somebody you’re doing business with just outright lies and manipulates you, you stop doing business with them. Even if you had a family member who acted like that, you might still love them, but you’d tell them you got a problem and you wouldn’t put them in charge of anything. And yet, when Donald Trump lies, cheats, or shows utter disregard for our Constitution, when he calls POWs “losers,” or fellow citizens “vermin,” people make excuses for it. They think it’s okay. They think, well, at least he’s owning the libs. He’s really sticking it to ‘em. It’s okay as long as our side wins.

President Obama asks "When Did That Become Okay?"

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

The moment they realized they were in love.

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronora Zoro, Sanji x gn! Reader.

Cw: English is not my first language, this is mostly fluff.

Notes: I thought I had deleted this, but I had simply published it on accident! Hope you all enjoy it and if you see grammar mistakes don't feel bad about telling me!

Luffy

For all his silliness Luffy had always been emotionally smart, he could easily recognize when people were in distress or angry (or at least, most of the time) but it took him quite some time to figure out he had a crush.

When he had first met you it had been a pretty average experience for him, at least as average as meeting the self-proclaimed future king of the pirates could go. By the end of the same day you were already on the Going Merry bonding with those who would quickly become your new family.

Talking with Luffy came easily to you, it was like smooth sailing, but for some reason, over time, Luffy started to feel different during your chats. He started to notice little things that he would usually pass over, like the way your voice got more high pitched when you talked about things you were passionate about and how during that same time you would move your hands around a lot to emphasize what you were saying.

Your hands.

His skin had always been rubbery since he ate the gum gum fruit, but yours looked so smooth and malleable, as if he could just smash his face into you and stay there waiting for your skin to mold around him. And talking about smashing his face into things he was very curious about smashing his face against yours, he had seen Sanji try to do it at the last island they had been at (and failed, the woman had given him a smack with her purse before walking away), and had since thought about it.

But those were all things you would want to do with your friends, right? The moment it really had hit him was one night right before dinner. He was sitting on his usual spot at the front of the ship when he heard his name being called behind him.

He turned around and there was you, standing with a plate on your hand and smiling, oh so warmly, at him. The setting sun made your skin shine in golden light and he thought to himself that if he were to drown and you were a fish in the sea he would follow your glow to the surface. A smile slowly spread itself in his face, all his feelings clicking together inside his brain, and before you could react you felt a pair pf arms wrapped around you and a body slamming against you with immense strength, knocking the plate of food right off your hands.

But for once Luffy couldn't be bothered about the food, you were in his arms.

Zoro

There had been something bothering you for quite a while about the swordsman of the straw hats crew, his indifference.

At first you had thought he was just shy, but the way he would fight with Sanji and scream at everybody all the time had proved you wrong. Then you had thought he hated you for no apparent reason, but once again, if he did indeed hate you he would most likely fight with you the way he did with the cook. So the final diagnosis was the simplest one: he was just indifferent about your presence on the ship.

And that bothered you.

Call it pride or daddy issues, but the feeling that you had to prove to him that you were not just some sort of side character was just too strong. So you did what seemed like the smartest choice, tried to become his friend.

Zoro had been slightly bothered by your advances at first since they included chatting with him (which stopped him from taking his daily nine-hour nap) or getting his attention in the middle of his workout.

The change was almost imperceptible at first. It started with him noticing your presence, everytime he heard your steps approaching him or felt your warm hand on his shoulder using him as a mean of sitting down without falling. Slowly but surely noticing turned into expecting, expecting your afternoon visits and going as far as getting disappointed if you didn't showed up; expecting for you to show up while he was training so that he could show off his skills only to hear you praise him for his strength.

Zoro knew he was falling for you, but despite how much he told himself that having a crush would be useless, and only keep him from achieving his goals, he couldn't help but hope you would be there every day to talk to him even when he never gave you long answers.

The day he realized that there was no turning back you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, he had only noticed after a while when you didn't talk his ear off (he loved hearing you and everything you had to tell him), he tried to sleep, but, when he closed his eyes, all he could focus on was your soft breathing, the way it caressed the skin of his neck, and the heat emanating from your face and seeping onto his body. He should had been training, but maybe staying there a little longer wouldn't hurt.

Especially when he could hear the way both your heart beats started to sync.

Sanji

The moment he fell in love with you? What do you mean? He was always in love with you, even before you two met!

But talking seriously, Sanji is widely known for falling in love easily so it really comes to no surprise that he fell for you when you first joined the crew (especially if you were a woman).

For all his swooning and doting Sanji had alway thought of himself as a composed person, but his whole idea fell apart the moment you entered the kitchen. There had been something about you that he couldn't quite place, something that made him feel as though the entire universe had stopped and that everything that had happened in his life up until that moment had been with the sole intention of him meeting you. Even before you said a word to him, while luffy was still excitedly presenting you to everyone, your eyes had found his and he had felt his soul melt inside of him.

He had walked up to you and held your hands while he fell to his knees, he told you he loved you without remedy and that breathing without your presence felt like inhaling thorns but that he would gladly do it if it meant he would see your face eventually.

You had smiled at him, a smile that could bring the sun itself to shame from how bright it was, and then, then...

Then Nami hit him im the head and told him to leave you alone.

So yeah, Sanji had known he would love you from the moment he met you. But it was the small things, the everyday things, like sitting with him while he washed the dishes, or talking between meals and telling him off for smoking, that cemented the idea that, maybe, the universe had been written only so that you two coul meet.

✶✧✶✧✶✧✶✧

Taglist: @ellelowthere

[xo-adeline]

"The touch I never knew I needed..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Learning how to touch (Sfw)

Feat. Michael Kaiser

AN - Just had a breakdown over AP Lang, emailed my teacher, feeling shitty<3

You always noticed how once you stated dating Kaiser had been okay, for lack of better words, with you touching him. Even if when you first started, it took a little bit for him to warm up to it, the only issue is that he had never once touched you. No hugs, hand-holding, or anything, even if there had been many attempts to try. The slight raises of his hand towards your face when the two of you were relaxing on the couch, just for seconds later, it to be pulled away and placed back in his lap, or resting on the sides of the couch. It was the immediate assumption that this lack of physical contact had stemmed from his father and the abuse he used to put him through, but wouldn’t he also be scared of you touching him if that was indeed the fact? With no answers, and even fewer speculations after each of your ideas were shot down by other facts, you stopped trying to figure it out, or, at least it wasn’t at the top of your mind anymore. 

Well, that was until he finally broke. 

The second you two stepped back inside your shared house he had hugged you. Of course, you were shocked for a second before hugging him back. However, it didn’t last long. “..Sorry, I just… You seemed upset at that party and I know that hugs help people.” He paused for a second before speaking back up as he started walking back towards the bedroom. “I didn’t hurt you… Did I?” To which you shook your head. Unbeknownst, to him, it felt…Nice…

With that he gave a small nod and continued his walk to the bedroom, making sure to softly close the door behind him as he made it inside. You couldn’t help but think about how weird it was. Out of nowhere the man that never once hugged anybody, not even after winning big championships and world-class titles, did he ever hug his teammates. Just hugged you because you looked sad? The mystery was only getting more and more weird when he asked if he hurt you, and that’s when you realized. Even if he hadn’t hugged his teammates he had put his hands on them. That’s when the flashbacks of Blue Lock TV resurfaced from your hippocampus. All his matches with Ness, the amount of times he had put his hands on him and it had ended with a teary-eyed Ness. He was afraid of hurting you. Just like his father had hurt him with his touch. 

The walk over towards the bedroom was slow as you tried to piece together thoughts and come up with a way that you were going to bring up the issue and try to reason with him, that he wasn’t his father, and you knew he would have never hurt you. 

