#surprised and disinterested expression beloved

[elvenbeard]

Two corpos walk into a bar and sass each other... You won't believe what happens next!

In this particular scenario it's Vince, who is only just learning to exist outside the corporate world again, looking for some fun at a bar he knows he won't run any ex-coworkers into. And then there's @lokiina's Midas, also looking for a good time, and least of all at Totentanz he probably expected a verbal instead of a physical clapback to his teasing >:3c

Thank you so much for letting me borrow Midas, I think these two are very bad for each other, but they'd also really vibe xDD

[mell0wjello]

𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓮?

How would the NRC boys fall for their beloved prefect?

! 𝒪𝒸𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 !

~~~~~~

𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸

The poor boy. He was so confused

He had no idea what it was at first

It’s not like your grades were anything remarkable and you were completely magicless. Completely average, so why were you so alluring?

Even worse, you were completely throwing him off

Azul was incredibly skilled at concealing his intentions and emotions, but you seemed to be immune to it

His eye would twitch slightly, and the corners of his mouth would tug gently at his cheeks. His eyes wavered before you and his pupils dilated

The tweels are subjected to all his rants about you

That look you gave him in class, the thing you said to him in the hall, the way your eyes lifted when you smiled, and how your laugh lit up the room. How dare you?

Jade and Floyd gave each other a knowing look. They know.

Everyone does.

The prefect was the only one who was able to peel away Azul's composure, it didn't take long for people to realize Azul's predicament

Azul's favorite part about you is your thighs. He won't admit it, but he loves how squishy they look.

His main love language is physical touch. He really needs a hug, and he rarely gets physical affection due to his cold exterior (even though he really needs it)

You were almost always the one to initiate contact because most of them time he’d be too much of a fumbling mess to approach you

Azul didn’t completely understand the feeling. He thought it wasn’t anything beyond healthy rivalry between you two. But sometimes, he’d think about what it’d be like to hold your hand. To walk with you to class. He didn’t really understand it, but he knew it was there

Since Azul was not usually the one to approach you first, you were encouraged by the tweels to go up to him instead.

You approached him in Mostro Lounge, where you guys would usually talk. You chose a convenient time, when the lounge was almost completely empty, and Azul would be working in his study

If you decide to clear the air and express your disinterest, there will a flash of clear disappointment in Azul’s face before he does his best to cover it up. He’ll try to convince himself there is nothing to be too upset about because he hasn’t had time to process. He’d avert his gaze in the halls and act more passive towards you. Being too close will just undo everything he tried to cover.

If instead, you decide to plant a kiss on his cheek, Azul couldn't be happier. He'd be caught off guard by the sudden gesture unable to form a coherent sentence, although showing no sign of disagreement.

Behind the door, Jade and Floyd knew that they had succeeded in their wingman service

Azul would be quite shy at first, but as time went on, he'd become much more confident. This was all very new to him after all.

Expect him to take you out to NICE dinner. He knows all the best spots. Especially in his hometown.

It did take him more time to show you his merform, but he was always assured that you'd never judge him. He's grown way more used to it by now and lets you see it regularly

His favorite spot to kiss you in is the thighs (no surprise there). They are as squishy as they looked, and so very plush against his lips.

His favorite spot to be kissed is his jaw. It feels very intimate to him and this gives him a lot of security and comfort, knowing how close you two are

𝓙𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱

Hmm, love?

Is it? Not quite

Although, Jade does admit to how much he enjoys teasing you during and outside of class

But it's purely because of your reactions! How entertaining they are

He could look at the puff of your cheeks and the quirk of your brow all day

All while giving you that condescending smirk

And yet, his demeanor flips when you two are alone

Out on hikes, he'd often catch himself spacing out on your profile

He'd stare for a while, but never long enough to let you catch him

Although the expressions you made when he teased you would always amuse him, he liked the natural ones that you made unconsciously best.

The concentrated look in your eyes as you do Crewel's homework, the small part of your lips when you're paying attention to Trein's lesson, and the light small that always creeps up to your lips when you see him

It's fascinating to see how telling your visage can be

You are so easy to read, yet you are always full of surprises for him

He catches himself wanting more. To spend more time with you, to go on further hikes with him. He'd love to take you around his hometown for the sake of hanging out with you.

Floyd noticed right away when Jade was acting a little more cheery than usual. Call it a Tweel 6th sense if you will

Jade wasn’t exactly too keen on hiding it. His usual teasing gradually leaning to flirting with you

There was also a change in his possessiveness. Jade would get a little bit touchy with you when he noticed other students staring. He’d pull you in closer to him, sometimes even lightly sling his arm over your waist

Jades favorite part of you are your lips. Besides how kissable they look, he really likes you dynamic they can be in telling him your mood

Jade needed to tell you, whether you felt the same way or not. After school, you'd usually come around Octavinelle to do complete homework or simply hang around. Jade took this as an opportunity to strike the conversation with you

If you held Jade's hand in consolation, his face would grow cold. He'd make an unreadable face disguising layers of disappointment even he was surprised by. He'd reassure you that nothing would change between you two, but that was not entirely incorrect. He'd continue to be around you, but half of the intent would be lost and a trace of sadness would be caught in his eyes. The feelings wouldn't quite go away, but now he knew they were unrequited

If you looked at Jade with wide eyes and an unmistakable smile on your face, he'd give you a light smile back, completely concealing the overwhelming joy and warmth he felt inside.

If only you could see the fanfare going on in his mind

Jade would excitedly take you out on various hiking dates and cook up all the mushrooms you guys found later in his dorm

Just because you guys are together now doesn't mean he'll lay off the teasing. AT ALL

He would so enjoy watching you drift off on days when you were tired, offering his shoulder as a headrest

He is very confident showing you his merform, even when you guys were just friends. He has no problem with it at all.

His favorite place to kiss you is along your legs. So long and so perfect for him to leave trails of marks and kisses

His favorite spot to be kissed on is his nape specifically. Its somewhat of a sensitive spot for him.

𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓭 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱

Floyd oh Floyd

Being honest, did he have a clue what it was?

All he knew was that Lil Shrimpy was much too fun to be around

He’d never get tired or bored around them. Even his mood didn’t fluctuate as much when he was with them.

Your spontaneousness and willingness to go along with everything were just few of the many things he unconsciously loved about you

Floyd would also unconsciously get jealous whenever he’d see Little Shrimpy talking to other guys. He wanted to join in the fun too

Floyd has been cooking lots of food for you lately as well, beginning to obstruct his job at Mostro Lounge, leaving Azul at his wit's end

Everyday after school he’d barge in to Ramshackle as if the dorm was his own and take you out to see what kind of things you’d do today

Floyd was always a touchy person, so nobody could really notice when he started to softly squeeze you (he learned it’s called a hug) more often, and find ways to feel and touch your hands

Jade, however, could. He was the first one to know, even before Floyd himself realized what it was. It’s the Tweel 6th sense !

Floyd has shown you his merform multiple times. He’s really proud of it, and loves seeing your reactions to it each time

Because Floyd was absolutely clueless, he would also say things that were horribly incriminating without giving it a thought

Like, for example, if he saw you wearing a new shirt to school that looked flattering on you, he’d comment on it without thinking about it because he genuinely just doesn’t know (or experience often) the concept of love beyond bonds shared between families and friends

He’d also just straight up tell you how much he likes you. It’s really obvious to everyone but him

Floyd’s love language is quality time, physical touch, and surprisingly, acts of service. Doing favors for you and other people around him are just one of the ways he shows he cares. Squeezing you gently feels so special to him since the majority of the physical contact he engages in isn’t usually affectionate

Although, he’s slowly starting to open his eyes.the more time he spends with you the more he realizes you valuable you’ve become to his daily routine. A day without you just isn’t the same.

His favorite part of your was your belly. Flat or round didn’t matter to him. He was perfectly content as long as he he could stuff it full of his cooking

Because of Floyd’s lack of understanding and experience on the matter, it was really up to you to decide if you wanted to warm up to him or not.

If you thought that letting him too close isn’t what you want, you’d have to make it really really clear because if Floyd hasn’t come to terms with his feelings, he won’t handle rejection as easily either. He’ll be really heartbroken that one day, Little Shrimpy decided that it’s time to distance themselves. Although it’ll take trial and error, he’ll understand the message eventually. Floyd can be really intense, and even downright terrifying, but he’ll understand if it’s about you. Do give him time to process

Otherwise, if your intentions align with his, expect Floyd to notice this slowly. However, when he gets the hint, he will reach a whole new level of comfort with you. Really touchy as well. Slowly, it’ll click to him what he’s been feeling. He’ll understand and he’ll really try to treat you the best he can

Expect lots of PDA. It’s become like a second nature to him. He’d stay attached to you all day if he could

He’d take you on the best dates too. It’s a new thing every week. Never ending supply of ideas

Floyd’s favorite place to kiss you is your chest. It’s at perfect height when he lifts you up in his arms

His favorite spot to be kissed on is his neck. It always sends shivers and butterflies. It never fails to surprise him.

~~~~~~

[helluvapoison]

Okay okay I think I got it!!

Imagine the Vees entering like a side room or something and finding cannibal! Reader (literally) tearing into some random person that was caught snooping around by them (reader). How would they react do you think?

No pressure to write this if you don't want too. Love your writing, your recent Zestial one was so cute!!!

-Cannibal Anon :))

Nice To Eat You

[i]

The Vees x Cannibal!Reader

warning: suggestive and dark themes ahead, blood and gore, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism

Admittedly, you’d gotten rather careless with your beloved around. Who can blame you when they make you feel on top of the world? With you at their side they felt a bit untouchable too. More so than usual. However someone had broken into their dressing room and wrote something foul on the mirror. You saw red. This wouldn’t happen again.

Cannibals were rather good at sniffing out something rotten.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Witnessing crocs make a comeback in Hell was the worst sight she’s seen to date

• Blood doesn’t particularly bother her, though she hates the mess of it all

• Despite the jokes shared between the two of you, it was sort of unspoken that you would keep your dietary habits away from your girlfriend

• She couldn’t help the gasp when she looked up from her phone, seeing blood spilling from your mouth

• You stiffened, matching her wide eyed expression

• Fuck, you never wanted her to see you like this

• Whipping around, you spat out the flesh and began furiously wiping your face with your sleeve

• “Stop!” Velvette shouts, daring to rush over and grab your shoulder

• Suppressing a flinch, you freeze at her command but refuse to face her

• “Who’s this then?”

• Your reply is bitter like the taste on your tongue, “The rat.”

• “Good.” You feel her grip on your shoulder tighten, “Make Joanne clean up when you're done. Oh, and dollface? Brush your teeth before you come find me, yeah?”

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He thought he meant it when he said he wouldn’t be grossed out by your food selection

• Though the meal was the same, seeing your entire front drenched in blood, red dripping down your chin was entirely different from date nights with fancy ambience and classy decor

• Shaking his head from side to side, he dials the shock out of his system and forces on a passive expression

• You two have already come so far! He can’t have his date mate tiptoeing around him now

• “Do I need a new assistant?” Vox asks, feigning a disinterested tone

• Your own surprise dilutes slowly, you were so sure Vox was bluffing when he said he could handle this

• He’s rather proud of himself that he was convincing enough to fool you

• “No. S’the bastard who wrote on your mirror.”

• “Excellent! Feed what’s left to Vark, let’s clean you up and go celebrate! Wash that shitty sinner taste out of your mouth with some wine, hm?”

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Unbothered by blood, he likes making you dish out his punishments while he sits back and watches

• “Dinner and a show,” He’ll joke, “Like killing two birds with one stone!”

• As sadistic as he is, Val doesn’t have the patience to draw out torture

• If he wants results, he’ll get them immediately or kill someone in the process

• The two of you are similar in that regard or you would’ve brought the half eaten body to him when the sinner was still kicking and screaming

• Surprise hits his face when he opens the door and fades just as fast

• “Aw,” Val clicks his tongue, “You couldn’t have waited for me, monstruo? You know how much I like to see you eat.”

• You toss a bloodied grin in his direction, “Got hangry. This was the cynic that said your films were shit.”

• He chuckles darkly, leaning over to cup your face and wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb, “What do they think now?”

• “Nothin’ much.” You join his amusement with a breathy laugh

• Stretching your neck up to meet him halfway, Val kisses you right on the lips. His tongue briefly taking over your mouth, swiping away the copper taste and replacing it with his own

• “Come. Let’s get you in the bath, monstrou.”

• You quirk a brow at him, “A real one or a cat bath?”

• Laughing, Valentino taps your nose with an extra finger, “Dealer’s choice.”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ cannibal anon i love you!!! thanks again!!

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Avarice and Arrogance (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Aemond Masterlist | HOTD Masterlist 

Synopsis: Aemond was always confident that he could protect you and his family from any threat, but the Gods had to dole out a lesson for his impunity, and a particularly cruel one at that. 

Warnings: TW! Character death, violence, torture, angst, Aemond being somewhat toxic?? 

Word Count: 2.6K words 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for the reader. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: You guys asked for angst, I delivered an overdose. I hope you enjoy, although I’m not very proud of this one shot. Inspired after overplaying the epic version of Aegon’s Coronation theme. Ramin Djawadi is my true King of the Seven Kingdoms 

wonderful dividers credited to @firefly-graphics

“He whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him!” 

To anyone, Prince Aemond seemed the portrait of composure: his arms clasped behind his back, his expression cool and disinterested. Yet if one looked closely enough, they would see the tension in his jaw, his teeth gritted, his posture bordering more on stiff than of calmness. His lone violet eye glittered as he observed Aegon walking under the raised swords of the knights, looking as recalcitrant as always. 

‘Had that been me…’ he thought bitterly, ‘I would’ve carried myself with pride. The smallfolk would’ve took one look at me and trusted that I had the greatness, the capability, to lead House Targaryen into the apex of our power.’ 

‘And yet,’ Aemond mused to himself as his mother kissed Aegon on the forehead, ‘reality is often disappointing.’

His fists clenched at his sides. It was unfair, his brother was naught but a wastrel, a fool constantly drunk in his cups and oft found buried in the tits of some common whore. What right had he to rule, save for being the firstborn son? How could someone as useless as him be Lord of the Seven Kingdoms? Even with their grandsire by his side giving him counsel, when his half sister received word of the coronation, and of their father’s death…Aemond dreaded to think what would happen. Would Aegon be able to rise up to the defence of their family?

Aemond took a deep breath to steady himself, when suddenly, he felt a warm hand grasping his, gently unclenching his fingers from his tightly formed fist. Surprised, he looked over to the unexpected source of comfort. His lady wife stood next to him, an indifferent expression on her lovely face as she kept her eyes fixed on the smallfolk. He noticed that she was holding his sweet sister, Helaena’s hand in her other hand, and his mind halted in its baleful, raging course to settle on her instead, admiring her. 

My beautiful, brilliant lady wife. 

She would’ve been the most wonderful queen, he thought, and the wave of resentment began its course once more. As if sensing the switch in Aemond’s thoughts, she squeezed his hand lightly in hers. Aemond marvelled at his wife, amazed at how she always could sense the slightest shifts in his moods, even when her eyes were not on him. And just like that, the worry and the resentment fell away, and his envy for his brother became a little easier to bear, even just for that moment. 

But…he felt a sense of strangeness creep over him as he took in his wife’s features. Her face was impassive, but it was hard and cold, as if she did not approve of this very scene. As Aegon raised Blackfyre and rallied the crowd, and his wife squeezed Helaena’s hand tighter, Aemond realised that mayhaps her gesture was not done solely out of comfort, but for anxiety.

For fear. 

You were chewing on your bottom lip, Helaena’s hand still in yours as you both stewed in contemplative silence, each engulfed with thoughts and worries of your own. Aemond frowned as he watched his sister and his beloved. Aegon had ridden in a separate wheelhouse with their mother and grandsire, and mayhaps it was for the better, given the gloomy atmosphere. 

When they were back in the safety of their apartments, Aemond followed his wife’s every movement in rapt attention. You began unravelling the tight updo that your hair was in, running your hands through your long locks pensively. It was done now…you were true traitors to the Crown. You sighed, wanting nothing more than to crawl in bed and hope that this was nothing but an unpleasant dream. 

Suddenly, you felt warm arms engulfing you from behind. Aemond dropped his chin onto his beloved’s shoulder as he embraced her, breathing in her scent. “Tell me what troubles you, my love,” his voice husky. 

You shook your head slightly, trying to mask your thoughts. “Tis nothing, my love. I swear it.” 

Aemond chuckled, a dark and soft sound. “Liar.” 

He spun his beloved round to face him, taking note of her expression. “I know you are worried,” his voice was soft, “We are husband and wife, my love. Whatever troubles you hold, I want to know all of it. We swore before the Gods, did we not? To share each other’s burdens? We will honour our vows, do we not?” 

Your lips twisted slightly, trying not to grimace. “If vows were of any matter to us, then we would not have committed such a grave sin.” Aemond frowned, the reasons for his wife’s anxiety suddenly becoming apparent to him. “Aegon is the King now,” he reminded her, “My father named him so.” 

You let out a humourless snort. “He was an old man, half senile and drunk on the Milk of Poppy.” Aemond opened his mouth as if to protest, but you continued before he could. “The late king had named Rhaenyra as his heir. Even when the Stranger drew close, he had forsaken his health and braved through his pain to uphold Rhaenyra’s claim during Vaemond’s speech. Does the Hand expect all of Westeros to believe the King changed his mind all of a sudden on his deathbed? It is insanity, and even a deaf fool would know better.” 

