#most normal black brothers interaction

[politicalstreetartt]

Lil snippet of a fic in cooking up

“Must you go around with a massive stick up your arse all the time?” Regulus snaps, dropping his hand onto James’ under the table.

Sirius growls. “My stick is bigger than your stick!” He throws a brief, apologetic look James' way. “No offence, mate.”

It takes just a second for it to register in James' head before he exclaims,

“Hey!”

“Should we order some shots?” Remus pipes up as he takes his wine and brings it to his lips.

[sturnlsstuff]

BIRTHDAY BOY | mean!chris x fem!reader

— warnings: smut, mdni, dom!chris, sub!reader, mentions of alcohol, cursing, pet names (slut, bitch, whore, ma, sweetheart, etc.), p in v, oral (m receiving), rough unprotected sex, dirty talking + more...

— summary: you're at the triplets' birthday party. you've been hanging around matt all evening, which is starting to irritate chris. he doesn't like you, but the way you're all over his brother is getting on his nerves, so he decides to put you in your place.

~~~~

ever since you entered the triplets' house, chris's eyes were only on you. he didn't want it, you were annoying. he never really liked you and you knew it but still, when you wished his brothers a happy birthday, giving them a hug and gifts, you gave chris some of your attention too, by having a small gift for him as well even though you never really interacted before. he couldn't help but be a bit surprised, muttering a quiet "thank you", and you were sure this would be the only time the two of you interacted that night. you were nick's and matt's bestfriend, not his.

once you turned around, his eyes roamed all over your body, noticing how slutty you were dressed. a short black dress that fits your body, perfectly emphasizing your curves, barely covering your ass. your long black hair falling in waves down your back. god, you were attractive, he couldn't deny it.

the party was getting more and more fun as the hours were passing. chris was having fun, there's a lot of drinking involved, but his attention still goes back to you every now and then, when he notices you in the crowd of people in his living room. he sees you with matt most of the time. it's normal, you two are friends, but today something about it doesn't sit right with him. maybe the fact that when you dance with his brother, your ass brushes against his crotch too much for his liking. or that you were practically all over matt almost leaning against him, when he spotted you two in the kitchen taking shots. something about this just kept pissing him off.

however, chris tries to distract himself with other girls, they clung to him as usual, each of them wanted to be today's chosen one that he would take to his room. yet still his mind kept going back to you and he couldn't understand why. he didn't like you. you were arrogant, always making smartass little comments with your filthy mouth, he just couldn't stand you. then why did he feel this possessive feeling fill him, when he saw you whispering something into matt's ear, both of you sitting close to each other on the couch with your hand on his thigh? it could've been nothing, matt looked totally casual, but it just annoyed chris for some reason. he wanted you to whisper things to his ear, to touch him. he wanted to be the one who would make you cry from pleasure tonight. even if he was fully aware that matt had no interest in you. he didn't really understand why he was feeling that way, but it was making him sick.

totally ignoring the blonde haired girl who was practically glued to his side, chris pushed her off of him once he spotted you sneaking out of the living room. he took one last sip of his drink, throwing the red plastic cup aside, his eyes never leaving your figure as he followed you.

he found you knocking on the bathroom door, trying to get inside and yelling that you just have to pee, but the person who occupied the bathroom had no intention of leaving, so you just sighed annoyed, deciding to wait.

chris leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, literally eye-fucking you before he decided to speak up.

"havin' troubles here?" he couldn't hold back the little smirk that appeared on his lips, when you suddenly turned around and noticed him. you were a little tipsy, he didn't miss the way you looked a little surprised that he just spoke to you, but then you just checked him out being completely unaware of this. that made chris clench his jaw a little.

"it's fine just... they don't want to leave this fucking bathroom." you sigh once again, kicking the bathroom door with the back of your shoe, but the person inside just yelled to fuck off.

that's when an idea appeared in his head. he looked you up and down, your dress being a little bit rolled up from the constant dancing, making his thoughts go wild. "there's bathroom downstairs, you can use it."

you raise your eyebrows a little bit. "yeah?"

"mhmm, i can take ya there, c'mon." his eyes lazily roam over your poorly covered body again, which doesn't go unnoticed by you. you are hesitant, but the pressure in your bladder is building and you just have to pee.

once you nod, chris's smirk widen a little as he shows you to go first. he's right behind you while you both go downstairs, his eyes shamelessly glued to your ass while you walk, his pants growing a bit tighter with every second, but he ignores it for now.

he opens the door to his room, letting you in so you do. you were never in chris's room before so you can't help your curiosity and quickly looks around. that's why it's unnoticed by you when he locks the door behind you both.

"there." he points at the another door. you nod and a moment later, you're in his bathroom finally being able to pee.

chris runs his tongue over his teeth, adjusting the backwards hat on his head as he thinks. he had no idea what and why he was doing this, but he always could blame it on the alcohol later, right? he sits down on his chair at the desk, waiting for you and when you finally leave his bathroom, he can't help but smirk a little bit. you come back to the room, adjusting your dress until your eyes spots him. he looked nice today, wearing his camo pants and a black shirt. pretty casual, but it fitted him so well. your attention always was on the bracelet he was wearing on his wrist, it was making you think of wild things you would never say out loud.

"thanks." you mutter, ready to leave his room, but his voice stops you.

"you into matt, huh?" his voice was dripping with irony, almost as if he was making fun of you. you stop in the middle of the room, turning to face him, seeing him sitting with his legs spread and his head slightly tilted to the side, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes scan your body. it made you flustered a little bit, but you quickly composed yourself.

"what?" you frown, not really understanding his question. matt was only your bestfriend, he should know this.

"y'heard me. bein' all over my brother like a little slut. this was gonna be your birthday gift for him, huh? y'know, not only he's the birthday boy here."

your eyes widen with surprise, even if you had some little arguments with him in the past, he never talked to you so disrespectful. it made your blood boil. "excuse me?"

"oh c'mon, sweetheart, dont gimme this act now, when all night you jus' waited for the right moment to give matt some head."

he stands up walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. he wasn't thinking straight, the mix of alcohol and the need he felt for you all evening made him want to do something he had fantasized about before for a few times, but never thought he would do. at the end of the day you were annoying, he didn't like you. it didn't change the fact he found you hot.

"you're a fucking dick." you say with disbelief, turning around to leave his room when suddenly in one quick movement, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him and pushes you against the door. a surprised gasp escapes you when his body presses against yours, and you can feel his hardness brushing against your thigh.

"say that again, i dare you." his voice was harsh, he was looking down at you with his blue eyes full of hatred, but with a glimpse of something else you couldn't exactly name. you swallow, adrenaline pulsing in your veins and after a moment of silence, you speak up.

"you're a dick, chris." you repeat and just after the look on his face, the regret filled up your body almost immediately.

he clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, looking away for a second and a low sarcastic chuckle leaves his lips. you feel your heart speeding up when he looks back at you, his eyes darken. you got a little bit scared, it was noticeable in your expression, but you also felt this familiar heat growing between your legs, making you a little confused. he was pissed off and it made him even hotter, making you go a little crazy.

"yeah? y'wanna act like a bitch? then imma treat you like one." he lets go of your jaw, moving away from you and unbuckling his belt. "on your knees."

you blink a few times, watching his movements and when you realize what he's doing, your breath quickens. "w-what?"

"i said get on your knees. unless you wanna play naughty and piss me off more." he gives you a look, unzipping his pants. he wasn't really sure if you will listen to him, or just call him a freak and want to leave. he had this feeling in his chest you will give in though, and it came true when you hesitatingly moved down, your bare knees meeting his cold floor.

a smirk appears on his lips once again when he looks down at you, pulling his pants and boxers down to his ankles. his cock splits out smacking his stomach and you look at him with wide eyes, swallowing. he was leaking with precum, definitely bigger than you would've expected and that sent vibrations straight to your core, making your panties wet. you would lie if you say you've never thought about this before, in the back of your mind there always were some dirty thoughts about chris, whenever you were hanging out with his brothers and he was there too. something about him was just making you going insane, yet you never ever admitted these thoughts to anyone, since chris also not really liked you and you didn't want to embarrass yourself.

"open up f'me." seeing you from this angle was like his deepest fantasies coming true, his dick hardening even more just by the view of you being on your knees, looking up at him with those doe eyes. your mind going blank, neither of you cared about the party upstairs as you obediently opened your mouth. "good... now stick out that tongue, baby."

you do as he says, he guides his cock on your tongue, grinning. "yeaaah, jus' like that—"

he traces your upper lip with his tip before in one sudden movement he eases himself into your mouth, not even giving you any time to adjust to his size when he starts moving his hips, his cock hitting the back of your throat. you moan, fighting your gag reflex, your eyes filling with tears.

"you wanted him to fuck you, huh? dressed so slutty for him?" chris asks, brushing your hair out of your face and gathering them into a messy ponytail. gripping it tightly, his thrusts gets more aggressive, as you close your eyes wanting to deny whatever he's saying, but not being able to. "look at you. so fuckin' pathetic. thought you'd suck my brother's dick tonight, hm?"

you take all of him, his hips picking up the pace as his grip on your hair tightens, making you whine against him. "open your pretty eyes, ma..— mhhh, fuckk...— wanna see ya lookin' at me ruining those smartass mouth of yours..."

your pussy clenches around air as soon as you open your eyes, met with his stare. one tear running down your cheek as you match chris's pace and starts moving your head, wanting to give him so much pleasure as you could. he was so rude, but yet it was turning you on more than it should.

"mmm, y'like that—? shiit... y'like being used? like the fuckin' whore you are? oh fuck—"

he keeps thrusting into your mouth, his lips slightly opened as low groans escaping him, the way your mouth felt around his cock made his control slipping away. you put your hands on his hips, tongue flattening against his length, cheeks hollowed, making him curse under his breath and his hips stuttering.

"fuck— you s'good at this... can be a good girl when y'want, hm? oh— shit—" he hisses, pulling onto your hair harder. the moan that escapes you sending vibrations against him. the whole time you both kept the eye contact, he was sure you could send him over the edge just with your mouth, but he craved more. "suckin' my dick so good— mhm, fuck— but that's... enough...." one last hard thrust, before his movements stops and he pulls out of you with a pop sound. breathless, you look at him confused, saliva dripping down your chin.

"stand up." he says letting go of your hair. this time you don't have to hear it twice, immediately getting up. chris grabs your hips, making you turn around and bends you over his desk, with your chest pressed against it.

your pussy pulsing and begging for some kind of relief, as you feel chris pressing against your back and whispering into your ear. "you look so hot in this dress, ma. want me to fuck you in it?"

he was fully aware there was no need to ask, it was obvious, but he wanted to hear you say it. his hand already traveling up your inner thigh, making you shiver. you nod, wanting him to touch you so badly. "you either using your words or gettin' nothin', honey."

his tone mocking you, almost as if it was funny to him what state he had gotten you into. it was boosting his ego. he runs his middle finger over your wet panties, making you whine in response.

"so soaked and i ain't even touched you yet."

"i— i need you to..." you mutter, your cheek pressed against his desk as you feel him moving, not towering over you anymore.

"y'need me to what exactly?" he asks sarcastically, rolling your dress up to the level of your hips, your ass on full display for him now. he looks down, squeezing your butt with his hands as he smirks. you could literally feel his hard dick pressing against your inner thigh.

"fuck me." you pathetically whine, moving your hips back. a low chuckle leaving his lips, he pulls your underwear down to your knees and runs his tip over your wet folds, stealing a whimper from you.

"had no idea y'such a slut before." he spreads your legs a bit with his own, lining his cock against your dripping pussy and with one sudden movement entering you, your saliva from sucking his dick previously and his precum acting as lube. once again, not giving you any time he starts moving his hips. slowly but hard, making sure you feel him deep. "could've told me sooner... would do this to you a long time ago..."

a scream leaving you as you feel his entire length inside you, his tip brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. his fingers digging into your hips to keep you in place while he fucks you from behind more and more aggressively, low groans escaping him as he does.

"look at you... sucking my cock in s'good— mmphhh, holy fuck— so tight... so tight f'me, yeah?"

"c-chris— oh my—" you moan, gripping the edge of his desk with your hands. you feel his hand slapping your ass, the skin burning but it turns you on only more. he quickens his pace.

"mmm— that's it, ma... that's ittttt— y'like it rough, huh? such a whore, so pathetic...."

he had no intention of stopping, in fact he had a plan to make you remember this party for the rest of your life. he wanted you to come back for more. for you to become addicted. he slaps your ass again, his cock sliding in and out of your dripping entrance at an awfully fast pace, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. drops of sweat appear on his forehead as he throws his head back, his fingers pressing into your skin, leaving marks. you were fucked out of your mind, moaning loudly and squeezing your eyes as it could help. your pussy clenching around him, his hips stuttering when he feels that, it makes another growl slip out of his mouth.

"holy fuck— you keep squeezin' me so tight... fuck— keep doin' that and i— might cum—" he hisses, his pace making the desk tremble with every thrust. a loud cry of his name leaves your lips in response, once again he feels how hard you clench around him. "yeah? want me to fill ya up? fuckkkk—" his pace was relentless, your constant squeezing his dick in, sending both of you over the edge. "mhmm, c'mon, be good f'me.... cream all over my cock... i wanna... feel it—" you bite your lip but even this can't muffle your load moans, his movements getting sloppier though still hitting you deep. "y'heard me? remember who's the— fuck, birthday boy here— gimme a good gift, can you—?"

"please— my god— 's too much... c-chris, i'm—" you cry out, then another scream leaves your lips, when the knot that had been building in your lower stomach finally releases, your legs shaking. your pussy sucks him in deep, his dick twitches inside you and unable to hold back warm cum bursts from his tip, filling you up and making you squeal. followed by his groan, he rides out the high then slowly pulls out of you, looking down at your stretched hole leaking cum. both of you breathing heavily, he lets go of your hips standing back, your knees weak but you slowly lift yourself up.

he pulls his boxers and pants up, buckling his belt, his eyes never leaving you as you try to stay on your trembling legs. you blink a few times, looking over your shoulder at him, he notices how messed up your makeup is, lipstick smeared on your lips and chin, mascara streaked on the cheeks, hair all messy as well. a little smirk appearing on his lips as you held his gaze and he moves closer. his eyes fixed on yours as he leans down a little and pulls up your panties, then adjusting your short dress, pulling it down. you were out of breath, speechless, not being able to think, when his thumb runs over your bottom lip, messing up the lipstick even more. "make y'self look presentable. unless y'wanna let everyone upstairs know how good i just fucked you." he tilts his head to the side, grinning more. "can't let them know what kinda slut you are, yeah?"

you pathetically shake your head, trying to fix your hair with your hands, and slowly walking towards his bathroom to actually fix yourself up. his eyes once again traveling down to your ass, he was feeling proud. proud that he made you fucked out of your mind, not anyone else. he sits down on the edge of his bed, leaning on his hands, his legs spread. he looked relaxed, the smirk never leaving his lips, as a few minutes later he sees you coming back to the room. you were definitely trying your best to look as nothing happened, yet he knew one look at you and people will know you were with someone. he didn't say anything though, feeling the weird possessiveness filling his chest, knowing you will have to come back upstairs in this state.

making the eye contact with you, he says. "next up you wanna be all over matt, think twice and pick the right brother to fuck you outta your mind, 'kay?"

"y-yeah."

—————————————

a/n: lowk need this irl okay bye

[xenodile]

"Shuro loves Falin for the same reasons he hates Laios" Completely and utterly wrong, could not be further off base.

I get the impression a lot of people watching Dungeon Meshi as it airs, or are a bit removed from its original manga run, have forgotten that Laios and Falin being monster freaks wasn't actually apparent until the events of the story. The only person that knew Falin loved monsters as much as Laios was Marcille because they were best friends at school.

Once Laios and Falin were in an adventuring party together, they both had public facing personas because they had both learned through their separate upbringings that being super interested in monsters and dungeons wasn't normal. Laios is the blunt but well meaning, outspoken and opinionated guy we all know, but Falin was way more withdrawn and soft-spoken, non-confrontational, easy to get along with. Everyone that interacted with Falin would say she's a sweet, gentle girl that everyone likes. Because she was, frankly, kind of a doormat.

The whole thing with Toshiro's infatuation with Falin is he doesn't actually know her. She is outwardly very polite and reserved, and that appeals to Toshiro because it meshes with his cultural sensibilities and how he was taught people are supposed to behave. Then he sees her marveling at a caterpillar in a private moment and decides on the spot that she's the ideal woman and proposes without actually talking to or getting to know her.

And his lack of understanding of Falin as a person is brought to the forefront in every action he takes after she gets eaten. He leaves the party and makes no attempt to contact the two people that Falin loves the most. Whether it's a matter of him just not knowing how much Falin cares about her brother and Marcille, or actively avoiding Laios to rescue Falin himself, he's demonstrating that he doesn't actually know what's important to her or understand how she feels.

Then when he meets Laios's party on the lower floors and they go over what happened, it's made even more blatant that Toshiro's affection is shallow and half-baked. He came into the dungeon a week too late and neglected his health the whole way down, so he was in no state to actually try and save Falin when he got there. When Laios talks about eating monsters, something Falin was thrilled about, Toshiro is disgusted. He threatens to kill Laios and turn Marcille in, which would never fly with Falin. His anger at the use of black magic is entirely based in his selfish idea of Falin being tainted and blaming Laios and Marcille for "ruining" his attempt to rescue her, as Kabru points out that Toshiro would have done the exact same thing in their shoes and that he's being a hypocrite. To say nothing of how he'd rather kill Falin after she's been transformed and "put her to rest" rather than put any effort into saving her, because that would require further involvement from Laios and Marcille and methods that Toshiro doesn't approve of.