A las when you had walked through the door he was teary-eyed sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up when you slowly opened the door. He faced away from you. He knew he looked pathetic and he would have much rather had you not see him like this. What kind of emperor would he be if he got all teary-eyed because he had hugged somebody? Emotions could only take control as you saw the way he kept himself shielded and turned away from you. “Kaiser. You’re not your father.. Just because you might have hurt some people before doesn’t mean you’ll hurt everybody you touch. You don’t have to take the same path he did.” You sat down next to him, your hand slowly landing on his upper arm. “...But what if I do. What happens if I try to hug you and I punch you or try to strangle you..?” “But what if you don’t..?” The second the words had left it was like every wall he ever had came crashing down, he had turned himself and hugged you again, letting himself cry into your shoulder, as you sat there, rubbing his back. There was no way he was like his father, his father wouldn’t have had even a fourth of the heart Michael did. And while the rest of the world saw him as God’s chosen emporer, the arrogant football star, you just saw him as Michael. The same guy who would come home after practice every day and give you a small kiss on the forehead, no matter how pissed off it was at his teammates, his coach, or even the world. You knew that even if he wasn’t in his right mind there would be no way he could hurt you, and you trusted that more than you could imagine. 

[dduane]

Erotica and anniversaries

...The big E, first. Here she is. Isn't she lovely?

...Right there upstairs at the Library of Congress, on the second floor. (I noted at the time we passed through some years back—and continue to smile at the memory—that her artist has included his copyright statement right there, to make sure no one misses it.)

...Anyway, where were we? ...Oh yeah: the local takes on erotic writing and smut.

This subject seems to come up every couple of years. What nudged me into revisiting it this time was the notes off a comment to a post earlier today, responding to someone working on an explicit-leaning AU, and discussing the writing of (story) bibles for projects.

Anyway, the notes:

#love that the advice was not just 'stick to porn' or 'don't write porn at all' but 'ah yes; common problem; let me explain to you how to write a series bible'

Well, disclosure here: in my case, it can't really be otherwise. :)

Let this act as everybody's sort-of-biennial reminder (if needed) that I'm not going to be caught condemning people for writing smut, as I've written it myself. (And continue to do so when the mood moves me.)

The post from very nearly two years ago, discussing the issue in more detail, is over here. As you'll see if you read it, there were some folks who experienced brief episodes of cognitive dissonance on learning I was a cheerful writer of explicit material. Some of the surprise was probably due to the fact that a lot of people see me—mostly due to the relatively-higher profile of the Young Wizards books—as primarily a writer for younger readers.

But that's not how I got started. My (1979) debut novel centers a universe where the following exchange between two of the protagonists appears—they then being wrapped up in blankets and afterglow in the wake of a prolonged and enthusiastic post-reunion shag:

A soft chuckle in the darkness. “Lorn, remember that first time we shared at your place?” “That was a long time ago.” “It seems that way.” “—and my father yelled up the stairs, ‘What are you dooooooooing?’ “—and you yelled back, ‘We’re fuckinnnnnnnnnnng!’” “—and it was quiet for so long—” “—and then he started laughing—” “Yeah.”

Nor was this a one-off. This book and its sequels contain a fair number of passages in which human (and occasionally non-human) sexualities, both in the abstract and the experientially concrete, take center stage. And the mode in which they're expressed and discussed is intended for adults. Those sequences can probably be described as at least borderline erotica. (I certainly try had to be as graceful about such passages as I can, when and where it's appropriate to be.)

With this in mind, it's worth repeating what turns up in that earlier post, which came off a query to a ficcer about "how do you feel knowing that people may be jerking off to your work?":

I'm an entertainer. Writing's a form of entertainment. (And not just for the readership: for me, too.) To be aroused by art one's experienced is (almost by definition) to be entertained, I'd say...

Other people's art in these modes certainly is entertaining for me: and I desperately hope mine is for other people. (Almost all my more explicit writing is published only pseudonymously, which from my point of view is just fine. There's a fair amount of writing work out in the world that [for contractual or other business reasons] doesn't have my name on it. This is just more of the same.)

(Per that, adding here again my own tags from that earlier post:)

#and no I'm not going to let on where the smut is#why would i deny anyone the delights of the search#and of being repeatedly mistaken#while possibly finding smut writers who're better at it than i am#:)

Anyway, finally: from that earlier post—on nearly the thirty-eighth anniversary of something happening to me that would, just a year before the event, have seemed wildly unlikely—this note, unusually apposite because of what today is, and what's coming tomorrow.

I consider erotica—and its more casually-dressed (or undressed…) cousin, smut—to be perfectly legit forms of literary expression; ones that can soar to unexpected heights if you’re willing to put in the work. The sexy-stuff-writing muscle requires periodic exercise if it’s to remain viable and/or useful. So I exercise it. And being a 70-plus-year-old person who sometimes creaks audibly when she walks has done absolutely nothing to decrease my interest in the subject—the brain being, after all, the biggest sex organ, and the one least vulnerable to the depredations of time. If anything, nearly fifty years of experience (and more than three and a half decades of marriage to @petermorwood) have added… let’s just say nuance. 😏

So, happy Valentine's Day to all those who choose to celebrate, in whatever mode.

And to the Man Upstairs:

...See you in a few, sweetie. :)

[downbadf0rficppl]

someone's there

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack

Repost

You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.

You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.

Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.

And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.

The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.

You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.

She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"

Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.

Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.

You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.

Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.

The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.

The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.

Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.

The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.

You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.

The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.

"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.

The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.

"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.

You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.

By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.

You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.

But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.

To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.

You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.

You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.

As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.

Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.

He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.

You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.

He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.

You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.

It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.

You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.

"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.

"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.

"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.

"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."

"The pizza place?"

"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."

You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.

"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.

"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.

"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."

"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.

The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.

"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."

June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.

Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.

Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.

You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.

Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.

A teenager was on the phone with the police.

You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.

The door swung open, letting in a draft.

Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.

Sirens.

"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.

A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.

"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.

You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.

"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.

"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.

You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.

You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.

"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"

He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."

You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.

"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Take me home, Buck."

fin.

buy me a coffee

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

[takes1]

bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. none for this part. stay for steamy stuff in later parts ;) content. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush/enemies to lovers!/manager!reader/gn!reader for this part, could change?/passive-aggressive tsukki/daichi being a friend/suga being a friend/future smut/future sexual frustration notes. i'm branching out! first haikyuu fic! not done with mha but it just doesn't motivate me to write rn :( links. masterlist for mha. my ao3. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE. PART FOUR HERE. FINAL PART HERE. haikyuu collection

You were walking back with a full case of freshly mixed sports drinks for the team when the whistle blew for a break. The entirety of Karasuno was on you at a moment's notice, rowdy despite their long practice.

A plethora of 'thank you's and appreciative mantras filled your heart as you were able to hand out bottles.

The first to swipe them were the first-years that sprinted up to you, trying to beat each other in their own intense, but good-natured race. Then the less excitable members, like your fellow seniors, that gave you slower and sincere thanks, shoulder pats, and tried to engage you in conversation.

Except, you had to make sure everyone got theirs. Which left the bane of your existence.

He sucked his teeth and looked away, disinterested in hydrating as soon as he realized you were handing them out.

"Tsukishima, come on," Suga heeded a subtle warning, but his mistake was turning away to speak to the others- and not following up to ensure the first-year did this simple task.

You weren't going to hold up a bottle for the kid all day. This was ridiculous and beneath you. Your arm slapped down to your side.