“Enough,” Aemond’s voice was low, tinged with warning. “You will not insult my grandsire like this. It is done now, and that is the truth.” You persisted, however. “Putting that aside, Rhaenyra will seek to have all our heads when the news breaks. How can your grandsire be as foolish as to put all of us in danger like this?” 

Aemond arched a brow, “Is that what you’re worried about?” “Are you not worried about that?” Aemond laughed, “We have dragons, my love. I should think Vhagar, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre are enough to defend us. That whore on Dragonstone will soon realise that she can get angry, and she can spit and curse all she wants, but she cannot match against our might.” 

You looked unconvinced, which irked Aemond a little. Why was she so worried? “Do not tell me,” his voice was low with menace, “That you are loyal to Rhaenyra. That you are sympathetic to that whore’s cause.” You kept mum, but your eyes told Aemond everything he needed to know. He snarled, moving to pin you against the wall. 

Your eyes widened with panic, your hands moving to push Aemond away, but he held your wrists in a vice grip. You had never seen him so angry with you before. “You are my wife,” he hissed angrily, “Your priorities should lie with me, with my family. Our family. In keeping us safe from that accursed whore and my uncle.” “And making Aegon king, usurping the rightful queen, is supposed to keep us safe?” You argued, unintimidated. “Have you lost all your senses, Aemond? We are traitors! Usurpers! You claim protecting your family is your priority, but yet you allow your grandsire to risk our lives for his mad grab for power!” Aemond’s grip tightened on your wrists, causing you to wince and fall silent. Aemond took notice of that, but he couldn’t let you go. Not just yet. He needed to make his point. 

“I said, do not speak of my grandsire in that manner,” he seethed. “He is my family, and I will not tolerate you insulting him.” He took a deep breath, letting go of his wife’s wrists, and she took the chance to push him away before fleeing to their bed. He sighed and sat down next to her, but she only moved away and folded her arms, turning her back on him. He heard a soft sniffle, and he realised with horror that she was crying. He had made her cry. 

A pang of guilt shot through Aemond’s heart, and he tentatively reached out to put his hands on her shoulders, dismayed when she flinched away from his touch. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, my love,” he said quietly, “I got carried away, and I hurt you. I apologise for that.” He saw her shoulders lose some of their tension at his apology, and a glimmer of hope shone in his violet eye. Mayhaps he could make her see his viewpoint after all. He knew of her house’s loyalty to Rhaenyra’s claim, and how she might be swayed to support Rhaenyra’s claim, but she had to see. That this was the best for their family. 

“My love…” he bit his lip, “I know my words were harsh, but it is true. What is done is done. Even if I dislike Aegon being on the throne, he is my brother. If Rhaenyra had taken the throne, she would’ve had us executed. She would not suffer any presence that could be a threat to her claim to the throne. Even if she did not, there is no doubt Daemon would.” He took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Rhaenyra is impulsive, violent and reckless. You saw how she took off Vaemond’s head when his only crime was speaking the truth. Her son blinded me when we were naught but boys,” Aemond’s voice became hard. “If we allow her to ascend the throne, that means that the Strong bastard, Jace, would ascend the throne after her. Do you really think the realm would really bow before him?” 

Your hard gaze softened a little, and Aemond saw a window of opportunity. “Think rationally, my love,” Aemond pleaded softly, “My father may have named Rhaenyra the heir, but it is an irreplaceable fact that the lords of Westeros would never bow before her. The Seven Kingdoms would plunge into chaos, do you really want that?” Aemond raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “I know you’re afraid of Rhaenyra’s wrath, but I ask of you to trust me. Trust that I will keep us safe, no matter what.” 

“...I’m not sure if you can, Aemond.” Aemond’s heart dropped, “Whatever do you mean?” You finally turned to face him, and he was alarmed when he took note of the tears glistening at the corner of your eyes. “Aemond…I’m with child. For nearly three moons now.” 

Aemond swore his heart stopped at that very moment. But his shock only lasted briefly before he pulled you into his arms, voice filled with excitement and wonder, “You’re with child? Our child?” When he broke the embrace, you were surprised to see the corner of his violet eye wet. Aemond dropped to his knees in front of you, stroking his hand over your stomach reverently, in disbelief almost. “We’re going to be parents…” he murmured, “I’m going to be a father.” 

But even in Aemond’s joy, you could not find it in yourself to smile. Not with the threat of the impending succession war. Aemond noticed your discomfort, but nothing could take away the happiness he felt at the moment. “My love, you don’t have to be afraid,” his voice was reassuring, “I swear on my honour, on the Old Gods and the New, on the Seven and all my ancestors, that I would burn the world to ashes on Vhagar before I let anyone lay a finger on you or our child.” He took your hand, cradling it in his, tilting his head upwards, a pleading look in his eye, for you to believe in him, to trust him to keep you safe. 

“But even all the dragons in this world will not keep us from reaping the fate we sowed,” you said quietly, eyes never leaving Aemond’s. “The gods will strike us down for our treason.” 

Aemond rolled his eye, exasperated that his wife just didn’t seem to grasp the true extent of their power. “We are Targaryens, my love,” Aemond said self-assuredly. “We possess dragons, the largest, most dangerous and powerful creatures in the world. The gods may try as they might, but they can never strike us down. Seven hells, I would dare say we are the gods, my love,” Aemond chuckled at how your eyes widened at his brazen words. “For what other than a god can mount a dragon, and command it?” “Don’t say things like that, Aemond,” you were aghast, “The Seven will-” 

“Fuck the Seven,” Aemond said bluntly. “When men pray, the Gods never answer. Why should we fear the consequences inflicted upon us by some unknown higher power?” He resumed his seat on their bed, pulling you back into his embrace and gently stroking your hair. “We need not fear the Gods, my love,” he murmured softly. “You will see soon enough, when war comes, and the Gods do nothing to interfere, then you will come to revere them less. In the meantime, you will come to see who the true gods are, when our dragons raze the earth and win this godforsaken war.” 

It was known to all that the gods despise hubris, and perhaps they were watching that evening, when you laid your head on Aemond’s chest with a sigh and allowed him to soothe and comfort you, making promises that he would keep you safe no matter what. 

Aemond had been so sure in his words, so confident in his beliefs and in his abilities, and blinded by his ego. Mayhaps this was what drove him when he bade Vhagar prowl around Lucerys Velaryon and his dragon Arrax in the stormy skies of Storms’ End, shouting for the Strong bastard to repay the debt he owed. 

Mayhaps his pride was what had blinded him to the possibility that he could never keep his family safe after his act of kinslaying. 

But he knew for sure that he had regretted making an enemy of the gods when he saw you, eyes wide with fear, a sharp dragonglass blade to your throat as you were held hostage by some cutpurse. An eye for an eye, a son for a son, the cutpurse had grinned, before slitting your throat and lodging the dagger into your stomach. 

It mattered not how much Aemond had howled with grief as he held your lifeless frame in his arms, begging for you to wake up. It mattered not when Aemond personally tortured your assassin with the most vicious methods he could devise, flaying every inch of skin from his body until he had expired. Even in death, he was not spared of Aemond’s wrath. His body was marked with incisions when it was finally fed to Vhagar, courtesy of Aemond cutting out his heart and crushing it with his bare hands. It mattered not when Aemond had sworn to avenge you no matter the cost, to cut down Daemon Targaryen and give him the same treatment he had for the cutpurse. It took the combined efforts of the Queen Dowager, Queen Helaena, King Aegon, the Hand, and many other lords and knights of the Kingsguard to prevent him from mounting Vhagar upon the cutpurse’s death to fly to Dragonstone. A fool’s folly, they called it, but Aemond had drawn his sword and snarled at them to get out of his way, lest they wish to be the recipient of Vhagar’s flames. It was only when Alicent motioned for Ser Criston to deliver a blow that rendered Aemond unconscious that they could restrain him at all. 

A part of Aemond had died that day, and he rained curses upon the Seven, on his uncle, on his wretched half-sister as he took his seat in the Small Council, being the advocate for absolute and brutal violence against the Blacks. And yet he did not repent for looking down upon the gods, not even till the day when he faced his uncle Daemon in battle and died in the cursed halls of Harrenhal. Another casualty of the Dance of the Dragons. 

After all, even the Valyrian dragonlords of old had not been able to escape the Stranger’s clutches when death came for them. And Aemond Targaryen was no different. 

...i’m very sorry :( but I swear, happier Aemond one shots are coming 😭

Aemond General Taglist: @aiyaiy​ 

Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) thank you for reading! 💗

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: When MC has to reject someone painfully

~ is this oddly specific? yes. is writing this getting me through an impossible workday and potential nervous breakdown? also yes. is there any other way I'd be able to write right now? ... probably not ~

-- to set the scene --

You had hoped that making it clear you only see them as a friend would work. You had hoped that expressing your disinterest in a new romance multiple times would work. You had hoped that encouraging them towards other people and reiterating that you are not the gender they are attracted to would work.

... it did not work.

It takes an hour of being misgendered and suppressing your PTSD to counter every argument they propose for why you should reconsider (and to make it clear, again, that you really aren't the person for them) before they give up and walk away, and there's still five hours left before you can go home. You're starting to feel a little nauseated from the whole ordeal and seriously contemplating telling everyone you're sick and leaving early. Just as you're about to give up, you see the familiar face of your beloved walk into the room for a surprise visit.

Julian

He's already starting his story from across the room about how terrible the traffic was but how worthwhile the suffering is if it means he gets to see your face and - speaking of your face -

That is a very tight smile, he can tell something's not right

His voice dies mid-sentence before he's settling in front of you with a serious expression on his face. "What's troubling you, MC?"

Won't leave you alone until you either tell him or make it clear that you genuinely don't want to talk about it

If you do tell him about it right away, you're about to watch him get very angry on your behalf (though he won't lose his composure - his main goal is to comfort you)

Will go full protector mode. You keep getting reminded of the way Malak paces and ruffles his feathers when he's upset

If you want to stay and finish your tasks, he'll leave you to it, but only after giving you one of his signature all-encompassing hugs

Stops by half an hour later with a raunchy love letter to read in front of "the miscreant" in case you have any more trouble from them

Rants about it to everyone he meets that afternoon. By the time you get home that evening Mazelinka has already heard about it and sent over some comfort soup for dinner

Asra

Knows something's up as soon as they walk in. Doesn't want to cause a scene, but also doesn't care two whits about anything keeping them from comforting you

Yes he's hugging you regardless of who can see. No he's not letting go until he's sure you feel safe and loved and supported

Will indirectly ask what's wrong and if you feel okay telling them about it. Won't push you to or not to talk either way

If you tell him right away, he'll silently decide that he's spending the rest of the day at your side. Makes himself comfortable until you're either ready to go home or you tell him that you've got this

May or may not teasingly suggest leaving an obvious hickey on your neck. Will enthusiastically follow through if you allow it

If "the nuisance" walks in while they're with you, they'll practically plaster themself to your side (to the extent that you're comfortable with) and send them judgemental glances the whole time

Starts making a point of dropping by every day to bring you a snack or a trinket and drop a kiss on your cheek

Certainly not to let everyone you spend your time around know that you're happily taken

And definitely not to harmlessly prank "the nuisance"

Showers you with gender affirming compliments for months

Nadia

She's so intuitive, the whole reason she decided to stop by so abruptly was because she suddenly felt worried for you

Glad she listened to her gut as soon as she sets eyes on you because you are clearly not thriving and she can't have that

"MC, my darling, you look perturbed. What's the matter?"

The difficult thing about being asked questions by a woman in leadership is that even when she's not trying to get an answer out of someone, it's still almost impossible to dodge her questions

Her face will slowly darken and twist with disgust as your story continues, but her grip on your hands remains gentle and cool

Asks you how long it's going to be until you can come home. Then asks what would be involved in bringing you home sooner

Makes the arrangements for you to come home with her right now

Does all of the above while either holding your hand, wrapping her arm around your waist, looping your arm through hers, or some combination of all three

Makes sure to send you off every morning with a lipstick print on your cheek and a love note in your pocket

May or may not start collecting info on "that scoundrel"

May or may not start subtly asking if you've had any further communication or trouble with them at the end of every day

Muriel

Knows from your body language that you're uncomfortable and upset as soon as he sees you and briefly wonders if it's his fault

As soon as your face lights up with relief on seeing him, though, he knows that's not the case and starts looking around for whatever is causing you this much distress. He can't see anything

Well, now he's uneasy too

Might ask "what's wrong?" but is more likely to offer you a big, comforting hug and then look at you with such loving worried eyes that you crack and spill everything in the first five minutes

Listens closely while you talk, only giving small nods of acknowledgement and gentle encouraging squeezes

Makes no effort to fix his resting bitch face towards anybody that walks by or tries to approach you. Here's not here for them, he's here for you, and one of them potentially caused all of this

Offers to stay nearby for the rest of the day (which is quite the sacrifice on his introverted part, mind you) if it will help you feel safe and remember that you're loved and accepted as you are

Makes sure to have all your favorite grounding and soothing things laid out when you get home. (comfy clothes? check. comfort food? check. thick furs and fluffy blankets? check. snuggles? ... check)

Sends a bouquet of wildflowers with you every morning now

Portia

So excited to surprise you that she doesn't realize how overwhelmed you are until she gives you her signature bear hug and notices that you're shaking all over

Slowly steps back, eyes widening with concern as she looks you over and then steps back in to wrap you in a gentler hug

"Hey, you okay? Talk to me, MC, what's wrong?"

Absolutely infuriated the longer you speak. By the time you've told her everything, she's got tears in her eyes and seems ready to rip "that bastard" a new one. (She doesn't, she squeezes you instead)

Showers you with aggressive gender affirming compliments instead and starts asking if you need anything

She brought snacks. Eat the snacks. She'll take care of the rest

You'll have to stop her from storming off to a find a person she's never met before and giving them a piece of her mind

Squeezes your hands and tells you how much she loves you and how proud of you she is before stepping back and loudly calling you her amazing perfect partner so everyone hears her

She has to leave shortly because her schedule is packed full but she'll be back every half hour to check in on you and bring you a snack and kiss you where everyone can see her

Comes up with all kinds of curses for "that bastard"

Lucio

He doesn't know and he has no way of knowing because he's himself. You'll either have to visibly cry or tell him yourself

And if you do want to tell him right away, well, you're going to have to wait until he finishes loudly expressing how happy he is to see you and how much he missed you

Because that's it, that's what he does every single time he sees you regardless of the context (even at a funeral, once, it was unfortunate)

And anyways, who wouldn't want to brag about being the one MC chose? That's the world's greatest honor! He'll announce it from the rooftops if he feels like it!

Which is how Lucio obliviously solves most of your problem before you even have the chance to tell him about it. Everyone in your vicinity knows you're taken by someone who takes you seriously

And who wouldn't be at least a little cheered up by a genuine greeting like that? That "human oopsie" has nothing on him

When you do tell him, he's shocked. How dare someone treat you like that! That is not MC-appropriate behavior

He's tempted to hunt them down and challenge them to some kind of competition so they'll be suitably humbled and leave you alone

He settles for peacocking around you several times a week during lunch so the "human oopsie" knows what they're up against

[buttersmama]

HERO?

Yn the infamous villain comes back from the dead with a surprise?!

The public frets about their hero's (taehyun) wellbeing but are met with disappointment

—very short, taehyun's name is mentioned like in the very last line(?)

The black screen flickered on, forcing the public to stop in their tracks to observe the unusual occurrence. The illuminated screen depicted the infamous villain- yn. The cheers that were being sung in the victory of their beloved ‘hero’ seconds ago were now silent pleas for help. Just seconds ago, they had witnessed the downfall of the notorious man so why no- how was he still alive?

“hey now,” the villain broke the silence, his voice booming through the sound system. “what happened to all the joy? Aw aren’t you all happy to see me healthy and alive?”

His words hung heavily in the air, a chilling reminder that their worst fears had not been realized. The city had believed they had finally triumphed over the menace that was YN, but his return shattered their illusions and sent shockwaves of terror through the crowd.

The villain laughed in their faces, mocking them not even bothering to hide how he reveled in their disbelief.

“come on now, surely you all can’t be this surprised.” He rested his face on the palm of his hand, tilting his head ever so slightly. “there’s no way I’d ever go down that easily that too in front of the public?” he says rolling his eyes.

A second passes by, and the thumping heartbeats of the citizens only seem to accelerate. The villain turns his head to the darkness behind him, muttering something under his breath causing an uproar of curiosity to wash over everyone.

Yn faces the camera back again, tutting. “I know you all are just dying to know how I did it, and as much as i'd love to take all the credit, I can’t.” he continues, pursing his lips at the end.

Hushed whispers spread like wildfire once again, some questioning about their hero’s whereabouts and well being while the others deciphering about what yn meant.

A wide smile finds its way to yn, playful glint evident on his features. “you all seem to have fun talking among yourselves, leaving me all alone” yn says with a pout— teasing.

“let me give you all a surprise tho!”

Yn swivels the camera to a corner of the room, a shadowed face gets caught, barely visible. “damn you, yn. When will you ever listen to what I say?” the shadow says.

As the voice crackles through the speakers, the crowd tenses at the familiar tone and enunciation. There was absolutely no way. The citizens couldn’t believe their ears or rather didn’t want to believe the reality unfolding before them.