And there's the fight he has with Laios, and Toshiro's subsequent confession that he had hoped to just take Falin home with him. He at no point gives consideration to what Falin feels or what she might want, only what he has decided about her based on the most surface level observation. Just like how his problem with Laios arises from his refusal to just talk to him about his boundaries, he has no actual connection with the woman he claims to love because he just wouldn't actually talk to her.

Like it's not a coincidence that every time his attraction to Falin is brought up, another character goes "yeah he's being weird about it".

[hello-eden]

Unexpended Hope 2

part one

Tim wanted to lay at home at the Manor on the couch and work on his case. He hates galas. He's the best at them but that does not mean he likes it. Dick realizes that Damian's been missing for over a hour so Tim volunteered to go look for him.

He's checked the entire floor above, the cameras in the lobby and he just gets up the stairs for the next floor when he sees him. Tim almost doesn't recognize him for a minute. He has a small smile and is talking with his hands, which is something Damien never does but everything else about him is the same. Damien is talking to someone that Tim can't see.

There's no place to really hide over here so he just stand in the stairway and wait to be noticed. It took a lot longer than Tim thought it would be noticed but in that time he sees the person that Damian's talking to.

It's a girl. 

Tim was not expecting to find Damien with someone let alone a girl. Damien seems to be enjoying whatever they are talking about but that doesn't make it any less unusual. She's auburn hair braided out of her face in a teal mid length dress with black accents. 

What surprises him the most other than the fact that she is not flinching away from Damien is that she's wearing Damien’s suit jacket.  It's about 5 minutes before either of them notices that he's in front of them.

The two of them exchange a look and then Damien seems to go back to his normal self. he's scowling he's glaring at him like he usually does and he has no signs of what Tim's assuming was happiness that he had seconds before.

“Drake, is there a reason you are here?” Damien sneered at him.

 “You've been missing from the party for almost 2 hours. We came looking that you didn't kill anyone” Tim responded back.

The girl that Damien was talking to started to giggle. Instead of glaring at her, Damien tried to pinched her without looking away from Tim. The girl slapped Damian's hand away before he could actually do it.

 “Who's your friend?” Tim questions refusing to be the one to break eye contact with Damien first.

 “Sarah Lauren” the girl replies, snapping in front of their eyes and then holding out a hand for him to shake.

 He does.

 “you're Byron Lauren's daughter right Bruce was just talking to him when I left” Tim smiles his best socialite smile.

it's probably useless now that she's seen him interact with Damian but it's better to be polite. Sarah seems to twitch after he said that. if he wasn't trained as well as he was he wouldn't have noticed.

 “If we are done with this Dreadful small talk” Damian brings the attention back to himself. If Tim didn't know any better he would think it would stop Sarah being uncomfortable. “is my presence required back at that Useless occasion.” 

“Bruce Needs you for something” Tim says trying not to mention what it was in front of the obvious civilian. There isn't anything Cape related but he'd prefer to have Damian alone to talk to him and that would be going much easier if Damien thought it was a cape thing.

“lead the way back to those horrid party guests.” 

Tim does move to leave them back to the party going ahead in front of them but definitely listening to whatever they're going to say behind him 

“How do you know him?”  Sarah asks Damian. Damien didn't instantly introduce himself as a Wayne? That's different or does she not know anything about the Wayans and she just didn't put it together.

 “Third brother” Damien replies. 

“Third brother, how many siblings do you have?” Sarah questioned

Tim needed to talk to Dick about this. He's the one who keeps up with Damien's social life; he'd know what is going on.

[catiuskaa]

RAINKISSED CHERRIES.

summary: by chance or luck, you and minho found each other that rainy summer evening. dirty dishes, cherries and all.

series masterlist (☆) collab with @dalamjisung !

wc: 3.1k

cw: absolute heart-wreaking fluff! short mentions of bullying, minho is a soft introverted cutie pie, the reader is a cherry enthusiast, and a slight suggestive thing on the end [as a present for all of you who thought the cherry emoji on the poll was for dirty stuff, lololol]

[🔺 ★ 🍒 ★ 🔺]

Minho was used to being alone. 

It didn’t scare him, not really. He didn’t feel fear when all that was happening around him was the silence that crowded the restaurant after a busy day as he cleaned up his kitchen. He relished the scent of lemons that lingered on him after he was done, sometimes going as far as doing the dishes by hand instead of popping them into the dishwasher, in an attempt to intensify it.

He knew most people wouldn’t understand. And quite frankly, he didn’t mind it. The kitchen was his space. No one came in during their shifts, merely speaking to him through the window that divided it from the rest of the place. He could cook without interruption, with the tranquil chatter that the clients brought merely on the background as he hummed distant tunes he couldn’t remember the lyrics to while chopping vegetables or cleaning up a fish.

So he took his time cleaning too, waiting for his ears to get used to the absence of noise and to welcome the reverberation his steps made when he walked around cleaning the counters, or when he moved the plates and cutlery and glasses, the sounds all too familiar, or sometimes new ones, like the door to the fridge that now chirped as he opened it while checking on the list next to it to see what he’d need to buy or refill.

The rain sounded shyly as it fell on the roof over him, like a gentle reminder to bring an umbrella to work. Its soothing charm made him sigh in comfort, and Minho relished in the sound of nothing at all that filled the restaurant after closing.

And when there was a sudden shaking of the backdoor, is why his heart skipped a beat. Or that’s what he liked to think at first, considering that it seemed much more normal to relate that to the unexpected sound rather than the unexpected, unknown visit.

“We’re… closed,” Minho uttered, frowning lightly, confused at the sight of you.

He was pretty sure it was late enough for you to know that the restaurant was closed —if the fact that the sign over the main door that read HAVEN wasn’t on couldn’t have been a dead giveaway already—.

But under his disoriented grin, he found you smiling. “Right. S-sorry,” you mumbled. Your hair was wet, your clothes too, which was also weird, considering summer rain showers were never intense to such an extent.

It brought the conclusion that you had probably been walking under the rain for a while.

“Did you… um.” He felt a small lump in his throat, and he cursed in his mind.

Minho knew he wasn’t cut out for customer service. That’s why his brother, Felix, like the everlasting ray of sunshine he was and had always been, was the one who managed the front while he stayed in the kitchen. The sole contact he had with clients would be when they sat on the window by the kitchen, and that was only allowed in the early mornings, which meant barely any people interacted with him aside from the casual, “coffee, black,” or “is there a newspaper I could read?” He kind of enjoyed that sort of contact. Minho didn’t even need to answer, merely nodding and following suit to what the clients demanded.

But this was different, and despite himself, he tried to push through. “You’re soaked.” He stated, a fact you didn’t dare to contradict, as foolish as that might have been, taking in the state of you. “Come in. You’ll get a cold.”

He moved on autopilot as he headed to the locker that stood in the corner of the kitchen. There was a small smile of triumph that crossed his face when he found the towels that Felix kept there for rain showers, and grabbed one.

“Take a seat… if you, um, want to.”

You blinked at him, puzzled, watching as he left the neatly folded towel over the windowsill-like counter.

Licking his lips, Minho just stared at you, doubting his every action, going as far as wondering if his breathing was too loud for the silence that crowded the restaurant, bubbling with the gentle words he had just spoken.

But then your eyes got teary, and you smiled at him like he had hung the stars in the sky for you to see. His heart did a thing at the sight of your new-formed happiness, beating a bit faster as you took the towel and messily squeezed your hair with it, sitting on the other side of the counter.

You were an unexpected visit in his space. His kitchen. His mind related that to the fact that his heart was going what his brother would call “bananas”, now timidly troubled at the sight of you.

It was a small diner in a small village. With the exception of tourists here and there, arriving in boats to enjoy the cool water to ease the warmth the Sun brought. But there were no boats that night, if Minho’s view of the sea from the kitchen was right. Still, he had no idea who you were, nor how it was that he had never seen you before.

“Do you have a charger I could borrow?” The tone of your voice was soft, almost as soothing as the silence had been before your arrival.

He nodded, handing it to you with a sheepish smile on his features, ones that matched your own.

You sighed, plopping your head down against the towel, laying on the counter, fidgeting with the stool you were sitting on, moving side to side.

“Are you not going to ask?” You mumbled softly, playing with the wet strands of hair that fell over your eyes.

Truth be told, Minho hadn’t planned to, not when he had just remembered he had to dry and hang the wine glasses over the counter.

He let out a somewhat breathless chuckle as he unloaded the glasses from the dishwasher.

“Last time I walked for hours in the rain, I wasn’t keen on people wondering why.”

Your gaze felt piercing against his face, but he pretended to be so very interested in drying the glass in his hands. Mmh, oh, yes, glass was made out of glass. Surprising.

The snicker that passed your lips felt equally sad and amused, and a small part of Minho couldn’t help but think that it sounded way better than the tinkles of the dishes.

“Guess so, yeah.”

“You do look like you have a good story to tell.” He grinned bashfully.

The tips of his ears turned pink, but he didn’t mind it when he noticed the shimmer in your eyes turning lighter, entertained by his words.

“You think so?”

He cherished the giggle you let out. Better than a bittersweet snicker. Much better. 

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

A gentle blush dusted your cheeks, and you remained silent, wondering what could be the best way to explain how you had ended up there, like a stray kitten, scratching the wooden door.

“A friend invited me over. I live nearby, I moved recently, but her house is closer to the main plaza here. You know, where the summer concerts are.” He nodded, attentively listening to your every word.

It wasn’t a place he frequented, much less when it was so crowded, but it was easy to hear the music and see the lights from his room, a recurrent scenario every summer since he could recall.

“I don’t drink. Which, to a bunch of twenty-something-year-olds, seems weird enough to comment on it every single time. Sometimes they say that I ruin the vibe, that I’m a killjoy. It’s whatever.”

Now, Minho sucked at social cues half of the time, —the other half he just wasn’t interested enough to give a flying fuck—, but even for him it was easy to say that, to you, it wasn’t just whatever.

“We went to today’s—, well, yesterday’s concert.” You snickered, but your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It was okay. They had their fair share of alcohol, I had apple juice. I can’t say I didn’t have fun.”

Minho felt his heart pout inside his chest when he saw you shrug nonchalantly. And he lied too, by omission, deciding not to comment on it.

“Then we went back to my friend's house.” Your tone had changed, and the palms of your hands pressed into your eye sockets, as if that could make the memory of a few hours ago more bearable. “And I had this necklace on. A silly thing. Gold.” You muttered, moving your hands to your jaw as you kept speaking. “Probably fake anyways.”

You gulped, as if swallowing dry. “Suddenly, the girl who invited me turned against me.” You bit your lip, chuckling a cold laugh out of your system. “Said I was only there to drive them, because I didn’t drink. But now her boyfriend had a license.” You rolled your eyes, frowning. “Like, girl, your sad excuse of a boyfriend is one shove away from an alcoholic coma. Sure. Let him drive. First one who ends up in a ditch loses.”

Hanging up yet another wine glass, Minho snickered, which got you out of your head lightly, making you smile shyly, noticing your phone had turned back on.

But instead of throwing yourself at it head first, you sighed, continuing the story.

“She said I wasn’t needed now.” Your voice felt heavy with pent-up emotions. “That the only cute thing I could bring to the group was my necklace.” Your eyes were teary again, and Minho couldn’t help but scoff, frowning.

“Sounds like a handful.” He mumbled.

“God, yeah,” you passed your hands through your hair, “but the worst was when her boyfriend, drunk as fuck, decided that if she liked my necklace, she should have it.”

His hands stopped, as if someone had pressed pause on him, and Minho promptly left the wine glass on the counter, cloth inside it. 

“He… grabbed the necklace and… and shoved me.” You recalled the motion, taking a hand to your neck, tightening it on a fist, and tensing up your body, as if you had been pushed right then and there before Minho’s eyes. 

“And, well, the thing couldn’t really hold my weight to begin with…” You scratched the back of your head, your hair still damp under your fingertips. “The clasp got loose and… I fell back to the swimming pool.”

“God, you must be freezing, then,” Minho mumbled, the shock passing through his tone, mixed with light worry. 

You dismissed it with a gentle groan and a flick of the wrist, but when he got you another towel, you were quick to settle it over your shoulders. 

“I don’t know if Lix could have left something around here…” 

But you settled your hand over his wrist, smiling. “No, please. You’ve done enough for me already. More than any of my so-called friends to begin with.”

That’s why I should keep doing more. 

It was a thought, just a random idea, something far from being a grand gesture of any kind. Still, the weight of it threatened to tint Minho’s ears a deep shade of red and take his breath away. It was then and only then that he noticed a red scratch on your neck, just a bit over your collarbone.

You could only blink, puzzled, when he didn’t move his arm away from you, but instead leaned forward, slightly over the counter, boring his eyes to your neck. 

“He did this to you?” 

Ah. You were talking. Mmh. Having a conversation, yes. He— god, he was a total stranger. Handsome, sure, whatever. Ok, maybe not exactly whatever, fine. Still. Huh? What had you been thinking?

“I, uh,” you swallowed dry, but it hadn’t been full of awkward tension. Not as much as you had expected. “What… what?” 

Breathless. It was ridiculous! How could a random, gorgeous, beautiful young man from the countryside make you so weak in such little time? It wasn’t normal to fall so easily for anyone, was it?

His eyes stared at yours, and the brown of his calmed your racing heart and fuzzy mind. 

Oh. 

“Um. You have a… t-there’s a… scratch. Red. From, um, the necklace, probably.” 

But neither of you had moved from the closeness that you had just discovered. 

“Is it, eh, bleeding?” 

Minho’s tone matched your own. A whisper, barely loud enough to be called a sound. 

“No. Just a scratch.” 

His eyes —bright and kind, yet guarded— held yours with an intensity that was both unnerving and comforting, whereas Minho felt like he was being seen, really seen, for the first time in a long while. Which was, again, bananas. One hundred per cent bananas. 

Like I said, ridiculous. Odds are that you had spent less than an hour in his space, his kitchen, and now he didn’t find himself yearning for the tranquil buzz of his ears after a loud day. Tonight, he wanted your voice, telling him a story. And he’d love to listen to anything, especially if you didn’t have that sad undertone while you spoke, because when you had giggled, it had reverberated in his space. Not his kitchen, honestly, but his chest, fluttering butterflies fighting inside of him. 

Neither of you spoke, but the silence was no longer awkward. It was filled with something else, something tender and unspoken. You licked your lips, chuckling lightly, and tucked a wet strand of hair behind your ear, a delicate movement that had only seemed to draw him closer, despite the stillness of your bodies.

“I think there are bandaids here somewhere.” He grinned gently, and you watched him, almost mesmerized. “It’s better than nothing.” There was a slight doubt in his mind, but he ended up shoving it away, speaking softly. “I can’t offer you much aside from bandaids and cherries, really.  Let me.” Minho chuckled.

He had to hold back the impulse to bite his lip at your toothy grin. “You have cherries?” 

For you, yes. But instead, he merely smiled, cruising to the counter close to the window, moving the bowl closer to you. 

Plopping a cherry in your mouth, you sighed in contentment. The familiar, almost homey feeling of the explosion of sweetness in your mouth brought you back to the comfort of your own house. You picked a paper napkin from the corner of the windowsill counter, leaving the pits over it. 

“You must really like cherries.” He tongued his cheek, missing your enthusiastic nod, heading to one of the small drawers of the aisle in the kitchen, like a man on a mission, and you snickered, staring at his back as he looked around in the different drawers. But then, he paused, and his shoulders made a weird motion. “Ah, Yongbok…” 

You couldn’t help but frown at him, yet it was obvious that the giggle you let out after he turned back to face you had been totally on purpose. 

“Hello Kitty bandaids?” You relished on the light blush that dusted his cheeks pink, before sparing him. “That’s so cute.”

Minho let out a chuckle that was full of relief. “My little brother. A menace, as you can see.” 

“Mmh, I’m thoroughly terrified.” 

“You don’t say.” 

He snickered, getting out of the kitchen, standing now before you, towering over your sitting figure, even on the bar stool. 

You watched as he skilfully unwrapped the pink and colourful bandaid, lemon-scented hands tenderly pressing the sticky band over the red scratch. 

“There,” Minho mumbled. “You can keep an extra one if you’d like.”

Only in certain moments, he could remember not missing the old clock that used to tick every second, hanging over the backdoor like an impending sign that his time in the kitchen was well past midnight. And that night was not only one more to the list, but most likely its number one addition. Minho loved the feeling that came over him when he stared into your eyes, and that old wooden thing would have ruined everything. 

No old clock. Just two strangers standing in front of each other, on a late August night, inside a closed diner, waiting for something to interrupt what was too early to happen yet. 

There would be other chances, Minho was sure of it. At least a small part of him was, whereas the other debated how stupid he was because he hadn’t asked for your name yet. Nevertheless, the other part of his brain —a much, much funnier one, if you asked for this humble author’s opinion— knew there was time. 

He didn’t need an old clock in the diner, because there would be time on other rainy evenings, when you’d come back from wherever you had been in the day, the lingering scent of rain on you, and he’d melt in your arms, as if that could make the lemon scent stain on you as much as you had stained him. 