Everybody knew he had some issue with you. His disliking for you was nearly automatic upon being placed on the team, but it had somehow grew to a new intensity each day you had to interact.

Little instances like this one added up quick. And it didn't take long to notice, especially amongst your longest friends.

It boiled down to something about you being enough to piss him off, much like Hinata and Kageyama of his own class. For those two, it was relatively harmless bullshit. For you, the structure of the team hinged on him listening to you as his senior and manager.

"I really don't know what's gotten into him-- I-I'm so sorry," Yamaguchi spoke through gritted teeth.

He would've blabbed for much longer on his friend's behalf like usual, but he stopped short with a chill when he found your mirrored cool, upward stare.

"You don't need it anyway," You set his full bottle back into the case with a loud thump, "You haven't even sweat today."

It was a tad bit of an exaggeration, but his growing habit of letting certain spikes through had been prevalent enough to catch your attention. It bothered you because not only did he so quickly run out of steam -much sooner than the others who got the same court time as him-, but Coach didn't always notice his faults the same way you could.

You didn't try to look at him more than the others, truly. Your job hinged on being objective and you liked to think you did a great job at that. Lately though, it'd been tough not noticing every little shitty idiosyncrasy of his.

The way he hit the ball. The curve of his body into the net when he leaped into the air. The angle he liked to hit. The side he favored. The amount of steps he took before he jumped.

He wasn't as skilled as he let on. They could all use improvement, but his cockiness really ate at your patience. The others at the very least pretended to listen to you, and most took your criticism as a chance to improve. God forbid you comment on his faults, though.

The last time you did, his face had frozen with that ugly, twisted expression for the rest of the match.

Almost as soon as your accusation met his ears, that unbelievably fake calm demeanor crumbled into one serious mixture of aggravation.

His jaw tightened and he glanced around your stone-cold stare.

Bitter, he almost seemed to loom over you as he wiped his forehead with an oversized palm. His gaze remained unfaltering, ever so hateful, and he squeezed a closed fist in between you.

Sweat drip, drip, dripped onto the gym floor.

Head cocked, he opened his mouth to speak-- but Daichi slapped a mighty hand onto Tsukishima's upper arm. His forced grin -a welcome sight at this point- came into view.

"Thank you for volunteering to mop today, Tsukishima!"

Sometimes, when you had these types of exchanges, everyone else just sort of... fell away. Despite some polite cover-up conversations, most of the other players had a sensitive ear to his attitude problem with you. They were practically trained to listen to you speak-- this, compounded with Tsukishima's quiet demeanor, and the gym usually fell just short of completely still.

The blond's scowl elicited your covered laugh as you were pulled away. Suga warned you quietly to not get too caught up in talking to the first-years, but it was difficult to focus on his words.

"Thanks," Was punctuated with the sound of Coach's whistle- he gave you a sympathetic expression and ran off.

You didn't realize how worked up you got until they all returned to the court to finish their spiking drills. They formed up in a neat line, one after the other.

Clipboard gripped a bit tighter, you took a big breath in. Then, out. Your heart settled.

Nobody likes confrontation.

SLAM!

Not unless they're a masochist or something.

SLAM.

Why did he have to pick on you? And not some bigger fish that was actually on the team? Your heart squeezed from the burden of it all.

S L A M !

Tsukishima turned to move to the back of the line, but made sure to catch your eyes before you could even think to ignore him. His expression was indescribable but nothing short of trouble.

@ me to be added to the taglist for this fic series! i have at least 4 more parts i want to do that will be substantially longer

[willowed-wisp]

ghost, soap and könig as civilians

If the military wasn’t an option, what would these three men do with themselves?

simon ‘GHOST’ riley

- Still aims to take care of his mum and brother, Tommy.

- Simon Riley was born to have a gun in his hand, so he’ll be drawn into the police armed division.

- However, I could also see him as a detective who gets stuck with a Scottish newbie on the force.

- Meets you, behind the receptionist desk, he’s never been too good with women but you’d take over the conversation.

- Could listen to you talking nonsense for ages and that had NEVER happened to Simon before.

- Simon knew you were the one when you managed to convince him to not beat the shit out of his dad when he interrupted a dinner at his mum’s house.

- And when you shouted to his dad, “Stay the fuck away from my family!” Slamming the door in his face- bolting the door.

- His mum and Tommy shared a look with Simon, who was exasperated by you in that moment.

- He’s still reluctant to have kids because for the abuse he incurred as a child. So you take it in baby steps, your black and white cat is called Ghost.

- His family adore you.

johnny ‘SOAP’ mactavish

- Johnny would definitely be scouted for rugby very early on and would play the sport

- But his anger issues didn’t mesh well with it

- He sort out a place that would enforce discipline onto him.

- And he was born to have gun in hand and protect people, and his first week as a policeman… he’s partnered with officer Riley… Simon Riley.

- Opts to go into the Canine Unit, he’s tough enough and loves doggos

- You’re a civilian and he’s the officer questioning you. He asks for more than a witness statement- getting your number through his eyes alone let alone the accent

- Johnny loves coming home to you, your dog and a cup of coffee.

- Complains about house prices because he wants to upscale from an apartment that looked shitty before you put your own spin on it.

- At least one Scottish flag is hung up

- He wants a home because he’s desperate to be a dad- he’d be there everyday to pick them up and drop them off when he wasn’t at work

- Invites Police Chief John Price over for a Sunday roast

- Price always turns up with a 6-pack of lager in hand and chatting all night with you both with rosy cheeks

redacted ‘KÖNIG’ redacted

- He’s got carpenter energy- he’s good with his hands (in more ways than one)

- Has to find ways of coping with his anxiety because he’s dealing with customers everyday

- It’s easy when you come in wanting new wooden doors for your house. You go over the plans and invite him over for dinner to take measurements…

- Coz god knows he wouldn’t muster the courage up to ask you out

- You were intimidated by him at first- you tell him at the dinner table. He seemed dejected until you placed a hand on his, “And then I found out you were the most gentle person I’ve ever met…”

- That makes his heart melt- he’s been with you ever since.

- You soon realise that kids flock around him because he’s like a personal climbing frame

- Everybody in the small village knows König and say it’s nice to see him come out of the shell when he coaches the kids in football or sports

- He’s like a climbing frame

- And by your side, König realises that he’s fine the way he is. Kids were just cruel at that age and his height and build come in handy in many ways

————

masterlist

[boy-cow000]

Infuriated

Gif credit belongs to potatoxedits on Tumblr

Spencer x gn!Reader

Warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, Slight angst, Spencer having a really bad day, breakdown, reader comforts him, fluff at the end

Summary: Spencer’s bad day leads him to an unfortunate breakdown.

Word count: 785

____________________________________

Spencer was fuming. More than that, he was burning with rage. His entire day had been a compilation of the most annoying things you could think of. From people bumping his coffee into him and having to change his clothes to police chiefs taking their issues out on him. All of that built-up anger had escalated from annoyance to irritation, to him wanting to blow everybody in a kilometer radius to bits.

The moment he had finished his report on the latest case they had worked on, he stomped out of the bullpen. He kept revisiting every pestering thing that had occurred. He stared at the floor so intensely he could’ve just as easily burned a hole through it. He was walking straight to the elevator, the mental rewind of his terrible day making him frown.

In a flash, he found himself stopped. It took him a few seconds to step out of his daydream and realize the reason for his abrupt halt. The thumping sound of you and your bag falling even startled him a little, the loud echo making it apparent there was nobody left at the office. You were half-sitting-half-lying on the ground, papers sprawled out all around you.