The villain adjusted the light, the few rays shining on the person’s face revealed the face of their beloved hero. Standing with arms crossed as his face adorned a disinterested look. The audience gasped at the revelation once again, feeling utterly betrayed.

Yn’s face pops back again leaning on the hero’s shoulder, his expression not hiding any of his delight. “guess even your hero prefers me over you all. Right hyunnie?” yn asks eyes wide.

[ckret2]

*pulls up a chair, turns it backwards, and straddles it with my arms casually resting on the back*

Hi guys. We're gonna talk about vore. In a serious and non-judgmental manner. For five minutes we'll treat it like it's not a joke kink. Thanks.

So something not all of you know about me is I'm asexual; and something probably even less of you know about me is that I'm the kind of asexual who's fascinated by sexuality and kink, like an anthropologist studying a culture with norms and beliefs that are foreign to me. I'm intrigued by what makes people's sexualities tick and what it is that appeals to them about kinks that outsiders see as bizarre or completely incomprehensible.

I maintain a strict "we don't kinkshame here" policy; I'm personally disinterested in but comfortable discussing niche kinks ranging from inflatable pool toys to the earlier-mentioned oculolinctus; and I know that when I have a writing question like "what does poop taste like" oftentimes the most detailed and helpful information will come from people with fetishes that make most of the Internet gasp in horror, and I deeply appreciate their invaluable contributions.

So when I express surprise that I got someone into vore, it's because I have a specific idea about what vore entails that comes from—you guessed it—seeing lots of vore art.

From what I've witnessed, in most cases, it takes more than just "eroticized cannibalism" to make a work "vore." Like if two cannibals are having a sexually-charged dinner over a delicious homecooked meal that we know was once human, there is something kinky going on here, and the cannibalism—the knowledge of a life ended, the taboo, the horror—is part of that kinkiness; but if you ask how many people are engaged in this sexual encounter, the automatic answer is "two," the couple eating. Not "three." The meal isn't humanized. It's an edible sex toy, a prop. It's meat.

To my mind, "erotic cannibalism" isn't "vore" until the meal is a person. That doesn't just mean giving them dialogue; but treating them as a participant in the sexual encounter. Either the subject from whose perspective we are to view the encounter, or the object of desire on whom our erotic gaze is meant to linger.

Think of it this way: if you replace the human meat with beef, is it now just a story about eating steak? Then it's not vore. On the other hand, does it now inherently become a story about eating an anthro cow, because the "beef" had enough personhood that you can't consider it "just" a cow? That's vore.

Consuming a human(oid) body doesn't constitute vore, but rather consuming a human(oid) life. A consciousness—an identity—must be swallowed. If that's missing from the encounter (say, if someone is devoured but their personhood is ignored by the creator as irrelevant; or if parts of a person are consumed, but their seat of identity—their mind, their soul—remains undevoured), then to me it's not yet vore. It's "just" cannibalism.

And so—by my own understanding of vore—I've never written vore.

But like on the other hand I have written about a cannibal who gets off to biting off chunks of his lover's flesh because he fantasizes about consuming his still-beating heart to make his beloved a part of himself; so like, okay, sure, let's be real here, I've gotten close enough to count.

The fact that it doesn't "feel" like vore to me until a life (as opposed to mere flesh) has been swallowed doesn't mean that to other people what I've written won't hit the same buttons that vore hits for them—because the edges of any one person's sexuality are nothing if not nuanced and blobby and blurry and no two people's ideas of what gets them off (and thus no two people's ideas of what makes for a specific kink) will ever be exactly the same.

All of which is to say:

Yeah I was genuinely surprised when somebody said I got them into vore lmao, legitimately my first reaction was "how tf did I get somebody into a kink I myself don't have?" BUT the fact that I can "feel" a hard dividing line between "vore" and "horny cannibalism that isn't vore" doesn't mean that other people feel it's there. It's interesting and enlightening to hear that for somebody, there is no difference in what I wrote, and I did actually, genuinely introduce them to a kink I don't see myself as sharing. I think it's kinda neat.

(So, anon who wrote in, if you're still around: I hope my surprise didn't come across as derision! I was genuinely fascinated to hear that. And I do appreciate getting this random opportunity to talk about unusual kinks on main.)

Okay, lecture over, class dismissed. Y'all can go about your day.

[ravencromwell]

Ask game: 1, 4, and 20 for Holland

Will do the Vor ones tomorrow!!!!! But for now:

* Rolls up sleeves*

1. First Impression: there's a funny and a serious answer to this.

Y'know how I'm always saying I'm terrible at predicting things? Before I picked ADSOM up, I went looking for ADSOM queer characters or something of the like. And discovered Rhy Maresh, about whom I only knew: his being gay plays a small part in the first book and a much larger one in the next two. So, I'm skimming along and this dude comes into Rhy's room and is all: "I have been to your father for business. I come to you for pleasure."

And my little May December loving heart—which also adores enemies to lovers? Fair somersaulted with joy as I read all about how this "Holland" worked for a rival kingdom. I was _amped up for this slow-burn where they had a long-term thing going on Holland's diplomatic missions that was secret from everyone even Rhy's brother, though I suspected maybe Kell guessed because he sure thought about this Holland a lot, which was only natural if you kinda thought he was gonna be your future brother-inn-law, right?

I can barely type this for laughing at how badly! I got the character dynamics wrong but like: Rhy was so _down! for flirting with him and the guard had said he was dangerous, with very cold, hollow eyes and I couldn't understand how Rhy could possibly be so casual about Holland being in his room if he didn't know something we were missing. (Only later did I learn that Rhy, dearest beloved, if confronted with a suddenly talking tree or wall: would aggressively flirt and charm the leaves/stone off it, only asking how it came to have the remarkable ability of speech after he discovered if it was in fact hot to kiss a tree or wall.)

The serious answer: from the moment I read the lines: "The Antari's eyes slid over the scene—the blood, the ink, the tortured commoner— expression lodged between distant surprise and disinterest. Holland liked to play at being hollow, but Athos knew it was a ruse. He might have feigned numbness, but he was hardly immune to sensation." followed swiftly by "What should I do with him?" even after Athos's "we're not too late" makes clear he expected Holland to follow him instead of help Beloc, I was just like _mine please join the cadre of my best beloveds and let me slay all your enemies (or set it up so that you can be the one to slay Athos do not fucking get me started on Holland being denied his vengeance we will be here all year).

Look, I know there are a dozen different ways to read that scene. I know you can think Holland was simply imagining himself there, or so deeply traumatized Athos was wrong and he didn't give a fuck. But those lines? Combined with Athos' latter staring for tells and seeing "Anger, pain, defiance" at the corner of Holland's mouth and the crease of his eye? Viscerally read as the only sort of solidarity Holland could show to this kid who was about to be a fellow abuse survivor. It didn't _work, but I will die on the fucking hill his asking "What do I do with him?" was a bid to get Beloc out of the frame for the night, because that sort of thing worked often when Athos was distracted.

And so, Holland showing solidarity with Maktahns, even when he didn't actually have the agency to do shit, became an absolute bedrock part of my characterization.

[The two stellar fannish examples of Holland's love for Maktahns in all their bloody glory are Snake Charmer, where he protects Nasi, and Green and Pleasant Lands, where Holland absolutely loses his shit in a contained fashion over Kell criticizing a (quite bleak) ritual. Just fucking peak characterization]

4. how many people do I ship them with? When reading, I'm down for absolutely _anything or _anyone with good Holland characterization. For what I'm likely to write: four. Vor and Tal, which you know. But I'm also deeply. deeply fond of a Holland Ojka arc where she follows him to Red and has to learn how to separate the man and the king, as well as the king and Osaron and properly falls for the man, rather than the king. And I have a deep affection for the Holland Rhy thing you gave me the excuse to write (it's coming at end of semester!!!): a Rhy who deeply misses Alucard and just getting to be a _person rather than a prince. Not even necessarily a fully rounded person who has in-depth conversations with his bed-mate (I mean. he misses that, too but he's not getting it with Holland and that's fine). Just someone from whom all the other party wants is thorough debauchery rather than a tumble and maybe a court appointment for their niece and maybe their friend's brother etc. "You draw them like flies," Holland says once, and Rhy doesn't understand why his laugh is bitter and wistful and it's probably cruel to think of people like insects, because he likes people most of the time he truly does. But also yes, he's so tired of only being the thing from which people take and take and take. And a Holland who wants an antidote to the Danes they probably won't kill who isn't Kell because his desperation to _know Holland is so sharp and Holland isn't here for soul-bearing hour.

20. Weird headcanon: Not weird so much as the one I'm thinking about most today:

It was Alox who ensured Holland could read. Alox has heard rumors that in corners of the city, books can be found. And these Antari, who his brother is slowly becoming one of as his eye turns were once the greatest magicians in the land. People like that like to hear themselves talk, so they probably like to read each other's blather too. Which means his brother has to read, even if Alox never had any use beyond learning the runes for binding so he wasn't cheated out of an inking when he could afford to capture magic.

The year before he decides Holland has to die, he fetches and carries for an old, ill man in a slightly richer district—only for his brother would he carry a dying man's shit down three flights of stairs—in exchange for paper with all the runes on it and some lessons on their sounds. Does his best to teach Holl second-hand, even though what he really wants is a drink—maybe Kosh, maybe blood for a hit of magic he'll decide when he meets his friends later—. Bastard actually leaves Alox two whole intact books when he dies. After that, well Holl never could turn down a challenge. He tosses 'em over and lets him start sounding it all out.

[neverhangd]

No sooner had the mooring been tied off then Anne was ashore, darting past the last of the pre-dawn watch and back into the streets of her beloved Nassau. Despite all the tragedy of the last few years, even of the last few months she’d spent here!, Anne finds excitement and purpose back in this city. Founding spot and capital of the Republic of fucking Pirates, the last port she’d called home in years and the start of the woman she is today, Nassau (indeed, all of New Providence!) feels holy in her irreligious heart.

She winds through alleys and roads with their slipshod paving stones, following her feet as muscle memory alone carries her towards her destination. She stops only once on her journey, at a public posting board. It was a source of great amusement among the locals, hanging wanted posters of infamous pirates and guessing what the crown was paying for them, or what they would pay after this or that misadventure. A reviled image hangs on the board now, one that stopped Anne every time she looked on its familiar, ugly face. She plucks it from the board, shaking a bit at the sight of it. A bland, generic face stares up from the page, dark curls held back by a strangely angled hat. The image features a pistol in hand, as if that had ever been her favored weapon! If it weren’t for the hair, the hat, the trousers, the naked breasts—well. Anne is right in saying that any redhead with a pistol in hand could be taken for Anne Bonny.* She’s never felt so giddy before in all her life!

Anne stuffs the wanted poster into her coat and makes the mistake of glancing up. She’d thought to make sure there’s nobody else around—imagine the laughingstock of a pirate taking down their own poster in Nassau, of all places!—but in so doing sees the second to last face she expected to be staring at her from the board. She’s slow to straighten up under the unseeing stare of his surprisingly accurate eyes. The rest of him looks just a touch…wrong—which is as surprising as her own poster’s mismatch, given how memorably attractive he is. Really, more people could probably describe Tryck from memory than could describe Anne, and certainly more did Jack, given the uncanny nature of the sketch on his posters. So how is Tryck’s so…only passingly like him? Except around the eyes. (Eerily like his, really.) It’s a shame. Or maybe a blessing.

She could feel bad about the decision she’d made for him, but there’s no point in that. With nothing to gain in sharing it and her own freedom on the line, making it for him had made more sense than asking. Risking input on an iffy-at-best plan. There isn’t time to come up with a second idea!

And there’s no going back now even if there was. Not when the morning sun is well and truly upon Nassau, not after she’d slipped out at the dawn change. The captain had expressed his disinterest in cutting Anne loose of her contract so early, and so Anne had needed to slip off—there and then!—without anyone to see her after her chat with the captain. So long as she disappeared while Tryck was among witnesses, there’d be no holding him in contempt, allowing him to break his contract the natural way, if he so wished. Being free of her made a free man of him, so long as his eyes never clapped her after they settled down to sleep on the borrowed mattress in the hold. Even if that was found and forced out, she’d been seen long after that, ducking into the captain’s quarters. Just leaving the note had been risky enough, but she’d expected no less from the moment she’d realized the captain’s intent.

Whatever Tryck did now, he did on his own accord. And as long as Anne’s disappearance couldn’t be linked to him, it stayed that way. His contract was at its conclusion, and there was no legal contempt to find him in as long as Anne stayed out of it until it was done.

…besides, she couldn’t guarantee Jackie would feel the same charity for her if she had Tryck at her side. The next few hours would determine Anne’s fate, and a lot of it depended on Spanish Jackie feeling the same charity that she did a few years ago, though in a slightly different way. That and a few sacks of twice-stolen loot are all Anne has to barter with, and Spanish Jackie isn’t famous for her charity work.

Anne forces herself to look away from the poster, to figure her way again. She holds the side of the board, never realizing it’s the name half of her own poster tickling her palm before she walks off. Left, left…right…right! Because the side alley’s blocked the other way, and if she “ever need that favor returned, knock on my private door, and fucking wait,” in the words of the woman herself. Hopefully that holds water all these years later.

*OOC infodumping and image below.

I headcanon that this was her wanted poster (it probably wasn’t) because it cracks me up to think of this publicly available, romanticized image of her making approximately zero use of her more obvious features in favor of being 18th century misogynists about it. I know I have mentioned this before, but I refuse to shut up about it.

@neverhangd

The handwriting is neat and tidy to a surprising degree, an elegant cursive script that should have no place on the torn and yellowed paper.

When we reach our next destination, I intend to leave—with or without the captain’s approval. I can’t ask you to come with me. There’s no coin to be made there. But this last adventure has taught me a few things, like that my heart isn’t as dead as I thought it to be. That there are people out there capable of treating others kindly, even me. That there are even some poor fucks who can look at me find beauty there. Thank you for teaching me those things. I think I love you. I’m all out of parchment now, so I suppose I just get to live with that. Good-bye and good luck. Signed, A Friend

Tryck had found the letter waiting for him on his hammock as they were making port in Nassau. He had recognized her script even if she didn't properly sign it. He'd seen it enough times, when she was writing in the ledgers during the times they were left alone on the ship.

He honestly has no idea how to feel as he reads the words over and over again, except that he doesn't want her to go. He doesn't want her to leave him on the ship with the rest of the crew that could care less about him except as a place to plug their pegs. He serves no loyalty to the Captain, only on the ship to avoid arrest in certain ports.

In Nassau, there are no bounties or warrants on him, and he knows Anne knows that, so he wonders... why would she say her goodbyes, rather than ask him to come along?

It's a question he needs answered, and so he packs what little belongings he actually has (violin, a few clothes, a couple of books) and carries them off the ship without a word to the crew.

How far has she gone, how long will he have to look for her? He doesn't much care, he'll search the entire port and beyond if he has to.

There's not a chance he's going to let his Fiery Lass get away.

[daechwitatamic]

WWH POV Drabble: I would like to request from Chapter 1 Tae's POV at the party, wanna know what was he thinking with his spider facts, also was it love at first sight?

What Was Hidden 

POV Drabble #1: Steps

WC: 4k

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, flashbacks to a car accident, lowkey references to living with ptsd, taehyung is a poor baby :(

The request: 

In addition to @pamzn I also received the same request from my beloved palm tree anon!

I hope you both enjoy this and I’m sorry for making it sort of painful lololol

A/N: This references Chapter 1 and early Chapter 2. :) unbeta’d, pls lemme know if you find any nonsense that doesn’t belong

Taehyung starts the night in Jin’s basement. He’s standing in the corner, talking with Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook when it happens. A group of girls come down the stairs, and he turns to look. A clear view of everyone who enters the basement is the main reason the guys always stake out that corner in the first place. First dibs, and all that.

Taehyung recognizes the first girl - her name is Bridget, she lives on campus. She’s friends with Jin and Jungkook, and Taehyung’s talked to her a few times at parties. The three girls with her, he doesn’t know. 

And what a shame, because damn, the girl in the middle almost takes his fucking breath away. 

Game on, he thinks, feeling a thrill shimmer all the way down to his toes as the girls make their way over. 

Bridget makes noisy hellos, hugging Jin around the neck and then turning to grin at the rest of the guys. 

“These are my roommates,” she says, waving a hand behind here, where the other girls stand close together, looking around. “Y/N and Kiko. And this is Y/N’s friend from home, Nina.” The girl in the glasses - Kiko, apparently - looks uneasy, but the other one - the angel that has Taehyung’s heart flopping like a fish on dry land - looks around with a bored, flat expression. The third girl, the one who isn’t from campus, tucks her curly hair behind her ear and scans the room, shark-like. Taehyung immediately starts trying to decide if his play with the angel should be getting her to laugh, or if he should try matching her I’m too good to be here energy. 

Bridget rattles off the guys’ names, and Kiko makes eye-contact with each of them, but you and your friend are watching the pong tables. The two of you wear your practiced disinterest with such a perfect synchronism that Taehyung can see the years of history between you easily. 

It’s barely even a minute later when your friend takes your hand and drags you to the pong table. Taehyung sits back, giving his aching leg a rest, sipping at his drink and watching you play with interest. By the end of your first round, which you and Nina win, things have already shifted in Taehyung’s little corner.