Minho would scrunch his nose. 

“You reek of cherries.” 

And you’d smile, guilty as charged, both of you fully aware that you had probably bought and finished a small box of cherries on your way to him. 

“Change that, then.” 

It would only take a playful giggle escape from your cherry-tinted lips for him to grab you in his arms and sit you down, not behind the counter like the night you two had met, and not on the edge of his bed like he had done barely a couple of months after —one could only resist a sweet sweet cherry for so long—, but on top of the recently-cleaned surface, and he’d giggle too, torn between kissing away the day off you as you both simmered in the late, rainy night, protected only by the diner’s roof, or melting in your hold, your hands, slightly cold from being outside running through his hair and scratching his scalp, letting rain, cherries and lemons lull him to sleep. 

He hadn’t seen any of this in your eyes, that first night. But Minho knew deep inside that there was no way in hell he’d let you go without you coming back the next morning.

“I should go.” You grinned, looking down sheepishly. “Thank you for tonight.”

After folding the towels —an excuse to stay just a bit more—, you both parted ways under the rain. 

Were there things left unsaid? Sure. Honestly, it’s why this author keeps adding small bits and pieces between long hyphens. Minho hadn’t told you how he was dying to see you again someday —the sooner the better, if you asked him—. 

And you had just smiled cheekily as you walked away to find your car instead of saying what you had been thinking for a while, Hello Kitty bandaid in hand —that would surely end up stuck to the wall of your room—. 

It wasn’t your name, as some of you might be thinking. You had scribbled that on another napkin when he wasn’t looking. No, it was something even better. 

See you tomorrow.

[🔺 ★ 🍒 ★ 🔺]

kats, who is craving not cherries but a late-night, lemon-scented minho for herself to cuddle to sleep.

catiuskaa, august 2024 ©

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[softlypaintedseafoam]

orpheus

synopsis. he looked back.

pairing. portgas d. ace x f!reader (afab)

word count. 7.1k | masterlist

content warning. marineford/post-war arc spoilers, reader is coded black (written ambiguously. anyone can read), character study, childhood friends to lovers, open-ended

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

my premiere fic on this acc! as someone who was watching op back when it aired on 4kids, ace has been my favorite character for over a decade. so come to my inbox and let's talk about how much we love him! the 'poem' the reader recites is actually a quote from this short film you should definitely watch

Dadan is doing your hair before bed when you learn of this story.

The night is late on Mt. Corvo, baths taken and house cleaned after the chaos of dinner. Much too late for you to trek down to your home in Windmill Village, ensuring that for the fifth night in the row you'd be spending the night at your friends' house. ("You're going home tomorrow," Dadan insisted, hands on her hips sternly. "This a base for bandits, not a daycare!")

The one who mentions the story is Leif.

The man is a strange case among Dadan's brood with his glasses and delicate mannerisms. Someone who seems like he should be a normal person in society rather a bandit. Perhaps that's what makes him so useful to Dadan's team; he looks like a normal person. He seldom swears, seldom drinks himself tired. Most evenings, like now, it isn't strange to see him reading a book in the living room among his friends by the window. Suddenly, he shudders, setting his book aside and closing the window firmly with a click of his tongue. "Orpheus must have looked at Eurydice," he mutters.

"Who- hey!" Luffy cries belligerently when the brief moment of distraction leads to Sabo smacking his hands. They're playing some sort of hand game where you're supposed to move your hands before your opponent hits them. 'Reflex training' Ace called it. "No fair!"

Sabo grins with a victorious laugh, ignoring Luffy's demands for a rematch. "You snooze you lose, Luffy!"

Ace's expression is just as smug, "your reflexes suck."

Amusing as their antics are, you wave an arm to regain Leif's attention. "Who's Orpheus and Eurydice?"

"Ohoho," Leif perks up, pleased. "They're characters from an old story."

Luffy cocks his head, "how old?"

"Older than Dadan probably," Sabo surmises without a second thought.

"Brat," Dadan seethes under her breath. She turns your head to an angle, beginning the first of your french breads.

Eyes wide with intrigue, you lean forward eagerly before Dadan's grip on your hair reminds you your actions are limited. Dadan picks carefully through the accumulated naps and tangles. The woman's only solace is that you're not tender-headed. You can't afford to be when most of your daytime activities lead to your hair being filled with sticks and leaves. ("What on earth are you brats doing for your hair to get like this?" You and Luffy share a look, snickering mischievously. It's no secret to anyone in this house that the woman's exasperation is worse than her bite.) "I wanna hear the story!"

Leif is more than happy to recount the tale of two lovers.

You liken the story to the life and death of spring.

The new life of spring is in their love as their dance causes petal after petal to bloom in the wake of their steps. But spring's death is in Orpheus’ turn and the sorrow that follows. In that stillness of spring that one seldom notices.

Orpheus’ delight in seeing the sun.

Eurydice's stumble.

Her silence.

Maybe he thinks he’s been tricked.

Regardless the variety of the tale, it all ends the same Leif tells you gravely. Dramatically, as if singing a song. Orpheus looks back and his beloved disappears.

The death of spring itself.

It's the most beautiful story you've ever heard.

"Well that's dumb," Ace crosses his arms, thoroughly unimpressed. "The exit was right there. He couldn't wait five minutes?" It doesn't take long for Luffy to agree with the eldest of his brothers, arms crossed with a matching expression.

Sabo rests a hand on his chin thoughtfully, "and if he heard her stumble in one version, he should have known she was actually there and not a trick."

Ericht, a hardy man with a throaty voice chuckles, raising a tankard at the boys' words. "See, Leif? Even the kids think it's ridiculous!"

"I don't think it's dumb," it's hard to be taken seriously when your head is at 45 degree angle, however. "It's sad and pretty."

"At least one of you lot have taste," Leif huffs, index finger raised indignantly to the air. "The rest of you are completely missing the point! It’s human nature to look! That’s what makes the story beautiful! It’s human to love. Love is why Orpheus looks back. He wants to tell Eurydice the sun is right around the corner! He’s worried for her safety. He’s afraid he’s been tricked-”

Luffy stands firmly, hand resting on his puffed out chest, "I wouldn't have looked back!"

"Me neither!" Ericht proclaims.

"Hear, hear!"

A clank of mugs and a chorus of cheers ensue and his audience is lost. Leif plops down beside yourself and Dadan in annoyed defeat. "This is what happens when you try to bring classics to criminals."

"You're a criminal," Dadan reminds the man with a snort.

It's a comment that causes the mild bandit to laugh. "I suppose you have a point there," he chortles. Moments like this makes you wonder once more why he turned to crime instead of academics. In another life, perhaps Leif becomes a teacher. Leif gives you with a small smile, sparing a glance the rest in the room. "They would have looked," he says just quiet enough for you to hear and you giggle as if you've been told a funny secret.

The rest of the night is uneventful as Dadan finishes your hair. She rushes the four of you to bed as soon as possible and even then, you rowdily have one final round of sparring before settling down. (At least Luffy doesn't fall through the floorboards this time!) Sleep doesn't find you as easily, your mind full as Sabo and Luffy snore around you. Turning onto your side, you stare at Ace's back.

"Ace," your whisper is just barely audible over the cacophony of sleep. "You awake?"

There's enough beat of silence before Ace shuffles, turning around to face you. You blink, unsure if its surprise you feel or otherwise. You'd suspected he hadn't been sleeping when you noticed how quiet he'd been. Yet you're taken aback he turned around anyway. It's strange. “What?”

"Would you look back if you were Orpheus?"

"That story again?" Ace whispers incredulously. You don't need a light to know his brow is furrowed in disbelief.

"I feel bad for Orpheus," you murmur as you recall Leif's words. It was a beautiful story as much as it was sad. "He just wanted to be with his wife again and now he can't ever be with her again." It's human nature to look, Leif said. It's human to love. It's what makes the story beautiful. With more quiet than noise in the room, it's not as easy seeing the beauty. But I can, you squeeze your hand into a tiny ball in quick protest. Apparently it is also human to be contradictory. I think I can see the beauty. Maybe the beauty is what makes it so sad.

There's a brief sigh that leaves the boy and you wonder if he's annoyed until he asks, "well would you look?"

The dance of spring. The death of it in Orpheus' turn.

If it was Ace or Sabo or Luffy behind me…

When you look behind you to see how far away Luffy is.

When Sabo swallows his saliva the wrong way and coughs.

The moments where Ace falls quiet and suddenly, even if he is with you and his brothers, he looks like the loneliest boy in the world.

You look back every time.

"Yeah," you curl into yourself into a small ball. A sigh escapes your lips in your admittance. "I guess we'd never see each other again, huh?"

You half-expect Ace to balk at your words. 'Why am I Eurydice, huh? I'm a guy!' Instead he's quiet and you wish you could see his face so you can try and guess what he's thinking. It's when Ace is quiet when he's the hardest to read. "Well," Ace proposes after a moment. "Maybe Hades'll be nice and Orpheus can try again some day. That time he won't mess up." He pauses, scratching the side of his head. "So stop being all sad about it."

A warmth settles in your chest at his clumsiness. "Yeah."

A particularly loud snore from Luffy makes you both snort silently. You hope the bright-hearted boy never changes. Once your amusement subsides, you yawn. "You never answered my question though," you yawn once again. Sleep will be upon you soon. "Would you look back too?"

"No, dummy," Ace replies without a second thought.

Your cheeks puff into a petulant pout, "Leif said looking is what makes us human."

There's another beat of silence.

"Maybe I'm not human then," it's a reply void of Ace's typical cocksure and defiant attitude. There's a shuffle and Ace turns around, his back facing you once more. "Night."

"… Night."

The next day, life continues as it always does. If anything, this nest of thieves in the mountains is as much a home to you as it is for the actual residents. A stray shoe of yours there, a few shirts that belong to you there. Even the rituals of the morning are your own, rushing out of the house before Dadan can wrangle your band into chores.

Hunting for your own breakfast with steel pipes and vinegar and a healthy dose of throttling thugs for your pirate savings.

Ace and Sabo with wide smiles, making sure Luffy and his tiny legs are keeping up.

Ace huffing when you trip and fall on your face, reaching out a hand for you to grab regardless of his gripes.

Orpheus and Eurydice aren't far from your thoughts.

"What are you smiling about," Ace raises an eyebrow as he tugs you onto your feet.

"Nothing," you laugh airily in return. You're human.

Ace looks back at you again another time, more concerned than his grouchiness let's on as he grumbles you're not talking as much as you always do. It's rich coming from the guy who constantly complained you talked to much your face when you were first getting to know him. "It's better when you don't shut up than when you're quiet," he barks when you point this out. "It's weird."

(You're human.)

The island is covered in snow the day you decide you'd join Ace's crew after months of indecision. Your vision of freedom is different from your friends'; you don't want to be a captain of your own crew. You don't want the worries of having to lead. So, the boys decide, you have to join one of theirs. It's hard picking between your friends. That indecision goes out the window the day you meet Old Man Naguri and you listen to his tales about his battle against Roger for all of until whenever you notice Ace leaving quietly.

"Ace," he turns around, surprised at your sudden appearance. He must have been deep in his thoughts if he didn't hear the snow crunching underfoot. "Are you okay? It's okay if you were scared of Naguri's story." Although the man had told it warmly ー fondly, even ー it's a haunting thought that they were defeated so easily when the older man was so strong.

Despite your attempts to comfort him, Ace is quick to shut down that train of thought immediately. "I wasn't scared," he retorts. "I just don't feel like hearing stories about Roger." He doesn't expand on his reasons and you decide not to ask. You only one the look on his face ー the lonely one ー to leave him. You never want to see him make that face ever again.

So you change the topic; ask him if he thinks Naguri's old crewmates would ever want to sail the seas together again as you walk back to your secret base. "I dunno," the dark-haired boy shrugs. The freckles on his face almost seem like snowflakes in the surrounding weather. "Probably not," he decides with a grumble. "Their adventures are over now so what's the point in staying together at that point?"

It crosses your mind not for the first time that Ace is the most independent kid you know. Maybe one of the loneliest. Even if it's different, you understand the feeling. You were the weird one in your group of friends in Windmill Village. The one too loud and too strange, lost in daydreams and content to play all the roles yourself if it came down to it. The kid with animal bones and dead flowers mixed into your collection along with seashells and stones. You couldn't curb those interests.

Not for any lack of trying, however.

You did try.

You just couldn't. You tried talking less, you tried being normal but you inevitably would open your mouth and your oddities rolled off as naturally as breathing.

No one on Mt. Corvo is normal, however. That's what makes you fit in. Ace's problem, whatever it is, doesn't seem like it's the same.

"Well I'd stay with you," you tell him earnestly; vehemently. It isn't enough to say it if Ace doesn't believe you. "Even if the adventure's over too. You're my friend." The adventures could be over and there could be no more treasures left to find but you'd still stay with him. "We can find another journey to go on after the first one and another one after that. And even we don't have anymore to go on, I'll still stay with you! Then you won't be alone when the journey's over because I'll still be there."

There's a pause, a blink and Ace lets out a sound of surprise. "But you said you didn't want to ch-"

"I'm choosing your crew right now, duh!" You rest your hands on your hips, nose pointed in the air. "Got it, Captain Ace?"

Ace's cheeks are cherry red from the cold but his usual frown shifts into a something as bright as the sun. "Fine, but I'll be a strict captain, you know!"

We're all Orpheus, you kick up snow with wide footsteps while you and Ace excitedly discuss all the things that would be on your ship. All the places you should go on your ship. It's because we're human. You think as much as your hands brush against one another, cold and warm at the same time.

You think as much when you both turn to Sabo and Luffy loudly returning home with a-

"Oh, hey guys! I didn't know that you were home!"

"Oh, Ace! I didn't know that your father was Roger!"

A look akin to horror blossoms across Ace's face as he looks back at you at break neck speed.

(You're human.

You knew Ace was human all the times he looked back at you before. You still know he is human when he meekly asks one week later if you still want to be part of his crew. It's the smallest you've ever seen him and the most uncertain.

"You're stuck with me forever, you dummy!")

𖤓

Orpheus and his dilemma doesn't return to the forefront of your mind again until the Burning of the Gray Terminal. You hug your knees to your chest, pressed against Ace firmly now that it's over. He doesn't make to push you away, nor does he call you a 'baby' despite how quick he was to disparage Luffy and his tears earlier.

You can still hear the fire roaring in your ears; the smoke thick, darkening the sky and Bluejam holding you at gunpoint. Sabo was gone, taken by his noble family and far from the chaos unfolding in the slums of the Goa Kingdom.

For the first time in your young life, you understood what hell on earth looked like.

The screams of the helpless drowned out in fire; a mysterious power knocking all but Bluejam himself unconscious. You were never one for believing in gods but Dadan and her band's intervention was nothing short of a miracle. Still fear had gripped you in your entirety, draped over Ericht's shoulder, when you saw Ace wasn't running behind you guys.

"I'll never run away," he proclaimed, defiant as ever. The sparks surrounding you look as if they were stars leaping from his body. A display that, in any other situation, would have looked breathtaking. He was that boy ー your boy ー in the fire. Your boy who never turned around, not even when Dadan went to stay with him.

Look back, You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream it for the whole world to hear. Look back!

He didn't.

You didn't see them again until over a week has passed and the belief they'd been reduced to nothing but ash nearly took hold of you.

You never want to experience anything like that again.

You're sure you'll love Dadan for the rest of your life. Her skin is wrapped nearly head to toe in bandages and the burnt ends of her coily hair will need to be cut off. Still she's alive. You'll take Dadan bandaged and bruised over any other possibility. She speaks for all of you when she wearily asks Ace, "why didn't you run away?"

The answer isn't immediate as Ace mulls over his answer. You're too tired to press him to hurry in divulging his secrets. "Sometimes, I get so angry," the boy begins gingerly. Tenderly, as if he doesn't want to touch a bruise too firmly. "And I feel like if I run away, I'll lose something I could never get back. And this time, Luffy and," he trails off unexpectedly. Your head dips as he shifts to scratch his head, one of his tics. "They were behind me. I don't know why but that's probably the reason."

They're words that make your lips tremble. "It's 'cause you're human," you mumble, exhausted. "You're human. Like Orpheus." You close your eyes, ready to drift asleep on Ace's shoulder. You won't cry; you've cried enough to last a lifetime. "Being Orpheus is scary."

Dadan sighs testily, "that old story again?" Her words are more amused than disgruntled. "Leif, quit teaching weird stuff to the kids."

"They're taking after my love of the classics," Leif sniffs wetly. "There's nothing weird about it at all. She's right," it must be a vindicating feeling for the both of you. "It is scary to be Orpheus."

Maybe it's why Ace didn't look back. You press into his shoulder more firmly. "You don't have to be scared next time, I'll be there too." I'll protect you.

"I wasn't scared," he protests, resting his head atop yours. "You were the scared one." There are no arguments to be had there.

(It's a few hours later Dogra comes home, news pertaining to Sabo freezing your blood.

You never see the boy with the missing tooth again.)

𖤓

You leave Dawn Island when you're 17 on a small boat sturdy enough to get you and Ace by until you get your actual ship. You're pirate savings are long gone. "What pirates having savings anyway," you said when you remembered the silly notion you had as children. "We were so dumb for that!"

That's right, we were kids.