Suddenly, it was too much for Spencer. When he realized what he had done, he fell to his knees.To anybody it would’ve been nothing but not to Spencer. All of the build-up hit him like a ton of bricks, you happen to be the trigger. Guilt and washed over him, suddenly unable to support his own weight, his legs gave out. With the little amount of self-control he had left, he tried to pick up the papers he knocked over. When he looked up in an attempt to squeeze an apology out of his thinly pressed lips, that self-control left and tears began bubbling in the corners of his eyes.

Spencer had been incoherently mumbling what you could only make out to be apologies when you looked up. When you two made eye contact, you noticed just how tired he looked. Eyes sunken in, lips bitten raw and tie loosened for a little room to breathe. Moreover, you noticed the tears slowly filling his already glassy eyes. Before he could utter another sorry, you crawled across the mess of papers on the floor.

“It’s okay! It’s alright Spencer—don’t I’ll pick that up, jus—”

In a hurried tone you rushed to try and comfort him. You had heard a couple hours prior about Spencer’s terrible day from his worried coworkers. You had even made a point to yourself to go see how he was after the end of your work day. You didn’t know him that much, you didn’t even work in the same department as him. Yet your cubicle was close enough for the occasional interaction. You’d even occasionally manage to squeeze a handful of conversations into your schedule every once in a while. Despite your lack of closeness, right now, you needed to comfort him.

You quickly picked up all your things and shoved them in your bag. Once finished you looked up at Spencer, who was now beet red and crying.You brought your hand up to his back, rubbing up and down, hoping to help. When Spencer looked up at you, you could tell some of his shame had dissolved. Your heart softened at the sight, his eyes now red and puffy, his face glowing with the sheen of his tears and his hair delicately framing everything.

“Spencer… I heard about…all the things that happened to you today. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help, even just a little bit?”

You spoke slowly, as if making sure every word was the right one. For Spencer at least, they were. Just hearing that reassurance in your voice made his heart swell. He really needed this, he really needed you. So he got up, with your help, and asked for what he really wanted at that moment.

“Could I—heh, i-it's really stupid. Honestly. But, could—could you give me… a hug?”

He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands before trailing them down and scratching his eyes with the tips of his fingers. You didn’t think twice,you were already wrapping your arms around him. He didn’t even have time to register anything before you were buried in his chest. When he did realize, his large arms swung around you and his head dipped into the crevice between your neck and your shoulder. You could feel his steadying breath fan through your shirt, his fingers grip around your back and his hair tickle your neck. This seemingly never ending moment was only interrupted by a small and soft: Thank you.

[readbyred]

may i request how the dps boys would react to realising they have a severe crush on a, preferably shy, reader! tysm <\3

Oh, I've been waiting for dps requests! Sorry for my late replies everybody, I got demotivated again because tumblr deleted a few of my x reader posts (and a few others). But I'll try to not let that happen again if I can even help it

I think Knox would have such a silly time trying to approach you. Because we all know he’s awkward, but determined at best and, well… pushy at worst. I'm trying to go with the version I saw in a play, because thankfully they cut out the party scene which means he’s still delightfully insufferable but not awful. Anyways, he would jump on every occasion to talk to you. And then just. Stand there. He’d try to give you flowers and poems, everything really. But he loses brain cells every time he’s around you. At least you’re both equally stressed about social interactions. He gets a little braver when you give him a smile or any other sign you like him. Not less awkward, but a bit more motivated to go for it. His main problem is that he can't read you well and despite being big on feelings and all, he still has a hard time actually talking to you. Clumsily, he showers you with over the top things, that most would find cringey but you think of as endearing. And if he thinks there's a chance he’ll lose you, he’ll confess right away. I think he is brave and pretty open about feelings. Just stressed out

With Neil, it's not an issue at all that you're shy. He’s more so taken aback by his own strong feelings. Because he wasn't expecting to fall this hard. But give him like five work days to process and he’ll be all in. I feel like he would take his time to confess but he’d make it known that he cares about you. He’d be checking up on you every time he can, bringing you coffee, asking to practice lines together, go to the movies in town. Even before you two start dating you just wake up and half of his sweatshirts are in your drawer (he likes to borrow you his clothes if you’re cold) and your desk is littered with poems he shared with you. He’s a gentle lover, but he knows what he wants and when the time is right Neil has no problem confessing

It's much funnier with Cameron because this boy is in panic mode 24/7. At first he legit thought he was sick because he always felt dizzy and distracted around you. And he’s a traditionalist. Everything has to be perfect when you’re around. Like he beats himself up about every little mistake he made around you. But also makes a point to treat you RIGHT. If you’re shy he might not know how to approach you at first, because he’s not sure if you’re even interested. And how to make you like him. After much teasing (mainly from Charlie, of course) he gets fed up with his friends and decides to make a move. It might not be the most romantic when he does, but it's sweet and genuine

Another one that would take time to confess is Meeks. He’s pretty quick to accept that he’s crushing on you. He’s like, yeah obviously they are amazing, now what do I do with that? He tries to give you things. Small things. Like maybe he could borrow you a book that you’ve wanted to read for a long time of buy you a coffee/tea if you’re out in the town. He doesn't explicitly say that he liked you but it's easy to tell and he’s not one to be shy about it either. So when you guys do get together, you already know his more… romantic side

On the contrary, Charlie takes time to process his feelings. He had crushes before, but real feelings (strong ones at that) aren't the norm for him. Sometimes he catches himself losing his cool around you and it messes with him so bad. He would probably ask Knox for advice. Which is a bad move. But he figures that at least his friend is more familiar with having those sorts of feelings. Nothing much comes of it because I can't imagine Knox giving him any good advice on the subject, but after he was able to talk about liking you, he decides to just go for it. Well, in small steps. Primarily because he’s just not an intense guy, but also because he’s surprisingly mature when it comes to respecting your levels of comfort. Doesn't mean it gets boring though, it's Charlie we’re talking about. Once you get together there's not a one dull moment with him by your side

With Todd, it might be difficult at first. He’s overwhelmed by fis feelings and has a tendency to talk himself out of making any sorts of moves. Why would you like somebody like him? He tells himself he doesn't have a chance, surely. It only confirms his suspicions when you don't take initiative. It's only after he’s been moping around for a few days that Neil approaches him about it and proceeds to give him shit for not doing anything to let you know his feelings. He’s like, bro, so you care about them so much that you’d rather not have them in your life because you want them in your life so much??? Make it make sense. So with Neil's encouragement, he tries to at least talk to you and see where it goes from there. Still shocked when you end up returning his feelings. You’re in his poems now, even if it's not very obvious (he's not as straightforward as Knox, so it's not ‘i love (yn) and I want them to be mine’ kind of deal). This is the only one where I'm sure you might have to make some sort of a move. Todd’s like a spider - he’s more scared than you are and if he could, he would just silently hang out in the corner of the room you’re in. But he gets a little braver after he starts feeling more secure

Lastly, Pitts is not as bad as Todd, but still takes his time. He’s comfortable with liking you and he knows what he likes, but he’s not in any rush to make things official. So any time he has any chance to talk to you, he does and just wants to see how things go from there. He jokes around with you, asks to come study together, tries to be close. He does care, just in a more chill way than some of the other poets would. If you two have been talking for some time, he would have no problem asking you to go out with him, doesn't make you feel pressured or anything. If the others are cool with it he will do his best to have you come to their meetings at night as well. So you do not only get an awesome boyfriend out of it, but also a great friend group

[sandraharissa]

Despite me having issues with young Silco and thinking he’s too chill etc, that he’s ooc, for the most part I like him cos I like a bunch of choices they made with him.