Bridget, Jin, and Jungkook had gone upstairs to refill their drinks and hadn’t returned, despite Jungkook promising to bring Taehyung a refill. Next to him, Yoongi is talking to the remaining roommate, the one with the glasses. Taehyung watches this with surprise; Yoongi usually disappears about a third of the way through the night at these parties. He never stays out in the crowd chatting with girls. 

Not wanting to encroach or ruin their moment, Taehyung subtly moves away, crossing the basement and perching on the arm of a couch next to a group of guys that are in his frat. He hops into their conversation easily, but his eyes are still on you over at the beer pong table, taking in the way you narrow your eyes before each throw, the way you square up your whole body down to your feet. 

One of his buddies on the couch follows his gaze and leans over with a knowing look on his face. “Which one are you after?” he asks. 

“On the left,” Taehyung answers, unashamed. WIth Jimin nowhere in sight, maybe he can rope this guy into wingmanning for him. It’s worth a shot. 

“Isn’t that the girl that stringy guy in your photography class was cheating on?” the guy asks, but Taehyung misses the question as the couch next to them explodes into roars as they seemingly disagree about something.

He watches when you and Nina finally get knocked from your spot at the table, watches as you retreat back to the corner where Yoongi and Kiko are still talking, heads bent together conspiratorially. He watches as your friend tugs you closer, says something close in your ear. You ask her something and she shakes her head, then turns away and heads back for the stairs. You continue on, ready to third-wheel next to Yoongi and Kiko.

“Now’s your chance,” Taehyung’s friend says, and Taehyung slaps him on the shoulder as he rises, making his way over.  What to say? He wonders as he crosses the room, squeezing between bodies, dodging around beer bottles and elbows. Not a comment about how gorgeous you are, even though he’s thinking it. You look like the type to throw drinks. Maybe a compliment about your pong skills? Or is he better off avoiding compliments and giving you some advice on your game instead?

Yes. That. That sounds good.

“You need to use your hips more,” he tells you, biting back a little laugh when you startle, jumping and turning to glare at him, clutching your red cup tightly.

“Excuse me?” you demand, one brow lifting. You haven’t tossed your drink at his face yet, so Taehyung presses on.

“When you play pong,” he explains. “You have great hips - use them to box out your opponent.”

Your second eyebrow joins the first. “Seriously?” you say, pissed. “The first thing you ever say to me in your life, and it’s about my ass?”

Ah, this is fun, Taehyung thinks. Repartee. 

“I didn’t say anything about your ass,” he points out. 

Bridget appears behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulders happily. She grins up at Taehyung, sly. “Tread carefully, Taehyung,” she warns. “Y/N doesn’t like to leave survivors these days.”

Taehyung always did like a challenge. 

The look you give him, steel-eyed and challenging, sends all the blood in his body rushing south. He blames this, and the rum in his cup, for when he opens his mouth and asks, “Is this like a black widow thing? I’m pretty sure they mate first.”

Your eyes go wide and your jaw drops. It’s your move in this little dance, and Taehyung almost bounces on the balls of his feet he’s so eager to see what you’ll do.

“You did not just fucking say that to me,” you growl. 

Grinning, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just giving interesting spider facts,” he defends. “No need to get upset.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” you say. You suddenly look a lot less hot-bitchy and a lot more actually offended. Taehyung hears a little voice in his head sing, uh oh.  “Enjoy your night.”

“Wait,” Taehyung says, hoping he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say next - anything will do, anything that keeps you from turning away. He can right this ship, he’s sure of it, he just needs to focus. “Are you actually mad? We were just flirting!”

Bridget laughs, and you roll your eyes. Still, you don’t turn away. Yet.

“You might be flirting,” you grouse. “Not me. I need to go find my friend.”

“She’s upstairs with her tongue in Hoseok’s mouth,” Bridget announces, and Taehyung nearly laughs out loud at the look of outrage and betrayal on your face.

“Sounds like your friend has the right idea,” Taehyung observes with a little shrug. He really expects your drink in his face this time, but instead you turn your back to him completely. 

Okay, Taehyung thinks. I can work with this. This is just a minor setback.

He shifts away from you, giving you some space, but staying in the circle. Jungkook and Jin have shouldered their way back over, and Jungkook presses a fresh cup into Taehyung’s waiting hand. Taehyung busies himself drinking, letting the conversation carry on without him for a minute. 

“This is boring,” Bridget finally laments. “Does anyone have a party trick to share?”

“I can lick my elbow,” Jungkook offers. Taehyung joins the other guys in boo-ing him. They’ve all seen him do it no less than fifty times since he figured out he could. It gets old.

“I have a great party trick,” Taehyung says, bitterness creeping into his voice even though he doesn’t mean to let it. “But the pay-off’s a little delayed. I can predict the weather - it’s going to rain like hell tomorrow.”

He’s a hundred percent sure of it - his leg never aches like this when there isn’t wet weather coming, and it’s not cold enough for snow yet. 

But you roll your eyes again and pull out your phone, shaking it back and forth as your thumb goes automatically to the weather app.

“My phone knows that ‘trick’ too,” you counter, all attitude. “And it says tomorrow will be warm and sunny.”

Taehyung knows he’s not wrong, but doesn’t want to explain it. It’s not really a conversation for when he first meets someone - oh yeah, I wrecked a car nine months ago with my best friends in it, and now my bones tell me every time it’s gonna precipitate like I’m an eighty-five-year-old. 

“I’ll put money on it,” he says, instead. 

You roll your eyes - again - and turn to head towards the stairs, not telling anyone goodbye. 

I… may have played that wrong, Taehyung considers, and then follows you at a clip. 

You’re at the counter in the kitchen mixing a drink when Taehyung catches up to you, approaching you quietly. When you glance over your shoulder to see who you hear, your eyes go wide in disbelief. 

“Oh my god,” you hiss. “Why are you following me?”

Taehyung feels weirdly defensive. He’s trying to be nice! “I feel like I actually pissed you off downstairs,” he says, hoping that you’ll drop the attitude and assure him that it was all in fun. 

“You did,” you say flatly. “So go away, please!”

Ouch. 

Time for damage control, Taehyung thinks. 

“Wait,” he says, and reaches out a hand, placating. It freezes midair; he’s got enough sense to know that touching you would be the absolutely wrong move. “I wanted to apologize.”

He’s not done, but he can see immediately that he’s on the right track. You physically relax, the tightness around your eyes melting away. 

“Sometimes when I drink,” Taehyung tries to explain, “dumb shit just comes out of my mouth without my brain’s permission. I wasn’t trying to be… disrespectful, or gross. But I think I was.”

You aren’t looking at Taehyung, but over his shoulder. You look paler than you did a moment ago, he thinks.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung finishes. “Okay?”

“Sure,” you answer, your eyes snapping back to his. “Whatever. I need some air.”

You push past him, through the living room, before he can react.Whatever? What kind of apology acceptance was that? Taehyung frowns, staring after the spot in the crowd where you’d disappeared. He’d found you instantly alluring, interesting; he’d been having fun teasing you. But your walls were up - he could see that from the first second. You were like a poison dart frog, displaying colors as a warning. Don’t get close.

Taehyung gets it - he’s the same way, to an extent. Where it seems like you keep people at bay with cold eyes and a sharp tongue, Taehyung hides behind bright smiles and loud jokes. It’s a better camouflage, he’s found. People don’t see it for what it is as easily. They tend to believe it more readily. Taehyung can’t help but wonder, despite how unsuccessfully this night is going, what you’re like to people who can get past your defenses. 

GIving up - for now - Taehyung decides to head back to the basement, the last place he saw the guys. Your roommates are still there, too, as far as he knows. Maybe you’ll come back in a better mood. 

Maybe he can think of something better to say before you do.

The stairway is dark, and Taehyung should have known better. He should have been more careful. He doesn’t remember missing a stair, only the split second of panic when his foot doesn’t connect with wood as expected, and then the jarring impact once it does find a stair further down. He catches himself on the railing, leaning heavily against the wall, heart pounding wildly with adrenaline, as pain radiates up his leg.“Fuck,” he hisses, sinking to sit down. It starts at his ankle, but it hurts most up by his knee, near the area where a metal pin was put in last February. He holds his knee with both hands, pressing in, but the pain pulses in waves, unrelenting. It takes him over for a minute - the pain becomes the memory and he’s gone from the stairwell and he’s instead in the car. He’s hearing the impending screech of tires, the shattering of glass, his own gasped breaths ringing in his ears. He can hear Jimin call his name frantically - ‘Taehyung. Kim Taehyung, answer me!’ - can hear his own voice repeating Jungkook’s name over and over, getting no answer. His eyes see snowflakes melting against the spiderwebbed cracks of the ruined windshield. 

The door at the top of the stairs opens behind him, pulling him back to reality abruptly. The memory melts faster than the snowflakes had. The dark February night melts back into the unlit stairwell. The pain is less piercing now, just throbbing. 

“Look out,” Taehyung calls, not sure if whoever is coming down the stairs can see him.

Whoever it is doesn’t hear him, and he tries to shift sideways to get out of the way more, but there’s nowhere for him to go. Someone’s legs hit his back and they fall over top of him. He reaches up to protect his head, and manages to grab what feels like their elbow, giving a hard tug to stop their fall. 

The person shrieks wordlessly in alarm as Taehyung holds on tight. He can hear the splashes and bounces of their cup finding the bottom of the stairs. The girl sits heavily two stairs below him, panting and gasping in surprise, her fingers digging into Taehyung’s arm desperately.

“Ow. What the fuck,” she says - and Taehyung knows immediately that it’s you.

“You’re welcome,” he deadpans, still holding your elbow, not sure how firmly you’re seated, or how drunk you are. He’s not sure that he can let go without sending you the rest of the way down the stairs.

“Why are you sitting on the stairs in the dark?” you ask in a hiss, annoyance clear in your voice. “I almost died!”

“I missed a step and hurt my ankle,” Taehyung explains. His voice shakes a little and he pauses, trying to steady it. For a second, he thinks he can still hear Jimin calling him, echoing from the recesses of his memories. Focus, he tells himself. “I tried to warn you I was here – I guess you didn’t hear me.”

“I guess I didn’t,” you allow. You’re quiet for a second, the two of you alone in the dark. Taehyung keeps his eyes trained on your face, uses watching your expression to ground himself, keep himself tethered to the present. Then, you ask, “I didn’t kick you or anything, did I?”

“No,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say slowly, as if you’re still assessing. “All things considered.”

He releases your elbow, then, assured that you won’t go toppling. He’s feeling more firmly here now, but his stomach still twists. He’s upset that it happened, the first time in months. It feels like a setback, feels like a failing. 

“Thanks for the save,” you say, suddenly sounding weirdly shy to Taehyung’s ears. “Quick reflexes.”

You get to your feet unsteadily, holding the wall with one hand and the railing with the other. “How hurt are you?” you ask. “Can you make it down?”

Taehyung thinks about this. His ankle feels better, the initial shocking impact having faded away. But his knee is still throbbing and his heart is still racing. He feels nauseated, vaguely dizzy in a way he knows has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the flashback he’d just experienced. 

Pride be damned, he thinks he needs to cut his losses and go upstairs to his own room. He needs some quiet. “I’m not sure,” he says finally. You’d been standing on your stair below him, watching him silently. All signs of your earlier anger were completely gone, and he thinks you look even prettier now. “Do you mind going downstairs and getting Jimin? Please?”

“Yeah,” you say, right away. “I can do that.”

You make your way down the stairs, pausing at the bottom and looking back up at him uncertainly. Then you disappear around the corner. A few minutes later, Jimin comes up the stairs, calling Taehyung’s name quietly. Yoongi is behind him, mouth a thin line.

“What happened?” Jimin asks. 

“I missed a stair,” Taehyung says grimly. “My knee - can you help me back up?”

“Up?” Jimin repeats. Taehyung hears his unsaid question - not downstairs, with us?

“My room,” Taehyung clarifies firmly. Jimin gives him a searching look, but doesn’t say anything. “Please.”

Jimin helps Taehyung stand, acts as his crutch all the way up the stairs. Yoongi goes carefully behind them, one hand up in case they overbalance. Jimin and Yoongi shoulder and shove a path through the living room, moving bodies out of the way so Taehyung can limp through, and then they repeat the process up the second set of stairs. 

“You good?” Yoongi asks from Taehyung’s doorway as Jimin helps Taehyung sit on the edge of his bed. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung tells him, giving him permission to go back downstairs to find the girl he’d been talking to. “Thanks, man.”

Jimin stays, perched on Taehyung’s desk, legs stretched out before him, looking at Taehyung expectantly. 

“I’m fine,” Taehyung insists. “I just…” 

He doesn’t usually get thrown back in time like that. Not anymore, not while he’s awake. It’s left him shaken, and while he knows Jimin will understand - he was there too, after all - he doesn’t want to say the words.

“You just?” Jimin echoes. 

Taehyung grimaces. “I just… had a moment. It passed, I’m fine. I just… don’t feel like partying now.”

Jimin nods silently. Taehyung knows that he understands exactly what Taehyung is saying. Taehyung had moments all the time, back in the spring, and Jimin had been around for most of them. Jimin knows better than anyone how to call Taehyung back to the present when he opens his eyes and finds himself in the middle of a snowstorm that happened nine months ago. 

After a few minutes, Taehyung can feel himself relax, and he lays back on his bed, his legs dangling over the end. The quiet is good for him. So is his best friend’s protective presence. His pulse slows, the adrenaline fades. He thinks back to the look you gave him from the bottom of the stairs, how searching it was, hope open your expression was once you dropped the pissy act.

“I think I’m in love with that girl from campus,” he announces. “Bridget’s roommate?”

He can hear Jimin’s eyeroll. “No you’re fucking not. Smitten, maybe. Horny for, definitely. In love? No.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Okay, but I could be. Did you see her?”

“I saw her almost kick you in the ‘nads,” Jimin says flatly. 

Taehyung smiles, taps his toes happily. “No way, man,” he argues. “She totally likes me.”

Taehyung is woken in the morning by a body draped over his. He wiggles, readjusts, accepts his fate. Then, as he slowly comes to, he tries to figure out which of his housemates is about to die.

“Jungkook,” he grumps, “you were not invited in.”

“There’s no coffee,” Jungkook whines. “Drive us to campus.”

“As the only person who doesn’t drink coffee in this entire house,” Taehyung growls, “that sounds very much like not my problem.”

“Please,” Jungkook whines. “Jimin says he’s too hungover to drive. I’ll buy yours? And a pastry?”

Taehyung grumbles, but as Jungkook continues to cling to him like a koala he finds that he can’t fall back to sleep. He’d stopped drinking and gone to bed hours before the other guys, so it’s probably true that he’s in the best shape out of them.

“Two pastries,” he counters.

“Yes,” Jungkook agrees immediately. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung grumbles, and Jungkook gives a happy wiggle. “Now get out of my bed.”

Jungkook rolls off of him, setting his feet on the cold floor and sitting up. Freed from his clutches, Taehyung sits upm rubbing a hand over his tired face. They both sit there silently, waking up by degrees. 

“How’s your leg?” Jungkook asks finally. “Jimin said you hurt it?”

Taehyung swings his legs out from under the covers and crosses the room, grabbing clean clothes and heading for the door. “It’s fine,” he says flatly, and vanishes into the hall.

–

The line at the coffee shop on campus is surprisingly long for a weekend morning. Taehyung shoots Jungkook dirty looks as they wait their turn, and Jungkook happily ignores him and chats with Jimin about homework. 

“I’ll probably be in the library until dinner,” Jungkook complains. “This paper for Professor Watanabe is killing me.”

“I finished that one,” Jimin says, apparently not too hungover to be smug about academics. “Did you reference Ibsen or did you go with Strindberg?” 

Taehyung groans out loud. He hasn’t even opened the assignment that the other two are talking about. “Is it bad that neither of those names sound even remotely familiar?”

Jimin gives him a look. “Yes. Yes it is. Tae, did you even open the assigned reading?” 

“You know what happens when I try to read,” Taehyung whines. He’s still pissed that the university requires two Literature credits. “I fall asleep.”

“Then at least look up the synopsis, for fuck’s sake!” Jimin mutters. 

The line moves, and they order their drinks, pay, and shuffle over to a table. 

“Can we not stay long?” Jimin begs. “My head…”

Taehyung doesn’t answer - he’s too busy realizing that the girl paying for her impressively large coffee is you. He taps Jimin’s wrist with his knuckles, eyes locked on your back. 

“She’s here,” he says quietly. Jimin and Jungkook both swivel to look at you, just as you turn around with your cup in hand. Taehyung considers going boneless and sliding under the table to hide from the mortification. 

His chance to escape diminishes as you meet his eyes, and he raises a hand to wave, forcing a friendly smile. Across from him, Jimin becomes the human embodiment of the popcorn-eating meme, watching this interaction with wide eyes.

Better just lean into it, Taehyung thinks.

“Hey,” he says, as soon as you’re within earshot, your coffee cup tucked between both hands.

You slow down, pause by their table, giving him a tiny smile.

“Hi,” you say, voice small and a little self-deprecating, as if you’re a little embarrassed. 

Adorable, Taehyung thinks happily. 

You continue, eyes only him. “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” he says. He feels his smile fade as he remembers that you’d seen him hurt - from your perspective, too hurt to even walk down the stairs alone. It’s embarrassing, and untrue, but the reality is equally as mood-killing. With effort, he tries to add some cheer to his voice. “Yeah. I am. Thanks.”