Kids who, for the longest time, could only talk hypotheticals about your ship and your adventures. That precious promise of the forever beyond journey's end. Now you're finally on the sea, you inhale in shaky belief at the long stretch of blue surrounding the two of you. We're finally doing this.

You run your hand over the water's surface, admiring how it feels silky to the touch. The distant cries of seagulls in your ear and the briny smell of the sea breeze in the air. You sure that you're going to blink and suddenly you be back in the boys' room, groggily staring at the ceiling in puddle of your own sweat as Ace and Luffy hold you tightly. Their snores sound vaguely enough like seagulls that they could be tricking you into thinking you're sailing right now.

It's spring, you breathe.

"Where to now, first mate?" Ace's voice pulls you from thoughts and you see him smiling. Frowns are no longer commonplace on his face anymore. It suits him as much as the sun shining down on him does. A sun child, that's what you are.

"Wherever the wind takes us, captain," you salute before breaking into a laugh. You aren't sure what to do with all the giddiness swelling in your person.

Ace matches your energy tit for tat, tugging the sail in the direction the wind. "Then off we go to uncharted waters!" You whoop excitedly, water droplets following your hands as you raise your arms.

You initially think it rotten luck you shipwreck on Sixis a few weeks into your journey, following legends of bountiful treasures. After acquiring Deuce and Ace eating the Flame-Flame Fruit to boot, you're more inclined to say fate works in mysterious ways.

Deuce is nice; you like Deuce.

The start to your friendship may have been rocky with his comments about Roger's son ー as well as you subsequently throwing your shoe at the back of his head ー but things ultimately had been smoothed over. It's hard to tell there'd been any foul feelings before, at least on Deuce's part. Not with how Ace throws his arm around Deuce's shoulders as he cheerily recounts a story about Luffy for the millionth time.

It's sweet.

It makes your stomach churn uncomfortably.

You groan, palming your forehead. I'm jealous. This is so stupid. It isn't even like we're not best friends anymore. You know that is fact. It's the 'whys' behind your jealousy that you don't understand.

The Spade Pirates have grown considerably since it was just you and Ace in a rickety boat. There's Deuce, Cornelia, Pinnacle, there's even a lynx in your crew. All of whom who joined this crew because they liked Ace. Most of them liked him almost immediately; it's darling in how effortlessly he does it. There is no effort, you realize not for the first time.

Even when you were 10 and Ace found more reasons to try and keep you at arm's length, you liked him. You always wanted to be his friend; it's something you and Luffy have always had in common. Your old friends in Windmill Village were unable to see your vision, however.

In hindsight, it's objectively not hard to see why.

Ace had been an angry, belligerent child with a harsh mouth. The Ace on the deck before you is practically a different entity entirely. Polite, gentle and extroverted. It's hard believing how easy making friends comes to him now when before the only friends he was able to gain were you, Luffy and Sabo. Which it is why it's so great Ace has so many now, truly. Truly.

This is what you wanted, isn't it? You've always wanted this ever since you were able to further understand Ace's complexities.

You are happy. As such, you're unable to grasp why you feel so gross. No, you sigh. That's a lie. I do know why. You're not Ace's only confidant anymore. He'll still go to you when he needs you, of course. It's just that you're no longer the immediate choice. It's simply a period of adjustment. You hold back a huff but Wallace, your friend in the crow's nest, is quick to notice your mood.

"Everything alright over there, partner." It's not truly a question; you can tell by the lack of rising intonation. It's a prod.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you tell the fishman offhandedly. "Just thinking."

"Oh no," Wallace grins wickedly, dark eyes dancing mirthfully. Even if he worries, Wallace seldom pushes if you really don't want to talk about it. It's his best trait after his humor. "Sounds like we're in trouble."

"Oh shut up," you hiss playfully, giving him a light shove. "See if I haggle for you again the next time we go to a market." Despite your sharp words, you're both laughing. From the corner of your eye, you see a flash of black turn around into tan and freckled flesh. You ignore wishful(?) thinking in favor of reality. You're not Ace's number 1 confidant anymore and that's alright. It's an awkward feeling having to share the role with someone else after so many years in that best friend role.

It'll pass; it'll pass.

𖤓

You realize you've been in love with Ace for the better part of your life one year later after the Spadille washes up on the shores of Amigasa Village. The entire affair is an ugly thing. Tears at the weight of your emotions; tears from realizing how much weight you were carrying in your heart to begin with.

What's worse is there's no grandeur in what causes your awakening.

It came to you slowly then all at once watching your oldest friend, snoring into a bowl of tororo soba. His face was a mess, flecks of tororo smeared on his face while the locals panicked assuming he had died mid-meal.

I love you, you chuckled silently, chin propped on your palm.

Then you blinked and everything else hit you like a surge of conqueror's haki.

"How could I be so blind and stupid," you screamed into your hands, Wallace patting your back all the while. Even being around Ace was a struggle. I told him I needed to go and forage mushrooms when he asked if I wanted to learn how to weave kasas with him. Mushrooms that even locals barely were able to find themselves. It wasn't your smartest attempt to process your emotions alone and far away from the cantankerous heartbeats Ace caused. "Was it obvious? Tell me it wasn't obvious!"

"I mean," Wallace's strained, sharp-toothed smile offered zero comfort. "It isn't to Ace?"

"Kill me."

"Hey, the hard part's over now," the weedy stingfish fishman shrugged. "It isn't like it isn't reciprocated."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumbled.

"You know Ace is in love with you, right?"

"Wallace."

"He is, though! Not that he's noticed but- come on, now," Wallace's tone was pressing, as if he was stating a long known truth. "You have to have noticed you're special to him, right?"

'Because I'm his oldest friend,' you wanted to say. Somehow you knew it wasn't an answer Wallace would accept.

It was a trying five days of woes and sorrows; scouring your memories.

(You can pinpoint the exact day you fell in love with Portgas D. Ace.

A day only a few months after Sabo's death and Luffy's inability to even begin the process of healing from it. When he begged Ace on that windswept cliff not to die to which Ace vehemently declared that he wouldn't.

In that moment, Ace was sparkling.)

By day five, you've gone through most of the five stages of grief. In all honesty it felt like you'd gone through ten, you truthfully believe as you recuperate by the shore.

There's not another place in the world as healing as the sea at sunset. In a world of power holders and haki, it's almost an impossible magic to perceive. How the sky becomes shades of indigo and vermilion and the sea becomes wine-dark. You close your eyes, breathing deeply as you lean your head back as if in meditation.

It's hard to tell what you notice first ー the crushed sand or the rise in heat behind you. You whip your head over your shoulder, a motion practically second nature.

"What are you sneaking around for," you smile lightly as Ace winces, brow furrowed, like he's been caught doing something wrong. His fidgeting is almost secondary to how he looks in the light of the setting sun.. It's a good look on Portgas D. Ace even before he adopted his gentle demeanor. For a second, you feel like Orpheus when he sees the light and turns, forgetting he wasn't supposed to gaze at his beloved until after they'd left Hades' domain. How Eurydice looked in his memory when bathed in its light. I get it, your eyes feel hot looking at the boy turned man behind you. I get why you looked.

"Mind if I join you," comes a hesitant reply, Ace.

"Since when do you ever have to ask to do that?" Nonplussed, you tap your fingers against the sand. He waits, as if gathering his bearings, before gingerly taking a seat to your left. Your heart flutters as your knees brush against each other and you wonder if this reaction has always been present. If you've merely been blind to it. "Your shadow isn't with you."

"Tama?" You raise your eyebrows with a questioning smirk as if to say 'who else would I be talking about?' A light chuckle falls from Ace's lips. The young girl had been attached to Ace's hip ever since you washed up on the shore. "Yeah, she's a sweet kid. But Kotatsu stole her away from me. Cats always win over over people at the end of the day."

"Tragic," your chuckle as you picture the yellow lynx allowing the girl to sleep atop him as he purrs and purrs. The thought inspires memories of Luffy, clinging to your person even as you try rolling out of the sleeping boy's grip. "Tama's lucky. It took me and Luffy three months before you could start tolerating us. It took her basically nothing."

"Aaah," Ace makes a sheepish sound at the reminder. If it were up to him, he'd be more than happy to pretend that weren't the case. In fact, that part of your knowing each other always fails to be brought up in Ace's many, many stories about Luffy and your childhood. "That… is something I don't rightly remember," he coughs out at last. "Maybe you're remembering wrong."

"Oh am I now," you snort, equal parts incredulous and entertained.

Ace nods, black tresses dancing with the movement. "Pretty sure. We've always gotten along."

"Luffy told me you punted him off a bridge his first day at Dadan's."

"I-"

"There was also that time you basically threw boulders at us for following you."

"That-that was-"

"And I'm pretty sure-"

"Okay, okay, I was a brat!" Ace throws his arms in the air, you guffawing all the while. "Stop reminding me!"

"What's funnier was your first etiquette lesson with Makino! I half expected you to call Red-Haired Shanks a bastard when we met him last month!"

Ace groans your name in embarrassment, face in his hands and the tips of his ears blazing red. Resting your arms on your knees, you lean forward against your chest in. Sitting there on the beach, ocean singing in the background, you could almost delude yourself into thinking you're the only people in the world. There is no Amigasa Village, no World Government and no concepts like Emperors and government-sanctioned pirates.

It's simply you and Ace.

What was I panicking about so much before? Watching Ace settle into himself, stardust dotting his skin and wavy hair moving in the breeze only cements the feeling. I love you; so much.

Enough that you'd traverse the realms beyond to bring him home.

Enough that you'd damn yourself right when victory is on the horizon.

And that's okay.

"What are you thinking about," brown eyes glance in your direction, lips twisted into a suspicious pout.

"Nothin'," you reply petulantly. I'll tell you one day, you vow silently. Once I get used to it. I've spent the better part of my life being in love with you without knowing. I wanna enjoy it now that I do. Treasure it like you're holding something precious because you are. "What are you thinking about?"

His eyes dart away following your question, Ace opening and closing his mouth a beat after. You shuffle your feet, shifting back and forth between the tips of your toes and your heels. Remembering your odd behavior the past few days, you don't doubt it is at the forefront of his mind. "... are you mad at me?"

You make a sound of bewilderment, leaning back and brow furrowed. "No? Where did that even come from?

"Sorry that isn't-," Ace stumbles over his next words. "It wasn't what I meant to- I just meant I knew something is bothering you but I didn't know how to bring it up but I know you talked to Wallace and I didn't want to come off as nosy or... I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Ace breathes, the deluge of words slowing down. "I'm always here to talk. But if you don't that's okay too. I just don't... It felt like… maybe you were avoiding me or something." He is mumbling by the time he finishes, abashed, after thoroughly exposing all of his cards.

Oh, I definitely was doing that. It will be a a cold day in hell before you admit that, however. Ace would only feel worse.

"I know how it must've looked but I promise that was just me making a bigger deal out of something than it actually was." Wallace will certainly agree with that sentiment. You can only imagine how he must have felt watching you be so obviously smitten. "But it wasn't you! It was just me! I didn't want to worry you and I was getting in my head and well, Wallace just kinda happened to be right there and well... it kinda just got word vomited onto him. Otherwise, I would have kept stuff to myself."

Ace rasps the back of his hand against your arm, "you're sure you're okay?"

You know Ace is in love with you, right?

"Yeah," you press yourself into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm good. I just had to freak out about it, I think. Everything's perfect." Nice isn't enough to describe how it feels, being enveloped in the warmth that flows from his body. I could die like this, you remember a poem Leif recited a long time ago. Softly; peacefully. In the middle of a dream.

𖤓

"Gimme my props."

The only response you have to your sing-song demand is a playful groan.

You nudge into Ace's arm with your whole body, "come on, flame boy! My props!"

The night is young on the seas, the Moby Dick alight with drink and song. Pirates never miss a reason to party, Ace becoming the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates is no different. He deserves the position more than anybody, in your extremely biased opinion. He's more than earned it and you're happy to see him accept it, even if it was with an uneven stride.

"Ace, we're on the ship of the world's most tolerant pirate," you told him the night before when the two of you sat alone in one of the crows nests. "If you trying to kill him a hundred times didn't get you kicked out, I don't think Roger being the cherry on top is going to do anything either."

"You don't know that," he replied quietly, shoulders to his ears. It was like you were children again and he was so sure you'd take back your promise. As if him being Roger's son would be a dealbreaker. Ace could have been the son of the devil himself and you'd still have kept your promise.

"I don't," you agreed promptly. Still, you knew Whitebeard's character. He was the father to an entire fleet of vagabonds and rejects; what was one more with a large secret?

"And what if you're wrong?"

"Well, first as your friend I would tell you that you really picked the wrong tattoo," you grinned at his snort, watching as he failed to keep his lips from curving upwards. You raise your right hand, showing off your own, smaller Whitebeard jolly roger on your inner forearm. "Alright, alright, I'll say we both picked the wrong tattoo. And that we really fucked ourselves over burning down the Spadille." The ship was long gone now, only existing in your memories. "So assuming we have to battle our way dramatically off the Mobyー we'll jump on the Striker, head to the closest island to get some cover ups and we'll start over," you wink and Ace's eyes softened, looking as if he was staring through you. "But I doubt things will go that route and I look forward to you telling me I was right."

"Okay," Ace drapes himself over you, pulling your back into his chest. You squeal as rough fingers tickle your sides. "You were right so be humble about it!" Perfect. Ace is absolutely perfect.

"Stop it already! I'll be humble!" It doesn't take much time for the tickles to stop with your ceding, Ace's arms lying lazily across your stomach. In the far distance ー as distant as distant can be on a ship so ginormous ー Binks' Sake is being sung on loop with Jozu and Haruta particularly off-key. There's something comforting in how terrible they sound, you giggle softly. "Hey," you press your back further into his chest. "I love you."

"Yeah, I love you too," Ace snickers, lips curled into a lazy half-smile. There's no deep pondering at all behind those eyes. No inclination to look deeper into your words.

Not quite, you brace yourself with a quick in-breath. "No; Ace," while not enough to pull yourself out of his hold, you lean forward enough to look over your shoulder with ease. "I love you."

There's a pause.

Panic then flashes across his face, nothing but a grunt of shock escaping his ajar mouth. You stumble at how quickly Ace is to separate from you, attempting to make his exit to Oden knows where before you grab one of his hands.

"Ace," you squeeze his hand delicately as he stands completely still, face buried in the hand he has left. "Ace," you call again and Ace looks back at you ー truly looks back at you, brow furrowed and eyes wet with conflict. "I'm in love with you. You and no one else. You, Portgas D. Ace, and you can't run away from that. And," your throat clenches. "I want you to admit that you're in love with me too."

"You shouldn't-"

"Do you love me?"

A choked sound escapes him, "you can't-"

"I can and I do," you interrupt him belligerently, both your hands wrapped his tightly. Like he's begging you to end this torment for something he can't have; that you shouldn't want. That maybe he never wanted to know he wanted in the first place. "I'm in love with you. You don't have to love me back just don't," the breath you release is shaky. "Don't run away from it. Don't run away from how you feel about me."

You know Ace is in love with, right?

"You're in love with me," you ask with a falsetto pitch, face warm and throat tight. It takes more strength than you're prepared to admit to tug Ace into facing you directly. It takes more strength than you're prepared to admit to hold his gaze. "Aren't you?"

"I," he starts, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. It's a steadying process of half-formed words, stumbles and shaking shoulders. A steadying process of deep breaths. "Of course I love you," he chokes at last. "I've always… always," it's enough for you, those words. More than enough; you can tell from how Ace's figure suddenly becomes unclear. Whatever else he wants to tell you can wait for later when he's able to say them.

Finally, something you in whispers. Finally.

"Can we kiss?" The two of you can't help laughing at your own words. It's a clumsy affection, unsure what to do with itself. You look forward to figuring it out together. We have forever, after all. It's what you promised one, long winter ago.

"Yeah," Ace nods with a sniff. You wonder if he's remembering the same winter. His smile tells you he is. "We can kiss," the first of many, chaste with the underlying taste of salt. Warm and yours; your personal spring in the sea.

𖤓

For the second time in your life, you're seeing hell on earth.

You're battered, bruised and the ground is littered with more corpses than you can count; pirate and marine alike. Your blood roars through your ears, your breath just as loud. Breath after breath, stride after stride.

The scent of death, fire and everything in between is cloyingly thick but it doesn't matter.

None of it matters.

Ace is safe; alive.

The Moby is gone and Pops will soon be another memory along with it you acknowledge sorrowfully as you leave the strongest man in the world behind.

You'll grieve later, you decide. When you're far from Marineford, far from Garp who'll never choose his grandsons no matter the cost and far from the people who nearly took your beloved from you.

We're almost there, you pant. We're almost there, the edge of marine headquarters so close you can almost taste the sea salt.

It's surprisingly easy to pick out the sound of Ace's shoes and Luffy's sandals drumming against the pavement.

Your boys are fine, your boys are well, your boys are alive.

You'll cry all you want after you make it back to the ship.

"Well your captain is that guy so you can't help it, can you," Akainu's voice is velvet smooth. Too calm in the chaos but still so loud. "Whitebeard is just a loser from the old times, isn't he?"

Ace's footsteps come to an abrupt halt, "loser?" Why is he stopping?

"Ace," Luffy cries out, just as confused.