I think for me it mainly boils down to 1) similarities with Jinx and in general portraying young Silco as tho he’s, well, young 2) not opting for the pathetic backstory route.

We already got a bit of a taste of that with the ‘dirty little thing’ quotes from the writers that thankfully at least didn’t actually make it on screen. But what if they did? A chill popular hip young Silco with his nose in his Nation of Zaun notebook is infinitely better than ‘dirty little thing’ Silco.

I think what’s so off with this idea for me is that Silco in s1 is an idealist and a dreamer. Suggesting that actually this guy has some deep seated insecurities takes away from that cos suddenly the focus of everything this guy does isn’t on his ideas and how he shared them with Vander and that’s what brought them together but on him managing his complexes and being obsessed with the one person who was nice to him.

I get giving such insecurities to eg Vi, a character who was a teen who was then imprisoned and unable to fight back/escape from these ppl who are supposedly superior to them. A character who in s1 actually had this established as part of their character “I grew up knowing I'm less than them, that my place is down there.”

But I’d think that out of all the characters the guy who looks into the distance and it’s like he can see the Independent Zaun in front of him, the guy who’s willing to commit atrocities for his cause, the guy who says “For respect. Opportunity. Everything they've denied us. [...] We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. [...] Played lapdog after everything we suffered.” is a guy who would be extremely confident about the stuff he believes in and not secretly have insecurities about being ‘dirty’/inferior. why would he ever behave and talk like that if he didn’t actually believe with every fiber of his being that they are equal (or maybe even better) than piltovans cos he's a dreamer and he can see it in front of his eyes when he looks into the distance even if they're not treated like that in the present.

I get the general idea that probs all zaunites have some complexes regarding Piltover but out of everybody to try to suggest that actually only for Silco it’s THAT big of a deal when in s1 it was the opposite is just nah. You’d think a character who says “The sons and daughters of Zaun deserve more than their runoff.” has ideological/political beef with Piltover and not dealing with his personal insecurities and wanting the approval of his abusers (Piltover/Vander). The last thing s1 Silco wanted was approval of him/his actions by others, like omg, he couldn't care less what others thought, it was one of his more distinct characteristics. ‘dirty little thing’ undermines the core of Silco’s character. If he’s not a dreamer pursuing his dream then what even is he. some guy who’s primarily preoccupied with the feeling that he is not enough? and that's why he fights and doesn't like Piltover? and that's why he's committing atrocities? in the name of getting ppl to like him???

Young Silco not giving a shit about Felicia’s issues, doing his own thing in his notebook whatever everyone else around him is doing, having a SYMBOL and a FLAG for his nation. It’s not bad. He’s still too chill/calm/fangless tho but I still think he was done the best out of the three.

[spread-the-influence]

I know its never gonna happen ever not ever, and that you only got the ragatha brainworms, but its been stuck in my brain since the jax murder.

if ragatha hadn’t been virus’ed, yet somehow still got to the point where jax says “to have a friend” (unlikely), would jax have actually opened up, or just shuttered himself as soon as the concept of being open sets back in? Could he have improved had he not been ganked?

forgive me for the essay below . ragatha may be rotting my brain but i still have elaborate thoughts on the other characters , even if i don't go to the levels of insanity i go for ragatha .

jax , to me , is a deeply lonely and miserable person , and i will say here that the line was kind of more ' a person that'll see and understand me ' . my interpretation of jax is not as charitable as most interpretations of him i've seen , though — he's not a jerk with a heart of gold or is secretly protecting everybody . he's just someone with a very destructive coping mechanism that harms everybody and himself .

he doesn't really see the cast as People , he sees them as Characters . a Cast in the big theater stage that is the circus . he prefers to do what's not boring by going off-script . this means making a mess out of the stage set , bothering the characters , and doing what he's Not supposed to do . it's entertaining ! it distracts him from how ... he's stuck in this stage forever . if he goes with the script , that fact would weigh on him . it's better that he does Not think about that . everyone would be surprised by how quickly that would make him lose his mind .

but it isn't fulfilling . it's a Distraction , an Avoidance . it's something that he does to Not confront his issues . my interpretation of jax at least puts up an emotional wall not Just because he doesn't want people to see his vulnerable side ( i like to think that the one thing he hates is being Wronged , and there's a certain level of suspicion that someone in the cast would do it if he lowers his guard ) but because he thinks there's No reason to put it down .

jax , like a lot of people , craves a community . he wants to be Wanted and Loved . but it's hard for him to get both of those things when these people are just ... Not real to him . what he wants most is That realness . he wants to know that in this big stage he's stuck in , there's someone else who is just as lost as him . someone that also isn't playing by the script . someone that's not a Character .

... and ragatha really doesn't fit those , as much as i'd hate to admit it . she is a Character . she plays the role of the optimistic and caring ragdoll . she is Far from fitting the image of a real person in jax's eyes . that conversation would naturally end in jax realizing he's opening up and shutting himself off — most likely Even more than he already does . basically he wouldn't improve ... with ragatha .

if there's someone that might fit the above paragraph , it's either pomni or zooble . i feel like these two would have better chances of making jax slowly open up with that kind of conversation , since they're both the most grounded and Real people in the circus .

i do not think that it would make jax instantly accept into the community of the circus — years of bad habits are Not easy to drop — but it'll be like a hand being extended to him . he sees that there's a world beyond the stage , and he takes it . and that's a lot more fulfilling than distracting himself .

lord i feel like this post is a contender enough to warrant a second ESSAY WARNING tag but yeah , jaxxle thoughts ! he's not in my top three favorites ( those respectively go to caine and zooble ) but i still find him interesting to think about .

[nyrasbloodyclover]

who else decodes you? (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)

cw: alcoholism, eating disorder, reader wants to fix aegon, aegon is pathetic, but i love him

a/n: i am finally writing fics again! another malachy and another aegon fic coming up, but i think i'll continue writing for daemon bc i miss him.

Targaryens were very strange. Well, I was only friends with Helaena, but being her friend also meant spending time with her family, as much as I didn't want to. She always invites me to their dinners and movie nights, so naturally, her brothers were also there. Their mother was always warm and welcoming, Alicent wasn't the issue, at least not to me. Nor was Aemond. He ignored me most of the time, which I had no problem with.

Whenever I stayed over, Aegon always found a way to bother me. When we watch a movie, he keeps tugging on my hair, or touching my neck in a very annoying way, I slapped his hand once and caused all of the attention to focus on us, which was so embarrassing  I immediately went home.

When I started dating my first and only boyfriend he somehow found out and mocked me until Helaena started yelling. She never does that.

Aegon was walking down the hallway when he saw me and Haelena sitting on her bed, with an open door, so he took that as his invite after hearing our conversation. He peeked from the door. "He's only waiting the right time. To fuck you, I mean."

My cheeks started burning. "Are you jealous?" I had no better answer to his remark.

"How could I be?" He grinned, ready for me to bite back, but when I didn't, he just giggled, "You'll just feel used after he's done with you."

Then Helaena snapped and kicked him out, cursing, which was the funniest thing, I couldn't even feel bad.

It turned out he was right, but not the way he thought. I couldn't stop thinking about his words, so I broke up with that guy. And then I found out he started dating someone, only to fuck her then leave her. Almost the whole school was talking about it, so he saved me from that humiliation. I was never going to admit it, though.

He was the strangest and most rebellious from the three of them. Aegon was drinking. Aegon was fucking. Aegon smoked and went to parties he was not supposed to. Actually, he was just harming himself, but nobody wanted to see that. It was like everybody turned their heads when it came to him, but it wasn't my place to comment on it.

He occupied my mind more than I'd like to admit. With all his unnecessary comments and devilish grins, Aegon got under my skin. 