“That’s good,” you say, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, as if you can read the deception all over his face. For a split second, Taehyung panics that you somehow knew he’d been having an emotional spiral, not a leg injury. But of course, there’s no way you could. You press on, adding, “See you around, I guess.”

“See you,” Taehyung echoes.

As you near the door, Jimin and Jungkook lose it, falling into a pile on top of one another in their laughter.

“Fuck you guys,” Taehyung grumbles, but he laughs once. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“That was so sad,” Jungkook tells him, wiping a tear from under one of his eyes. “Dear god. You two need, like, remedial conversation classes.” 

Taehyung aims a kick under the table at Jungkook’s good leg.

“He’s not wrong,” Jimin giggles. “What’d you get all weird for?”

Taehyung grumbles. “I don’t know… it feels weird that she found me on the steps like that last night.”

“Demasculating,” Jungkook agrees, nodding sagely.

“Dude, from the bottom of my heart, shut the fuck up,” Taehyung tells him, “or you can walk home.”

“That’s not even the right word,” Jimin tells Jungkook, still fighting back giggles. “I swear, you two just get dumber and dumber.”

Taehyung tunes out a little as they begin to bicker, thinking instead of the small smile you’d given him, the way you’d looked only at him, talked only to him.

“Earth to Taehyung,” Jimin says. “You ready to go?”

Jungkook lets out another giggle. “You were so far away just now. Where’d you go?”

Taehyung can’t help but hide his expression, pleased and a little eager. “I’m telling you,” he asserts as he stands up, reaching for his hot chocolate. “She likes me.”

–

Thank you so much for reading! You can find my full masterlist here :)

[fireandspiceland]

26 with itager please?

Send a ship and a number ask game

26. “Forget the bed… let’s do it right here.”

The quote is a great choice for them!

-> In this essay I will explain why skirts are a superior outfit choice for boys. office sex (my beloved), Italy is a little shit.

“Germany!” Italy's cheerful voice broke through the silence that had been hanging in the room for hours.

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the report before him, Germany acknowledged the other's presence and flipped the page after licking his thumb.

Italy huffed. “Do you still have to work?” His voice sounded slightly defeated at the disinterest his boyfriend showed.

“I’m about to be fin-.. nish.. wha- I-Italy!" For a moment Germany was speechless. Only the sound of his ballpen dropping onto the desk got him to focus again. "What are you wearing?!”

“A skirt!” Italy had walked over to the desk, standing next to it now, close to Germany. With a laugh he twirled around, the short pleated skirt lifting up a little and playing around his thighs. "Lots of men in my country wear them now! Do you like it?"

Germany had to forcefully pull his eyes off Italy's creamy thighs. Was he just keeping an eye on them to pull it down again if the fabric lifted enough to leave Italy indecent or because he waited for exactly that moment? He didn't even know.

Italy looked at him expectantly, sitting on the edge of Germany's desk with his legs crossed. "Germany?" Italy giggled about the other's mental absence.

At his name being called Germany snapped out of his daydream, blinking a few times before looking up into Italy's eyes. A hint of mischief lay behind the usual carefree expression he wore. „I.. uhm.. y-yeah. You look.. cute, Italy.” With every word Germany's cheeks turned more red and his voice went a little more quiet.

Fortunately for him, Italy acted as if he didn’t notice how nervous Germany had suddenly become. Within the blink of an eye he had turned around and was now leaning forward to take a look at the documents Germany had been reading. “What are you even working on so late?”

Germany heard the question, but didn’t respond to it. He had hardly acknowledged the words at all, being busy staring at where the skirt ended right in place to cover Italy’s ass. The way Italy bent over the desk, basically presenting himself to Germany got the other man’s wheels turning. Should he say something? Should he look away? Act natural? Ask Italy about his thoughts on the report on his desk he was scanning through?

“Oh?” Italy sounded surprised, but not displeased when Germany’s calloused fingers touched the sensitive back of his thigh.

To his own surprise Germany found his hand on Italy’s thigh, his thumb merely a centimeter beneath the skirt. With his face turning even redder than before, Germany quickly pulled his hand away, but it was caught at the wrist by Italy.

The mischievous spark in Italy’s eyes came through again when he turned around and placed Germany’s hand on his bare ass. He giggled at the way Germany’s eyes widened when he noticed the lack und underwear.

Germany averted his eyes, not being able to look into Italy’s, but he didn't resist to lightly run his fingers over the smooth skin presented to them. “I- Italy.. You.."

With a lopsided smile, Italy reached out to cup Germany's cheek and force his look upwards. He swayed his hips lightly, making Germany automatically reach his other hand out to keep him still, but Italy only stepped closer and put one foot onto Germany's desk chair, right into the spot between his legs.

Germany gulped and coerced himself into not letting his gaze wander down to where the skirt was now lifed enough to give him a good look beyond it.

"Do you like my skirt, Germany?"

Italy's voice was now more sultry than playful. When the sentence ended his leg was bent and instead of his foot there was now his bent leg resting on the chair, his knee pressing against Germany's crotch.

"Yes.."

It took Germany a moment to muster up an answer, his throat felt dry as he rasped out the words, but when Italy crawled on his lap, straddling him and surprising him with a kiss, he thanked god he was able to say anything. He pulled Italy closer, holding him tightly out of reflex, and drew a little giggle from him that was muffled by their kiss.

Italy hardly left them any room to catch their breath. Lips being caught between teeth, tongues going from a shy touch to playing with each other, fingers making quick work of getting Germany's dress shirt undone.. Italy knew every step he had to take with his boyfriend by heart. Once the shirt was not gone but at least open, he went from kissing his boyfriend's lips to the side of his mouth, jaw, earlobe, neck, collarbone, leaving little marks wherever he could reach while reaching for the fly of Germany's trousers.

The almost strategically placed kisses on his upper body left Germany panting. He almost wanted to protest and suggest they continue later, but then his hands slipped further up and between Italy's buttcheeks and he noticed a familiar kind of sticky wetness. In the same moment Italy palmed the growing bulge in his trousers and Germany closed his eyes, shutting out the thoughts about the work he still had to finish that night. It could wait.

Italy’s kisses turned more fierce and bruising when Germany experimentally inched his index finger closer to Italy’s stretched hole. He could feel Germany tense up a little when he realized this wasn’t really about showing off the latest fashion trend his country’s people came up with. The goal has been something else from the beginning and Italy nearly purred in his ear when he asked if work could wait until tomorrow.

Germany slowly nodded his head, having nearly missed the meaning of the question directed at him. With skilled movements Italy had Germany’s trousers undone and his briefs down enough to free his hard cock from its confines.

Italy gave it a few slow strokes, making Germany shudder and moan. “Italy..” Another shuddering breath escaped Germany as he dipped his finger into the wet heat of Italy’s hole, making his cock twitch underneath the skirt. “Let.. let’s go to bed for the night.”

Italy pulled away from Germany’s neck to look at him. His eyes were darkened with desire, lips a little wet and his cheeks flushed from nibbling Germany’s skin. “Forget the bed.. let’s do it right here. Do you still have the lube I brought last time you were overworking?”

Considering the situation for a moment, Germany ended up nodding his head at the topmost drawer on his desk. “Yes, of course.”

Italy smirked at the answer and leaned back to fetch it from the drawer, trusting his boyfriend to hold him so he won’t slip off his lap and the chair. Once he had Germany's cock slicked up Italy scooted closer. With one hand on Germany’s neck, pulling him into a heated kiss, and the other holding Germany’s cock in position, Italy descended himself onto it.

The stretching he had done before coming to Germany’s office paid off now that he could easily take Germany’s length. He still hissed at the slight burn, but it wasn’t in pain. Steadying himself with both hands around Germany’s neck he began to move, slow rolls of his hips that made Germany kiss him deeper as if begging for more.

When he had found his pace, Italy broke the kiss, instead holding Germany’s head close so their foreheads were touching. He listened to the little noises Germany made every time he slightly adjusted his position, pinched his nipples or tightened his grip on the back of his head. Every moan and gasp only spurred on his own arousal, but he hadn’t realized how close he was until he felt Germany’s hand sneak under the skirt to stroke his cock with every bounce.

“Germany.. you don’t have to-“

“Please come with me, Italy!”

Italy couldn’t deny Germany if he was pleading like this and picked up his pace a little as Germany kept stroking him. A waterfall of sweet nothings fell from Italy’s lips as he listened to Germany’s moans getting louder, his breathing getting heavier. Every bounce he did on Germany’s lap was met with a desperate thrust as they both got closer and closer to the release they were chasing.

Germany was first to come but Italy followed suit, hot waves of pleasure making both of them cling to each other as they rode out their high. After the bliss had worn off, Germany slowly blinked his eyes open. He looked at his desk that was covered in documents and files, but then Italy lifted his head to look in his eyes and work was long forgotten again.

[octania]

Benimaru Shinmon x Reader ( NSFW, 18+)

Word count: 3.8 k

Warnings: NSFW,smut,oral sex,sexual teasing, orgasm prohibition

Short description: You were in love with this man for over a year, but your bratty mouth an denial of your feelings got you in a situation where Benimaru will teach you how to behave in very teasing and heated way....

________________________________________________________

The air was filled with the scent of a variety of traditional dishes and enriched by the happy shouts of excited residents through the streets. This time, the festival did not mean destruction, this time it was celebrated by making delicious dishes and socializing with each other. The celebration itself began at dawn, when they brought out their wooden tables and portable stoves, beginning to enrich the street with enticing scents of a variety of spices and ingredients. You could also hear the gentle sound of kota, whose strings were gently touched by the pale hands of young talented musicians. While these were all just preparations for the big ceremony that would start when sun kisses the mountains, everyone shared their joy throughout the day. His dark hair fluttered in the morning breeze around his narrowed eyebrows. Ruby eyes barely opened as he passed like a shadow past people. Although it was not visible on the expression on his face, he secretly enjoyed the liveliness that spread through the streets of his hometown. Countless greetings lined up behind him, giving him words of praise and support to which he only nodded a few times, nothing more, and continued his walk. The silence of his thoughts was broken by a hoarse female voice. Although it was rough, it sounded kind of gentle. He soon discovered to whom it belonged, when a plump old woman with black hair streaked with gray strands stepped in front of the captain. Her wrinkled face wearing a smiled from ear to ear, her eyes squinting at the young man.“Benimaru, my boy! I have something for you, please do except my gift in honor to you and the members of your squad.”- she was direct, not talking his ear off, just bowing slightly after her words and handing him a medium sized package. He stared in the thing wrapped in light blue material with a lack of interest that he did not hide not even the slightest. “Tempura and sushi, to hold you till the festival tonight.” – she explained getting back up from the slight bow. After a couple of lazy blinks, he raised his hand and responded. “That is alright, we will wait till the festival.”- without waiting for a response, he passed the woman in attempt to leave, but she was not letting go so easily. Shoving the thing in his hands, she smiled again, not bothered by his behavior.“Nonsense! Twins will love it, and we all know Konro could use a break for cooking today.”- Benimaru sighed, pushing the package slowly back at her, but before he could say anything, a female voice sharp like katana echoed the street. “Obaachan, can you please stop giving food to the people who clearly have no decency to even say thank you? Rudeness should not be rewarded.”- (Y/N) stood at the door of their restaurant, squeezing the sleeves of her kimono. Benimaru didn't say a word, looking at the young girl with the expressionless face. The lack of his reaction only made (Y/N) even angrier as she furiously crossed her arms over her chest. “(Y/N), you watch your mouth! You are addressing our beloved captain, to whom you owe your safety!”- obaachan scolded her, raising her finger as a warning, but that didn't stop (Y/N) from responding with even greater ferocity, targeting Benimaru with a look of utter contempt. “Because he is a captain, he should show more respect to his people and their offerings! Shouldn’t leaders be role models? Poor us if that is the case. People usually pay for the food in our restaurant, and yet he shows no gratitude even when his meal is free!”- she did not waver, her stand proud and determent, not showing even a bit of fear from the man who is the head of this town. “Child, hush! Go back inside right now! Sol help your rude mouth!”- Obaachan started waving her hands, showing (Y/N) to go back inside the house, turning to Benimaru. “I apologize captain Shinmon, (Y/N) did not mean it.”- the elderly woman bowed again, with clear expression of shame smeared around her wrinkled face. Still speechless, Benimaru watched the girl, who was now biting her lower lip in frustration as if it were chewing gum. Eventually, he slung the bundle over his shoulder, turning on his heel. “Thank you for the meal madam (Lastname of your family).” – that was the only thing he said, strolling down the dusty street without turning around again. Even though he wanted to allow his mismatched eyes to gaze upon the fearless woman one more time....

The celebration that had its core in the great hall that belonged to your family, otherwise intended for weddings and large feasts, was already spreading like wildfire. People were raising glasses full of sake, feasting on specialties they had been preparing all day, but they preferred to treat their palates to desserts that belonged to your family restaurant. Young artists danced a traditional dance with fans, attracting curious glances with their gorgeous and colorful kimonos. Outside, the streets were crowded with people, gazing merrily at the early fireworks that ate up the starry sky with their tantalizing shapes. You were in charge of serving the guests who sat on the heated floor of the hall in front of the beautifully carved tables. Countless comments on your beauty and grace have accompanied you in your assignment, while you have given a kind smile to anyone who would praise you. No one has noticed that your eyes jump restlessly from person to person, searching the room in hopes of encountering the phlegmatic face of the man who was the source of your deepest suffering.You were afraid that your sharp tongue had resulted in his absence, that he wouldn't show up for the rest of the evening, maybe not after either. Did you overdo it... or didn't you? He was rude after all! Yes it is true, he is guilty of this! You weren't even aware that your angry thoughts betrayed the state of your mind on your face. You eyebrows narrowed, lips squeezed in a straight line, your body tense, as you rushed towards the kitchen, when a familiar voice addressed you. “(Y/N)! Your family always knew how to make the best celebrations, I congratulate you.”- a tall man with a kind blue eyes  that resembled a calm and mysterious sea, smiled at you, holding the door of the kitchen open for you. “Konro! I..”- you stopped for a second, almost dropping the mountain of dirty dishes you were carrying,  as your eyes finally find the one they’ve been searching for. A smile almost escaped your lips, but you prevented your rooted emotions to show. Behind the tall man, Benimaru was standing, scanning the room full of cheerful people. He did not even look at you once, and you could feel the frustration rising in you again. Who does he think he is? No matter how much you were bothered by his disinterested posture, your eyes wandered over his crossed arms on his chest, the muscle that adorned his forearms reached to the very core of your desire. The hands filled with veins always looked tense and ready to fight, as if  he was waiting to defend the whole world with them, alone. You could no longer resist the sight, you had to run away. Blubbering a couple of thanks to the lieutenant, you ran past his arm into the kitchen, kicking the door with your foot behind you to close them. You took quick steps to the sink and nearly broke half the porcelain plates when you threw them inside. You grasped the edges of the sink, closing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath. Before you could muster your whirlwind of thoughts, a young woman approached you from the back.“You know, if you were not such a proud and bratty thing, you would be breaking beds now and not dishes.” – (B/F – name of your best friend) mocked your state without restraining one bit. Your nerves were thin, and being called out like this only made you react like a cornered animal.“Shut up, I don’t know what you are talking about (B/F). Seriously, if you worked even the half of the time you spend teasing people, we would actually get something done. “-you snapped at her, pulling out  bamboo boxes filled to the brim with colorful mochis. “Sure, if you had a bite to support all that barking, maybe you would get something done. I think Benimaru would appreciate your teeth on his skin more than your mouth just bullshiting all the time.”- she did not back down,wrapping the strands of hair around her finger, (B/F) continued before you could counter attack.“How long has it been since you started drooling over Waka? A year? Year and a half? Oh my God, when I remember how pissed you were when you though he was dating that girl from company 8th just because she brought some papers a couple of times.”- the more she talked, the more did rage boil in you, so much that  it seemed that steam will start going out of your ears. Her voice only rose as she continued through laughter.“Damn, you made me wait  around corners like crazy people just so we can see if they are a couple or not. And when it finally turned out they were not, I will never forget your jumping in the air from excitement.”- before she could say any more , something gooey and sticky landed right on her forehead. She whined in surprise, as the pieces of mochi started falling down her face.“Anything else you want to add?!Huh?!”- you lifted your hand high, ready to throw another mochi at her.“Maybe if you threw yourself on Benimaru in the same way you are throwing this mochi, you would get some and your nerves would calm down!!”- she screamed before ducking down as your hand catapulted another one at her.  You didn’t even know that your little show didn’t go as private as you thought. The high tones of the people from the main hall were unfortunately not enough to cover your voices, and one curious ear absorbed every word. Benimaru lowered his head, starting to walk away from the kitchen door. Under his raven hair, a grin was hiding.

He sat quietly watching the people around him fiercely try to get his attention. Some were male neighbors praising his fighting skills, their speech interrupted by hiccups from too much sake was almost humorous, while on the other hand a couple of girls discreetly tried to gain his favor, but all they got was a restrained smile. He brought the glass to his lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid, but there were no more inside. Your grandmother, who was actually only a few seats away from him, noticed the lack of refreshment for the beloved captain, and of course, called your name instantly. “(Y/N)! Fill the captain’s cup!”- you kept away from his table. Actually, you targeted those behind him, in order to better avoid a face-to-face encounter. The things (B/F) told you bothered you too much, and you didn't just want to deepen your cravings and quarrel with yourself over the feelings you carry for this man. Hearing your name, Benimaru tilted his head, looking over his strong shoulder with his glowing eyes. That deep gaze made you swallow, barely keeping you composure. You knew if you came any closer you would break, and you will not give him that satisfaction. You lifted you chin up,  pushed back your shoulders, and turned on your heal as the cold answer followed.“He has hands. He can fill it up himself.”- without second thought, you walked away, but you swore you could feel a set of burning eyes following you.