It's strange how Orpheus comes to mind as you nearly fall over in your attempt to stop running. Your lungs burn white-hot from exhaustion, only seeing the purple and white of Ace's tattoo. Your body stopping doesn't feel like your own, like an out of body experience.

This whole war feels like you're one of the thousands of civilians watching the broadcast from all parts of the world. All watching with bated breath to see who will claim victory; watching to see how the season will change.

You feel like your that little girl again, confined to Dadan's work on your hair as Leif tells you the most beautiful story you've ever heard.

It's new life of spring when it was all Luffy could do to cry out joyfully Ace's name, the flames of his now unextinguished powers on fully display. The chill of late winter still clings to the season with how Whitebeard has to be left behind. The stillness of spring that one seldom notices.

Orpheus’ delight in seeing the sun.

Eurydice's stumble.

Her silence.

Maybe he thinks he’s been tricked.

Regardless the variety of the tale, it all ends the same Leif told you gravely.

He looked back.

[atinystraynstay]

Play Nicely - Lee Chan

Synopsis: "I got a preview of what it would be like not to be yours, and I hated it so much."

Pairing: Idol! Dino x fem reader

Genre: PG-13 - slight angst, slightttttt smutttt if you squint, jealousy ft. The8, established relationship, possession

Word Count: 2.1k

Dino wasn't used to sitting on the dance floor, being in charge of the music. He was normally the one in front of the mirror, learning the choreography. This time around though, Dino had to take the backseat in order for Minghao to practice the choreography for his upcoming music video.

He was in the midst of preparing for his newest solo single. It was a bit sexier of a concept compared to Hai Cheng released last year. This time around, it had a heavy influence compared to the group's Light A Flame number. Minghao wanted to step out of his comfort zone, to show off his full range of dancing capabilities especially now that his collarbone has fully healed.

Being the good friend that you are, you volunteered to help Minghao with the choreography. By no means were you a professional like the rest of the group, or really like any extra the company could have hired. However, you wanted to take a challenge. You've always been curious about the world of dance, especially after watching Dino command the stage with his capabilities.

Minghao was ecstatic about the opportunity. Not only because he could take his time since you were helping as a friend, but he felt more comfortable doing the dance with someone he knew. This style of dance was newer to him as a solo performer, so being able to do it without feeling like he was going to waste someone's time really benefitted his learning process.

Dino was also very blessed to see you step up to help one of his friends. The maknae was a bit hesitant to introduce you to his friend group. He knew his members could be intimidating but also knew he was often subject to most of the teasing. Not always, but most of it when Mingyu was MIA. He just didn't want to give them anymore ammunition or have you dragged into it.

It brought him great joy to see how easily you were accepted by the group. Sure, there was some teasing here and there. However, his 12 brothers were just pleased to see their youngest happy. That is all they wanted for him anyway.

You were wearing a blank tank top, your hair pulled back into a high ponytail. You were also wearing a pair of black leggings. Your facial expression showed you were relaxed. Maybe the two of you should take dance classes together? He was intrigued by the opportunity to see you dance, wondering what you were capable of.

"I'm just afraid of making a fool out of myself," Minghao explained. He ran his hand through his hair as he stood before you.

Being the comforting friend that you, you placed your hands on Minghao's shoulders. Staring into his eyes, you smiled gently. "You're not going to make a fool of yourself. You're one of the best dancers I know, Hao. We'll practice for however long you need so you can feel confident." Minghao smiled at you, nodding at your words

While Dino knew the interaction was innocent, he couldn't help but feel the sting in his heart. One of the best dancers you knew? What about him? He bit his lip as he stood up straighter. He could out dance Minghao if given the chance.

The rehearsal started lighthearted. Minghao was showing you the basic dance moves and keeping enough distance, so you could learn through trial and error. The three of you would laugh at the moments of awkwardness. it helped you feel at ease to be out of your element. It was such a lighthearted environment.

"Why don't we try it this time with the music? I think you got the basics of the dance down now, y/n!" "I can also pause it if you need to go over the steps again," Dino reminded.

You looked excited to try it with the music, and Dino and Minghao wanted to help you keep that enthusiasm. They were honestly grateful you were willing to help out, but wanted to keep it fun for you as this was a new experience.

However, once the music began to play, the mood shifted. it went from innocent and playful to seductive and intense. The track was a bit deeper than Seventeen's more lighthearted, poppy sounds they've been doing over the past few months. Quite frankly, it screamed sex appeal.

Dino has never wanted so desperately to pause the music, pause the intensity between the two of you. But he didn't want to be selfish.

Realizing where he was, he let out a sharp breath through his nostrils. He did his best to compose himself, not wanting to make a scene especially when he was with you and one of his best friends. He had to control himself. Neither of you were doing anything malicious, nor would you ever. You loved Dino too much to ever do something so careless whereas Minghao had too much respect for your relationship and the two of you as people.

Dino was just starting to realize maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

His blood boiled as Minghao's eyes were trained on you. You were able to capture the attention of everyone in the room. And honestly, Dino loved watching you thrive and flourish in anything you did. You could just be cooking up lunch for the two of you, and he was always left speechless.

Internally, he knew he should be grateful that his best friend was looking out for you. You meant the world to each member, especially since they knew how happy you made their maknae. And Minghao was doing everything he could to make sure you didn't get hurt while dancing.

It just wasn't far that Minghao got to be this close to you when that's all Dino was craving. He was craving the feeling of your body heat against his. He wanted to stare into your eyes until the world stopped spinning. And honestly, he wanted to be the first and only dance partner you had.

As the song played, Dino's jealousy just grew. Minghao guided you in where to place your hands, how to move your hips. It made Dino's mind fuzzy as he remembered all the things your body was capable of, how good you could make him feel. But he was seeing red as he watched Minghao maneuver you around, how your hands trailed his body.

The ending post is what drove Dino feral. Your back was fully pressed up against Minghao's chest. Your head was tilted back to face him thanks to the light hold Minghao had on your neck, his thumb on your jawline. His other hand rested on your hip, close to your upper thigh to keep you close.

The only sound that filled the air as the music died out was the sound of you two breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling. Dino was only used to that sound when it was the two of you in his bed.

Sensing eyes burning through him, Minghao looked over. He was about to ask for Dino's opinion but froze when he saw the glare Dino held. It was so unlike his younger member, so he was a bit surprised. Yet, he was intrigued to see how else he could push his buttons.

Leaning in close to you, Minghao whispered in your hear. He made sure he kept a bit of distance as to not overwhelm you, but give the impression Minghao was kissing your ear. Anything to drive Dino up the wall.

"Why don't we take a five? Give your lover boy a chance to breathe?"

You tilted your head in confusion before taking a look over at Dino. You've never seen him with his jaw clenched so tightly. You were afraid he was going to break his teeth with that kind of hold on his jaw.

Untangling your bodies, Minghao and you stepped away from with each other. Even though you were aching to know what was bothering your boyfriend, you were overjoyed with how well that first run-through went.

"I'm going to get us some water. Be right back," Minghao announced almost too happily.

I should have nothing to worry about. It's my best friend fulfilling his goal, but it just happens to be with my girlfriend. With his hands all over MY girlfriend. Fuck this.

Once you two were the only ones in the room, you turned towards your boyfriend. You couldn't help the gentle smile that tugged onto your lips at the sight of your pouty boy. Dino has always been seen as far more mature for his age, probably because he wanted to fit in with his hyungs since Seventeen's debut days. Yet, in this moment, he resembled a little boy who was not getting his way.

You were taking tiny steps towards Dino. You were convinced he hasn't moved an inch since rehearsals started. He was sitting up straight with his back against the glass.

"Have I ever told you I hate sharing?" He grumbled.

You giggled and shook your head. Your reaction caused Dino's scowl to deepen as his head shot up towards you. "Sorry," you whispered, apologizing for your reaction. You didn't want to just cast his feelings to the side. This was just a side of Dino you've never experienced before.

"Baby boy, you're not sharing me with anyone." "Damn right I'm not," he muttered.

Before you could even respond, Dino leaned forward to grab your wrists. You gasped lightly at the movement but allowed Dino to guide you in the direction he desired. He gently pulled you down so you straddled his lap. His knees propped up so you could lean back and rest against them.

Once you got situated in the new position, his hands let go of your wrists. Instead, they perched themselves on your hips to keep you secured on his lap. Your arms wrapped around Dino's neck. One hand resting on the base of his neck, the other on the back of his head.

"You only go home with me at the end of the day."

Dino didn't know what took over him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently at first against your neck. Your fingers gently running through his hair now, gripping slightly. The action caused him to growl against your skin, causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach. His lips were like a magnet to your neck.

"Don't ever think I'm willing to let anyone get that close to you again. You hear me?" The kisses were no longer soft pecks. They were open-mouth kisses that traveled up and down your neck, as if he was searching for it.

As his lips were right by where your jaw and neck connect, you felt your breathing hitch. You pulled yourself closer, unaware that the movement had caused you to rub against Dino's hardening boner. His teeth sink into your neck before he began sucking on it to ease the temporary ache.

He needed to get you home. Or at least somewhere where nobody could walk in on you two.

"You drive me absolutely mad, baby girl. I'm so lucky." "And I'm all yours," you reminded him again.

His mind got fuzzy at the softness of your voice. He squeezed your hips lovingly before letting his tongue glide over the reddish-purple hickey forming on your neck. Just one mark that would remind everyone who you belonged to.

"I guess I'm not filming dance rehearsal today," Minghao announced.

Hearing Minghao's voice, you blushed hard. You were going to move off of Dino, wanting to apologize for the PDA. Yet, Dino didn't let you move. If anything, his grip tightened on you to keep you planted on his lap.

Also so Minghao didn't see the boner that was becoming more and more prominent.

Dino slowly pulled away before looking over at his older member. His body was a bit relaxed even though he still wished he could swap places with Minghao in a few minutes. Minghao looked amused, not knowing that his younger brother could get jealous so easily.

"Sorry, Minghao," Dino chuckled. 'I just couldn't help myself." "You could have at least waited until rehearsal was done. At least you didn't make my dance partner too sore she couldn't move. I'd like to just finish and get one ore run-through down."

The two of you nodded, understanding Minghao's request. You were here to help him after all. Turning towards your boyfriend, you kissed his cheek lingeringly. You could feel his smile grow beneath the kiss. "We'll pick up later," you promised him.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

As you pushed yourself up off of his lap, there was a loud gasp behind you. "Dude, you have a boner?! In our dance studio?! I'm going to have to bleach my eyes after this!"

And there's the normal dynamic Dino was used to.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 17. Jealousy

Summary: Xaden and Garrick get their squads together to train, leading to some jealousy with someone unexpected.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long delay on Dahlia. Kinktober took priority, but we are back in full force. I wrote so many parts in the last 24 hours for this, and I can't wait for you guys to see what I'm building up to in a few parts! Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

“I don’t know why you won’t give him a chance.” Liz says in an airy tone.

I turn to see her staring at Garrick and Xaden who have gone shirtless for their sparring warm up. And she wasn’t the only one. There were more cadets here than normal for our night training session. Since bonding dragons it seemed a lot of the first years were wanting to make sure they kept their seat. And every single girl in the room was starting at them.

I can’t help but let my eyes wander as I look over at them. Garrick was by far the most muscular guy in the quadrant. As if every muscle had been carved from stone. I shake my head in attempt to get those thoughts out of my head before turning back to watch Imogen spar with another first year.

“I won’t give him a chance, because he won’t give me a chance.” I reply bitterly.

“I mean, can you blame the guy? You’ve seen how your brother and father treat the other marked ones.” Liz murmurs, still lost in a trance as she watches them spar.

“I am not my brother and my father.” I nearly snap at her, my typical anger rising to the surface at being compared to them.

“Trust me, we know. Even if you were an angsty bitch when we first met you.” Austin teases from my other side, dodging my attempt to shove her away.

“Thanks? Not sure if that was a compliment or an insult.” I say as I narrow my eyes at her slightly.

”Let’s go with both.” Bodhi says as he walks over and joins us, Garrick and Xaden close behind him.

I keep my eyes focused on Bodhi as I jokingly glare at him, but out of the corner of my eye I feel Garrick staring at me. Ever since our interaction in the hallway I’d felt his eyes on me more. Almost as if challenging me to take the bait he’d laid out the other day. Which I was not. Yes I could admit he was attractive, especially while he stood there shirtless with his freaking muscles on full display as they glisten with a slight sheen of sweat. But even if I did get along with him, I was not becoming another notch in his bed post.

”Alright everyone, pair up with someone and start going through some weapon practice.” Xaden advises as he looks over us.

Tonight both his and Garrick’s squads were training together. Apparently a good way to broaden our training by going up against people we didn’t really know. Naturally Imogen tagged along even though she wasn’t in either squad. She made a habit of turning up whenever we were here. She kept saying it was coincidence, but I was starting to think it really wasn’t. Our squads start pairing off, Liz and Austin pairing up as if on auto pilot. They worked well together as they were a similar skill level, often complaining Bodhi and I were too difficult to go up against.

I go to follow Bodhi, but a large figure steps into my path and I’m forced to look up at Garrick. ”How about you and I pair up little Aetos?” His voice laced with a mocking tone as he looks down at me.

I roll my eyes and scoff at him. “No thanks, wouldn’t want to catch something from being too close to you.” I snap back, causing Bodhi and Imogen to snicker at my comment, Xaden’s eyes going wide as he looks between us.

”You’re just scared I’ll finally show you up.” He mocks, arms crossing over his chest as he cocks his head to the side.

An idea forms in my head. A stupid idea. And I silently hope he doesn’t follow through with it as the words leave my mouth. “If you’re so confident about that maybe you should challenge me once challenges start back up. Unless you’re scared I’ll prove you wrong again?”

Another round of snickers pick up around us, Garrick’s brow furrowing as he glares down at me. Clearly me proving him wrong all those weeks ago was still a sore spot for him, and I couldn’t help but smirk at him before pushing past him and dragging Bodhi with me.

”You know he’s going to end up doing that and he’s going to kick your ass in front of everyone?” Bodhi whispers as I lead us over to a spot on the far side of the room.

”He’s not going to kick my ass in front of everyone.” I throw back at him as I grab a sword from the weapons rack.

I turn around to see Bodhi looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Clearly you don’t know him very well, or you’re delusional on the size difference between you two.”

”And he also doesn’t know me very well.” I point out, Bodhi eyeing the sword I’m waving around cautiously as if worried I’m going to hurt him or myself with it.

”Maybe if you-”

”Nope, not happening.” I say before settling into a fighting stance.

Bodhi clearly takes it as a sign this conversation wasn’t going any further, his shoulders sagging in defeat before walking over to grab his own sword. As soon as he settles into a fighting stance I launch myself at him, Bodhi flailing to keep up with me. Each of my strikes fuelled with the hint of anger that had risen to the surface from my interaction with Garrick and words with Bodhi.

Bodhi didn’t deserve how hard I was going at him, but I needed to let out my frustrations somehow. Everyone was so adamant I give the lumbering oaf a chance. But why should I when he wouldn’t give me one? Since the day I’d walked across the parapet, he’d made up his mind about me. Had lumped me in with my brother and father without even a second thought.

Poor Bodhi is quick to succumb to my attacks, my leg kicking his out from beneath him as he falls to the floor with a loud thud as his sword clangs loudly on the ground as I point the tip of mine at his neck.

Bodhi just shakes his head and laughs. “Remind me to never piss you off again.”

”You’ll be fine.” I tease as I move my sword from his neck as I hold out my free hand to him.

He grasps his around mine before pushing off the ground to help me pull him up. Clearly still wobbly from his fall he stumbles into me as he rights himself, causing him and I to laugh at his clumsiness.

“You sure? I nearly just made a fool of myself by nearly sending us plummeting to the floor.”

”Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made a fool of yourself.”

Bodhi laughs as he playfully shoves me away before releasing my hand and heading over to get a drink of water from his pack. As he moves my eyes fall on Garrick who hasn’t moved an inch, except to turn and look over at us. But for once his glare and eyes aren’t trained on me. They’re focused on Bodhi. And it almost looks like he wants to murder him.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd

[atoriv-art]

what are your thoughts on the hyuga siblings and their relationship

OOF now thats one of my favorite naruto dynamics lmao. i think neji and hinata have a very interesting relationship and i say that as someone who really didn't (and tbh still doesn't) love how that relationship developed in canon

i really like the hyuga fight in the chunin exams because the way it's perceived is sooo interesting to me.. neji comes off as an outright bully and i don't even blame the kids for calling him an asshole after all of that, but from reader's perspective it's really obvious that his animosity only exists because of a larger issue...

neji shouldn't treat hinata the way he does, but he does so because of her unique position as a scorned heir. she still benefits from everything that makes his life awful - her life is still valued more than his - but hiashi hates her enough that he won't care if neji dishes out verbal abuse on her. it's an awful dynamic and definitely contributes to hinata's terrible self-worth, but it's a symptom of the life they have been forced into by the man who the manga is intent on letting escape all of the blame for this situation lmao

(hiashi himself can be a really fascinating case honestly. i think he fully means everything he says, which is what makes him so grating but fun to me LOL. his apology to neji is entirely sincere AND it completely misses the point of all of the issues, but neji is young and deprived of acknowledgement enough that he accepts it wholeheartedly. hiashi thinks he's the best uncle of all time.)