Helaena once accidentally left her charger at my house and asked me to bring it to her. I had nothing to do, so I immediately went to her. What I didn't know was that nobody was home.

Well except for, obviously, Aegon.

I knocked once, then twice, but when no one opened I just entered. The house was empty. Or so I thought for the first few seconds. Until I heard muffled sobbing.

My whole body went rigid. I was invading someone's privacy at that very moment and I needed to go back home, but I couldn't. I knew the cries were coming from Aegon and it made everything worse. 

I went upstairs, dragging my feet towards his room. I didn't have to do anything. I could just go back and pretend I didn't hear anything. He was probably waiting to be alone, to have a moment to break down and I was ruining it.

"Aegon?" I thought he was going to be startled, yell at me to go away, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence. He was on the floor of his room, covered in vomit and spit, probably, with an empty bottle of god knows what. I wanted to cry.

His mouth was half opened, face relaxed for a second, then it became painful again, new set of tears coming through. I kneeled beside, holding his shoulders, "Aegon, can you hear me?" I wasn't panicking because it would do more harm than good. I gently pushed away his sweaty hair. 

I didn't know what was happening but I was going to help him before someone could see him like this. It was obvious that he did stuff like that when no one was near.

I ran to the bathroom first and took some towels, then to the kitchen for a glass of water. I somewhat had experience with things like this.

It was the middle of the day and he was wasted. 

I went to him and took his head into my lap while I cleaned away the vomit.

"I'm sorry." He turned his head away from me.

"It's okay," I whispered, "But please cooperate. You need to get into the shower." Aegon said nothing, but let me continue cleaning his face and neck.

"Come on, let me take off your shirt, Aegon please."

I somehow got him out of his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. He was so beautiful, and it hurt me to watch him like that. What a pretty, broken creature. He had tattoos over his arms and ribs that were much more prominent than last summer. We went to the pool together with Helaena and Aemond and I couldn't help but notice that change.

We managed to get into the bathroom and I dragged him under the shower, letting cold water shock him. His hair was soaking wet, I took another towel and tried to dry him as much as I could.

My heart was racing, he was completely depending on me in that moment and I was so scared someone was going to see us. 

We were in his room once again, Aegon on his bed, under the covers. I quickly cleaned his room, got rid of the dirty clothes and towels I used and hid the bottle. I sat beside him.

"Aegon, you need to eat something." 

"No."

"I'm afraid you have no control over that now." 

"No...don't want to..." 

"I will feed you if you don't do it yourself and I'll tell Aemond." His eyes immediately opened. 

"You wouldn't dare," he mumbled.

"I would." 

I brought him some leftover pizza from the fridge and he ate it, barely moving his jaw, he was almost unconscious. He drank some more water and finally closed his eyes, drifting away. I stroked his hair once more and then left after Sunfyre came into his room.

When I got home, a text from Haelena appeared on my screen.

Sorry for leaving my stuff, won't happen again (I think) <3

I smiled and answered her, because I knew it was going to happen but then one more message came.

Aegon says thank you

Don't know what for though 

I was realived that she didn't know about my little moment with Aegon. I wanted to keep that between us. He wasn't going to remember any of it tomorrow and I couldn't say I was glad.

A month later, Aegon moved out. He still visited home and stayed some nights, mostly when he went out. It set an alarm in my head, now that he was completely alone, he could do what he wanted as much as he wanted. It scared me.

When I started going out I started seeing him more, which didn't help. I couldn't stop thinking about the day I saw him almost poisoned, he let me take care of him in that vulnerable state. It had to mean something, right? Or nothing. He was drugged, nothing more.

When I was with my friends, sipping on my wine, trying to stay as sober as I could, I saw Aegon at the table across from us with some of his stupid friends and a girl on his lap, eating his face. He was hard to miss, with his almost white hair and eyes so blue they were practically violet. I spilled some wine on my golden shirt, but didn't care at the moment.

He stopped for a second to take a shot and then continued kissing her. I didn't know how he could drink after being so sick from alcohol that day. 

I watched him—No— I stared and all of my friends noticed, but to make everything worse, Aegon opened his eyes mid make out session with that girl and locked his gaze with mine. My stomach made a turn. The girl he was kissing didn't notice that his attention was on me. His eyes were intense, but his intention unclear, at least to me. I felt bad for the girl immediately so I broke eye contact.

She wasn't there when he needed someone. I was. Poisonous words.

One of my friends gripped my forearm, "What was that ?" 

"What was what?" I asked, my vision becoming hazy. I took the wine glass and quite literally shoved the rest of alcohol down my throat. And almost threw up.

"You, eye-fucking Aegon Targaryen from across the room?"

"I wasn't." My face was hot. Red wine. From red wine, yes.

"Oh, really?" She pulled out her phone with a photo, of me staring at something, someone, you couldn't see clearly who on the picture, but she was right. "Oh, my god! Delete that. GET RID OF IT!" I was eye-fucking Aegon!

"Told you!" She shouted over the music. 

I laughed. Then giggled. I couldn't believe. Then ordered another drink, until I couldn't see Aegon anymore. I was convinced that my mind would think more clearly without alcohol clouding it. I never ever thought about him like that. 

It was red wine, I thought. 

It wasn't red wine. The next day I couldn't stop thinking about him. I kept replaying the moment he turned his gaze towards me. The goosebumps, the pressure in my stomach and heat I felt throughout my whole body. 

Helaena asked me to hang out later that day. I obviously said yes because I adore her, but an unsettling feeling came and I knew exactly why. Aegon was probably going to be there, even though he had his own place.

I entered their house and everything was silent. I went to Helaena's room that was plastered with posters of bugs and pretty stones and her crazy drawings. She was reading a book and smiled when I came in.

"Where is everyone?"

"Mother is at work, Aemond at the library and Aegon is sleeping. He drank too much last night. As usual." She said that like it's no big deal. It bothered me. It bothered me that I cared enough to ask her about it.

"And none of you have a problem with that? I mean if I drank as much as him, my mother would actually kill me." I laughed so it wouldn't sound suspicious.

 "Well...No, not really. At the end of the day, It's just Aegon." I nodded, like I was agreeing with her, but that was far from the truth. We changed the topic but my mind always kept coming back to him. I couldn't stop.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," I said and left her room, I needed a splash of cold water on my face.

But instead of going directly to the bathroom, my eyes turned towards Aegon's room. The door was open, so I could clearly see him really sleeping on his bed, wearing a green hoodie, looking almost angelic. His hair was all over his forehead, his lashes gently touching his cheeks and he was hugging one of his pillows, comfortably snuggled. I wanted to stare at him for the next five hours but that just was not possible. Sunfyre ran into his room and jumped beside him. 

Aegon's eyes fluttered and my heart stopped, I thought I was going to get caught, but I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really. He frowned as he slowly opened his eyes and I couldn't move. His frown turned into self-satisfied smile but he just turned to the other side and continued sleeping. He didn't see me. 

Did he?

I quickly went back to Helaena's room, trying not to think about Aegon's perfect face, his soft hair and lips or the last night's encounter. Impossible.

She asked me to sleep over and I agreed after calling my mom. I wasn't too tired, since I slept good part of the day. We talked, ordered food, watched a rom-com. It was fun.

Haelena fell asleep and I went downstairs to clean the dishes, trying not to wake up anyone, it was almost three in the morning.

While I washed our cups I felt someone's presence behind me.

I turned my head. "Hello, Aegon. Why are you up so late?"

"I just woke up." His eyes were heavy, his words slow. Hungover, still in his green hoodie, hair messy.