The hallways were empty, all the guests retreated to the main hall. As the night went on, even the workers began to relax, completing their work and joining the rest of the town in celebration. There was no longer a need to bring the food from the kitchen, at least for the time being, the tables were full. (B/F) was the last person leaving the kitchen, as you said you will join her shortly, you just wanted to finish a few things up. Carrying the empty bamboo boxes, you took a turn into the hallway bathed in dim light, crashing with your shoulder into something big and hard. You blinked in shock, barely managing not to drop the boxes on the floor. The thing in front of you was a person, and seeing him made your heart race. Benimaru Shinmon stood there silently, his eyes half opened, shoulders relaxed, while he studied you.  You almost bit your lip, but seeing the man baring that uninterested expression once more, made your blood boil instead. “Excuse me is the words you are looking for! You should watch where you are going.”- you said irritated, trying to go pass him, hiding your flustered face beneath your hair. A feeling of slight pain spread throw your back as it crashed on the wall. It took you a couple of seconds to figure out what was going on, that is, you needed to believe that this was not one of your dreams. Pressed with his hips on your abdomen, Benimaru towered over you. He seemed stronger than usual, more dangerous, but there was not a shred of fear in you, just excitement. “Wh..what are you doing?! Get off!”- funny you should say that, when in reality you didn’t wiggle or struggle at all, your big mouth once again just stood in your way in order to show your true feelings. But Benimaru was no fool. He did not respond on your demands, instead, he tilted his head on the side, like he was checking something, then returned his gaze on you. You could feel the ground disappearing under you. You gasped at the unsettling feeling, trying to grab onto something from pure instinct. But the only thing you managed to grab was the one making you lose the floor under your feet in the first place. Benimaru picked you up by your waist, his forearm adorned with prominent veins wrapped around your waist like a snake, not letting go of his prey. He was fast, pushing the door of the kitchen that was empty and dark, kicking it again as they closed with a loud bang that made you flinch, while he turned the key in the lock. “Benimaru ! What the hell? I said let go!”- in reality, you hated the thought of his hands leaving your body. The feeling that flowed through your veins when you were this close to him, almost took over even your insolence, but the bits that were left now squirted like popcorn from your lips. “You are too huffish, (Y/N).”- his voice smooth like honey, but a bit dark. The sudden feeling of falling down made a muffled whine to escape your mouth, but you did not hit the ground. He held you in his lap while he sat down on a kitchen table. Your permanent denial tried to strike for the last time, making you turn around furiously, facing the man who dared to pick you up like a helpless and fragile thing. But the sharpness of your words did not come down from your lips, when sweetness filled your taste buds. The warm flesh of his lips now merged with yours. The bitter taste of the sake he drank from didn't bother you, because for you he tasted like cupid's wine, intoxicating you, maddening your thoughts and driving your senses wild. You felt dizzy from the heat that rushed into your cheeks when he first ran his tongue over yours, caressing its soft surface with his tender muscle. You tried to get some air in your lungs but you didn't know how to breathe, you were so enchanted by his kisses. You almost swore in displeasure when he pulled his lips away from yours.“If you just did this, we would be able to skip the punishment.”- confused, you did not even manage to answer his statement when his hands that were resting on your waist till now, pulled you down and flipped you across his lap. Your knees landed on the wooden surface of the table, as you kept your balance on your elbows in the front. “What…what are you doing?”- you asked with a shaky voice, seeing how his hand hold you by the material of you kimono on your lower back, keeping you steady. “I declined the home made meal from your obaachan today because I knew we already had a meal prepared for the day.”- he said sliding his rough palm of his free hand across your spine, down to the your lower back, all the way to your peachy ass. You bit you lip, shivering when his touch did not stop, traveling down your thigh, then taking a handful of fabric of your kimono.“Taking more would mean throwing it away because it would not be eaten. And that would be disrespectful.”- he jerked your kimono abruptly, exposing your entire lower body. Your perfectly shaped ass made him discreetly lick his lips, while you covered your face with your palms in shame. “I-I…I didn’t k..know that ..”- you tried to explain yourself, but in vain, as his voice  responded harshly, accompanied with his finger movement, slipping under the side of your panties. You whined loudly as his index finger brushed along your folds.“You did not bother to ask. But fortunately as you said earlier, I do have my hands. And with my hands I plan to teach you how to behave.”- the sound of tearing fabric filled the kitchen. You bit your hand when you felt the exhaled air from his mouth pass over your naked cunt. He was so close that he could feel the heat coming from it, barely restraining himself from biting into that cookie. You stirred a little, the discomfort ate at you up, the feeling of arousal overcame you.“Don’t look there….Benimaru, please I-….”

“You know how to say please already? Well, I wonder what it will take to teach you to say sorry.”- his fingertips crossed over your silky pussy lips, gently caressing the rosy flesh. You whimpered at the slow pace of his movements. He didn't remove his head, he calmly watched the wet glow slowly appear on those folds. He pushed his finger closer to the opening, collecting some sticky liquid with his fingertip. He didn't push his finger inside, but continued to draw a line along your slit. “Oh my Sol!”- you cried out, squirming already, but that did not even make him flinch. He pushed his digit a bit harder, make it sink into the sensitive flesh, brushing over it all so gently. “Sol will not help you (Y/N), but some manners might. Luckily again, as you said, captain should be a role model, showing the people the art of good manners.”- his thumb slipped across your clit, making the rough skin stimulate it so greatly it made your icing flow more intensely. You yearned for him to do it again, but you were out of luck. This was not supposed to be something to reward you with, this was a straight up lesson to teach you what will happen when your bratty mouth bump into an opponent like Benimaru. He settled his thumb above your throbbing nerve bud, adding another finger to the game. His index and middle finger pulled your pussy lips slowly, massaging them between them. The sensation you were feeling made you feel dizzy. The overwhelming pleasure that arose in you now got your legs shaking without stopping. The feeling was unbearable, because he touched all the sensitive places but leaving the critical ones empty and eager. This teasing was so arousing your juices now strained down your thigh. The crystal like liquid did not go unnoticed by Benimaru, as a grin appeared on his face. Without a second though, he lowered his head, sticking his tongue out and pressing it on your plushy thighs, collecting the juices in long strokes. “Beni!!”- you moaned like a whore, voice filled with begging desire and maddening need, but he did not plan to be interrupted. He slid his hand under you, finding your mouth and sticking the fingers coated in your icing in it.“Clean this up, while I clean you down here.”- he lifted his hand a bit to make you close your mouth around his fingers, pumping them in and out to insure you will do the job well. You sobbed in a low voice as you sucked on your own cum, barely concentrating on his order when the feeling of him patiently licking off the wetness along your thighs and getting closer to your cunt made you almost faint. His soft muscle finally found its way to the grand prize, as he brushed it on your folds and around your entrance in circular motions. You could not take it, you started to push your ass back, trying to make him stick his tongue in, touch your clit, anything to give you the sweet release you so desperately needed. But he will not grant you that. He pressed his mouth right on your heated hole, and started sucking, gathering the last of your juices. You body was on the edge, you could feel your heart skipping a beat, lungs barely catching air and muscles tensing, begging for that much needed release, but the only thing you got was a tender kiss on your clit, before he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and lifting you off of him. He placed you in the sitting position, spreading your legs so your cunt was fully exposed to him once more. Your own wetness was smeared around your lips. You lowered your gaze, seeing something that made your mouth drop open. On Benimaru’s loose pants, there were more than clear outlines of his thick dick. You never saw something like that before, stretching the fabric mercilessly. He was not big, he was huge, and you wanted every damn inch buried inside of you. But you again forgot that this was not your lucky day….“You can only watch as I get the release that you are forbidden to reach tonight.” he slid his hand under his pants, giving his length a couple of experimental pumps before exposing the beast to you.“If you will behave, next time I will reward you, this time you will only swallow your bratty words…and my cum.”- he started slowly jerking it off, gazing at your plumb lips where his load will end.

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[kuroos-moon]

Mistaken Kisses pt. 2 

☾ pairings: atsumu x reader, sakusa x reader, kenma x reader

☾ part one | oikawa, tsukishima, sugawara, kuroo

☾ scenario: they see you kissing someone else (not intentionally though)

☾ warning/s: v tiny bit of angst for atsumu’s

Miya Atsumu 

Growing up as a twin, he’s used to people mistaking him for Osamu and the other way around. Now that they have different hair colors though, those occasions came down to rare if not none. 

You’re innocent, you swear. Briefly calling out his name as you enter their gym, his back to you with his hood on— and you grab him slightly by his arm, shifting him a quarter so that you could stand on your toes and plant your lips on his. 

He smells a bit different, tasted quite different too, but who cares? This was your boyfriend— or so you thought. Pulling away as his hood falls off his head, your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat. Is that gray hair? Is he seriously not blonde? 

Realization hits you the same time you hear him. “Ya treacherous pathetic excuse of a brother!” You blink once and they’re already on the ground after Atsumu lunged at Osamu, fists, kicks and swearing thrown here and there. 

“Stop it!” You hiss, about to grab Atsumu but Aran stops you, afraid you’ll accidentally get hit in the process. 

“Y/n is the only thing I can’t and will not share but ya sneak in a kiss on her when I’m not around!” Another fist lands on Samu’s cheek, and that had to hurt. Atsumu was genuinely enraged. This wasn’t their usual brawl. 

“Ya have eyes, Sumu,” Osamu knees his back before turning to his side, throwing Atsumu to the ground. “Y/n kissed me!”  

“It’s true Tsum, I was the one who kissed him.” That halts their actions in an instant, tension suddenly thick in the air as he remains lain down on the floor, recovering his breaths as he struggles to process what you had just said. 

“It was an accident, I thought he was you,” you say in a small voice, dreading what was going to happen next at the way he scoffs at your words. “Get off me,” he shoves his brother off him, standing up and brushing off his clothes. 

He coldly looks at you and you squirm inside. Profoundly intimidated by his stare, you look away, eyes landing on whoever or whatever else that wasn’t your boyfriend who looked so spiteful and disgusted. “One of me ain’t enough, is that it?” He bitterly says, glaring at you. 

You immediately look back at him, surprised at his words. “I told you it was an accident, Tsumu, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, ya kissed for quite a while, was there no tellin they weren’t my lips?”

“He was wearing your hoodie,” you try to say, but he looks away, disinterested.

“Atsumu,” you sigh as you step closer to him but he turns on his heel, walking away from you.

“Don’t want ya nymore, have fun with my brother,” he clicks his tongue, unable to erase the image from a while ago. It was painful—both what he saw and what he said to you after. He knows it wasn’t your fault, but that didn’t really do much to change how he felt. 

It was his typical defense mechanism, masking his hurt by hurting you back and putting up a show of indifference. His sharp tongue, the hostile words he had said to you were filling him with self-resentment the second he let them go— never does he want to hurt you but he did so anyway; simply because he got hurt first.

“He’ll come around,” Osamu places a hand on your back reassuringly, “though I doubt he’ll make the first move to fix things.” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Oh, what a lovely day to be standing outside the restroom, waiting for your boyfriend to finish washing his hands; especially when out of nowhere, you’re yanked and kissed. Oh, for your boyfriend to have such lovely timing of walking out the restroom the moment the stranger’s lips touch yours. 

You push the guy off immediately, eyes meeting Sakusa’s in a panic, fearing he might misinterpret. However, your worries should come to an ease, he saw the whole thing and he trusts you completely anyway. But his eyes aren’t on you, they’re sharp and glaring at the guy who had kissed you. All he sees is dirt. Pure filthy garbage, worthless and far too shameless—having the audacity to taint you. 

Clasping your hand in his, he securely pulls you to his side. “You okay?” He asks, looking at you and you nod. He’s possessive and territorial, that’s a surprise to none. What he had just done equated to a life-ending treason, but he’s never really one for violence. 

“Call the cops.” 

“Wait, no, dude, I’m sorry it was an accident. I thought she was my girlfriend.” He frantically says, bowing repeatedly before the two of you. “I’m really sorry,” he says again, looking at you, making Sakusa glare at him as a warning to not even breathe the same air as you. 

A girl walks up to him, clinging to his arm as she asks him what was going on and now, he has fallen at your mercy; his girlfriend didn’t look anything like you at all—hair and height especially. You’re not even mad, you’re much too preoccupied worrying about what Sakusa might do next. 

“Do you have any colds?” He asks the guy, who like you, was shocked at his sudden question. 

“What?” 

“Are you blind and deaf too?” Oomi narrows his eyes, making him gulp. “Uh, no, I’m perfectly well.”

“Any infectious disease? Tell me even if its minor.” 

“None.” 

“Y/n I thought I told you to call the cops,” Sakusa timidly looks at you and you flinch, a nervous chuckle escaping your throat. “Do we really have to?” 

“His excuse was pathetic, he’s clearly some pervert, a cheating one at that.” 

“Please, I won’t do it ag-

“If not the cops, would you rather I destroy you right now? I’m not one to be forgiving when it comes to my lover.” That wasn’t even directed at you but you feel your body shiver, he was scary and domineering; his narrowed eyes and heartless expression screamed that no one should take his threats lightly. 

Other than the intensity of his words though, you felt your heart melt at the way he called you his lover. You’re practically looking at him with heart eyes, touched by his sentiment, butterflies going wild in your stomach as you admired him. 

It took a lot of your nagging and attempts at pulling him away for the both of you to actually be alone in his car—now on your merry way home. Contrary to the butterflies earlier on, you’re now silent in your seat, stealing glances at him warily. 

If you’re mad, say something, you try to tell him with your eyes but they remain set on the road.

“Yoomi?” 

“What?” 

“I’m sorr-

“Save the apologies for when you’ve done something wrong.” He coldly cuts you off and you close your mouth immediately. 

After a few seconds, you try again, “are you mad?” 

He finally looks at you, and though it was subtle, you did notice how he glanced down at your lips a second too long. “I’m not.” 

“You could at least try to be convincing; your face says it all,” you pout, “you’re mad and disgusted.”

“I’m neither of the two.” 

“Prove it.” 

He looks at you incredulously, like ‘tf am I supposed to do??’

Sighing, he slightly nods, “fine.” 

“I’ll kiss you until you drop after you brush your teeth.” 

Kozume Kenma     

Kenma is multiple cats in one easily-exhausted human body. He could be a soft domestic cat, allowing you to love the hell out of him while you cuddle—or he could also be one with sharp claws if he’s aggravated, not really one with specialized attacks but still terrifying. 

Right now though, he’s debating whether he should be a dejected cat who’s ready to leave its owner (which is you) or a level-headed laid-back one. The latter was easier said than done, how could he remain calm when you’re being kissed by someone else? It’s a heavy pang on his chest and an excessive blow on his insecurities—but oh, wait, you pushed him off. 

“What the hell?!” You shout at the guy. It all clicks, of course you’ll never do that to him. Okay, he starts seeing red and no it’s not his Nekoma jacket. He could almost imagine his legs sprinting disgracefully towards the guy and attacking him in any form. Biting, punching, scratching, he doesn’t care, he’s going to unleash the sharp-clawed cat within him—the same one that quarreled with Yamamoto. 

But before he could, you’ve marched away, and he catches a glimpse of your teary eyes. He follows you shortly, glaring daggers at the guy who was totally creeped out. Kenma could be terrifying. 

He’s mad and frustrated, but that could wait. You are far more important than his anger and he’ll always put you first. He patiently waits outside the girls’ restroom, sending you a quick text to let you know he was waiting to walk you home like he always did. 

As you head out of school, you remain silent beside him. Your irritation was gone but he could easily tell you were worried about him and about how he felt. “Y/n?” He meekly says. You look at him. This time, you note, he wasn’t on his phone which he would normally be using right now. 

“Wanna hang out in my room?” He offers you a rare soft smile, and you smile back at him. 

You both laze off on his bed, his head on your stomach and your fingers running through his hair while he plays with his switch. He looks unbothered, but you’re just struggling to find the right words and time to talk to him about what he saw earlier. 

He may have looked unaware of your silent distress, but he was just waiting for you to be comfortable enough to talk to him about it. He’s ready to assure you it was fine though he was actually really embittered—of course he would be after seeing someone else kiss his beloved kitten. 

“Ken… about earlier in the classroom, aren’t you mad?” You softly glide your fingers across his cheek. 

“I don’t care much for it, y/n,” he sincerely says. “See, you’re lying,” you pinch his cheek causing him to look away from his game. 

“I’m only concerned about you, you must’ve been mad,” he says, tossing his console to the side and turning to face you, his cheek pressed to your stomach. “I’m fine, Ken, I was only worried you’d be mad.” 

“Then rest easy now that you know I’m not,” he smiles before taking your hand to cover his face. You look at him in surprise as he groans, and you didn’t have to take your hand away to know that his face right now was rather expressive. 

“I’m still super ticked about it though,” he huffs and you chuckle at how adorable he was as he alternately kicks his feet up and down his mattress in a mock tantrum.