hinata herself has so little belief in her own worth that she just sits there and takes whatever abuse people throw at her... i don't actually think neji's anger towards her was a constant - i think some people interpret it that way - rather i feel like it was something that came up whenever he was pushed too far. in more normal circumstances where he's not being made to fight her directly, he was likely more detached than anything. he wanted nothing to do with her.

in one of the filler mini arcs ive mentioned before (i think. the one that focuses on hanabi and hinata) there's a scene that rang very true to me (and im gonna recount this without rewatching it atm so sorry if i get details wrong,): neji was being made to train with hinata, asked to be allowed to leave because he felt his time was being wasted and correctly noted that it doesn't have to be him here, was told no by hiashi and then he started getting vicious and violent. towards hinata, of course, not hiashi. he then got horribly punished for it LOL i think that's the general dynamic they were living in, neji reaches a limit of disrespect that he can take and explodes on the nearest most acceptable target (we loove a boy with no emotional regulation <3), goes too far and suffers the consequence of it while nothing else changes. to him interacting with hinata at all is just asking for pain, either emotional or straight up physical

But, for hinata, she saw herself and neji as similar (the black sheep of the family i suppose), and would have liked to bond over that fact; theyve known each other since they were very little and she outright refers to him as a brother. it's clear to me she's always cared a lot about neji and imo feels responsible for what happened to his father (something that hiashi doesn't help with. Dad of the year), so she saw their match in the exams as a chance to close the distance between them and get neji to see her as a person, an equal instead of a symbol to lash out on.

but, you know, she was 12 LMAO so she ended up pressing all of his buttons instead and it led to his famous outburst, which led to the famous moment of Every Single Jonin (other than asuma.) coming to stop him and further cementing his belief that her life is seen as special. i think (and this is a mix of Shit I Made up, and Me trying to make sense of the manga's insane mishandling of their plotline) that despite her trying her hardest to reach neji she didn't really grasp the horror of his situation. that's the tragedy of neji's life really LMAO, no one really tries to grapple with the severity of what having that curse mark does to a person. she thought of his fatalism as more of a psychological, metaphorical way of dealing with hurt and not like... "my life literally does not belong to me no matter how much i try to fight it"

this is loooooong take this readmore.

i think hiashi-hizashi were hoping that the cousins could have had a better relationship than they did... letting them hang out often and stuff, introducing them early, hizashi not discouraging neji from being friendly with her, to me it all reads as very "ok well this didn't work for Us, but what if it works out for them... even though literally nothing has changed". they were proper family once and hizashi wanted to die for his brother, not his leader, so that just makes sense to me.

i do nautttt like the naruto vs neji fight so to keep the post positive i will gloss over it <3 but hinata and neji's relationship post-chunin exams to me is peak like. God i wish this was done better because it could have been soooo good

neji realizes that his anger is consuming him and adjusts his behavior accordingly, getting a lot of his kindness back, and he becomes intent on fixing his relationship with hinata... i don't hate that premise at all, it's just the way it's executed that bothers me!

the impression i got (and i could be mistaken im in the process of rewatching the anime + rereading the manga) is that their relationship getting better is done exclusively through like. neji repenting for being mean to her. which, don't get me wrong, he SHOULD apologize (AND THAT WOULDVE BEEN A COOL THING TO SEE ONSCREEN, BTW) but you CANNOT divorce his behavior from the hyuga system in general. from the way they act after the exams you would think their issues were born solely from neji being a bully for no reason, and not, like... him lashing out on her because his uncle is literally the devil.

i don't think hinata has the power to change a lot in her clan on short notice (she did get disowned. did that un-happen offscreen? we will never know. Hiashi gets to be a grandfather to her children btw.) but i certainly would have liked to see her standing up for branch members and in the stuff i draw that's the story i have in mind LMAO. like, her gaining a deeper understanding of neji's situation and trying to work against her father trying to make her cousin's life better? i think that would have been really sweet and even show her gaining more confidence in herself and her beliefs. you can still have neji fussing over her and being protective because he feels bad for how they used to be, i actually really like that because neji IS a very sweet person, i just reject the idea that it's his sole Moral Obligation to put everything aside and make things better by the power of I Will Die For You Now, But This Time, For The Right Reasons

as for hanabi i wish she had more screentime soooo bad because i'm obsessed with how she gives off Haunted Child vibes lmfao. talking abt her requires me to expose myself a little bit and have to admit hiashi is kind of a blorbo to me because of how much he sucks ass, but like. Essentially his insane resentment of hinata was born when hizashi died, it doesnt matter it wasn't really her fault, he needed someone to blame and he would never blame himself, at least not outwardly lol. hiashi did genuinely love his brother, it just didn't stop him from being a monster to him, and he is certainly not gonna grapple with that now that he's dead!

(and, you know, the whole "sorry we sent a guy to kidnap an heir. you do need to die for killing him though" thing is really dumb but if we stop at every single stupid thing in naruto we will be here all day.)

with all that being said i think hiashi tries his best to make hanabi everything hinata isn't, and he has very little interest in having her and hinata have any bond at all. he just left neji and hinata to fester in that god-awful dynamic with no supervising, and took hanabi as the best direction for the clan to head towards. but, you know, father of the year is very demanding and doesn't seem to be very fatherly to her at all from the little we see of them. she's just like. a good soldier, and that's what he needs.

i think hanabi growing to resent her sister for the situation she's been put into (if hinata weren't 'weak' she wouldn't have so much responsibility) is very interesting! by the time we meet her i think she's learned that the best thing to do wrt her sister is to just ignore that she exists. as for neji he barely registers as a presence to her; neji has no reason to interact with her and hiashi has no reason to incentivize it. it's very fun to me!

in general i really like all of their dynamics can be used to explore how hurt and trauma drive people apart, i could talk about them for hourssss LMAO i love the suna family for the same reason!

[brayneworms]

i'll fetch you anything you like.

featuring. aki hayakawa x gn!reader

content. MDNI, smut, riding, begging, crying, smoking, light masochism, burning (reader puts a cigarette out on aki), mild codependency, pet names (loverboy, darling), gender neutral reader, agab not mentioned, sub!aki + dom!reader, a little angst, pining, kissing, vague love confessions.

word count. 3.2k

synopsis. aki's smoking is a nasty habit, but you're certain you can get him to quit. also, aki pines.

notes. minors don’t interact. anyways how’s this for a first post ( totally normal abt aki hayakawa )

Aki Hayakawa is an orphan in every sense of the word.

Literally being the one most people associate him with, but—Aki comes to a realisation when he's maybe thirteen or fourteen that the word runs deeper than that. It's not as if your entire life is defined by your relationship with your parents, after all; even people who have ones that are alive become something other than offspring in their life. Husband, brother, uncle, father. But orphan sticks, no matter how many people you fill your life up with to replace the parents you lost. Aki thinks there is something in the word that rings of loneliness; he could father a hundred children, become grandfather to two hundred more, gain friends and a partner, and still he would be Aki Hayakawa, orphan.

Alone.

"That's a bad habit."

Aki's fingers don't pause in their ministrations, thumb pressing down on the jut of the lighter as it zips to life. The cherry of his menthol cigarette glows in the blue-dark of the office. The sky outside the thin window is pale with the gloaming, and he breathes a haze of gritty smoke over it, sullying the view.

You've made yourself at home on his desk, legs swinging leisurely. You must be cold in only his work-shirt and boxers that cling to your hips and thighs. You watch him passively, head cocked.

"One of my least dangerous ones," he intones, which is true enough for a man who has three years to live at most.

"Oh? What tops the list?"

Aki eyes you serenely. "I dunno if you've heard, but I work for this place called the Public Safety Division."

Your laughter breaks the delicate quiet like a flock of birds taking off from a tree. "Put it out. I hate the smell."

Aki's dark brows crinkle. "I'm not wasting a perfectly good cigarette. If it bothers you so much, eat it."

"Eat it? You freak."

"At least then someone's getting something out of it."

You hop from the desk, yawning. In the dim light that is starting to grow just a little brighter, Aki can see the beginnings of bruises on your throat and collarbone, vanishing in an ugly rainbow trail down to the hastily-down buttons of his work shirt. Your socked feet pad along the threadbare carpet on your way over to him, and Aki inhales deeply. Maybe if there's enough smoke in his lungs it will encourage him not to breathe; that way, he won't do that god-forsaken embarrassing thing he does when you get close. His heart stutters, and it makes his breath hitch audibly. The worst part is you seemed to be goddamn attuned to it—there seems to be little you like more than knowing you have an effect on him.

Aki doesn't stop you when your fingers come up to encircle his cigarette, brushing his as you pluck it gently from between his lips. He hates that even the smallest kiss of your skin against his still sends liquid lightning zipping through him, like he's that seventeen-year-old he was when he met you, the one full of spite and anger who hadn't been held since his mother died.

You pull the cigarette away, still lit; the butt glows red and angry between your delicate hold, gleams in the reflection of your eyes. When Aki meets them, he feels his mouth go dry; your pupils are large and black, engulfing iris, barely blinking as you look up at him.

"Bet I can make you quit," you say.

Aki snorts. "Better men than you have tried."

"Anything can be unlearned," you counter smoothly. "All bad habits go away with a little punishment."

Aki feels his heartbeat quicken, tries not to let the way that one word sets his blood alight show on his face. "Hm," he says noncommittally, but frustratingly, he doesn't think he's fooled you for a second.

Your serene smile curved into something sharp as easily as breathing. "Gimme your hand."

And Aki does, though he knows where this is going. You turn his hand over gently at the wrist, leaving it palm-up, fingers splayed in your grip. You hold him so gently it makes him shiver. Carefully, slowly—Aki thinks, giving him much time to pull away—you raise the burning end of the cigarette and plant it in the centre of his pale palm, a stinging kiss. Aki hisses, grits his teeth, but dutifully doesn't move even as his hand twitches involuntarily at the contact. Just as tears start to needle at his eyes, you twist the butt and pull away, leaving a shallow pool of grey ash, a black soot mark, and a stinging red welt like a patch of burning leaves.

His eyes are glued to the masterpiece you've made of his boring skin. The burn throbs unpleasantly, but something low and hot has come alive in his abdomen at the lingering kiss of pain. It satiates something inside him just smoking the thing could never hope to touch. He likes the futility of feeding himself his own death, sure—makes him feel like he has marginally more control over it, despite what the Curse Devil might have to say about it. This sort of pain is different; it goes straight for the gullet, and it makes it all the more sweet that it's you doing it.

A stupid, lonely part of Aki—orphan—wants to believe you're doing this because you care for him. Because you want him to live as long as possible. The grown, cynical man he supposes he's become thinks you must be just as fucked up as he is. It doesn't really matter either way; Aki's loved you for years, and he's astonished he's even gotten this far with you, and he'll take anything you deign to give him, pleasure or pain because it's all sort of the same to him anyway.

You unscrew a bottle of drinking water and hold it over your discarded blazer, soaking the lapel before pressing it to the burn. Aki grunts, eyebrows knitting up as a strange cocktail of relief and pain throbs slowly through his body. Your hands holds the wet fabric over his one, like a ribcage encasing a beating heart. Oh, Aki would let you hold his heart in your hands, and who cares what you decided to do with it? It's hardly his business; it belongs to you anyway.

He leans in to kiss you, gets close enough to brush his lips against yours and feel his pupils dilate before you turn your head, ducking. Aki feels his heart stutter anxiously as you turn your serene face up to him.

"Hate the taste," you say.

Aki frowns. "I barely smoked it for thirty seconds."

"It lingers."

Aki isn't stupid; this is part of the punishment. And the goddamn annoying part is that it's working. Even as you take his other hand to hold the soaking blazer against his burn and turn away, every fibre in his body wants to stop you. Turn you back around, pin you against the wall, swallow any complaints with his lips. He wants to make you melt against him, wants to melt himself under you in that way you always manage to do to him. He likes feeling like he doesn't have to think with you; just await whatever comes next, pain or pleasure, and he'll take it because it's you.

But Aki doesn't move. He's not a problem dog. He stands quietly and nurses his burn, tracking you with his eyes as you re-dress yourself, his shirt tucked into your slacks, tie wound through the collar, work boots laced up to the ankle.

"I gotta run home and shower," you say, tugging your blazer on. "I'll see you back here in, like, an hour."

Aki nods. "Okay."

The grin you flash him is little more than poisonous; it makes it heart skip a beat. "How's your burn?"

He swallows around a dry throat, holding your stare with a touch of timidity. "What burn?"

Delight shivers over your expression like wind ruffling a field of grass, and you stride the length of the cramped office and kiss him. Aki grunts, rendered thoughtless the moment your mouth touches his, your hands in his collar and his hair; his hands go slack, blazer fluttering to the ground, and the welt on his palm stings horribly when his hands come up to latch around your shoulders and neck. He pulls you closer, a little frantic, and he has barely a moment to reflect on how worrying it is that he's this desperate for your touch after being denied only once, but before he can think to dwell on it you're parting your lips and he's tugged your body flush against his own. He's so close he could drown in you. For a moment, he wants to.

Far too soon, you pull away. You're delighted. "Good," you murmur, and he hates how his heart leaps into his throat. "You're so good, Aki."

His face is on fire. "I'm not a dog," he manages.

"Sure you are," you say matter-of-factly. "And I'm Pavlov. I'll break that nasty habit of yours if it's the last thing I do. Give you something else to focus on. Okay?"

Aki licks his dry lips. "You can try," he says hoarsely, hoping it doesn't sound as much like an invitation as he thinks it does. The impish smile you give him implies he's shit out of luck.

Aki is in hell.

He knows this, because every time the two of you have hooked up since your little conversation in his office, he hasn't been allowed to kiss you if you detect even a whiff of smoke on his breath. It's killing him a little, to be honest. Fucking without kissing just feels wrong. It makes him forget it's you, sometimes, his vision of you sliding out of focus 'till you could be just anyone. And Aki doesn't fuck just anyone. He fucks people he loves.

He loves you. But he can't have you. And he can't even kiss you so he can pretend he has you, if only for a minute. It's just fucking, a tumble of sweating limbs and gasps and grunts, of a thrilling cocktail of pleasure and pain and almost-confessions bitten back at the last second, hidden in the crook of your neck.

Your shitty wooden headboard creaks into the shitty thin bedroom wall, and Aki spends a moment in lucidity to send a silent apology to your neighbours. One arm braces against the wood, flexing with every fast jerk of his hips, and you're under him, eyes clenched shut and meeting his thrusts in a way that has Aki wondering why anyone could think being on top had to mean being in control. He's oiled to your machine, matching the rhythm of your hips and trying not to drown as your back arches up from the sweat-damp sheets, stomach curving into his, one arm holding fast around his neck.

You feel so good he could cry. Not that that would be an irregular occurrence, or anything—he'd practically sobbed the first time you fucked, and back then you'd been all fluttering concern, stopping even though he tried to sputter please, Christ, don't stop, I'll die if you stop, please. He supposes you're kind, in your own way. You'd stroked away his tears and kissed his damp face.

"Aki," you groan, bringing him forcefully back to the present; his dark bangs dangle in his eyes as he looks down at you, mouth agape and head cloudy. "Wh-what's got you so wound up?"

As if you don't know. Aki grits his teeth.

Your hand makes patterns on the damp nape of his neck as his rolling hips slow, as he breathes deep to try and regain a semblance of his dignity. "Loverboooy," you croon up at him, your free hand gripping at the junction between his hip and thigh. Aki grimaces; he hates that nickname. "Talk to me."

Aki glares at you. "You know—I want—you know. St-stop it."

He whimpers somewhere high in his throat as your body tightens around him, free hand coming up to scrub down his face. "D-don't!"

"Sorry, sorry," you laugh. "I'm sorry. Why don't you tell me what you want? Maybe I'm feeling nice."

It feels like a trap, like luring his feelings into the light just to snap a bear trap over them. But Aki wants, he yearns so deeply and desperately that he's just about willing to risk it. "Want to kiss you."

Your eyes gleam. "Do you?" you ask, as if this is news to you.

His arms shake. "Please."

God, he's pathetic. He's so used to being in control, to tailoring every facet of his life meticulously, grooming and tidying and cleaning. He knows the exact amount of calories he should eat per day. He puts his shoes on a rack so he never tracks mud onto the tatami mats. His shower utensils are organised in the order he uses them—shampoo, conditioner, face-wash, scented gel. He likes being in control. He thinks, anyway. You make him reevaluate. You make him reevaluate an awful lot.

You toss your head back against the pillows; you have the audacity to laugh. "Saw you smoking earlier," you tell him, and Aki's stomach goes cold. "Mm... full pack, too. A new one? When'd you buy that."

"Th-that was hours ago." And it's true; when Aki learns you're coming over, he puts his cigarettes in a locked draw and puts the key somewhere difficult to reach. "It won't still taste. I've eaten. I brushed my teeth."

That's just good manners.

"It's the principle of the thing, loverboy," you say, and your hand comes up to his chest and rolls him over. Aki gapes, whining at the loss of contact only to choke on his own voice as you sling a leg over his hips and slide him back into you. Your nails scrape red railroads down the pale skin of his sternum at the stretch, and Aki watches, mesmerised as you start to move, the flex of the muscles in your thighs, the vein bulging in your throat as you toss your head back. He wants to be all over you, a hand on your neck feeling your pulse go berserk for him, his teeth in your skin as proof he was there, nose buried in your hair, dirty and rough and the exact opposite of the way he usually wants you. That is—soft and kind, romantic, slow and heady as syrup.