"Well, are you hungry? There is some food left, Helaena and I-"

"Why do you act as if I'm a child?" He frowned. "I can eat if I'm hungry." He snapped suddenly at me.

I sighed, leaving rest of the dishes in the sink. I turned to face him.

"But you're not going to, am I right?" He said nothing.

"Aren't you hot in that?" I nodded towards his hoodie. I was in a top and low-rise shorts and I was still sweating like crazy.

"I can take it off if you want, mother." I couldn't breathe. I recognized mockery behind his words, it came to me like a slap. I knew that I was mothering him and he knew that too, which made everything even more embarrassing.

"No, thank you, I've already seen too much." I meant that as a lighthearted joke but his whole face darkened. Aegon's shoulders slouched and went stiff. He was silent.

"I didn't ask you to be there. I didn't ask for your help."

"Aegon, no, I didn't mean it like that. I could've walked out and then what?" I whispered at him, angry that he's not reading my emotions right. "Helaena calls me and tells me you're dead? That you choked on your own vomit?"

"Stop being dramatic, stop it. None of you understand, so quit trying to act as if you do. It's pathetic."

"Tell me one thing," I got closer, "When was the last time your own mother cared enough to even wonder what is happening with her son?" 

Aegon wasn't even offended by my statement. "Oh, okay, so you noticed. It was that obvious." He shook his head. I hated our conversation, but I also felt some kind of thrill when speaking to him like that. I wanted to know more.

"When did you start drinking? It seemed like you had a fair share of wine and...other things last night." He was changing the subject and I was glad.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Aegon."

"Well, then, you should come to my place sometime. I have a wine collection we could try out." 

My face heated, but then I remembered that he obviously has a problem. And I can't use him like that, no matter how much I wanted to get wasted with him and see where would that take us.

"Thanks for the invite, but I'll pass." Before I walked out of the room, I turned to face him once again, "And try not to make a mess again." I wanted to beg him to stop hurting himself but I was nothing to him, not even a friend, so I had no right to tell him what to do to his body.

"Not promising anything."

I was getting ready to go out, putting on red lipstick, mascara, some glitter over my arms and chest. 

I wore leather mini skirt and a black top that matched perfectly. I wish I thought about anything other than the fact that Aegon's apartment was so close to the club we were going to. What if— No. 

I had to stop myself from finishing that thought but I suddenly wanted to be near him, as near as possible.

I had a few drinks. Maybe more than few. Because you should either go big or go home. And I always followed that rule. I wanted Aegon to be there, my eyes were searching for him everywhere, until my head started spinning, that good, freeing feeling kicking in. I was brave enough now. I could do whatever I wanted.

"Should I take away your phone?" One of my friends shouted over the music.

"I'll behave. Promise." I smiled to myself, an idea already forming in my head. "I'm going to the bathroom, It'll be quick." They just nodded and I went in, sharp white lights blinding me. Everything was too bright, too loud. It was funny. I smiled to myself.

Some girls were inside too, but I didn't bother looking at them. I took out my phone, grinning, and found Aegon's contact.

Helllllllooooiiiiooooo

I didn't expect him to reply to me at all, but my heart did a jump when he replied. We never texted before.

hello? 

My fingers were almost numb and I genuinely had no idea what I was sending him.

AREE YOU BORRED?

certainly not now. u drunk?

I called him and he immediately picked up.

"Aegggoooonnnn?"

"What the fuck..." I guess he was just surprised. I laughed at him and when I gathered myself, I wanted to hang up because I genuinely had nothing to say to him, at least nothing that made any sense. But the reckless part of my brain won.

"Can I come over?" I grinned, he could not see it tho.

He was silent for a while. "Alone?" 

The girls in the bathroom giggled. 

"Yes, alone, you whore."

"I do live close, but you, my girl, are hammered."

"Oh my god, you said 'my girl'."

"It was just an expression."

"No it was not. Come pick me up, please. I helped you once, you should help me too!"

"And what do you suppose we do at my place? You can barely speak properly."

Oh, I did not want to say it. But he knew, And I also knew. 

"Nevermind, I'll call a cab."

"You don't know the adress."

I laughed again and hung up. I knew the adress, Helaena told me.

One of the girls in the bathroom looked at me, smiling, "Was that your boyfriend?"

"Hell, no." 

"So you just plan on hooking up with him, drunk? Do you think he'll want that?"

"To take advantage of my fragile and vulnerable state when I'm clearly not thinking right? Yeah. He can't wait."

"Be careful, I heard it's painful when you're drunk."

That was SO funny. So I cracked up. "If you saw him, you wouldn't think that." I had to stop talking, half of them probably knew Aegon, or fucked Aegon! 

I ditched my friends, that was not the right move, but I texted them my location and that everything is fine.

My feet were hurting but I hardly felt it. Cold night air was a nice change, I thought I might suffocate from the cigarette smoke. 

I called the cab and in five minutes I was in front of Aegon's door. 

Thank god I had one more drink before heading out, I couldn't be sober now. I was much braver, and let's hope Aegon lacked morals like I thought.

I knocked and waited, I was completely sure I heard his footsteps and then door opened. It took everything in me not to jump on him in that moment because I never saw him look so... comfortable.

His hair was a bit shorter, disheveled and Aegon's face seemed so soft. "Hi." I smiled and reached for his face, but his hand stopped me. His hand...

Yeah, I was too drunk.

He let me in and I jumped on his couch. I had no capacity of looking around. Everything was spinning. I sat on it, staring at his ceiling.

He was standing over me and he looked pretty pissed off.

"Why are you here?"

"I missed you!"

"Stop with the nonsense or I'm kicking you out."

"It's not nonsense! How dare you?" I laughed, "Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

He started mumbling to himself and walked away, only to be back with a huge glass of water.

"Nooooo! You're so boring! Aren't you the one who wants to fuck every living, breathing woman."

"Yes, I am. Now drink this."

"Oh, I know. You spiked it." I laughed again. Everything was really funny.

"What the fuck? No, actually, you're not right in the head now. It's fucking water. You need to sober up."

"Why? I though you'd fuck anyone."

"So that's why you're here...Yeah, no."

"What? Am I that despicable? You want anyone, just not me? Really nice."

"I want...I want you to fucking drink this. And start sobering up. Then tell me what you want."

"Oh, you'll see." I took the glass from his hand and gulped it down. He brought me some food and I started eating like a starved animal.

"Aren't you going to join me?"

"No." 

"I actually never saw you eat in the last year and a half." It was an accusation.

"Why are you so obsessed with me and eating? You need to relax."

"Aegon." I glared at him. He said nothing.

"I know what's going on and you have to quit it. I've seen you shirtless. It's scary. Plus the drinking—"

"What do you want? To save me somehow? Fix me?"

"Yes. I helped myself, I'm going to help you."

"I don't want that."

"Bullshit. Aegon, you're ruining your life. You don't eat enough and drink more than I do. That's concerning."

"Are you sober yet?"

"Yes," I lied. I still felt dizzy and brave enough to continue fighting with him.

"What will Helaena think?"

"About what?"

"Me fucking you when you're obviously still drunk and lying to me. Also, you can try to fix me and don't get mad if you fail."

It was like a dream come true. He gave me a permission and that I've always secretly wanted.

"Which one first? Do we fuck or do I try to fix you, as you say?"

"Surprise me."

I congratulated myself for wearing an outfit that was so easy to take off. Now I was standing in front of him in my underwear and he was as serious as ever.

I took a handful of his t-shirt and tugged on it, trying to take it off. He finally let me do it and then I pushed him backwards on his couch. I sat on his lap, straddling him and for a moment I just stared with the biggest grin. "You have no idea for how long I wanted this."