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle   @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo

[quietmyfearswith]

happy hoelidays ; preferences

warnings — allusions to smut, swear words, wanting kids (idk)

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, ransom drysdale, jake jensen, bucky barnes, lance tucker, syverson, will shaw, august walker

a/n — here’s my entry for the happy hoelidays 2020 hosted by @stargazingfangirl18, @navybrat817 , and @donutloverxo 🎄 Y/M/N = your mother’s name 🎄 lmk what you think!!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy

masterlist

I asked for one thing this year…you — dialogue prompt

Andy was going over the last of his files; as Christmas neared, he decided to take the week off. Despite it being something he didn’t usually do, he deemed it only necessary since he was spending the particular holiday with his beloved. Hearing the bustling of Christmas ornaments and decorations made the lawyer raise his gaze from the papers in front of him to the girl who was placing stockings with his and Y/N’s names by the fireplace — he didn’t even know that they had such stockings. “What do you have there, baby?” 

Turning to him with a wide grin as she held the two trinkets, “I bought these two when I was at the mall the other day; they’re so cute!” As she pinned them by the fireplace, Andy hugged her so his front was flush against her back. “I do think they’re adorable like you,” Pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek, Y/N giggled as his facial hair tickled her, “But I don’t think that the Christmas sock is necessary, especially for me.” Looking over to him with worried eyes and furrowed eyebrows, Y/N assumed the worst, “You don’t like it? Is it the color? Or did you see the gift I bought for you and think it’s shit?” Stopping her from overthinking, Andy kissed her deeply and held her hands between their chests to prevent her from wiggling away, “It’s not that, baby.” His statement didn’t help her confusion so Andy further explained, “I asked for one thing this year,” Kissing the knuckles in both her hands before looking up at her with pure love and adoration before confessing, “You. You’re what I asked for and I’m glad it came true.”

Oh, see, I thought we were going to enjoy a nice holiday dinner, and then you had to go and do that. I’m very disappointed, sweetheart — dialogue prompt

Knowing how much his girlfriend adored the Christmas season, August tried his best to end any missions before it or not accept any new ones. Thankfully this year he wasn’t needed elsewhere; so he decided to cook up a delicious homemade meal for the two of them. While he was doing the final preparations for their meal, he wondered what Y/N was doing. As he placed the chicken he cooked on the table, he removed the apron — something she’d gifted him when she found out he developed a habit of cooking and was extremely good — and headed to their shared bedroom, “Little one? Where are you?”

Y/N was nervous as she twirled in front of the mirror completely fixated on whether or not the babydoll she was going to wear later after their dinner looked good; so fixated she failed to hear his deep voice call out for her. When the door creaked open she turned around, they both gasped at the situation they were in. Y/N wasn’t planning for August to catch her in one of his gifts this early; while the latter was incredibly turned on that his erection was aching to be attended to. “Oh, see, I thought we were going to enjoy a nice holiday dinner,” He pointed to the door as he approached her with slow steps; “And then you had to go and do that,” He grabbed the cloth of her skimpy outfit before continuing, “I’m very disappointed, sweetheart.” Confused about his arousal that she mistook for anger, “What do you mean, Aug? Don’t you like this babydoll I got for you?” Her pout was so adorable that it only added to his desire for her as he clarified, “I love the babydoll, but I’m disappointed because now food’s gonna get cold because we’re gonna have to take care of this,” He grabbed one of her hands and let it feel his raging erection against his pants. Giggling at his problem, Y/N then squeezed his cock and sultrily teased, “Let’s get to it then, daddy.”

Congratulations. You’ve officially won the Ugly Sweater contest. — dialogue prompt

There were a lot of technological advancements that Bucky was thankful for; the improvement of the laundry washer and dryer wasn’t one of them though. It was just too much to comprehend for his cyborg brain with all the options and different detergents and products one can use. So he came to a compromise with his girlfriend; she’ll do the loading of their clothes into the washer and dryer, while he’ll unload them from the dryer and fold them. That set up worked perfectly for the two of them given how Y/N loathed having to fold clothes. But Bucky’s luck was wearing thin; Y/N was out running errands for the Christmas party of the Avengers and the former Winter Soldier was left alone at their living quarter. “Fuck it,” He whispered as he gathered all their dirty clothes and headed to the washer. The sweater he was going to wear was in the dirty pile of clothes and despite his disinterest in laundry. He poured whatever cleaning product looked suitable for the clothes and pushed the button that accomplished the task in the shortest amount of time. Opening the dryer, he immediately fished for his sweater and gasped out loudly with what the clothing article looked like. The once gray sweater was now littered with red and green streaks — thanks to the other Christmas sweaters and pajamas his girl had — and by some sorcery there was a white lace stuck to it as well as some colored cotton balls that were made to look like Christmas ornaments. Deciding that he didn’t really care, he decided to discard the shirt he was wearing and  be clothed in the sweater.

As he was walking over to the party hall, his eyes brightened upon seeing his girlfriend; hugging her from behind he planted a kiss on her cheek, “Hey, doll.” Smiling brightly at him, she kissed his nose and moved out from their hug and took a good luck on her boyfriend. Chuckling at what he was wearing she teased him, “Congratulations. You’ve officially won the Ugly Sweater contest.” He rolled his eyes as he buried his face in her neck to tickle her, which proved successful as she let out a bunch of giggles that made him chuckle against her skin — adding to the vibrations. “Maybe you should ask for Santa for a simple washer and dryer this year?” Shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders so they could enter the room he told her, “Only thing I wished for is to spend more Christmases with you.”

^ gif prompt

Despite having computer skills Jensen couldn’t find out the perfect gift for his girl — even though he may have snooped around on her phone and laptop and yet his search remained unfruitful and the man still was clueless on what to get her. He ended up buying a lot of gifts which included her favorite chocolate and snacks, jewelry he hoped she’d like, a sweater he thought would look adorable on her, lingerie he knew would fit her well, her favorite scented candles, and a framed print photograph of the two of them. As he was delicately placing the items into a large box he bought in her favorite color. Deep in focus, he failed to take note of the presence of his beloved woman, “What you got there, babe?”

Startled, he jumped to stand up and used his body as a shield to avoid her curious and wandering eyes to see the gifts. “Babe! Didn’t hear you come in. What are you doing here?” Chuckling at his flustered state she sassed at him, “Well I live here too, right?” As he placed his hands on his hips he shook his own head as he grimaced at himself and was internally smacking himself for his dumb reply; his girlfriend was more amused with his flustered expression rather than what he was previous doing. “Well the surprise is ruined now; since I was wrapping my gifts for you,” It broke Y/N’s heart to see him disappointed in himself so she placed a kiss on his cheek and covered her eyes with her hands, “I’m not looking so you can put that away; then to make you feel better we can have sex.” Jensen was immediately turned on with her sultry tone and preposition that he just shoved all off the things inside the box before covering it; carrying her bridal style and leaving out the spare room. Y/N was laughing loudly at how her boyfriend was more than eager to carry out her suggestion.

“Since when are you so good at wrapping gifts?” — dialogue prompt

The only gifts that were under Y/N and Sy’s Christmas tree were either gifts that had been given to them by friends or the few presents she bought for her boyfriend. Part of her was optimistic that Sy had gotten her a gift too big that it was impossible to place it underneath the tree; but the more pessimistic part of her taunted her that he didn’t bother getting her a gift. Sipping on her hot chocolate as she watched a movie, she scrunched up her face in confusion upon hearing Sy let out grunts as he walked towards her. “Are you alright, bear?” At the moment she cursed at how thick her man was since his body concealed what he held behind him. “I couldn’t wait any longer ‘till the 25th, bug. Just had to give my gift to you.” His Texan accent was thick as he was proud of the gift he held.

She patted the spot beside him and he was more than willing to sit beside her; then pushing up the wrapped up box he himself wrapped. Holding the huge box in her smaller hands, she threw him a mocking look, “Since when are you so good at wrapping gifts?” Rolling his eyes at her jab, he brought his hand to tickle her side, “Since I had to give my girlfriend the best gifts I could ever give her.” Her heart melted with his sincerity and knew in herself that even though she has yet to find out what’s inside the box but knew that it was the best gift she ever received. Pressing a kiss to both his cheeks she shyly mumbled, “Thank you, bear,” Before proceeding to open up the gift. It was a bit of a struggle for Y/N to open the gift as the packaging tape Sy used was sticky on her fingertips; the former Army captain refusing to help her in her distress but instead just chuckled at her adorable reactions. “Oh my God, Sy!” She squealed as she saw what was hidden under the poorly wrapped gift was the laptop she was eyeing for a while since her old one was pissing her off. The captain wrapped his arms around her smaller figure as she put the box on the floor gently and launched herself on her boyfriend’s lap to press kisses all over his bearded face. “You love my gift, bug?” Nodding enthusiastically she pressed a passionate kiss on his lips before answering, “I did bear; thank you so much!”

“Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift…and now I get to unwrap you.” — dialogue prompt

Lance shut the door as he came home after attending the Christmas party he and his fellow coaches and gymnasts had. He was wearing a silly Christmas sweater and a red belt that was tied to mimic a ribbon from a wrapped gift. “I’m in the living room, angel,” He yelled in hopes that his girlfriend would come to him. When he heard the soft pitter patter of her feet, he smiled upon seeing her figure approach him. “Lancey! How was the party?” She wrapped his arms around his neck as he peppered kisses on his neck to which the gymnast giggled at as he was getting tickled by her shenanigans. “It was alright; turns out Maggie got me for secret Santa and just gave me hair gel.” Pausing her actions, she moved away from his neck and ruffled his hair, “She knows you really well considering how you use so much.”

Feigning offense, he placed a hand on his chest as he gasped, “It takes a lot of work to get this hair to look perfect, like it always does.” Giggling at his response she just kissed his cheek and reassured him, “It always looks good, Lancey; but I do love your bed hair the most.” Her lingering hands lifted his sweater a bit and was shocked to see his belt, “Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift,” With curious eyes he looked at her as she wiggled her eyebrows as she lowered herself to kneel on the floor; by now he caught her drift, smirking as he let her do as she pleases, “And now I get to unwrap you.”

^ gif prompt

It was the annual Avengers’ Christmas outreach program and though he wasn’t the overall head, Steve volunteered which resulted in his girlfriend doing the same. As he was handing out the gift baskets the other agents had prepared, he looked over to find Y/N who was currently entertaining the kids. A loving gaze rested on his face upon seeing how much of a sweetheart and how caring she was around kids — his thoughts then drifted about how much more gentle and nurturing she would be if it were their own kids. Few hours after the outreach program ended, Steve was waiting by one of the couches for Y/N as she was still talking to some of the other agents, wishing them a great Christmas Eve. Smiling as she saw his sculpted face she plopped herself down on his lap as she snuggled herself to him, “Hey there, soldier.” 

“You look real happy, doll,” He took note as she stroked the skin of her arm and felt her purr in pleasure from the simple act. “The kids were so sweet and adorable! One of them even thought I was a princess,” As she cooed about the children she interacted with earlier, Steve could not help his imagination as it drifted to images of him and Y/N taking care of their own. Settling one of his hands on her stomach, he began to run slow and soft circles on her skin as he spoke, “What if we had our own?” Craning her neck to look at him, she asked for clarification about what he meant, “What exactly are you saying, Steve?” A soft, serene smile graced his lips as he humorously spelt it out for her, “Why don’t we ask Santa for our own kid this year?” More than thrilled with his suggestion, she kissed his lips multiple times as she excitedly kissed his lips repeatedly, “Yes, yes, yes! I’d love that so much!” Pleased with her response he hugged her as he uttered lowly, “Best part of trying for a kid is the sex we’ll be having.”

Baking together — general prompts

“Baby, can you come over here?” Will’s voice called for his girlfriend as he was laying down the ingredients he bought earlier. Appearing from the bathroom where she peed, she stood beside him as she placed a hand on the kitchen island, “What you got here, bub?” Opening the recipe for the Christmas cookies he found on the internet, he pointed to his tablet and the ingredients, “I need help baking cookies, please.” Y/N softly chuckled at how her man was pouting at her for needing help. “What are the cookies for, Will?”

Pushing away from the sink and heading over towards her, he trapped her between his body and the kitchen island as he revealed, “Well this is really the first time that I’ve been excited to spend the Christmas season,” The business consultant knew that when she tilted her head that she was confused with where his explanation was going so he just bluntly let it out, “I was hoping that us baking together could be our Christmas tradition.” Y/N could not help but feel the butterflies in her stomach erupt as she loved what Will had to say. Nodding her head excitedly,  she hugged him, “I’d love that so much, bubba. That can be our holiday tradition starting from now.”

Kissing under the mistletoe — general prompts

The Christmas Eve gala Carter threw was nothing short of elegant and alluring. But as the CEO had his arm wrapped around his girlfriend, it was the only proof he needed to believe that the night was elegant and alluring with her by his side; they both donned the color red in the suit he wore and gown she was dressed in. “You did a good job, Car,” Y/N whispered before pressing a kiss on the shell of his ear. Politely ending his conversation with one of his business partners, Carter smiled at her, “I think I did. I mean, I got myself a beautiful girl who loves me so much and is great at bed.” His jab resulted into her softly slapping his chest to which he only laughed at as he pressed a kiss on her cheek. “There’s something I wanna show you,” Allowing himself to be dragged away, he excused themselves just as some people were trying to start a conversation with them.

“What did you want to show me, angel?” Standing face to face at an empty hallway, he wondered about what it was she wanted to show him. With a grin — one that seemed innocent but the man knew better that if anything her mind had impure thoughts — she pointed a finger up and his gaze followed and smirked upon seeing a mistletoe hanging from above the ceiling. “My needy girl just wanted a kiss from me huh?” Nodding her head, his soft hands cupped her cheeks and pulled her in so he could plant an ardent kiss on her lips; smiling when he felt her claw at his back moan at the touch of his lips against hers. Breaking away from the kiss Y/N grabbed one of his hands — though Carter raised a brow with what she was up to but remained mum — as he guided his hand down her body he was surprised when she pressed his hand against her clothed core, “My panty has a mistletoe printed on it; does it mean you’ll kiss me there too?” Biting his lip as he got hot and bothered at the thought, Carter promised, “Angel, even without a mistletoe you can bet on it that I’m gonna kiss and fuck you down there.”

Friends w/ benefits  — trope prompts

Ransom rolled on the bed and faced where Y/N was laying; he shocked himself as he ran his finger over the shape of her face with a rare, loving expression on his face. Before going up to dress himself up he kissed her forehead then headed for the kitchen. As he was preparing a pot of coffee and some toast for him and Y/N, he smiled as he heard some footsteps coming from her bedroom; might be waking up already, he thought. The front door opened to reveal a woman who looked like Y/N, but he suspected was older given how she had wrinkles on her face and had gray spots in her hair. “Oh, am I in the wrong apartment? I swear this where my daughter, Y/N, lives.” Putting the puzzle pieces together, he reassured her, “Oh don’t worry you’re in the right apartment,” He pointed to her bedroom as he spoke, “She just woke up and is probably washing up.” Ransom introduced himself as Y/M/N did the same as they shook hands; before an awkward silence could envelope them, there was a soft ping that came from the coffee pot to announce that the hot beverage was ready, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” The older woman nodded as she removed her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, “Yes please; I also bought some bagels and croissants that we could eat.”

“Mom! What are you doing here?” Y/N gasped out in shock as she saw her mother placing down some food on the table; she was also quick to throw an apologetic look at Ransom. “Well seeing as you’ve never given me a direct answer on whether you’ll be spending Christmas Eve with me and your father, I decided to personally get an answer from you.” The trust fund baby quietly laughed at the exchange between the two women; he never witnessed a banter that was filled with love and genuine wit without disdain or revulsion mixed around in it. “Okay, fine I’ll go!” Y/N sighed up in defeat as her mother clapped her hands excitedly, “Is Ransom coming as well? It’s about time you introduced us to your boyfriend you know!” With widened eyes, the younger woman was at disbelief at the fact she knew the name of her fuck buddy; She wondered about how did Ransom introduce himself he was ahead of her in answering, “We’ve been together for just half a year now; but I guess Y/N was just embarrassed of me.” Flinching as her mother smacked her arm as she scolded about how you shouldn’t be ashamed about the ones we care about Y/N was quick to retort, “I’m not ashamed of you. But if you want you can meet my parents on Christmas.” Both Ransom and her mother were smiling wide — clearly excited for that day. As her mother excused herself to go the bathroom, Y/N was now left with the former playboy and she moved to stand beside him and was pleasantly surprised when he engulfed her in a hug, “Is this your subtle way of telling me you want to be more than friends with benefits?” He smirked at her after placing a kiss on her forehead to confirm that it was indeed what he wanted, “Don’t gloat too much about it, princess.”

[imxeracus]

From Now On

Ok y’all, this is super long hahahahha I’m so sorry. Happy Gruvia Week 2021!! Here’s my contribution and I’m sorry but I don’t think I have the time to do more but I hope you guys like it anyway. I hope its not too OOC and if FT had more romance elements I believe this would be possible. Enjoy!

--------------------------- Gray tousled his hair and fidgeted around the entrance, feeling nervous about the day when it was only about 10 o’clock in the morning. Today, he told himself that he had to make sure things went well and most of all, to not take off any of his clothes subconsciously. For an ice mage, ironically he could not seem to get himself to calm down and stay cool about this. Regarding his first official date with Juvia, that is.

The 100 Years Quest was over and as promised, he spoke to Juvia about their relationship and how he was finally good enough for her. Despite the water mage’s disagreement to his initial beliefs and reasoning, she was elated that Gray formally addressed their feelings for each other. Furthermore, he initiated that they ought to have a proper first date that weekend itself.