He wants kisses that taste like tears, whispered confessions into bedsheets. He wants, painfully, the constant assurance he can never ask for. I love you. I love you. Oh, Aki, I love you.

"Kiss me," he gasps instead, writhing against the bedsheets, head thrown back at the brutal pace you set him. He's so close, teeth gritting and muscles locking up but without a kiss it feels cold and incomplete. "Please, please, kiss me, please—"

"You're a brat, Aki," you hiss, and Aki's heart twitches in his chest; he can hear his pulse in his skull. "You ignore the one rule I gave you, and you still think you get to ask for what you want?"

"It's a bullshit rule," he snaps. "I—I can't just, hah, I can't j-just turn it, off, oh, fuck—"

"You okay?" you ask in a fleeting moment of mercy. Aki's eyebrows knit up. "Am I—is it too much?"

Aki shakes his head. "I'm okay," he mumbles pitifully. "I'm close."

"I know, darling," you murmur. "It's okay. I'm gonna give you what you want. And you're gonna give me what I want. Deal?"

"I—I..." Aki chews the inside of his cheek till copper floods his mouth. "I'll try? I'll try, I swear."

You still for a moment. "You mean that?"

Aki nods frantically. "Yes, I—if that's what you want, anything, anything you want, please..."

The beam that breaks out on your face is a million watts. "Aki," you breathe, and finally you lean forward 'till your chest brushes his. Aki can't breathe, transfixed by every swoop of your eyelash and chap in your lip as you lean close. When you speak, you're so close that your lips brush his, and he has to keep every muscle taut to stop himself leaning forward and closing the gap. "Aki, I want you to live a long, happy life. You get that, right? Why I'm doing this?"

He feels his stomach flip, can barely comprehend the words through his dazed mind. His glazed eyes follow you, thunderstruck. "What—what d'you mean?"

"I care about you," you murmur. "I want you to live as long as possible. Want you to stick around with me."

With you? It's a wonder his heart doesn't explode. For a fleeting moment, there exists a future beyond the Gun Fiend, beyond Denji and Power and Nyako, one where he can love you freely. Tears needle at his eyes. It all seems so impossible.

Aki forgets himself, surges up to capture your mouth, but you turn at the last second, planting a kiss to his cheek before focusing on his jaw, his ear, capturing the lobe between your teeth and sucking gently as your hips resume their rhythm. You're faster now, gasping for breath, Aki's hands sliding over the skin of your hips and torso for a lifeline. You tongue at the cords in his neck, the shell of his ear and the sensitive divot just underneath till he's squirming.

Your hands are everywhere—scraping nails across his twitching abdomen, running up the valley between his pecs, tweaking a nipple and pulling. And Aki groans and gasps, every hint of pain from your lovely hands sending him rocketing closer towards the edge. Tears bead at his lashline.

"'M close," he gasps again.

"That's okay, loverboy," you say sweetly, words buzzing against the skin of his throat, and Aki shudders, arching impossibly closer to you. He can feel every nerve in his body sawed open and set alight, impossibly sensitive, boiling with love, and as he comes he buries his face into the crook of your neck with a hoarse cry. Two lone tears streak down his flushed cheeks.

You're not far behind, and Aki wouldn't dream of pulling out, so he squirms and gasps and whines with the prickling of overstimulation as you chase your own high. "Sorry—fuck—you okay?"

"I'm, I'm good," Aki whines. He cracks one steely blue eye open. It stands out against his red skin; he's so flushed as to look sunburnt.

"'M almost, fuck, almost there. Hang on for me?"

Aki raises shaking hands to grip your hips in answer. You laugh between pants, baring down at him.

"That's my boy."

You don't kiss him when you finish, but it's alright. You flop down beside him, taking in deep lungfuls of air, nuzzling your lips to the salt-sweat cooling on his chest. Usually, round about now, Aki would roll to reach his bedside cabinet where his open pack of cigs lay in wait. The lighter is right beside him, open and tempting. He can almost hear the flick of it, the zip of the flame bursting to life, the sizzle of the cherry scorching beneath that controlled flame. The grit of smoke in his mouth and down his throat, emptying his lungs of fresh air.

The pack goes untouched. Aki winds an arm around your shoulders and holds you close, your cheek against his thudding heart.

You don’t kiss him, but it’s alright.

Aki’s not a problem dog.

He's going to earn it.

if you enjoyed this, request something.

[tainted-liquor]

'La Princesa De Mi Corazon⋆˙⟡♡

E42!Miles Morales x Daddy's Girl!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles ! TWs: Cursing, realistic teenage dates (he didn't spend no 5k cmon now) W/C: 2.4k A/N: This can be read as an autistic reader if u squint rllly hard ! Another lovely request I got!! Enjoy luvs

For as long as you can remember, you've never actually been told the word "no" by your father. When your mother didn't wanna get something for you, you'd just ask your dad! Since you were the youngest and first daughter in your parent's long line of sons, with you having 4 older brothers, there were times when you didn't even have to ask, it was just yours before you could even think about it. Clothes, phones, shoes, makeup, perfume, all of it was yours. You were a daddy's money girl, with everything in the world right at your fingertips. So naturally, you tended to avoid serious relationships with boys due to your insanely high standards that had been curated since birth. Until you met him, Miles.

Miles was the complete opposite of you and your aesthetic. Where you were giddy and childish, he was serious and mature. You possessed everything under the sun in the shade of pink, where he barely had anything besides black and purples in his closet. Originally he didn't fuckin' like you, like, at all. He thought you were a 'spoiled air-headed dressed up money drowned bimbo' due to his experience in 'working' with rich people. They all seemed to act the same way and wanted the exact same thing, money or power.

But that view dropped immediately when he saw you interact with others. You weren't rude, you definitely weren't stupid, and you were the kindest most giving person he had ever seen before. People all in your circle constantly praised you for how sisterly you were, handing out gifts and words of wisdom like candy. Your only 'flaw' was your ignorance, living blind to the world around you due to being so heavily protected by your father. Sure, there was crime everywhere and New York was a walking murderhouse, but you didn't know that!

You were casually talking to one of your best friends Brenna when you bumped into someone, knocking you straight on your ass and causing him to stumble back a little. "I am so so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" you empathized as you picked yourself up and immediately offered to help the stranger. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket as he spoke, his voice quiet and steady as he did. "Oh my bad, It's all good. Just be careful." You gave him a warm smile and a brief nod before setting off again, assuming that would be the last time you two spoke. And damn were you wrong.

The next time you'd see Miles, you were at the mall the following Saturday with a shit ton of bags in your hands. You practically skipped through the concourses of the mall, smiling and giggling with Brenna. You were in a brand new off-white dress and rounded the corner to see Miles waiting for a Cinnabon in line. As soon as you saw the blue and white logo of the bakery, and the smell of sweet sugar and baked goods kissed the tip of your nose, you stopped what you were doing and stood behind the familiar set of twin braids. "Hey, Miles!"

Miles looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening a fraction when he saw over 10 bags on each of your arms. "Yo…what's up with all your bags? You don't feel your circulation gettin' cut off?" he asked with a bewildered expression, "Damn, how much money you spent here?" he gawked. Truth is, you weren't sure. All your dad said was to have fun and he didn't necessarily…give you an amount to spend, he just handed you the card and told you the PIN. "I actually don't know. This has to be a minimum of 600 dollars, Daddy just kinda told me to have fun with it!" You shrugged like that was completely normal.

Miles stared for a minute, analyzing the 20 bags you had in total from various stores. he sighed with a small smirk, shaking his head in disbelief as you sort of merged with his spot in line. Neither of you realized, but you unknowingly recruited Miles in your shenanigans at the mall as soon as you both left the bakery with a series of sweets. You three set off to the nearby sneaker outlet, buying everyone a minimum of 4 pairs of sneakers to match every outfit they'd ever make. If Miles didn't know before, he knew now that you were the gift god when it came to generosity and Daddy's money.

His entire perspective of you changed that day, with you more actively talking his ear off and surprising him with random shit you got with your dad's credit card. He knew then and there that your standards were sky high and anyone who ever fell in love with you would be up for a bullfight ahead of them. He saw how your dad showered you with absolutely anything you asked for, with you even having a real-life princess crown from 2011 plated with morganite and rubies stationed in a plastic case on a high shelf in your room. But as he spent more time hanging out with you or spending time over at your house with your brothers, it hit him like a fucking truck. He knew whoever found themself head-over-heels for the pretty pink princess of her family would be in for a fucking hell of a time, he just never expected it to be HIM.

The day he realized he loved you was just like any other day, with you speeding up to him whenever you saw him. Your usual poofy dress skirt flows behind you like something out of a Disney animation. As soon as he knew to grab you so you didn't send the both of you falling to the ground, he felt a sudden warmth in his face. No, not you smushing your face against his as you gave him a spine-breaking hug, but a new kind of warmth that screamed danger. He suddenly became aware of your perfectly fitting style and the way each of the features on your face harmonized perfectly to create the perfection that is you.

Even though you came from completely different backgrounds, you never ONCE in your life dared say something about his situation. There were nights when he would just watch you as the prowler, skipping through his neighborhood like you didn't hear any of the gunshots, screams, explosions, or see anything wrong at all with where you currently were. It's not that you didn't notice, but you were completely aware that not everyone was as fortunate as you were, so you had no right to look at situations that weren't identical to yours any differently. And despite how "uppity" you looked on the surface, you truly thought of everyone as a new friend.

You, on the other hand, were crushing HARD. On some, you actively got quieter and sometimes just shut the fuck up entirely when Miles was nearby. You knew that you were probably making a mistake by genuinely loving someone so fully in this age of infidelity and communication issues, but you couldn't help it! He was just so pretty and listened to everything you had to say and he never once asked you for anything! Ever! You didn't know how Miles would behave in a relationship, but you damn sure weren't prepared for it.

When Miles asked you out on a date, you were a squealing mess. You threw on a pretty pink dress and quickly threw your goddess braids into a quick bun. When your dad watched as you eagerly checked your outfit in the mirror, he was a little taken aback when you told him that you were going on a date. He gave you a warm smile, telling you to be safe and if he tries anything that he'll blow his fuckin' top off. You laughed at him being so overprotective, calmly explaining to him that Miles wasn't like that at all.

You silently pondered where Miles was planning on taking you. You didn't want your first date to be all fancy, because that made them look like they were trying way too hard. But you also didn't wanna sit in some random diner, either…you didn't know what you wanted. All you did was hope that he paid attention to any of your conversations as you patiently waited on your velvety couch. You immediately perked up at the sound of the doorbell, flying to the door and waiting a couple of seconds before swinging it open.

"Mírate! La princesa de Nueva York! You love your dresses, huh?" He asked with a small smile, bracing himself as you dove straight into his arms. You giggled as you did a small little spin, showcasing the new silk dress. "I was debating on a different babydoll dress I have or this one. This one just felt more fitting!" you shrugged as you closed the front door behind the both of you. Miles had no idea what a babydoll dress was, but he made sure to let you know that you looked stunning in this seashell shade of pink. You follow closely behind Miles, loosely wrapping both of your arms around his left arm as you begin to break down the various types of dresses, and which one was your favorite.

"I didn't even know dresses had names…What's your favorite kind?" He asked with a small amused smile. Not only was this the first time someone had actively listened to you rant about your love of dresses, but he made an effort to even ask what your favorite one was? Lord, he was in for an earful. And he clung to every single word you said like it was the sweetest of melodies. When you finished your long-winded rant regarding pink flowy sundresses, he nodded with a bashful grin. "So a puff-sleeved peasant dress made of chiffon?"

You nodded eagerly as you realized he had been listening to you the entire time. "Yeah! I drew it in my sketchbook a little while back, I think I'll show you when we walk back." You chirped as you slowly began to approach what looked like the most gorgeous candy store of your life. It smelled like heaven and looked just like eye candy. You didn't even get the chance to point before Miles gently guided you through the frosted glass double doors. You beamed as you immediately set off (taking him with you) toward some of the pastries.

You filled up two mini bags with various types of candy, croissants, and two rock candies, one in purple and one in pink. "Miles, what's your favorite candy?" You asked as you scooped gummy sharks into your bag. "Uhh…those sour airhead stripes," he replied as he grabbed two near-frozen sodas from the wide commercial fridge. You got two packs of his favorite candy and slipped it into one of your candy bags, skipping over to him to pay for everything at the counter. You rummaged through your bag for your wallet, looking up to realize Miles already had planted his card in the reader.

"C'mon, this is like, so much stuff! Let me pay!" you insisted as you went to open your wallet. He gave you a firm glare, zipping your entire wallet closed and stuffing it back in your bag. "You good? I'm taking YOU on a date, not the other way around" he asked as you intertwined your hand with his, allowing him to lead you back out of the candy store. You played back his words in your mind, processing each syllable and just how much it meant to you. You giggled to yourself as Miles told you that you were gonna go rollerskating before he took you back home!

There was no actual problem, you loved the idea of going skating with Miles! The issue was…you couldn't skate. Miles laughed loudly as he watched you attempt to meet him on the rink, trying not to bust your ass on the soft and neon carpet. You froze in complete terror, holding both arms out and vaguely resembling a confused cat with its ears back. Miles glided over to you between a fit of giggles, holding out his hand for you to hold onto.

You firmly grasped his hand, holding on for dear life as he slowly guided you to the shiny hardwood floors of the rink. "Miles I'm gonna fucking cry," you state, wide-eyed and afraid as your legs seem to weaken as he gently pushes you forward. "Alright, hold on mama. I gotcha, just drag your legs forward," he instructs as he glides forward like clockwork. He takes both of your hands within his, laughing as you fight back the urge to scream as you look down at the ground. "And here I thought you loved skating!" he laughed.

"I do! I swear I do! But I can't…oh my god I'm gonna faint…" you sighed as you wrapped both arms firmly around his torso, squeezing him like your life depended on it. "Alright, c'mon. Te ayudaré." he shrugs as he propels the both of you forward as slow as he knows how to. It was amazing, and your face lit up when you realized how fun it was to 'rollerskate'. You hadn't realized when, but you naturally picked up the rhythm of Miles's legs, adapting his style of skating slowly but surely. And when you realized you weren't even holding on to him anymore, your face lit up brighter than any star in the world.

When you packed everything up and returned both of your skates, you were giggling like a child and buzzed off nothing but sugar. You wildly explained how much fun you had and how you felt like a flying fairy on the skating rink, thanking Miles over and over for being so fun. He dropped you off at your house, holding a brief conversation with your parents as you skipped upstairs to find your sketchbook. You eagerly showed him the plethora of dresses you had cooked up in your head, explaining every one of them.

"Damn, you really are a princess huh?" He chuckled as you flipped through the many beta designs of dresses comparable to that of Princess Diana's. "I'll just have to get you one of these next time then huh? Tú eres la Princesa de mi corazon." he chuckled as you waved goodbye. You didn't know what he was saying, but you couldn't help but beam at the affectionate energy radiating from his words. He gave a formal goodbye to your parents before disappearing as swiftly as he arrived.

"I like that kid. He's very proper." You heard your mother exclaim. "Will he be over more often?"

You nodded eagerly as you ran up to your room to scream more into your pillow.

[ryker-writes]

Your angst fic had made me go into angst creative mood. Twisted wonderland Character/s of your choosing of younger sibling that have chronic illness but hide it from their family. Often when to the toilet to cough out blood to avoid suspicious. Even went as far as asking the dr to keep it a secret because they don't want to burden their family and wanted them to enjoy their life because they already suffer so much and the distance actually help. Until sibling collapse and went into coma and the Dr had to break the news that they don't have much time left.