"And you needed to get drunk to actually do it?"

"You're intimidating." I bowed down and kissed him on the cheek, then on the neck, throat and I did it slowly, it was torture for both of us.

I finally reached his lips and I let myself feel his breath for a moment, before pressing my mouth to his. We moved in sync with each other, but I was desperate for more of him. 

"You should've been the one to ruin me. I wouldn't have regretted it."

Aegon closed his eyes as my hand went down his sweatpants, feeling him grow harder and harder with each passing second. But then he turned his face away from me.

"Please get off." Okay, I can't say that it didn't hurt. Especially coming from him. I sat beside him, trying to recover myself from the sudden emotions.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I just can't do it with you. Not yet. Sorry."

"Is that improvement I hear? Not being with a wasted girl?" I joked and thankfully he smiled. I smiled back.

"Go shower, you drunk. You reek of alcohol."

"You sound just like my fatheeeer." He basically pulled me into the bathroom and got out so that I could clean up. Aegon even left me his green hoodie, that green hoodie, but I didn't want to wear it.

"Aegon!" I was really feeling better, I felt like I could finally think clearly.

"Yes?" I heard his voice behind the door.

"It's okay, you can come in." I had a towel around me and as soon as he stepped in, his eyes shamelessly went over me, I hid my smile.

Aegon cleared his throat, "What is it?"

"Can you get me another?" I picked up the green hoodie and gave it to him.

"What's wrong with this one?"

I crossed my hands nervously. Yes, I was totally sober. "I want you to wear it." He looked taken aback by my request. It was a strange one, indeed, but at least there was a chance he's going to fulfill my wishes.

"But...You know what? Nevermind. I'll wear it."

He was so beautiful and he actually looked rested. I was sure he had been drinking, but there was no alcohol in sight. His whole apartment was mostly empty, but clean. I didn't know this side of Aegon existed. Then, he lied about his wine collection.

I followed him into his bedroom and he turned on the lights. Again, empty, no pictures, no decorations, just plain white walls and king-size bed. He opened his closet and threw another hoodie at me, while I was still in a towel. I took my underwear, at least, I was decent like that.

He didn't bother asking me to let him change, he just took off his shirt, revealing his bare torso and the tattoos I loved so much, but had no idea what they meant. He was scarred from the inside and it was starting to show but I said I won't let that happen.

"You quit drinking?" My eyes were on his face now, he was completely dressed.

"I am trying," he was staring at the floor, "How'd you know?"

"I had a feeling." He was a lot calmer, he didn't look so tired and there were no bottles in sight. It seemed like moving out was his best decision yet. I didn't know what triggered his urges, but I was glad he was on his own now.

I put on the clothes he gave me and we went back into his living room. We sat beside each other.

"About earlier..." He started.

"I should apologize, I shouldn't have drank that much and you shouldn't have seen it."

"I am glad it was me and not someone else. But I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"What? How?" I frowned, genuenly confused if he was still talking about the same thing.

"I backed out in the last second. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"Aegon. I was drunk and out of my mind. I wouldn't have regretted it, but...I want to do it again, when I can remember everything clearly. If you want it too, that is."

He looked at me like a lost puppy and it broke my heart, I didn't know the details about his habits, or his friends that were clearly effecting his life in all the worst ways. All of that made him think that everything is his fault and that he deserved no better.

"Are you nuts? Of course I want to. It's like my most bizarre dream, you, drunk throwing yourself at me—"

"Oh, I wasn't—" Yeah, I was.

"You were, darling, and I rejected you. What a dumb cunt."

I laughed and felt comfortable for the first time with him, because there was no one else who could judge and interrupt. 

It was almost 5AM and my eyes felt so heavy I couldn't keep them open anymore.

"You should take me on a proper date, Aegon." I unconsciously rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes finally. It was too good to be true.

"And ruin my reputation? Yes, I think I should."

Sleep came over me and I felt Aegon shift under my body, until I was laying on top of him, my head on his chest. He was stroking my hair.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König of the Icks (cont.)

More König of the Icks (Because He’s a Giant Dweeb)

Art Credit

König talks through movies

He talks through them so much that he loses track of the movie, and then gets confused and other people have to pause the movie to catch him up to speed

The only way to get him to shut up is to keep his mouth busy. No, not like that, he’s too interested in the movie for that. You have to get him eating.

On this note, König is constantly snacking and while at first it’s cute, it becomes a nightmare.

König has a very mild case of hypoglycemia. It’s not to a point where it causes his any problems when overseas, but it causes issues when he’s home and he’s run out of snacks

He becomes a little bitch

König, when grumpy, is an ass to deal with because he won’t tell anyone what’s wrong but he’ll be snippy and obnoxious and he becomes a total princess about everything.

Bedding’s too lumpy, his seat’s too hard, his book is too boring, you’re talking too much (you haven’t said anything in the past hour), everything is wrong

Eventually you realize he’s just hungry but refuses to admit it.

Now, you have to keep tiny trays of snacks filled in all the rooms he frequents. Usually he likes peanuts and raisins as a snack, but sometimes a dish of dried fruit or a bowl of granola is enough to sate him.

He used to eat junk food as a kid, but he’s since switched to healthy snacks because it makes his mother feel better

Speaking of his mother, he tells his parents everything

He calls his parents at least once a week, and he’ll tell them everything that’s happened since the last call. Yes, this includes things you wish he wouldn’t say, like how you smashed a glass or how you said something dumb over dinner. He’s so happy to share these things and laugh at them with his parents.

Another thing is that he’ll also call all his siblings and repeat these stories to each one of them. It’s miserable. You have to relive your blunders at least five times before it’s put to rest

Until the next family meeting, which is when it all gets brought up again

Speaking of talking to others, once König is comfortable with someone he becomes a bit of a chatterbox

It’s like he has to make up for his dreadful, ominous silence every time he interacts with people he doesn’t trust very much, so you are on the end of all of his vents about the day

You’ll learn things about people you wished you never knew

Roze has a dartboard that she pins her enemy’s faces to, and Horangi has been on the bull’s eye three times the past week

Horangi snores loud enough to wake up König

Hutch one broke Aksel’s phone on purpose and then slipped it in the lounge sofa cushions, then promptly blamed it on Klaus to start a cultural war

Nikto eats everybody’s lunches (except König because König’s reputation around food is too scary to steal from)

Stiletto has hidden stashes of cigarettes all over the base to smoke when people aren’t looking

What you learn about König is that he’s a horrible gossip

König is such a shitter with gossip too because he’ll go on about how everyone keeps telling him things he doesn’t want to hear, but if he doesn’t want to hear it or he doesn’t care about it at all why does he keep repeating it all to you???

He’s literally the worst gossip sometimes. However, the news from the base can be absolutely fascinating

König also has a bad habit of getting caught up in shenanigans

For some reason, everyone wants a König when going on an adventure, and there are only so many König’s to go around so he’s always being pulled into bullshit that is way beyond his paygrade

And example of shenanigans is when Horangi wanted to get over his fear of heights, so he decided to go cliff jumping when on a mission in South Africa. He was too scared to go on his own, so he got König because ‘if the ropes can hold you, they can hold me’ and so König was dragged out to the cliffs

Another time Oz took him to a chili contest back home that ended up lasting for two days before König came back. He still doesn’t know what all the hype is about.

So thus, König is an endless source of good stories, but nobody believes you when you tell them because ‘he’s the big awkward Autrian guy, right? What are you talking about? He never says anything, how the hell did he come out first in a slam poetry contest?’ and so you suffer knowing that you live with all of König’s stories and yet nobody to tell them to