He clicked his tongue briefly and frowned upon himself as he began to manifest in some thoughts to keep himself together. Why are you getting all nervous for! He ponders, his hands getting a little clammy in his pockets. Aren’t you the Gray Fullbuster, who bravely puts himself out for others and save the world countless times?

”Gray-sama?”

Before he could go on any further, a cute slivery voice interrupted his train of thought. Miserably trying to keep his cool, he spun around eagerly and was met with sapphire eyes that gave off a different vibe from her usual self. The said bluenette had her locks half tied and wore an off-shoulder dress that was not too revealing, similar to her nature. Accompanied with her outfit was a pair of kitten heels, some accessories and a subtle blush adorning her cheeks.

”Juvia is sorry for making you wait.”

For the majority, her outfit is considered simple and chic but for today, Gray thought she looked really, really good. Dammit, he gulped loudly as he felt his cheeks started to blush already at the sight of her. He knew that the water user was attractive, but it was beginning to sink in that he is now calling this beautiful person his. “Ah—um—” Gray fumbled and looked away, trying his best to hide the redness. “Shall we get going?” She simply smiled, gave a small chuckle and placed her left hand gently on his right arm (as if he could take more), indicating him to proceed to their destination. On their first date, Fullbuster had planned to go and visit the aquarium—because the water reminds him of Juvia, but he is never going to admit it—which was not too far off from where they were. It was a good walking distance, and they had a nice peaceful time on the way there. Despite saying that, he was worried as it did not seem natural for the bluenette to stay silent. Especially today, he expected her to be more excited and be all over him. As they arrive at the aquarium, Gray went over to the counter and bought a pair of tickets and made his way back to the front, where Juvia was waiting for him. As he carefully observed the water mage from a distance, he could see that she was looking down with an expression he could not seem to grasp. ”Juvia.” Surprised, she looked up hastily to see Gray back by her side. ”Is everything alright?” ”Juvia’s fine!” She exclaimed, quick to lighten up the mood. “She’s just... a little excited—as in, we’ve never done this before—but Juvia’s really happy!” She glanced at him timidly. “Also, Gray-sama looks dashing today.” For once with the determination of not stripping everything off, the ice mage did make the effort to dress well in a brown coat paired with a t-shirt and jeans. Albeit reddening slightly at her remark, he was more concerned on the fact she seemed to not be telling the truth. Here he was, blessed to have her despite all those years of constantly avoiding her advances—and now, when she is distressed, she was still keeping herself together to not worry him. His gaze soften as the guilt was slowly crept up inside him. Despite that, the said man tried to push the matter aside for the time being and wanted to make sure the day goes well. As of now, he knew that he needed to push himself more and step up his game. Once again, her eyes met with his onyx ones as he spoke quickly. “You.. you look good, too.” Juvia’s pupils dilated while Gray blushed furiously, frowning at how embarrassed he was over such a simple statement. It was a start, at least. He also noted on how she seemed to be elated from it. Before she could ask anything else, he took her hand in his and brought them into the aquarium. He could tell people were staring as the both of them were rather known after all they have done in Fiore, but screw it. Gray decided that it was not going to get in the way of his pride today if it could. Thankfully, the ice mage started to loosen up as Juvia gleefully looked at all the sea creatures that were present. When her beloved mentioned about this place, she gladly agreed because this place was known for breeding imported fishes outside of Fiore. The water woman, being part of the sea and occasionally swimming in it, found joy learning the names and characteristics of the animals she meets in the ocean.  “So these are angelfishes!” she exclaimed to Gray, as she lightly tapped on his shoulder while pointing at the said creature. “Juvia always sees them if she takes a dive into the ocean.” “Hmm,” Gray mused, acting disinterested. “What else do you normally see?” "Juvia’s seen all of these underwater because in this tank, all of them are common sea fishes.” “Isn’t that a bore?” The ice mage rolled his eyes. “We should go see something you don’t normally see—that’s what this place is for.” He smoothly took her hand in his and brought her along. Meanwhile, Juvia lightly blushes as she realised that this incident—Gray initiating the hand holding—has been happening a few times already. Every time she releases his grasp to point or walk towards a destination, the brunet would eventually put them back together again. She glanced at Gray who seemed to pay no mind to the matter as they visited the different tanks and places of the aquarium. Indeed, the bluenette was not complaining but a little taken aback. Is this suppose to be normal? She thought, as her imagination continued to spiral on. The smooth and sly Gray-sama was taking a little too much for her to handle—even from before! Eventually, her legs gave way and she started to lose her balance. Quickly, she placed her hand on the wall for balance which caused her footsteps to come to a halt and the ice mage to notice her situation. “Juvia!” He held her arms by the sides and shook her slightly in worry. “I’m right earlier, aren’t I? You really weren’t feeling good?” “Gray-sama...” He raised a brow in question. “Yes?” Juvia took a quick glance back at him before she burst into tears. “Gray-sama is too gentlemanly and sly today!” She wailed, half in distress and in joy. “First, he chooses to dress up and pick Juvia up at her place. Secondly, he complimented her outfit she took hours to decide and still felt it wasn’t good enough!” “Lastly, Juvia didn’t want to bother him and occasionally walks on her own, but Gray-sama keeps coming back, holding her hands gently and she’s too happy that she can’t walk straight anymore!” Full of emotions, she tried to control her tears as she quickly wiped some of it away. “Juvia’s not used to it Gray-sama. You’re being too nice and cool!” At this he flushed hard, did he really hold her hand so often? “Oi!” He panicked, his cheeks continue to redden in embarrassment at her bold statements of him. “D-don’t make sure a big deal out of it. I mean—like—just calm down!” With her loud voice, the people nearby saw and heard the context of the incident and lightly chuckled in amusement which caused Gray to be conscious with their surroundings and it made him uncomfortable. He quickly took her to an area with minimal crowd and dimmed lights to spare them from all the attention. He sat Juvia down on the nearby bench in hopes to calm her down as she sniffed softly. The ice mage took a moment to stare at the bluenette who was being all worked up earlier on. Gray’s eyebrows furrowed as he run his hand through his hair in exasperation before he sat down next to her. “Here,” A cold can drink grazed upon Juvia’s cheek gently. “Drink this.” She took it with gratitude and managed a few sips, a troubled look appearing on her features as she noticed her beloved looking away—clearly upset. The water mage frowned and looked down, tightening her hold on the can drink as she quickly apologises. “Juvia is sorry, Gray-sama. She should’ve known better than to embarrass Gray-sama in public,” Surprised at herself, she started to fumble. “Gray-sama doesn’t like attention and Juvia failed to see it. Juvia shouldn’t have been so swamped at her own giddiness, Juvia was too–” “Stop it,” Gray clicked his tongue in annoyance, his bangs covering his eyes. “You make me sound like a terrible boyfriend.” “Juvia didn’t mean—eh?” It took a moment before she realised what Gray has declared and took a small peak at him. “Did Gray-sama just say ‘boyfriend’?” “Aren’t I?” “Juvia didn’t expect you to say that out...” He scratched his neck nervously, his eyes looking away. “I mean.. I promised you didn’t I? I’m going to become a man good enough for you. If I can’t even say that out, I’m worse than flamebrain.” As much as she was feeling touched, she couldn’t help but worry. “Juvia doesn’t want to force you to change, Gray-sama.” “I’m not forcing myself.” “But Gray-sama kept forcing himself to make sure that we held hands—” “Because I wanted to!” Pupils dilated once again as she was struck with confusion. Fullbuster, flushed and embarrassed at what he just blurted out, grew annoyed at her denseness and tousled his hair once more before speaking up. “Dammit woman, why are you making me say all these sappy shit...” “Look,” He sighed before looking back at her once again, determined. “Every time we hold hands, I always try to play it cool but damn—it’s stupid to say this as a grown man but I get so nervous and happy about it. I kept wanting you close to me....” Gray felt annoyed at his frenzied heart as he continued to speak his feelings aloud. “I really want to be better for you, Juvia. I don’t want you to always make it easy for me. I want to return the favour back as much as I can.”  Before he went on, the ice mage narrowed his eyes in dismay and looked away as he gripped his knuckles tightly. “But this whole time, I kept making you cry and get upset. Even now, I don’t even know how to make you feel better when you’re always here for me previously. Instead, I chose to take us somewhere else and frown about it because I was a coward.... I’m sorry.” The ice mage mumbled at the end of his sentence, but Juvia could make out his words anytime. It was funny, really. All her life, the water mage was contented on loving him without expecting anything much back. Now, when it was becoming a reality, Juvia’s heart swelled. For once, her mind went blank on how to express these thoughts aloud. Loving Gray has been wonderful, but being loved back by him now was even better than she could ever imagined. She placed a hand on his cheek in efforts to cheer him up and as he turned back—in his opinion, Gray was greeted with the most alluring smile he has ever seen. “Thank you for trying so hard, Gray-sama.” She spoke in the most loving voice she could muster. “Juvia loves you very much.” In that moment, his gaze softened as he swiftly took away her hand that was on his face into his own, lacing them together. Tightening his hold on her said hand, Gray took her cheek in with his other free palm. The ice mage took a good look at her before he slowly leaned in. He heard Juvia uttered something out of confusion, but he paid no mind to it. Because in that moment, all he could think of was how much he adored her kindness, love and patience.  In the dim lighting and quiet section of the aquarium, his lips met hers in a chaste kiss as response to her statement earlier on. Frankly, the ice mage did not know what to say either as he nervously pulled away to check on her reaction. When his eyes slowly opened and met with hers, Gray could not help but smile back at his girl whose cheeks were now flushed in surprise. He let out a slight chuckle and squeezed her hand lovingly as he could tell that the water mage was clearly still processing the kiss. It was embarrassing, he admitted, but he did not regret doing so. He had nothing to hide anyways. “Shall we continue on with our date?”

After all, Juvia was his to keep from now on.

[ohmy7hearts]

spring gale

Summary: Spring means new beginnings but a gale (a storm more like?) in the name of Shinazugawa Sanemi blows your plans out and throw your once peaceful life into the winds.

Pairings: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!Reader // future Shinazugawa Genya x SisterFigure!Reader 

A/N: this,,, is v impromptu. i literally got out of my bed bc it has been bugging me with how little sanemi fanfics there are, esp modern aus. tbh, there have been plenty of fics brewing in my mind and tell me if there’s any you’d be interested in and maybe i will return from my hiatus hah:

 - zhongli modern au: adepti babies being your adopted children and navigating parenthood 

- unknown pairing as of now but travelers being your kids so transporting yourself into the world to find them after 500+ years of not returning home 

- etc involving atsumu, diluc, childe but if you have any requests, feel free to drop it in and maybe i’ll consider them

Warnings: Some cursing (I mean it’s Sanemi lolol)

“Shinazugawa-san?” Sanemi glanced up, his hands continued packing away his things into the bag, an eyebrow raised. You smiled, hands folded over the other in front of you, as you continued to speak after gaining his attention. “When would you be free to do the project?”

He sighed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, while making his way out of the classroom - tone and body language showing his disinterest in the conversation. “We can just do it in class.”

You jogged to get into step next to him, “Well, it is for the bare minimum. I’m sure we can do much better than that.” You observed his side profile to see if any emotion could give way to what he was thinking. You frowned, frustration creeping up on you, “I understand that we’re not each other’s first choice in partners but that’s not an excuse to not do our best.”

“Are grades and studying the only thing in that airhead of yours?” His eyes flit towards yours for a moment before returning its gaze forward. “I don’t fucking have as much free time as you.”

You stopped following him. A bolt of anger and disbelief had your mouth dropping and hands curling into shaking fists. You scoffed, voice raising with each word, “I believe you need this more than me, Shinazugawa-san. Unless you want to continue being a pain in everyone’s ass and eventually not even graduate, then be my guest.” 

He swiveled towards you. You flinched reactively. He faltered, face momentarily flitting from anger to surprise back to annoyance the moment his eyes scanned you. One step, two steps. He was in your space, breathing in and out to you, with his  strikingly cold eyes and thin eyebrows furrowed. “Say that again, I dare you.”

You closed your eyes before releasing a deep sigh, muscles easing from the hold of your anger. “We don’t have to do it after school or on the weekends if you are that occupied. We can do it before school or during our breaks and even before our clubs start.” You grabbed one of his wrist, turning his palm upwards, shoving the crumpled paper with your number into it while fixating your glare on him throughout. You refuse to back down but you will be the bigger person. Forcing his hand to a close, you narrowed your eyes for good measure while trying to control the smirk from overtaking your face when his frown further deepened in distaste. Taking a step back, your hands returned to the usual folded stance, you forced an amicable smile to replace the smirk - although you have a feeling that he could still see the smirk from how his eye twitched, “Of course, it’s really up to you, Shinazugawa-san.”

Turning on your heel, you headed back to the classroom with your head held high and a full-blown smirk on your face while your peers watched with stolen glances and whispers behind hands or under breaths. The clicking of his tongue echoed in the corridor and in your head all the way back to the classroom. 

“Ara, ara, should you really do that (Y/N)-chan?” Shinobu greeted you by your desk, eyes filled with mirth from the free entertainment.

You laughed airily, eyes not meeting hers but focused on clearing the messy table, “I wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t that difficult.” 

“Not many survive Sanemi you know?” Shinobu followed you to the student council room. “One must use their life's worth of luck to crawl out from his bad side.” 

A bark of a laugh escaped you from her exaggeration. “Shinobu-chan ~ I thought you wanted to get into medicine and not theatrics?”

Her eyes met yours, a smirk tugging on her lips, eyes shifting precariously into ones when she knew something the other party doesn’t and in this case that was you. A shiver ran down your spine. You’ve been in the spot only a few times but still a few too many with most of them ending up jerking your view of the world down a path you’ve never considered. You gulped, hands itching and playing with themselves. 

“Did you not hear about how he got into a fight with some university boys down at the park?” She leaped into your space, voice dropping into a whisper in your ear yet head tilted to ensure a front seat view to your reaction. “He came out with a couple of scratches and bruises but…” Her small hands encircled your upper arm. Your eyes dropping to them before returning to her face - surprised to witness your shock colouring your face white as it was reflected in those big eyes of hers. “The boys said to be much bigger than he is, had to go to the hospital.” Her smile bordering on unhinged glee, she drawled, “They were so scared they didn’t sue him.”

She immediately returned to her spot beside you, a foot away, while her shoulders and arms lifted in a form of a shrug nonchalantly. “Apparently, when questioned, the boys said something about them being the ones out of line and they have worked things out.” 

Being close friends with Shinobu and Mitsuri meant that you were privy to the latest gossip and news but you always took it with a grain of salt seeing firsthand how some things were purposefully voided or added for the enjoyment of teenagers. You smiled unsurely, “that’s just a rumour Shinobu-chan.”

She pouted, invisible to those who didn't know her well enough or who weren’t keen enough, “You can ask Akio. He was a witness.”

Your eyes widened before blinking in incredulity. “What.”

She giggled, hand raising in a wave before dashing down the corridor. “Do share with me if he tells you more!” 

It took you a few seconds to regain your bearings, even a shake of your head to rid the mental image of Sanemi punching away on people bigger than him for his amusement. He was by no means a small person shown clearly with the muscles seen even through the school uniform - a testament to his achievements as one of the greatest fighters in the taekwondo club despite his lacklustre participation of actually attending said club practices - but there were certainly bigger and taller people in your school, much less university. 

“Hashimoto-san!” You snapped out of your musings.

“Tanaka-san.” You greeted back. The black haired guy chuckled, “I told you to call me by my first name. After all, we’ve been working together for 3 years. Unless, you don’t see me as a friend? Damn, it must hurt to only be seen as a student council partner even after winning the presidential election together.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You huffed, plopping down into the chair and hands gravitating towards the papers on the table before being stopped by a hand on your wrist. Raising an eyebrow, he returned the gesture indicating there’s something he was expecting you to tell him. He released the grasp on your hand the moment you were falling back onto the back support of the chair with a sigh. “How may I help you Akio?”

“On the way here, I heard an interesting piece of news.” He sat sideways on the table, the leg on the table folded over the leg still standing. You folded your arms over your chest and hummed. “You and Shinazugawa were fighting?”

“It was just a talk that got a bit heated. I was trying to get a hold on him so we can do our project for literature together.” 

Akio’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his bangs. “Wow, what luck. First, he somehow got into your class through that stupid maths shit and now you have to deal with him.” He smiled in assurance, eyes crinkling close and  a hand over his heart. “Be careful but if anything happens, I’m here. I’ll come running to save my beloved president.”

You mouthed a wow. Silence blanketed the both of you as you nod in understanding - lips trying to contain the smiles and laughs - as he continued to express his devotion through his hand gestures - hand flying to point at you before returning to over his chest, patting it, then forming into a prayer of sorts - all the while mouthing his loyalty to you. 

With a shake of your head and hands indicating him to leave as you pulled yourself closer to your table, “Thanks but I doubt I need it.”

Instead, he tilted his head backwards and narrowed his eyes on the ceiling. “If you see what I saw, I wouldn’t put too much faith in him.”

Blood freezes over while questions overwhelm your mind. You gulped and licked your lips to get rid of the sudden dryness, “And what exactly are they?”

“He didn’t stop beating them up or screaming at them even when they were down. Three policemen had to pry him off and restrain him.”

Your heart dropped.