If it not to much- I'm feeling very angsty-

Oh my the heavy angst. This is so sad tho but I love it. These actually ended up longer than I thought they would be. I just had too many thoughts and it hurt my soul to write this because it's so sad but I enjoyed it

sorry not sorry if anyone cries <3

Characters: Leona, Idia, and Malleus

warnings: Mentions of blood, implied reader death, angst, no happy ending

Request rules and Masterlists

Leona:

you knew you should tell Leona about your condition

he was your older brother and he should know

but Leona was pretty protective and would drive himself mad demanding that somebody find something to help you

and he would spend all of his time worrying and fussing over you

so you didn't tell him

you wanted him to enjoy things and be happy

he's already struggled so much growing up and you don't want to burden him more

also you wanted to peacefully enjoy the time you had with everyone without a lingering sadness in the air

so you pleaded with the doctor to keep it a secret

and thankfully they did

all you had to do was hide the blood that you may cough out

so your bathroom trips became more frequent

Leona even joked that you should see the doctor about how much you have to go to the bathroom

but he didn't know the truth, and he was happy

that's all you wanted

until one day you woke up feeling weaker

you tried to fight it and carry on as you normally would

but for some reason you just couldn't

it was when you were walking in botanical garden towards Leona

black spots started to cloud your vision and you felt like you lost control of your body

the last thing you heard was Leona shouting

Leona was very worried when he saw you collapse

and you weren't responding to him either

he rushed you to the infirmary as quickly as he could and demanded that the doctor sees you immediately

when the doctor tells him that you're in a coma and don't have much time left, he's angry

how could you not tell him about your illness

he would've tried to help you if you just told him

Leona will spend most of his time by your side, waiting for you to wake up

he's not going to waste a moment somewhere else

he doesn't know what to do with himself

he's so angry with himself for not knowing sooner and not being able to do anything

you have to wake up, you just have to

Idia:

the Shroud family was a strange one

most of the family were shut-in's that were pretty isolated and lonely

your big brother Idia was a prime example of this

he spent most of his time behind the screens and barely interacted with other people

and he didn't really have friends either

both you and Ortho wanted him to be happy

and that's why you didn't tell him about your illness

if he knew he would isolate himself further and bury himself in trying to help

he would sacrifice his own health for the sake of you

and you couldn't let that happen

though you did hope that somehow he would be able to be happy and have a friend before your illness took over

it was difficult to keep it hidden

Ortho regularly does scans on you and Idia's health so he knows if something is wrong

so he knew, but you had to convince him not to tell Idia

it was a long process and filled with tears but he gave in eventually

and so when you would spend time with Idia, Ortho would be a little sad but hide it well

when you made and excuse of going to the bathroom Ortho knew what was happening and would make up some excuse to Idia about you drinking a lot of water or something

but then one day you were walking through the school halls with Ortho and Idia's tablet

it hit you so suddenly that you didn't even have time to react

as you coughed you could feel the blood sputter out and onto your chin

this coughing fit seemed worse than the rest and you couldn't stop

it hurt and even brought you down to the ground, and after a bit you passed out

Ortho was quick to help stabilize your condition and take you to the infirmary

all that came from the tablet was panicked noises and frantic questions

once the doctor checked up on your condition, he gave them the bad news

you had been sick for a long time and it's led you to a coma

with the way your condition was progressing, you didn't have much time left

Idia was so confused

how could both he and Ortho not notice especially when Ortho did health scans

but Ortho didn't answer and Idia could just tell that Ortho already knew

Night Raven College was buzzing with gossip that day

some were saying they saw Idia Shroud himself quickly walking through the halls and others denied that it couldn't be true

the notorious shut-in would never even leave his room or go outside Ignihyde

but the rumors were true

Idia Shroud had left his room and walked through the halls to the infirmary

and he stayed there all day constantly checking up on every little change in your condition

and when he wasn't checking on your condition he would sit there quietly and think

why did this have to happen?

why did it have to be you?

it wasn't fair

Idia was making the stressful trek through the halls every day so he could stay by your side in case you woke up

as he sat there he would play some of his video games and tell you all about it like he normally would, but this time you weren't able to respond

Malleus:

Malleus didn't have a lot of people he treasured in his life

those in Diasomnia were like his family, but you were actually his family so he treasured you dearly

he was always looking out for you and doing everything he could to make sure you were happy, and you wanted the same for him

so when the doctor had informed you of your illness and what would happen, you didn't want to tell him

Malleus would be crushed at the news

He had always been someone who was lonely

and you were like the one person he had that wasn't required to be around him

if he were to learn that you would soon be taken away from him, he wouldn't be able to cope

and you wanted to see him happy as long as you would be here

you couldn't tell him and instead kept it hidden from everyone

Malleus never questioned it much when you ran off to the bathroom

he would just ask if you were alright and once you said you were, he wouldn't ask past that

and so many days and even weeks past as you spent time with Malleus

he seemed happy and you were happy to see him like that

but it was when you were going on one of his gargoyle walks when the world started to spin

you wanted to ignore it and act natural before Malleus could notice, but it was all to much

your legs seemed more tired than usual and you fell to the ground

you could hear Malleus ask you repeatedly what was wrong but you couldn't answer

then the world faded to black

The great Malleus Draconia was terrified

you weren't responding to him and he didn't know what was wrong

his healing magic was amazing, but he couldn't heal injuries he didn't know about

so he picked you up and teleported the two of you to the infirmary

the doctor had to stop whatever they were already doing when the fae prince himself demanded his assistance

and the doctor checks up on you and tells Malleus everything

you were sick, now in a coma, and you were running out of time

the room was quiet for a minute as Malleus processed what the doctor said

and then, thunder

the worst thunderstorm Night Raven College has ever seen has been summoned

lightning was striking all around the campus and many students were taking shelter while terrified

but the infirmary was the safest place from the storm

Malleus sat by your side quietly pondering his thoughts

he was angry

not at you but at your illness for doing this to you, life for cursing you this way, and mostly at himself

he should've been able to see the signs before it got to this point

he should've been there for you

he should've helped you

how ironic it is that one of the most powerful mages was so helpless to save the one person they treasured most of all

Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came to find him after the storm started

and when they did, they didn't even say anything, but felt the heavy atmosphere

Lilia tried providing some comfort, but Malleus just stayed silent

for days after that, his three guards stood outside the infirmary and prevented anyone from disturbing the two of you

the storm persisted and Malleus never left your side

he would sit there for hours silently wishing for you to wake and be okay

even though he knew that was unlikely

but he wouldn't leave and possibly miss you waking up

that was simply one event he wouldn't miss

Malleus was never good at noticing how quickly time passed

but as he sat by your side, he was painfully aware of every passing second that you lie there

[gladiatorcunt]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Three - First 'Date'

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.2K

Series Masterlist

Party Princess's Potential Prince

F1 fans are always delighted to see the Party Princess and her year's of friendship with Fernando Alonso. Every Monaco Grand Prix the two greet each other like old friends.

They were seen embracing upon the Princess's arrival to the paddock. Most fans thought nothing of it. It was normal for the pair. Ever since she first met him at ten years old.

Although interactions between the Party Princess and Alonso have been nothing but platonic, some if us are left to wonder if there is something more going on?

Princess Y/N is known for the string of lovers she had. Here at The Monaco Press, we have been lucky enough to interview some of these lovers. When asked for a comment, several of these lovers agreed that their is a high likelihood that the Party Princess has found herself a much older man.

The Monaco Press will bring you the latest on this story as it unfolds.

"Why the hell are you in my apartment?"

Prince Henri walked around the apartment. No matter how large he knew it was, the mess and the clutter made everything feel so much smaller. He kicked away a dirty, sparkly dress. "Can I not come and visit my baby sister?"

"You could have given me some warning," she said as she picked up the dress and the clothes that surrounded it.

Henri shook his head. "Get dressed. We're going out to dinner."

But she sat down on the couch instead. Henri rolled his eyes and stepped over the mess, walking into her bedroom. "Hen, piss off," she called over her shoulder. "I don't want to go to dinner with you."

A dress hit the back of her head. She grabbed it from the back of the sofa and held it out in front of her. It wasn't like the normal dresses she found herself in in the middle of the night, which were far too short low cut. It was black, went down to her knees, and covered up her arms.

"Seriously? Henri, I'll look like a nun."

"I don't care. Do I need to get you shoes as well?"

She glared and marched past him, into her bedroom. She slammed the door shut, quickly got dressed and ran a brush through her hair. She grabbed some flats that matched the dress and pulled them on.

When she was finished she opened the door and stepped out. "Jewellery," Henri said, turning her back around and pushing her into her room.

Her jewellery was all expensive and gorgeous. She picked out some stud earring that, although they didn't look like a lot, were worth more than her rent. Her necklace was simple, too, and she didn't bother with bracelets. Checking herself in the mirror, she walked out of her room. "Good enough for you, your highness?" She asked with a mocking bow.

Henri offered her his arm. She reluctantly took it and followed Henri out of her apartment.

It was a surprise to find no chauffeur waiting for them. Henri opened the car door for her before slipping into the drivers seat. "I've booked out the entire restaurant," he said as he began driving through the streets of Monaco. "Don't leave until you've given him a chance. Please."

"Wait, him?" She suddenly cried. "Henri, I thought we were going for dinner! You can't just set up a date for me and not tell me!"

Henri tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I can and I have," he said.

She huffed as she sank down into her seat. "Who is it?"

"Charles Leclerc."

Charles Leclerc. She had only met him once before. He and his brother were meeting the Monaco family for some super formal interview. Charles had looked at her for most of the interview, and constantly brought up his girlfriend. It was big headed of him to assume she wanted him to the point where he mentioned his girlfriend every five minutes and she'd decided then that she didn't like him.

"Why?"

Henri slightly turned his head towards her while still keeping his eye on the road.

"Why have you set me up with Charles Leclerc?"

Henri shrugged his shoulders, and she could have strangled him. "You need good PR and he needs good PR. It just makes sense."

For the rest of the journey to the restaurant she was silent. She didn’t want to talk to Henri, not when he was such an ass.

When he parked up outside of the restaurant, she still didn't move. "Y/N, come on," Henri huffed. "Stop acting like a child," he said and opened his car door.

If there were paparazzi around, they definitely saw her getting dragged out of the car by the future king. "Henri! Stop!" She cried as she tried to fight her brother off. But he was bigger and stronger than her.

Her had her inside of the restaurant and sat down at a table in no time. She scowled, arms folded over her chest as she stared at the empty seat across from her.

"You have my permission to do whatever it takes to keep her here," Henri whispered to the hostess as he left the restaurant.

Keeping her there meant serving her drinks and bread. Twenty minutes later, the black Ferrari with the white and red stripe appeared.

Dressed in a black suit, Charles walked into the restaurant. He looked incredibly handsome, but that wasn't what she was thinking when she saw him.

"You're late."

"Sorry about that, chérie."

"Don't call me that," she spat as another drink was placed in front of her. "You know this isn't a real date, right? You know Henri only set this up so that we look good."

Charles nodded his head. "I'm aware," he said, playing with the rings on his fingers.

"Then why are you here? To waste my time?"

Charles shook his head. Taking his wine glass, he lifted it to his lips and took a quick sip. He placed it back down and cleared his throat.

"Your brother and I have been talking," he began. "Because of my recent trouble with the media after a messy break up, and because of your constant PR blunders and messy nights out, Henri and I thought it would be a good idea if you and I 'dated'. That way we could pull the media's attention away from our fuck ups and onto our seemingly perfect relationship."

She let out a dry laugh. "Do you really think that'll work?"

Charles shrugged his shoulders. "There's only one way to find out."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something just outside of the restaurant window. "Let me prove it to you," he said, reaching for her hand with a blissed out smile on his face.

When she saw the flash of a camera, she placed her hand in his and painted a practiced smile on her face. Her laugh, too, was practiced, perfected after years of unwillingly being in the spotlight.

"Do you think it'll look like too much if I drove you back to your apartment after this?" Charles asked as the food was placed in front of them.

She rolled her eyes and just hoped the paparazzi didn't see. "Nothing is too much for the party princess," she spat.

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[genderqueerdykes]

really shitty you have to show pictures of your real life family to get people off your back. people havent interacted with mixed families IRL and it shows. had a friend in high school who was half black, her older sister was super white, blonde hair, blue eyes, everything. she was usually mistaken for hispanic if people didn't know, and her brother looked full black. genetics are weird sometimes.

equinox dad reveal

thank you, i appreciate that. i've thought about how i shouldn't have to do it, and i shouldn't, you're right, but i'm not a fan of being accused of lying. i have literally no reason to lie about this. people think that you gain more respect or money or whatever for being black on this website, but you really don't. people aren't magically better to you on here because you're black. people are still racist as hell on here. there was literally 0 change to my income once i came out as biracial. like this has NOTHING to do with brownie points or money or whatever

this is literally important to me because i experienced racial confusion and isolation as a kid. i felt more comfortable around the black people i met in real life, and i was really drawn to black television when i was able to control the TV. i really enjoyed watching The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, The Cosby Show (which now i don't watch due to the news coming out about Bill Cosby, but when i was a child this was not known, keep this in mind), Sanford & Son, The Proud Family, The Boondocks, and other shows that revolved around black families. it felt way more comforting and "normal" to me than shows about all white families.

like this isn't about internet brownie points. this isn't about trying to "look the most oppressed". i'm not trying to get pity. i'm not trying to barge my way into spaces i don't belong to. i'm not telling people that i'm mixed race for any other reason that i'm mixed race and i'm tired of being treated like shit for it. people do NOT care about mixed race people at ALL and it shows. people are so fucking shitty to us, they treat us like used tissues. people act like we're gross and like they don't wanna be around us. not white enough for them, not a person of color enough for them. never enough.

like you said, genetics are weird. they literally just do whatever they want. you are a combination of BOTH of your parents, and all of the genetics that are carried from their parents, and so on. your genetics are mixed. when you're mixed, you definitely have a chance of coming out looking 100% like your parent of color, but you also having a chance of coming out looking 100% like your white parent- you also have a chance of looking like ANYTHING ELSE in between. any combinations of traits. ANY. you don't have to look a certain way to be mixed

thank you for this message i appreciate it! i shouldn't have to post pictures of my dad, but i will. i want people to visually process this. i want people to understand that you literally cannot tell what race someone is purely just by looking at them, by themselves, and not with rest of the people who contributed to their genetic makeup. i really just want to stand my ground and say. i'm not doing this for some kind of social or monetary currency or to "look the most oppressed". i'm doing this because i've been gaslit my entire life about my own fucking father's race, and by that extension, mine. this is goddamn important to me.

[2rats1gogh]

Same anon here with more- people need to stop conflating Aegon with Joffrey Baratheon.

Aegon has done some despicable things that I won’t make excuses for but he’s not the rabid dog that Joffrey was. Cersei, Tyrion and Tywin struggled to rein him in at 13 years old and once that crown was on his head a monster was let loose. Alicent can actually reason and get through to Aegon at pivotal times. Cersei could not do that with Joffrey.

Aegon above all craves Alicent’s approval and affection, he turns into a sniveling mess at Alicent’s scolding at his big age. Alicent is not afraid to tell Aegon exactly what she’s thinking. She doesn’t placate, pacify or coddle like everyone had to do with Joffrey because he was out of control, cruel AND stupid at the same time. Helaena is the most important person in the world to Alicent and Aegon is not going to harm the most precious thing in the world to Alicent. Helaena doesn’t have to fear Aegon bashing her head in with a rock or choking her after she has just had a stillbirth….

He called her an idiot at 14, yes it wasn’t nice but it was completely normal. At 14 I called my sister a cunt right across the dinner table, but I've also fought for that same sister. They are siblings and that interaction that made them seem more human as opposed to their 2 dimensional team black counterparts who always just smile and have kind words for each other- except when Jacaerys was beating the shit out of Luke on the beach, but no one is saying how miserable Luke was despite Luke actually seeming unhappy with parts of his life. He was even vocal about these things. Whereas Heleana who is a blunt speaker, has not said anything like that.

Helaena doesn’t look afraid of Aegon, she doesn’t look afraid of anyone in her immediate family (including Criston) as much as team black would like her to be. At the most Aegon ignores her, like she said. Honestly ignoring her is preferable to what Viserys was doing to Alicent. She had 3 children before she even reached 20. Aemond and Helaena are almost Irish twins. In the show Helaena and Aegon just have the twins who are maybe 4-5 years old, so Aegon is not forcing himself on Helaena.

We don’t know much about Helaena in the show because they decide to delete certain scenes and include other stupid filler scenes when they contain fan favorites…but Helaena in the book was happy. Her input towards the war was valued. She loved her children and everyone could agree she was a wonderful mother.

Her life isn’t perfect, there is no woman in that time period whose life is. Her husband is so far from perfect but that doesn’t mean Helaena lived a life of misery.

The book even says basically that Helaena died with Jaehaerys that night and Alicent didn’t kill Jaehaerys. That was Daemon Targaryen.

And when pointing the finger at Alicent, remember that she didn’t make Helaena on her own. She had a useless father who ignored her and her siblings her entire life. Viserys withheld his love from them out of some twisted loyalty to his first wife that he killed and his oldest child by this wife. These things would have a deep emotional impact on a person, it certainly has on her brothers. Stop letting Viserys off the hook.

(the way you called Joffrey a rabid dog omg I’m cryingggg😭😭😭😭 shxjskkzkvzlclwgzjpf)

but yeah, you are so so so right.

I hate it when people, mostly TB, compare Aegon to Joffrey. Like the ONLY two things they have in common is an ambitious (?) widow mother queen and also the fact that both aren’t very nice people. But that’s about it. Aegon at his worst doesn’t even come close to how horrendous Joffrey was on a regular day. Aegon never killed people for fun, he didn’t publicly humiliate Helaena like Joffey did with Sansa. And as I say, I am ignoring the fact that he’s a rapist because it was literally added out of nowhere, makes no sense, and has no relevance to the plot whatsoever. It was added purely to make Aegon and TG look bad. Canonically he is literally just a lazy alcoholic.

And I absolutely agree with what you said about Helaena. TB often say that “aLiCeNt MaDe HeR LiFe HeLl” but she literally didn’t? She would NEVER have her marry Aegon if Aegon was like Joffrey Baratheon. You can call Aegon every insult in the book, he was neglectful, he ignored her, he wasn’t really present in the lives of their kids, but he was NOT an abusive husband or father. And as you said, unlike Viserys, he never forced himself on Helaena. He wasn’t obsessed with the idea of having as many children as possible with her. Literally not at any point his nonexistent “abusive” behavior is shown, not even in the show. During the dinner scene Helaena literally jokes about her relationship with him, she seems comfortable and chill.

Sure, as you said, her life was far from perfect. In the books she does give birth at 14, in the show, since everyone is slightly older, she most likely was 16? Not that uncommon actually. She still had her mother, and her brothers, she has sir Criston. Aegon’s behavior was controlled by Alicent, so he would NEVER hurt her. If you remember how Alicent reacted to Aegon forcing himself upon Dyana (dumb scene overall but still) you can only imagine how she would react if he treated Helaena the same way.